The neutral watching this game might have wondered what Jeff's Chippy are doing in tablebottomland and what Reccy are doing in or around the other end. He or she might have wondered which game the guy in black with the whistle was watching. The neutral watching this game might have wondered when it became OK for a defender to use his arm in the penalty area. The neutral watching this game might have wondered how many times Reccy have to hit the bar before the ball goes under it. He or she might have wondered why half the Reccy boys stopped to wait for a whistle for a foul only to see Chippy's one shot of the second half nearly break the top corner from a very acute angle. The neutral watching this game might have wondered if Reccy could come back from that 80-minute sucker punch only to see Ben rifle in an equaliser with 5 minutes to go.
The neutral watching this game might have searched their rule book to see if persistent cute passive-aggressive questioning of the ref's decisions qualifies for an award under Bafta rules. He or she might have wondered why the wind always seems to blow on Clapham Common and the playing surface feels like a ploughed field, and they might have wondered if that's why the Reccy passing game didn't quite come off for long stretches.
The neutral might have wondered how long Chippy's unlikely run of form will go on ("we're a bit miserable with it" said one of them after the game). Most of all, the neutral watching this game might have wondered what the fuck they were doing watching this game when there's all sorts of entertaining stuff to do on a Sunday these days.
Team: Adam Bradbury, Max Bland, Tomas Winter, Tino Hernandez, Joao Spinola, Joe Haley, Ben Chambers (1), Connor Joseph, Dan Hare, Jimmie Lloyd, Joe Dunthorne, Liam Greenaway