Lyric Celtic 5-3 Recreativo 2.4.06Back to beautiful Wandsworth for our final game of the season. Despite our recent revival, the management are looking forward to the end of this campaign. Trying to organise getting 15 players into two cars and making another trip to South London seems to have taken a whole week. Various players pull out, injured, domestic duties etc or simply fail to turn up despite having the rest of the team waiting at our meet point. We call various players out from behind the trees who finally get into the pre-match warm up after stubbing out a spliff and do our stretches accompanied by a team member's MP3 player whining out some crap R+B. Jel commands we keep together 'as a team', and get focused. He forgets half the team have spent the past few years lighting up ciggies on the back seats of buses like naughty little school kids. Why do our warm ups always feel like some PE lesson with the kids who can't be bothered talking, sniggering, pissing about? However, the match is good. Very competitive. At times very niggly. If truth be known, most of us were heartened to see Lyric's no. 3 dive headlong into the only large puddle on the pitch. They scored 5. We scored 3. Godfred got a yellow for a Drogba-esque hand-ball goal. Very little else to report. So that's it, our third season in this league over. Five months of sunny park football to look forward to. Then it'll be heads down, back to business and fighting for top spot in Division Two next time round.
Team : Steve Jones (Ali Abdul), Chris Read, Mario Pisano, Jimmie Gregory, Daniel Hall, Kali Hagenstede-Gregory, Jonathan Goodhand, Adam Bradbury, Osama Mansour, Godfred Sagoe, Jel Gregory.
Recreativo 2-0 Royal Household 19.3.06
Somewhere deep down inside of us, we can all find a reason to hate the Royal family. Who can forget our beloved Windsors on 'It's A Royal Knockout'? Or a ruddy faced Prince Harry dressing up as a nazi in the same week Europe marked the 60th Anniversary of the Liberation of Auschwitz? What about a stony faced Her Majesty refusing to cross her arms for 'Auld Lang Sayne' on Millenium night? Then there's William, becoming the President of the F.A. and daring 
to attend the press conference wearing a bloody rugby shirt! Today, we get as near as most of us are ever going to get, at re-addressing the balance and having a go back at the decrepid House of Windsor. We take to the field in confident mood, bouyed by an ever expanding youthful squad. The Royalists are late, a man down and various members seem to be taking it in turns to put the goalie's shirt on. Igor the Ukranian ref gets the game started and from the off we're camped in the Royalists half. Our new formation is working wonders for the team and it's definately Recreativo who are in control of the game. Kali launches a blinding cross which sails in over the keeper's head and we go in at half time one-nil to the good. With both Mario and Shane injured for the second half, Sama steps into central defence, his lankiness, youth and confidence enough to put paid to any Royalist counter charge. Their one man up top goes down with the slightest of touches. Adam calls him a big girl. Ali gets a second and it's 2-0 to Recreativo, job done. We leave the field contented with the three points and working out the maths in a survival plan to stay up. It's probably too late in the day for that, but bodes well for next season. All in all, a bloody great day for the team spirit. Vive Recreativo! Vive la Republique!
Team: Steve Jones, Mario Pisano (Scott Harris), Shane O'prey (Sama Mansour), Jimmie Gregory, Daniel Hall, Adam Bradbury, Kali Hagenstede-Gregory, Marcus du Sautoy, Godred Sagoe, Bilau Ali-Talib (Ali Abdul), Jel Gregory.
Shepherds Tuesday 3-3 Recreativo 12.3.06
Is it really 21 years since Class War led one of it's infamous 'Bash The Rich' marches up through the leafy lanes of Hampstead? It only seems like yesterday that some of us joined the angry inner city urchins on days out disrupting the wealthier areas of our class enemies, Hampstead, Kensington and the Henley Regatta. And so here we are today, back in Hampstead. The only battle we seem concerned with now is getting one over Shepherds Tuesday. It seems so much more important to us now than burning down the avenues of the rich. The team is beginning to shape up. Finally. We've left it a little late in the season to have any real chance of staying up, but after bringing in a few more..ahem..youthful players, a harmonious spirit and togetherness
seems to have rejuvenated the squad. We are even scoring goals. Today, in all areas of the field, we pass, we tackle, we battle hard. Marcus is back, in central midfield and not only let's the other team know it, but decides to take some of our own players down with him as well. That's the spirit! Get in there son! Overall, another good performance by everyone. Godfred, Jel, and 15 year old debutant Bilau get on the scoresheet. It's good that we leave the field slightly disappointed with just the one point, but there you go. Back to the dressing rooms and the banter is good. We drive back to Hackney listening to Man U v Newcastle on the radio, the voice of Alan Green punctuated with Daniel moaning at his mum for driving too slow, being in the wrong lane, not having any mints in the car. He's given a managerial warning on his future conduct. He has to be nice to his mum if he wants to play again. He promises he'll make 
her a cup of tea when he gets home which is good enough for us to include him in the squad for next week. Aah, next week...bring on Royal Household! We truly have to redress the balance for the good people of Hackney against the lackeys of the House of Windsor. Watch this space.
Team : Steve Jones, Mario Pisano, Shane O'prey, Jimmie Gregory, Kali Gregory-Hagenstede, Adam Bradbury, Scott Harris (Bilau Ali -Talib), Marcus du Sautoy, Godfred Sagoe, Daniel Hall, Jel Gregory.
