Latymer Vets away at North Greenford United (lost 10-4)

A game of two halves? You'll never believe how much of an understatement that cliche really seems right now...
Sunday's game was the first time in a long time that I have come away from a match feeling really really frustrated and really really pissed off. Going straight to the punch-line - we lost 10-4! Not a great result at all but made so much more annoying because we were actually winning at one stage 3-4...
I hate feeling the way I did because, like everyone else, I play to enjoy it. Getting spanked each week in the end becomes proper tough and eventually heads are down before you even start the next game - invariably resulting in another heavy defeat. Prior to joining Latymer I managed and played for my work team, ALC FC and the first half of our inaugural season saw us get hammered nearly every week. Thankfully, after Christmas in that season we did turn it around and enjoyed a bit of a winning streak that saw us finish a very respectable mid-table and in turn we all loved our football again. It just goes to show that things can turn around very quickly - especially at Sunday morning football level where the gap between teams often comes down to fitness, belief, and commitment.
Football literally is a funny-old-game (another great cliche - I think I'll try and cram lots in to this post) because one minute the team you play for look like they would be better playing netball than football, and the next minute it's just like watching Brazil - well OK then, Barnet - but you know what I mean.
I think the problem the Vets are facing at the moment is putting out a settled side each week. For whatever reason, availability is an issue as we seem to only be able to keep a set of about seven or eight usual faces, with different players from the squad making up the numbers each week.
Without doubt this is no-one's fault. Vets are of the age where families and wives and other necessary commitments mean it's not always easy to be around every Sunday. I think that all the boys would love to play every week - but for different reasons just aren't able to. We're at the age where knocks and scrapes take longer to heal too so there will always be weeks where someone can't feature because some big lump kicked them the week before! We're not kids anymore so the freedom to do what we like every Sunday just isn't realistic and responsibilities in other parts of our lives play their part too.
I do think, however, that with a settled team or squad each week we would have more, essential discipline in our actual play resulting in better performances and of course more wins.

Yet again, the opportunity to play in a 'stadium venue' presented itself on Sunday because North Greenford United allow their Vets to use the main pitch complete with the odd tiny stand and dug-outs etc. Once again, the pitch was massive although the actual playing surface wasn't the best. A bit bobbly in places and a wee bit hard.
It was nice to see a couple of the lads who I'd only seen on my very first game such as Andy (AK) and Luffy, and in total we had 13 players  - not too bad really. Lev announced that Pete wanted to play midfield today which in truth was met with the odd raised eyebrow from one or two - Pete would have the last laugh though as he put in a proper shift during the game and claimed our third goal (more of that later.)
I was well up for it as I hadn't played for three weeks and hoped that wouldn't have too much of an effect.
The game started and I remember talking to myself "Come on Greg - let's have a good one today."
Two minutes later we were 1-0 down - and yep, it was kinda my fault. The ball came forward into the left corner of my box and Nick the Skipper had time to get it away - in-fact I did call "AWAY" as their attacker charged in. Nick chose to trust me and rolled it over to me to kick it clear. Good idea - except I totally scuffed my kick straight to one of them. OK, so it did get defected for a corner but of course as it floated over to my back stick their big number 10 rose and headed home.
I'd seen him before kick-off and had thought he'd be good in the air. We always seem to come up against big blokes and this chap looked like Grant Mitchell - bald, a bit fat, and like he could rip my head off with one hand. Oh what joy...

