This niggly game degenerated into a scene most unbecoming of young gentlemen - with a player sent off from both sides for swiping at each other over who had the nicest parents or something. The game rarely got going past the next free kick for a pull, tug, push, climb, rash challenge, dissing of the ref - both sides laying out the full repertoire of footballing sins.
Amid the anti-football matter a competent Clapham put four past an out-of-sorts Recreativo. Two came within the first 10 mins - one an unlucky own goal, the second from defensive dithering - followed in the second half by a cheeky slice from a corner and one decent volley from 12 yards. In truth those were about the only attempts on goal Clapham had. And we certainly had at least an equal share of possession. But they defended and passed better. And they've got posher kits.
And our excuses? Too many weekends off? Too many straightforward wins? Forgotten how to deal with going behind? Too little tracking back? Disoriented at playing a so-called home fixture at the Theatre of Nightmares south of the river? All of the above.
So we're out of the cup for this season. And the proverbial opportunity to concentrate on the league beckons like a desperate vicar welcoming a bunch of militant secularists to bolster his/her evaporating congregation. We expect normal Sunday service to be resumed next weekend.
Team: Adam Bradbury, Max Bland, Liam Greenaway, Joe Dunthorne, Joe Haley, Joe Grubb, Jimmie Lloyd, Ben Chambers, Chris Chambers, Aaron Gayle, Connor Joseph, Mario Pisano.