Recreativo 5-6 Clapham Eagles 26.2.0626.02.06
We may have been beaten black and blue in this division, but we've been top-of-the-league in our punctuality. Until today that is. So fair play to Anthony and his Eagles for beating us to the car park and even asking if we could get the game started early! We warm up on pitch number two. You know, the one right by the road with the endless traffic whizzing by. Pot shots at the old man in goal result in one of the club's three balls sailing high in the wind and popping under the wheels of a passing Ford Focus and disappearing into nothingness. This despite the actual goal being a bigger target than normal due to the fact that once we'd levered it into position, one end of the crossbar sloped a good 5 inches higher than the other. This game ended up being a
bloody good game of football. The past few months we'd endured some right beatings. Some of us have had to come to terms with our weak knees, our dodgy ankles, our communal sloth as a team. But once we dare to stare into the ugly mug of relegation and say, 'so fucking what?!!', we begin to feel our bodies unshackled, our pulses racing and our hearts booming deep inside us...big up your chests Recreativo, let's play some football. And that we did. The management announce an experimental diamond formation (ok, at times an octagon shape or octopus) with three at the back and five in midfield. Trying to sound all continental the words 'wing-backs' are uttered (if all else failed, we'd revert to the classic head-of-a-bull attack formation like in the film Zulu). Throwing caution to the wind we once again turn to our youth and ask Kali to go the full 90 minutes and throw 15-year old Daniel into the middle of the park and tell him to get on with it. And the boys done good. We matched the Eagles in all departments (goalkeeping..ahem..not included). Adam bossed the midfield like Edgar Davids in his prime, Godfred returned to his old form, positive, quick and strong and bagged a hat-trick and Shane confidently delt with winning the ball in the air (and was showboating with a pass off his chest!). We scored five and let in six. Today the score really didn't matter. If it wasn't for two silly goalmouth mistakes we'd have won this game. We came to really give it a go and left the field knowing we'd given our all. Viva relegation! Viva Recreativo!
Team : Steve Jones, Mario Pisano, Shane O'prey, Chris Read, Scott Harris (Ali Abdul), Daniel Hall, Kali Gregory-Hagenstede, Adam Bradbury, Jimmie Gregory, Godfred Sagoe, Jel Gregory.
Recreativo 0-10 Bishops Park 12.2.06
Mid February. And today we get our first bit of proper footballing weather of the season. Rain, puddles, mud and slosh. Why do the British insist on playing this beautiful artful game in such ugly dirty weather? Anyway, we arrive at the Marshes discussing socks. On a pre-match pitch inspection earlier in the day, we'd seen another team wearing our kit, only with white socks. Aah, white football socks. There's something special about brilliant white football socks. Almost spiritual. Connotations of an all rampant Real Madrid tearing through the hearts of their opposition in the European Cup in decades past, Pele in his Santos kit, Jimmy Greaves in all-white Spurs Euro kit (yeah I know it was in black and white!). On taking charge of Chelsea in 1996, Ruud Gullit had insisited they ditch their blue socks for white ones. He said they looked so much smarter and so made the players stand tall and therefore gave them an edge. We had
toyed with the idea of wearing white socks when we first bought the kit, but try retaining that brilliant-white newness after a couple of games. Impossible. Maybe that was it! Maybe that was why we were on such a losing streak?! Never mind the football. Maybe it was all down to the colour of our socks. Recreativo 0 Bishops Park 10. The casual reader of this website can see we are in desperate times. The football isn't working. We've tried everything :well-drilled warm ups, swopping players positions, rousing team talks, praying, giving up chocolate for the week, spirulina tablets, self-flagellation with goal nets, leaving well stacked chillums in all four corners of the Marshes to appease Shiva, burying a freshly killed crow behind the goal of our oppo, East End voodoo, Solstice rituals, the lot. Next weekend we are off to grubby Wandsworth to face Lyric Celtic. If we come away with nothing then white socks will be ordered. If they don't work then..gulp...midweek training will begin. Watch this space.
Team: Steve Jones, Mario Pisano (Scott Harris/Kali Hagenstede), Shane O'prey, Marcus du Sautoy, Jimmie Gregory, Adam Bradbury, Jonathan Goodhand, Chris Read, Osama Mansour, Godfred Sagoe, Jel Gregory.
Dynamo Landor 5-1 Recreativo 29.1.06
The omens were not good. Four or five key players were AWOL this weekend or sidelined by illness or called in to work. Shane had texted five minutes before the meet to ask whether we had a game this Sunday (something about vague emails), and the new blood we were hoping would show and save us like some mystical cavalry failed to materialise. Maybe they'd seen the website. Maybe they'd seen the league tables. Maybe a civilised sunday of newspapers, pub and football on the telly appealed to them more than some relegation dogfight in the foreign fields of Wandsworth. Maybe the thought of being squeezed into a car and barely getting out of second gear for an hour and a half through some of the grubbiest streets of our fair city just did not appeal to them.However, we'd managed to track down 16 year old Kali after frantic phone calls. He'd been joyriding the leafy lanes of Kent all weekend with a bunch of his hooligan mates. After a few years of youth football he was more than willing to step it up and go a full 90 minutes for
Recreativo. What he didn't know was that he'd be marking the clone of Fulham's Papa Bouba Diop. Still..the boy done good.And with Sama Mansour available with a day off from selling 
programmes at White Hart Lane, we managed to get eleven eager souls down to South London which was indeed a victory in itself.The game plan was simple : no one was to get injured cos we had no subs. We would rely on battling ugly football a la Bolton. Toughtackles, long balls, win free kicks and corners. If they're calling for Sam Alladyce to take on the England job, then surely at this level we would get something out of the game? Well, you know the rest by now. Not even Jimmie's new F50+ boots could save us. Costing a £110 a pair, he mistakingly assumed that at that price they came with some magical powers, that if you rubbed them they transformed you into some Wayne Rooney. The magic didn't work. He admitted to feeling more like Wayne Sleep in his silver ballet shoes.We battled. We fought. Everyone gave their all. At times the football was very good. At others it was shit. And like most of the games we've played this season we were beaten by a fitter, stronger side. The question is, did we really care? After the long drive home and a Twilight Zone experience involving Marcus's car, a ghost petrol pump and five stiff-legged footballers staggering across a garage forecourt to demand of a bemused attendent nothing more than Chunky Kit Kats, the anwser is probably no. If we let things like results really effect us, we'd have folded a few weeks into our first season. But we're still there every game for the magic and ritual of it all.. the double checking of the kit bag, pumping up the balls, the meet up before the game for the banter and piss taking, the handshakes and high fives, the anticipation that hangs heavy in the dressing room. The Recreativo spirit is alive and kicking. It's gonna come good. Believe.