Latymer Vets then decided that for the next thirty five minutes they were going to play some of the best football I think I've ever seen from any team mates I played with. It was unbelievable. Nick did his usual and organised the defence, Mark and Luffy were so in tune with each other down the left hand side it was silly, Lev was doing a sterling job moping up any loose balls and Jonesy was (as ever) totally running the midfield. Add to that Paul and Matt up front who were running their socks off and Shamsey who, standing in at Right-Back was putting in a great performance. I like Shamsey - he's a quiet lad who just wants to be involved and is happy to play wherever and whenever he is asked. I also think he's a better player than he's perhaps given credit for. Lots of energy and quite skill full too.
The passing on show was simple but very effective. We kept the ball and created space by actually moving for passes back. We really deserved a goal and a second of quick thinking saw Matt (I think) deliver a superb throw-in for Paul to run onto down our left channel. The finish was bloody brilliant as a firm chip flew over their keeper who was nowhere as it went over his head. 1-1.
Minutes later and we were only bloody 2-1 up!! This time it was Matt who was put through (possibly by Paul - I couldn't see) and again an almost carbon copy of a superb finish from just about the same position as Paul's goal was lofted over the hapless Keeper who looked gutted to have been beaten twice by the same sort of shot.
Delirium nearly set in as not long after that we only went and chuffing scored again!! And yes it was that man Pete who calm as a cucumber slotted past the keeper after yet another superb quick throw-in went past their back line in to the path of 'Powerhouse Pete.' Shamsey had done brilliantly (although a little dangerously) dribbling the ball out of the Right-back position and past two of their players and then managing to win the all important throw-in. I'm not sure if this throw-in tactic is one that we've developed or planned because I think Lev had said that our goal the week before came in a similar fashion, and we also scored one in the same way a few weeks back against Garston. Even so, Pete found himself with all the time in the world and had plenty of time to get 'the fear' and miss. He didn't, and we would have loved the game to have ended their and then. Alas not...
Yet, again we did what only we seem to be able to do - self-destruct and implode.
Greenford managed to pull us back to 3-3 with 2 quick goals which probably came from a lack of concentration somewhere. I wasn't having my best game. It must be said my earlier scrappy kick had pissed me right off and I was doing my best to get my head back into the game properly. The way we had been playing had helped ease pressure of my goal area but then with ten mins to half time we just stopped doing all the good things that we had  been doing to get our three goals. The break came and I think we were glad to go in at 3-3 as they had taken control back of the game.

We were well in with a chance of winning the game if we could only recapture half of the form from the first half. We even managed to go 4-3 up inside ten minutes of the restart as we pushed on to try and take all three points. A super free-kick into their box saw Paul rise and get a headed flick past their keeper and we thought game-on!

Then came half an hour of naive football and we simply imploded. There were no-more highlights and we conceded two quick goals to go 5-4 down. They cut us open down our right and we switched off too much. Goals six and seven followed quickly and while on a personal note I was pleased to get a double stop in with a push onto the bar from one looping shot and a Hollywood leap to my left to turn the follow up round the post - I was to blame for goal number eight when from the resulting corner I came flying out, screamed "Keepers!" and totally missed my punch on an easy ball leaving Grant Mitchell an easy powerful header to score. Gutted.
Grant Mitchell ended up scoring five as they added two more goals to finish at 10-4. Unbelievable. There was even another slightly smaller bald fat bloke who scored a couple for them - must've been Grant's brother, Phil.

Totally a game of two halves. Embarrassing really because we let ourselves down and our tails were well and truly between our legs as we trudged off.

The positives are there to take away - my only hope is that we don't let this result and second half performance get to us too much. Lots more games to play still, so fingers crossed for a bit of luck next week.

This weeks look-a-like has to go to Wrexy - who I actually haven't seen for a few weeks but genuinley looks like Steve McClaren!

Latymer Vets v William Fitt in the AFA cup. LOST 1-4

Just a brief post this time to keep a bit of a time-line together in terms of how the Vets are doing this season. I had to miss the game as it fell on my birthday and we had made plans to go down to Gosport to visit my parents and have a night out with friends in Gunwharf.
37 years of age now!! Crikey, it seems a bit unreal - only because in my head I'm still 21...
The funny thing is that I'm probably more looking my age than ever before now because I've stopped dying my hair. The Vets lads will know no different as they've only ever known me with the plethora of white hair that now flecks through my barnet. Little do they know but I only stopped dying it black after my wedding in June of this year. I'd always said that I would never stop dying it because I knew just how much chuffing white hair would show if I didn't! Vain? Hell yeah!!
It started about ten years ago really. I started getting funky salon-type hair cuts with shaved bits and cropped sides etc and had a full head of dyed black hair with other extreme colours streaked through it at different stages. Each hair cut was always different with a new colour every time ranging from red to purple to blue to blond to anything that goes! I thought it looked cool and for a time it complemented my DJ image...and cost a fucking bomb every time! I think I spent more on bloody hair cuts than anything else!
In the last year I went black all over and cut the funky colours and even then stopped the funkier cuts and went for something a 'bit more my age.'
Ewelina had harped on at me about just letting it go completely and I scoffed at her - Never in a million years! I had this fear of looking like Father Fucking Christmas because if I let my beard grow I really do look like a sun-tanned Kris Kringle.
Anyway, with the approach of my 37th birthday it just sort of hit me to give it a go and stop putting colour in my hair. And as it turned out, I actually don't mind it at all. It's certainly different to what I've been used to but Ewelina is very happy with it and most people say "oooh it looks much better now!"
The only person who turned her nose up when she saw the new-look grey was my flaming Mum! Never one to hold back her opinion she told me I look old now! Cheers Mum, love you too!

