Joe D writes:
Long, long ago, I was asked to write a match report. Looking
back now, that Sunday at Regent’s Park two and a half weeks ago shimmers like
the summers of our childhood. On that day, the sky was a perfect blue, what few
clouds there were hung like marshmallows, and winning by five goals was as
simple as breathing.
Most of our team arrived early enough to spend a lazy hour
on the knoll, wondering how we’d only managed a draw to SS Ladzio, the week
before. Today we would put that right. We watched Ben and Joe H. practice
long-passing and marveled that they weren’t in the England Under 21s. We talked
about Liam’s burgeoning career at Barnet, Joe G’s at Orient. Our team seemed
drenched in quality. Mostly, anyway. It was my first game back, and I could
tell just by the warm-up that I was going to shank a few clearances, but other
than that we looked great. And so it was to be.
Liam scored a terrific one-on-one to get things moving. It
was one of those chances that – in January snow on the marshes – you can
imagine us missing, but today, it seemed so easy. Soon after, Liam knocked in
another; it was probably brilliant; I can’t quite remember anything except for
the warm glow of our destiny. There followed a headed goal by Max. And another
headed goal by Max. It felt so natural to be 4-0 going in at halftime. This was
surely how all games would proceed: sunshine, comradeship, and a flood of
quality goals.
In the second half, they did score a goal although I
couldn’t tell you a single thing about it. It hardly feels like it happened. It
was nothing more traumatic than wafting away a wasp at a picnic. Somewhere
along the line, I cleared the ball from our own six-yard box by booting it
directly up. It went so high, so straight, that both times got enough time to
take a moment, enjoy the dawning realisation that we would look back upon this
day as the apex of happiness.
Soon after, Liam got his hat-trick with a lovely chip. Liam
had only got in from a night out at 5am that morning, so it was impressive to
see him score a goal for every hour of sleep he’d got.
The referee blew the final whistle and SS Ladzio had the
responsibility for taking the nets down and all was right with the world. Oh,
the memories.