Team : Steve Jones, Mario Pisano, Marcus du Sautoy, Shane O'Prey, Scott Harris, Kali Gregory-Hagenstede, Jimmie Gregory, Chris Read, Ali Abdul, Godfred Sagoe, Osama Mansour.
Recreativo 1-5 Wednesday Wanderers 16.1.06
We enter the Marshes car park to the sight of the flashing blue lights of an ambulance and two carloads of fuzz. The morning's games are already being argued and fought over by the muddied and bloodied combatants of the footy fields. Ahh, it's good to be back! Two months winter break and we're ready to turn our season around. We take to the field with a full squad and in a buoyant mood, watched on by Harry, Paul's bulldog. That's a sign! A good omen, the bulldog spirit.. the fightback starts right now. Come on lads, let's be 'avin ya! Ok. You know the story. You've read it countless times over the past three seasons. The opening twenty minutes sees us match the oppo all over the park. Goodhand, Bradbury, Read and Mansour are passing to feet, maintaining possession, trying to find an opening. And then BANG! - the Wanderers fist shot on target finds the back of our net. Our goalie raises his hands as if surrendering and the pitful cry of 'sorry' is carried in the wind. The words 'namby' and 'pamby' spring to mind. Followed by
'limp', 'wristed', 'butter' and 'fingers'. Goalkeeper? I wonder if we could sue him under the trades description act. Images begin to formulate in my mind..a crossbar, a hangman's noose, a 54 year old man. It feels good. I'm telling some of the boys that the score doesn't really matter, the team is all about keeping everyone involved, but in truth inside i'm raging and wondering if I could possibly get away with committing a murder. Some of us are already eyeing up Harry the bulldog and wondering if the goalie's gloves will fit...There is no better feeling in the Universe than the overwhelming rush that washes over you when the team you are watching, or better still playing for, equalises. It's better than going one-up. It drags you out of the darkness and into the realms of the Gods. So Mario Pisano we salute you! His glorious shot from outside the box smashes into the old onion bag and we are back in it. Get in there you fucker! Oo-are-ya? Oo-are-ya? Oo-are-ya? You Saarff London mugs! Come on Hackney let's be 'avin ya!! But yes, you do know the story. We've been there so many times before. We can't defend a corner here, we're unable to deal with a long ball there, we fail to get hardly any more shots on target and hey presto we're 5-1 down. We trudge back to the dressing room defeated and a little sore. Back home a roast dinner awaits. Nut roast. Yorkshire puddings. Mash. Gravy. Three large glasses of Campo Viejo Rioja are greedily gulped. Both Spanish and Italian footy on the telly and bingo! Sunday football seems a bloody good pursuit after all. For all our results, for all our failures as wannabe Ronaldhino's (or even Ade Akinbye's!), we have in Recreativo a top bunch of boys, feeling the pain but turning out week after week ready to fight the good fight. Six games to go and then the summer awaits...yes we will train hard, yes we will reorganise, yes we will recruit new blood and yes whatever happens we will be back for more next season. Come on Hackney let's be avin ya!
Team : Steve Jones, Mario Pisano (Jimmie Gregory), Paul Daligan, Shane O'Prey, Scott Harris (Marcus du Sautoy), Jonathan Goodhand, Adam Bradbury, Chris Read, Godfred Sagoe, Osama Mansour, Jel Gregory (Kali Gregory-Hagenstede).