So the Vets team drafted in Lev 'Yashin' to stand between the sticks in my stead and by all accounts were a little unlucky with what I've heard was a fairly decent performance. Lev sent out an email to sum up the performance which featured a dislocated shoulder for Lol, who was back to get a game in at left-back as the game fell on a Saturday this time. Thankfully, Lol was able to get discharged from hospital fairly quickly and was left feeling rather sore. Now unavailable on Sundays due to committing to take his son to his own match for Latymer Youth, Lol is trying to retire full stop! The boys are having none of it though so hopefully he'll be coaxed in to playing again in the future.
Lev's email was as follows:

'Against a good, previous winner of the competition we gave a reasonable account of ourselves.

Pete put us 1-0 up early on after a long throw from Matt surprised everyone with its distance.

It certainly shows we can compete BUT cannot afford to switch off at any time. 3 first half goals were results of someone somewhere switching off for a minute resulting in us getting into problems and conceding unnecessary goals, one a penalty.

The second half was a bit scrappy but we did play some better football and kept the ball better. Yes the oppo were still the better side and had the better chances but it showed that when we competed and got in their faces a bit they lost a bit of shape.

We were unfortunate to play last 15-20mins with 10men because of a serious injury to Lol who dislocated his shoulder. The shoulder was put back in on site by the ambulance staff and after a visit to the hospital and a quick decision not to wait two hours for an x ray he was home, early in the evening although stiff and sore is all well.

Thanks to Adam who looked after lol while he was waiting and Dino who went with him to hospital.

It also showed that Subs are not subs in our game, and we should consider all named as a squad. Thanks to Scottish John who borrowed a car to get to the game and came on after 20 mins when Adam pulled his hamstring'

So, we look forward to better times this Sunday as we go off to play North Greenford United. I'm really looking forward to the game as it's three weeks since the Winchmore tournament and I haven't played since. The team is looking a bit thin on the ground again due to absences and injuries so possibly a bare eleven!! Come on lads - we need a better squad out on a Sunday if we're going to compete in any way shape or form.

No look-a-like this week as I was away so I'll target someone on Sunday!

Winchmore Hill Vets Tournament

I love tournament football.

It takes me back to when I was a kid of about nine or ten and was playing for my very first 'proper' team, Centurion Colts and then later on, Gosport Raiders. I remember playing in various 5-a-side tournaments and loving the atmosphere generated by the sheer amount of different teams (sometimes as many as twenty) and all the mixed colours of team kits and over-eager parents cheering (and jeering!) the kids on.

Those first days in playing organised football are as fresh in the mind as if they were yesterday. Although in my teenage years and early twenties I was more of a centre-back/midfielder, I did begin as a goalkeeper. I have no idea why I ended up in goal except that I genuinely loved it between the sticks and was actually pretty good. It started in the playground at junior school where we used to play something like 18-a-side, kicking a tennis ball around (we weren't allowed proper balls - they broke windows and were deemed too dangerous!) with me between a school jumper and the netball post and diving around scraping my knees trying to make saves. Not bad training really - if you can save a tennis ball then a proper football should be no problem...

I ended up playing for Colts because the word circulated that there was to be an under 9's team and so me and pal, Andrew Simpson rocked up and signed up! I only thought to ask my parents after joining the club. Luckily my Dad was happy for me to play and in truth I think I remember him saying that he was once a goalkeeper when he was young too. Dad is my hero so I think that the decision was made there and then. The very first game I ever played was a cold, wet Sunday morning and we were playing Seagulls, the top local club that had a billion teams and won everything. Damien, who would later become my best pal of 25 years was actually on the bench for Seagulls that day and we got stuffed 14-0. The best bit was that I had an absolute corker of a game and was given the bloody man-of-the-match award by our manager!! I even remember his words: "in spite of the score-line, the award goes to Greg." I almost began to cry with pride - it didn't matter that I'd actually let in fourteen fucking goals - but managed to stop myself and ran in to my Dad's arm who wasn't, it seemed, as successful as me at holding back the odd tear.