Royal Household 12-0 Recreativo 13.11.05
Question: 'What time's kick-off ?' Answer 'Every seven and a half minutes'. This was the lowest of the low in terms of results in the short history of this club. We'd more or less given up at 4 - 0, and you just had to laugh as our keeper and defence exchanged insults, the keeper threatening that he'd never play for this club again.... (if only!). Here we were, (only 1 - 0 down at the break), rag-bag oiks from Hackney, playing in London's richest borough, Kensington Gardens - a royal park, against the Queen's lackeys. The second half was more like the Household Cavalry. Yet somehow, those of us that were brave enough to venture into the Royal clubhouse for a post match pint and a packet of Quavers, managed a right laugh, and defiantly found ourselves in remarkably high spirits. Fuck the result. We were having a great time. A bar full of smiling faces, games of pool, and some post match analysis. How we laughed as we overheard our keeper telling the opposition ' I' ve tried to get the team to have more training sessions...' We all agreed that yes, he does need more shots. We all offered to do it with live ammunition! As we chatted with the victors, noticing the Balmoral polo shirts,
to attend the press conference wearing a bloody rugby shirt! Today, we get as near as most of us are ever going to get, at re-addressing the balance and having a go back at the decrepid House of Windsor. We take to the field in confident mood, bouyed by an ever expanding youthful squad. The Royalists are late, a man down and various members seem to be taking it in turns to put the goalie's shirt on. Igor the Ukranian ref gets the game started and from the off we're camped in the Royalists half. Our new formation is working wonders for the team and it's definately Recreativo who are in control of the game. Kali launches a blinding cross which sails in over the keeper's head and we go in at half time one-nil to the good. With both Mario and Shane injured for the second half, Sama steps into central defence, his lankiness, youth and confidence enough to put paid to any Royalist counter charge. Their one man up top goes down with the slightest of touches. Adam calls him a big girl. Ali gets a second and it's 2-0 to Recreativo, job done. We leave the field contented with the three points and working out the maths in a survival plan to stay up. It's probably too late in the day for that, but bodes well for next season. All in all, a bloody great day for the team spirit. Vive Recreativo! Vive la Republique!Team: Steve Jones, Mario Pisano (Scott Harris), Shane O'prey (Sama Mansour), Jimmie Gregory, Daniel Hall, Adam Bradbury, Kali Hagenstede-Gregory, Marcus du Sautoy, Godred Sagoe, Bilau Ali-Talib (Ali Abdul), Jel Gregory.
Shepherds Tuesday 3-3 Recreativo 12.3.06
Is it really 21 years since Class War led one of it's infamous 'Bash The Rich' marches up through the leafy lanes of Hampstead? It only seems like yesterday that some of us joined the angry inner city urchins on days out disrupting the wealthier areas of our class enemies, Hampstead, Kensington and the Henley Regatta. And so here we are today, back in Hampstead. The only battle we seem concerned with now is getting one over Shepherds Tuesday. It seems so much more important to us now than burning down the avenues of the rich. The team is beginning to shape up. Finally. We've left it a little late in the season to have any real chance of staying up, but after bringing in a few more..ahem..youthful players, a harmonious spirit and togetherness
seems to have rejuvenated the squad. We are even scoring goals. Today, in all areas of the field, we pass, we tackle, we battle hard. Marcus is back, in central midfield and not only let's the other team know it, but decides to take some of our own players down with him as well. That's the spirit! Get in there son! Overall, another good performance by everyone. Godfred, Jel, and 15 year old debutant Bilau get on the scoresheet. It's good that we leave the field slightly disappointed with just the one point, but there you go. Back to the dressing rooms and the banter is good. We drive back to Hackney listening to Man U v Newcastle on the radio, the voice of Alan Green punctuated with Daniel moaning at his mum for driving too slow, being in the wrong lane, not having any mints in the car. He's given a managerial warning on his future conduct. He has to be nice to his mum if he wants to play again. He promises he'll make 
her a cup of tea when he gets home which is good enough for us to include him in the squad for next week. Aah, next week...bring on Royal Household! We truly have to redress the balance for the good people of Hackney against the lackeys of the House of Windsor. Watch this space.Team : Steve Jones, Mario Pisano, Shane O'prey, Jimmie Gregory, Kali Gregory-Hagenstede, Adam Bradbury, Scott Harris (Bilau Ali -Talib), Marcus du Sautoy, Godfred Sagoe, Daniel Hall, Jel Gregory.
Recreativo 5-6 Clapham Eagles 26.2.0626.02.06
We may have been beaten black and blue in this division, but we've been top-of-the-league in our punctuality. Until today that is. So fair play to Anthony and his Eagles for beating us to the car park and even asking if we could get the game started early! We warm up on pitch number two. You know, the one right by the road with the endless traffic whizzing by. Pot shots at the old man in goal result in one of the club's three balls sailing high in the wind and popping under the wheels of a passing Ford Focus and disappearing into nothingness. This despite the actual goal being a bigger target than normal due to the fact that once we'd levered it into position, one end of the crossbar sloped a good 5 inches higher than the other. This game ended up being a
bloody good game of football. The past few months we'd endured some right beatings. Some of us have had to come to terms with our weak knees, our dodgy ankles, our communal sloth as a team. But once we dare to stare into the ugly mug of relegation and say, 'so fucking what?!!', we begin to feel our bodies unshackled, our pulses racing and our hearts booming deep inside us...big up your chests Recreativo, let's play some football. And that we did. The management announce an experimental diamond formation (ok, at times an octagon shape or octopus) with three at the back and five in midfield. Trying to sound all continental the words 'wing-backs' are uttered (if all else failed, we'd revert to the classic head-of-a-bull attack formation like in the film Zulu). Throwing caution to the wind we once again turn to our youth and ask Kali to go the full 90 minutes and throw 15-year old Daniel into the middle of the park and tell him to get on with it. And the boys done good. We matched the Eagles in all departments (goalkeeping..ahem..not included). Adam bossed the midfield like Edgar Davids in his prime, Godfred returned to his old form, positive, quick and strong and bagged a hat-trick and Shane confidently delt with winning the ball in the air (and was showboating with a pass off his chest!). We scored five and let in six. Today the score really didn't matter. If it wasn't for two silly goalmouth mistakes we'd have won this game. We came to really give it a go and left the field knowing we'd given our all. Viva relegation! Viva Recreativo!Team : Steve Jones, Mario Pisano, Shane O'prey, Chris Read, Scott Harris (Ali Abdul), Daniel Hall, Kali Gregory-Hagenstede, Adam Bradbury, Jimmie Gregory, Godfred Sagoe, Jel Gregory.
Recreativo 0-10 Bishops Park 12.2.06
Mid February. And today we get our first bit of proper footballing weather of the season. Rain, puddles, mud and slosh. Why do the British insist on playing this beautiful artful game in such ugly dirty weather? Anyway, we arrive at the Marshes discussing socks. On a pre-match pitch inspection earlier in the day, we'd seen another team wearing our kit, only with white socks. Aah, white football socks. There's something special about brilliant white football socks. Almost spiritual. Connotations of an all rampant Real Madrid tearing through the hearts of their opposition in the European Cup in decades past, Pele in his Santos kit, Jimmy Greaves in all-white Spurs Euro kit (yeah I know it was in black and white!). On taking charge of Chelsea in 1996, Ruud Gullit had insisited they ditch their blue socks for white ones. He said they looked so much smarter and so made the players stand tall and therefore gave them an edge. We had
toyed with the idea of wearing white socks when we first bought the kit, but try retaining that brilliant-white newness after a couple of games. Impossible. Maybe that was it! Maybe that was why we were on such a losing streak?! Never mind the football. Maybe it was all down to the colour of our socks. Recreativo 0 Bishops Park 10. The casual reader of this website can see we are in desperate times. The football isn't working. We've tried everything :well-drilled warm ups, swopping players positions, rousing team talks, praying, giving up chocolate for the week, spirulina tablets, self-flagellation with goal nets, leaving well stacked chillums in all four corners of the Marshes to appease Shiva, burying a freshly killed crow behind the goal of our oppo, East End voodoo, Solstice rituals, the lot. Next weekend we are off to grubby Wandsworth to face Lyric Celtic. If we come away with nothing then white socks will be ordered. If they don't work then..gulp...midweek training will begin. Watch this space.Team: Steve Jones, Mario Pisano (Scott Harris/Kali Hagenstede), Shane O'prey, Marcus du Sautoy, Jimmie Gregory, Adam Bradbury, Jonathan Goodhand, Chris Read, Osama Mansour, Godfred Sagoe, Jel Gregory.
Dynamo Landor 5-1 Recreativo 29.1.06
The omens were not good. Four or five key players were AWOL this weekend or sidelined by illness or called in to work. Shane had texted five minutes before the meet to ask whether we had a game this Sunday (something about vague emails), and the new blood we were hoping would show and save us like some mystical cavalry failed to materialise. Maybe they'd seen the website. Maybe they'd seen the league tables. Maybe a civilised sunday of newspapers, pub and football on the telly appealed to them more than some relegation dogfight in the foreign fields of Wandsworth. Maybe the thought of being squeezed into a car and barely getting out of second gear for an hour and a half through some of the grubbiest streets of our fair city just did not appeal to them.However, we'd managed to track down 16 year old Kali after frantic phone calls. He'd been joyriding the leafy lanes of Kent all weekend with a bunch of his hooligan mates. After a few years of youth football he was more than willing to step it up and go a full 90 minutes for
Recreativo. What he didn't know was that he'd be marking the clone of Fulham's Papa Bouba Diop. Still..the boy done good.And with Sama Mansour available with a day off from selling 
programmes at White Hart Lane, we managed to get eleven eager souls down to South London which was indeed a victory in itself.The game plan was simple : no one was to get injured cos we had no subs. We would rely on battling ugly football a la Bolton. Toughtackles, long balls, win free kicks and corners. If they're calling for Sam Alladyce to take on the England job, then surely at this level we would get something out of the game? Well, you know the rest by now. Not even Jimmie's new F50+ boots could save us. Costing a £110 a pair, he mistakingly assumed that at that price they came with some magical powers, that if you rubbed them they transformed you into some Wayne Rooney. The magic didn't work. He admitted to feeling more like Wayne Sleep in his silver ballet shoes.We battled. We fought. Everyone gave their all. At times the football was very good. At others it was shit. And like most of the games we've played this season we were beaten by a fitter, stronger side. The question is, did we really care? After the long drive home and a Twilight Zone experience involving Marcus's car, a ghost petrol pump and five stiff-legged footballers staggering across a garage forecourt to demand of a bemused attendent nothing more than Chunky Kit Kats, the anwser is probably no. If we let things like results really effect us, we'd have folded a few weeks into our first season. But we're still there every game for the magic and ritual of it all.. the double checking of the kit bag, pumping up the balls, the meet up before the game for the banter and piss taking, the handshakes and high fives, the anticipation that hangs heavy in the dressing room. The Recreativo spirit is alive and kicking. It's gonna come good. Believe.Team : Steve Jones, Mario Pisano, Marcus du Sautoy, Shane O'Prey, Scott Harris, Kali Gregory-Hagenstede, Jimmie Gregory, Chris Read, Ali Abdul, Godfred Sagoe, Osama Mansour.