Nostalgia is a wonderful, funny thing. I bet we all can conjure up memories of yester-year and the ghosts of a footballing past that we all wish we could have again, even if just for 90 minutes.

My time with Colts took a turn for the worse when Bryan Timmins' Dad, also called Bryan, took over the running of the team. Bryan Senior was a bit of a fat, gobby bastard who just rubbed people up the wrong way. You know how it goes, a change of Manager means a change of regime, he brings in his own staff and team and new players and noses are put out of joint. And this was bloody kids football! And so a plot was conceived and a splinter group formed meaning a new team, Gosport Raiders, was born and bastardized under the expert management of Andrew Simpson's chuffing Mum!!

Gloria. Oh Gloria! You knew absolutely fuck all about football but bless you, you tried. In fairness, she only agreed to set up the club because of Andrew but my God we were shit. I played for them for two years before going off to boarding school (lots of stories in later posts I'm sure) and we only ever won one game. We got hammered every week and I developed a bad back from bending down to pick the ball out of the net! But it was at one of those 5-a-side tournaments that we actually ended up surprising everyone and getting to the final. Of course, we lost, but that didn't matter. We had been a decent outfit that day and come really close to glory.

So expectations were high in anticipation of the Winchmore Hill Tournament, featuring eight teams split in to two groups of four. 9-a-side, ten minutes each way, rolling subs and no offsides!! Lev set the tone in his email with the immortal words in his email on Thursday:

'With this youthfull looking side mixed with a blend of experience we are looking for glory in a tournament in which twice we have graced the final.'

Final? Fuck me a chance for a medal! I have to say I was more than a little excited by this carrot that was being dangled and the chance to exorcise the demons of a lost final aged ten was firmly in my sights. I was intrigued by the format too. 9-a-side and on a full-size pitch too! Surely this would mean an open style of game with lots of goals? It would also mean all the poor sods out on the pitch would be well and truly shagged. Yet again, I was more than a little bit chuffed that I was in goal.

Of course one thing that nobody factored for was the weather.

Ewelina opted not to come along but made me rolls and flasks of tea and coffee etc and off I went thinking I might get a bit of a tan.

Never in all my years can I ever remember a start of October like it. Ewelina and I enjoyed a lovely Saturday afternoon walking Jasper in the blistering sun that broke all records as the hottest October day in something like a hundred years. Sunday, the day of the tournament, of course just happened to hotter still.

Our squad was looking pretty decent but a real spanner was thrown into the works when news broke that Jonesy was going to be arriving late and might miss our first group match. Now I'm still getting to know everyone but I have sort of gathered that Jonesy is a bit of a die-hard Latymer chap and is a proper club man. So I thought it must be something pretty serious such as a dying Grandma etc for him to be arriving late... Er, No.

Jonesy had apparently forgotten about his other half's birthday which was the day after the tournament (Monday) and hadn't organised a birthday present!! Of course, the shops close early on a Sunday so in a panic he was flying around Enfield Town waiting for the doors to open so he could secure a gift and then race over to the rest of the team. Needless to say he came in for a bit of stick when he did finally arrive - just moments after our first game had indeed finished. I'm not sure if the sat nav that he got was for her or for him...As it turned out I think the team could have used it because we were well and truly lost for most of the day.

There were yet another couple of new faces for me to meet in our team as Gaz, Barnsey and Shamsey hadn't made it to either of the previous Vets fixtures. All really lovely fellers and really easy to get along with. Barnsey was definitely another proper staunch Latymer stalwart and was kind enough to declare a genuine interest and appreciation for this blog as he actually lives in Sweden and as he is only really ever back in the UK once a month, my write-up each week keeps him in touch with the games and what is going on. This was music to my ears of course because it is for these very reasons that I do the blog. Barnsey was very much a hands-on sort of chap and a definite leader. He reminded me of Hannibal from The A Team because he's got a super head of grey hair and seemed to be the one who had the plan. All that was missing was the leather gloves and the big fat cigar!

I totally missed the actual names of the other teams in our group but can tell you that we had a team in Yellow, a team in Blue and a team wearing the full West Ham kit! We watched a decent enough game that saw Yellows beat West Ham 1-0 and then it was our turn against the Blues in our first game.