Recreativo 1-5 Wednesday Wanderers 16.1.06
We enter the Marshes car park to the sight of the flashing blue lights of an ambulance and two carloads of fuzz. The morning's games are already being argued and fought over by the muddied and bloodied combatants of the footy fields. Ahh, it's good to be back! Two months winter break and we're ready to turn our season around. We take to the field with a full squad and in a buoyant mood, watched on by Harry, Paul's bulldog. That's a sign! A good omen, the bulldog spirit.. the fightback starts right now. Come on lads, let's be 'avin ya! Ok. You know the story. You've read it countless times over the past three seasons. The opening twenty minutes sees us match the oppo all over the park. Goodhand, Bradbury, Read and Mansour are passing to feet, maintaining possession, trying to find an opening. And then BANG! - the Wanderers fist shot on target finds the back of our net. Our goalie raises his hands as if surrendering and the pitful cry of 'sorry' is carried in the wind. The words 'namby' and 'pamby' spring to mind. Followed by
'limp', 'wristed', 'butter' and 'fingers'. Goalkeeper? I wonder if we could sue him under the trades description act. Images begin to formulate in my mind..a crossbar, a hangman's noose, a 54 year old man. It feels good. I'm telling some of the boys that the score doesn't really matter, the team is all about keeping everyone involved, but in truth inside i'm raging and wondering if I could possibly get away with committing a murder. Some of us are already eyeing up Harry the bulldog and wondering if the goalie's gloves will fit...There is no better feeling in the Universe than the overwhelming rush that washes over you when the team you are watching, or better still playing for, equalises. It's better than going one-up. It drags you out of the darkness and into the realms of the Gods. So Mario Pisano we salute you! His glorious shot from outside the box smashes into the old onion bag and we are back in it. Get in there you fucker! Oo-are-ya? Oo-are-ya? Oo-are-ya? You Saarff London mugs! Come on Hackney let's be 'avin ya!! But yes, you do know the story. We've been there so many times before. We can't defend a corner here, we're unable to deal with a long ball there, we fail to get hardly any more shots on target and hey presto we're 5-1 down. We trudge back to the dressing room defeated and a little sore. Back home a roast dinner awaits. Nut roast. Yorkshire puddings. Mash. Gravy. Three large glasses of Campo Viejo Rioja are greedily gulped. Both Spanish and Italian footy on the telly and bingo! Sunday football seems a bloody good pursuit after all. For all our results, for all our failures as wannabe Ronaldhino's (or even Ade Akinbye's!), we have in Recreativo a top bunch of boys, feeling the pain but turning out week after week ready to fight the good fight. Six games to go and then the summer awaits...yes we will train hard, yes we will reorganise, yes we will recruit new blood and yes whatever happens we will be back for more next season. Come on Hackney let's be avin ya!Team : Steve Jones, Mario Pisano (Jimmie Gregory), Paul Daligan, Shane O'Prey, Scott Harris (Marcus du Sautoy), Jonathan Goodhand, Adam Bradbury, Chris Read, Godfred Sagoe, Osama Mansour, Jel Gregory (Kali Gregory-Hagenstede).
Royal Household 12-0 Recreativo 13.11.05
Question: 'What time's kick-off ?' Answer 'Every seven and a half minutes'. This was the lowest of the low in terms of results in the short history of this club. We'd more or less given up at 4 - 0, and you just had to laugh as our keeper and defence exchanged insults, the keeper threatening that he'd never play for this club again.... (if only!). Here we were, (only 1 - 0 down at the break), rag-bag oiks from Hackney, playing in London's richest borough, Kensington Gardens - a royal park, against the Queen's lackeys. The second half was more like the Household Cavalry. Yet somehow, those of us that were brave enough to venture into the Royal clubhouse for a post match pint and a packet of Quavers, managed a right laugh, and defiantly found ourselves in remarkably high spirits. Fuck the result. We were having a great time. A bar full of smiling faces, games of pool, and some post match analysis. How we laughed as we overheard our keeper telling the opposition ' I' ve tried to get the team to have more training sessions...' We all agreed that yes, he does need more shots. We all offered to do it with live ammunition! As we chatted with the victors, noticing the Balmoral polo shirts,
we wondered if any of them had ever serviced Prince Charlie ? Or which one of them was responsible for brushing the Queen mum's teeth ? Or who did scrape off all the corgi shit stuck to Camilla's Jimmy Choos ? As we drove through the darkened west end on the way home past all the bright christmas lights and hustle bustle of determined shoppers, thoughts of the royal drubbing soon evaporated, as we discussed christmas lists, Selfridges' window display, sex shops, Burberry scarves from dodgy stalls, and this year's Paperchase christmas decorations. (In that order). Some say us football fans are a fickle bunch. Inside we hurt like hell. But in the grand scheme of things, it was nothing. 12 - 0, yet peversely it ended up being one of the best Reccy days out. Funny old game. God Save Recreativo Football Club.Team: Steve Jones, Mario Pisano, Marcus du Sautoy, Shane O'Prey (Kali Hagenstede), Jimmie Gregory (Scott Harris), Chris Read, Adam Bradbury, Jonathon Goodhand, Osama Mansour, Jel Gregory.
Recreativo 0-3 Shepherds Tuesday 6.11.05
2003. It seemed like a good idea at the time. We would put together a proper 11-side-team, made up of all the lads who turned up like clockwork for their weekly fix of sunday football in our local park. We would wear red, the colour of London, the colour of the most fabulous city in the world. Vibrant, life affirming red, the colour of passion, of life itself. The colour of revolution. Mike Tarnoky suggested we call ourselves Recreativo. He said it sounded Spanish, conjured up the magic and trickery of silky Latin skill. We would get super fit. We would train. We were going to be well drilled and a joy to watch. We were going to be the Barcelona of Stoke Newington. We wanted to represent the good people of Hackney, our manor, to truly be the people's team. We chose the glorious green expanses of Hackney Marshes as our home. A couple of us in the team had sprinkled the ashes of our dad over these pitches a decade ago, proud that he was trampling over this sacred turf, many, many moons ago. Hackney Marshes. It has resonance. Drop it into a conversation with some newly converted football fan in any of the pavement cafes along Church Street and watch their jaws drop in between their next mouthful of organic goats cheese bruschetta and skinny-latte-mocha-whatever-with-chocolate sprinkles. "I've heard about it.. but never been there!". (Of course you haven't you middle class wanker). Hackney Marshes is a special place. It's where our hopes, our wishes, our dreams and more often than not, our
nightmares unfold... Recreativo, the people's team, 0. Shepherds Tuesday, some team in grey, 3. It all seemed like a good idea at the time. We trudge off the mudfield like confused and shellshocked squaddies at the Somme. Paul's head is split open and bandaged. Our 53 year old keeper is hobbling on a injured ankle (some of the boys hope he's done permenant damage and has to hang up his gloves for good!). He puffs furiously on a fag to keep warm. The dry clothes most of us had brought for after the game are soaked through. The manager's son has dived head long into the Glastonbury-esque goalmouth. And just like last week and the week before (and next week) the same three or four players who put the nets up now take them down again. The dressing room looks like Al-Quaida have developed a new kind of mud-bomb and decided to test it on us. Dirt and grime, cigarette smoke, filthy sopping kit all over the floor. Shit-caked boots and sweat-soaked shin pads, wet nets and bloody soaked bandages. We watch carefully for Mario to place his unlucky green pants in his own kit bag. From grubby hands match subs are collected. A few of the boys are penniless again as they lace their nike trainers and answer their mobile phones. You can almost hear the sound of violins. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but today it just feels like shit. We get in the car and drive out of the car park as fast as we can. It feels like the most successful manouvre we have made all day.Team: Steve Jones (Scott Harris), Mario Pisano, Paul Daligan, Shane O'Prey, Jimmie Gregory (Ali Abdul), Chris Read, Adam Bradbury, Jonathon Goodhand, Dylan Williams, Godfred Sagoe, Jel Gregory.
Clapham Eagles 6-0 Recreativo 30.10.05
After Roma's recent dip in form and on the eve of the derby against city rivals, Lazio, 3000 Romanisti invaded the training ground to hand the players rosary beads and unfurl a huge banner..."Heaven Or Hell...It's Your Choice!". It was a stark warning that the fans would no longer put up with such inept displays from anyone who dared pulled on the sacred shirt of the Giallorosso...In a similar vein and coming a fortnight after lying down and letting Lyric Celtic trample over us, the wives and girlfriends of the Recreativo boys had promised to be waiting at home with rolled up copies of the Guardian (ala 'Millwall brick') in hand if we dared return after the match and announce another glorious defeat...the dinner would would be binned, the kit would go unwashed and any idea of a Sunday night shag...well...just forget it. How dare we bring shame back to our families. I for one crept very quietly into the house after our latest foray to the muddy fields of south London. Hands shaking as I fumbled with the key in the door, I tried desperately to feign that broad smiling happiness that accompanies a victory and pretend everything was alright. The last time I felt like this was when I was returning from some squat
rave at seven in the morning coming down from two e's and copious lines of speed and the mother-in-law was staying. She was hanging out the washing while my eyeballs rolled around the floor. I had to try and keep it together and it would all be alright. I failed. Miserably. It was my six year old son who twigged that we'd been battered again. Not even he would listen to my excuses this week. "They were younger.. faster...fitter...more organised.. the ref was a homer! We had players missing". He said two words, "you're crap" and wandered back to Spurs vs Real Madrid on the Playstation. "We were holding them at 0-0 in the first half..." I called down the corridor as his bedroom door slammed shut behind him. Silence. For the third game running I had brought back bad news from foreign football fields. Not even a plate of Linda McCartney pie and mash and a generous glass of Cabernet Sauvignon could wash over the torturous fever that gripped me. A hot bath and an early night and then the real nightmares begun as the second half of this game begun to unravel in my slumber.Team : Steve Jones, Mario Pisano, Shane O'Prey, Paul Dalligan, Roger Baird (Chris Read), Adam Bradbury, Jimmie Gregory, Scott Harris, Ali Abdul, Godfred Sagoe, Jel Gregory.
Recreativo 3-4 Lyric Celtic 16.10.05
Sunday football. Sunday bur-lud-ee football! All week you spend so much time envisaging how the game is going to pan out. The day before you might, just might, even clean your boots. Come match day you're pacing up and down looking at the clock at midday, eager to grab your kit bag and get out to the marshes. Into the car park which as usual is chocka with a cross section of Hackney's finest and fattest footballers. Into the dressing room which has been swept with the left over detritus of an earlier game, though the air thick with the gorgeous aroma of Deep Heat and it's on with the pre-match banter, the ritual of preparation, the putting on of kit. It felt good. It's what sunday is all about.... After previous bruising encounters against Lyric we were pleasantly suprised to take the game by the scruff of the neck. The first half we were like an AC Milan of the past, nothing getting past our solid back four and catching the oppo on the break. With Adam Bradbury and Chris Read winning everything in the middle of the park we pressed on and the goals soon came. First Sagoe, then Bradbury, then Spinola. 3-0 to the Hackney Boys. The turning point and what inevitably let Lyric back into the game was a dubious penalty
awarded against us for a ball-to-arm incident in our box. 3-1 just before the half time break.We took to the second half realising that all we had to do was stop them from scoring and we'd won the game. Having the sun in our eyes and the wind against us (and the ref against us!) is no real excuse to cave in. But that's what we did after sustained Celtic pressure. Despite Steve's claim to have had two hands on the ball, it was bundled across the line 3-2, ten minutes later 3-3. Then Matt Jeary charged into a tackle and won the ball deep in our own half and like Forrest Gump just kept on running..past one, two, three players..and running...to beat the keeper and send the ball half-inch wide of the post. Bollocks. If only... With three minutes to go you knew it had to happen. Like the AC Milan of Istanbul we were running down the clock. Over-elaborate and sloppy play down the left-wing saw us give the ball away needlessly. 3-4. Big Bollocks. The final whistle left the boys in green and white jubilant after such a fightback and the Hackney boys numb to the core. Matt was the only one brave enough to go to our shared dressing room, the rest of us simply couldn't face it. Sunday football eh...sunday bur-lud-ee football.