This was a match that in hindsight should have gone a whole lot better than it did. The good thing was that we didn't lose - but then, we didn't win either. The best we could manage was 0-0 in an encounter where we actually played some decent passing football. Sadly, we lost Phibsey after only two minutes when his thigh muscle popped when taking a corner. A really decent player with lots of energy and good pace too! We tried to keep the ball as much as possible and the heat was by this time scorching. Scottish John even went on a mazy wee run towards their box only to brought down just outside the area. The chance to do something from the free kick was wasted when the ball hit the wall and all of a sudden the first ten mins were up and it was half time. Our second half performance saw us have the lions share of the ball and we really should have scored on more than one occasion. I think Paul will hold his hands up because he scuffed a couple of decent chances and we were nearly undone when they almost nicked it in the dying seconds. I'd had a fairly quiet game, having only really touched the ball a couple of time in the whole match. I dealt with one rasping shot straight at me with no problems and then right at the end we were carved open from pushing a little too high up the pitch. Luckily the ball that was put through was just a tad heavy and Codsey, playing superbly in the heart of the back three, got back and hassled the opposing striker just enough as the ball sprang through to me. It was at a funny sort of height and I had visions of me fumbling it forward back into the path of their man. As it was I went to ground and decided to let it rebound off my my knee and fortunately it flew off to my left and was cleared to safety.

Nil-fucking-nil. Not the end of the world at all. I mean England always draw their first group game in any championship and then progress through don't they...?

So Jonesy arrived and we had a break while West Ham beat the Blues and then we were on for our second game against the Yellows. We all knew that whilst we had just played the weakest team in the group we were now probably coming up against the strongest.

This was definitely a tougher encounter and all of a sudden we just stopped playing. Balls shanked off knees, passes went astray and nothing seemed to run our way. We lost our passing game and just couldn't seem to get into the match. The Yellows dominated the play and we were literally chasing shadows. The heat was making us all fucked and in truth the break after our first game didn't help. It would have been much easier maybe if we been able to play straight through. We got to half time at 0-0 but my moment of the day did actually come in that first half. They attacked down our right and the ball ended up at the feet of one of them just inside my box. The shot that was unleashed was powerful and was flying over my head but I did manage to somehow get enough of a flick from my left hand to send it over the bar. Phew!

In spite of not actually threatening their goal I actually thought we were going to make it two 0-0 draws in a row but alas it wasn't to be. Yellows broke down our right and it was played across my six yard line where Mr. Attacker easily slipped the ball past me. I was pissed off because I wished I had scrambled over quicker and closed the angle better. The game finished 1-0 and with that it meant we had to beat West Ham to stand any chance of finishing second and going into the semi's.

Our lot were a bit jaded really going into the last match and the pace was somewhat slower from the off. Maybe they were fucked too?! Again, we were sloppy and again we just couldn't organise much of a threat on their goal. Nick and Jonesy were trying to run things from the midfield and Mark was doing well getting up and down our left but our final ball just never seemed to come off. Yet again though we got to half time at 0-0. Nick, absolutely went bonkers as we were giving the ball away loads and we knew we needed a goal from somewhere. Frustratingly, within two minutes of the restart there was a goal - from them. Their pressure on our goal paid off as a low shot from the edge of the area found its way low and hard just inside my left post. Could I have done better? I don't know. I saw it in plenty of time and if I was a few inches taller or had longer arms then maybe.

2-0 came a couple of minutes later when the ball flew was lashed in from my right and richoched of Nick's knee and literally flew in between my legs grazing my nuts on its way into the net.

And so that was it. Three games, one point, zero goals scored and three against. There had been talk of the losing sides going into a knockout for the 'plate' but the heat and dejected spirit of all the four teams that were 'out' meant that we didn't bother so instead we headed for the bar and free lasagna & chips.

There's nothing quite like an ice cold Magners on a scorching hot day. Some of us stayed and watched the Yellows get beaten in the final 2-1 by Winchmore Hill but most intriguing was the news that they had a bloke playing for them up front who had genuinely played for fucking Marseilles in the flaming Champions League!! No offence but that just takes the piss.

No Lev either this week which was a shame because I was hoping I could borrow his talc!

And so to a bit of housekeeping...

This weeks look-a-like must go to Alex 'Hannibal' Barnes.

I love it when a plan comes together.

And finally, I've put a poll up which I'd appreciate you selecting from. It's for which squad number you think should go on to the back of my goalkeeper shirt. Do make a selection please as well as popping yourself down as a follower of this blog. You can also write your email address into the strip on on the top right corner and you'll receive an alert whenever there is a new post.