Team : Steve Jones, Mario Pisano, Matt Jeary, Shane O'Prey, Scott Harris (Kennedy), Jimmie Gregory, Adam Bradbury, Chris Read, Joao Spinola, Godfred Sagoe, Jel Gregory.
Bishops Park 7-2 Recreativo 2.10.05
We've been watching Charlton too much. Great first half, rout in the second. Let's dwell on the first. Reccy took a lead on two minutes after Jonathan Goodhand sent Adam Bradbury running, he touched the ball into Kwame Yeboah's path who, seeing the goalkeeper creeping off his line, struck first time from 20 yard with a glorious vicious dip. Surprise one nil to the Hacknistas. The miffed Bishops eventually hit back with a cunningly disguised long range scuff into the top corner. But Reccy did themselves proud for the rest of the half, stringing together one of our best ever team goals - flowing through Mario Pisano, Bradbury and Goodhand before Godred Sagoe spun his man and slotted home from 18 yards. Goodhand went close with a volley that was goalbound until Bishops' excellent keeper leapt across to beat the ball away. With Chris Read off injured Reccy began to lose their shape and on the stroke of half time Bishops broke us down with a long ball routine that was to set the pattern for the second half. After the interval, although we tried to keep playing our game the Blues' superior ability, pace and strength began to tell and two quick goals around the hour mark sent the Hackeny heads down. The
Boltonesque long ball rhythm was broken only by a 10 minute spell of pressure from Reccy with Shane Oprey heading wide from close range after making a determined run into the box. But by the whistle the home side had netted three more times and our journey home was a bit quieter than the one there.
Team: Steve Jones, Mario Pisano, Shane O'Prey, Joao Spinola, Marcus du Sautoy, Kennedy (Scott Harris), Adam Bradbury, Chris Read (Ali Abdul), Jonathan Goodhand, Godfred Sagoe (1), Kwame Yeboah (1)
Recreativo 2-1 Dynamo Lanor 18.9.05
We'd never scored a goal against this South London outfit in previous encounters, and knew that this would be a tough old battle. Feeling confident from the start, encouraged by them turning out in a Fulham away kit, we took the game to them from the off. Their static defence were no match for our fast and furious attacks, and some neat play from the forward line had ther goalie prostrate, enabling Godfed Sagoe to tap in a deliciously struck square ball from 3 yards. We had them rattled from early on as their heads went down and they argued amongst themselves and with the ref. (Resplendent in his 'Faces Nightclub' blouson jacket). He soon brandished his sharp shiny pencil as a Dynamo name went into the book. As the pedantics of the rules of the game were debated furiously between Dynamo and the man in black from Essex, - 'I'll knock you out' (to the ref), - 'I'll send the fucking lot of you off' - (to Dynamo), we took advantage of the mayhem, and with controlled proffessional gentlemanly conduct took hold of the game - Well, the first half anyway.... However, they soon turned it around second half, scored, and came mighty close, hitting the woodwork twice, and then wasting many a chance, aiming for the corner flag instead of the net! They must of had a lot to debate on their way back down South.
Team: Steve Jones, Mario Pisano (Jimmie Gregory), Marcus du Sautoy, Shane O'Prey, Joao Spinola, Ali Abdul (Kennedy), Chris Read, Adam Bradbury (Matt Jeary), Godfred Sagoe (1), Kwame Yeboah, Jel Gregory.
Wednesday Wanderers 4-2 Recreativo 11.9.05
Our first ever game in Division One ended in defeat, but not in despair, after a gutsy performance against the team who finished second in the league last season. Against a 'luminous tangerine' kitted out Wanderers, we were hoping to improve on the previous week's friendly encounter against Kenshalls FC, in which we played one of our most awful games to date. So with a military style shakedown and talking-to before kick off, we felt well and truly up for this. However, conceding a sloppy goal early on, we put it down to being too dazzled by the oppo's shirts. Welcome to Division One. Shane O'Prey wore the captain's armband with pride and put in a captain's performance always in the thick of it, leading from the back! He'd even been planning the spectacular late tackle beforehand, where he pole-axed a rampant orange shirt! Unfortunate
schoolboy errors cost us though, and all our grit and determination was to no avail. 2 fine goals from Kwame Yeboah kept us in it, and some slick passing from Jonathon Goodhand and Joao Spinola in midfield kept us in the running. So first game, and nul point, but a positive start all the same with a valiant team effort.Team: Steve Jones, Scott Harris (Ali Abdul), Matt Jeary (Jimmie Gregory), Mario Pisano, Shane O'Prey, Godfred Sagoe, Jonathan Goodhand, Joao Spinola, Kwame Yeboah (2), Kennedy (Marcus du Sautoy), Jel Gregory.
