I could go into great detail on this game, but why embarass people unnecessarily. This was not one of better games, in fact it was our worst.
For the first time in seven weeks TFK welcomed back the previously ostracised Cesc4. Coincidence?
TFK somehow managed to grind out a 5-3 victory and the great bandage was heard mutter that championship winning teams were defined by eeking out victories when playing bad. And boy did we play bad.
We went in at haf-time 4-2 up which falttered us immeasurably. this lead was thanks to finishes from Monkey Allen (who prior to scoring was reminscent of a Jason Lee post pineapple abuse), a fine finish from Cesc4, Monkey Allen again and a foot up agricultural stud stab home by Rocko.
The second half began with FMPI dominance and they could and probably should have scored more than one, but this goal brought it back to 4-3 and very nervey times for the TFK fans, who weren’t singing with their normal vigour.
It was around this time that Rocko showed why he is Manager, Captain, Chief Executive and tea Lady of TFK, by making a few key tactical changes, by instigating a better possesion game building from the back, imposing quicker and more frequent sub changes and asking Scrunchie to do a man marking job on their danger man - Phil. These little tweeks worked and TFK began to create chances. Create and squander lots of chances…
Rocko probably had the worst one where their keeper inadvertently played him the ball and with no one in the goal and facing it straight on, a tap in and breathing space seemed inevitable. But, Rocko’ has been watching too much Wimbledon and Cricket lately as he ran around his instep to take the shot with the outside of his foot. The ball started for the far left hand post but corkscrewed like a Shane warne bowl and managed to wide at the near post. He turned to his teammates with a sheepish look.
Scrunchie himself also intercepted a pass to get clean through and with only the keeper to beat he gave hm the eyes, and as the keeper dive to his right, Scrunchie tapped the ball into the empty net. Or so you would think as the ball drifted wide with the goal gaping.
But the shot of the night will go down to Monkey Allen. With Cesc4 playing an inviting ball across the square, Monkey let fly first time and the ball took off like a rocket - straight upwards. It was only when myself and Cesc4 were dropping Monkey back to his penthouse playboy apartment in the leafy suburb of Blackrock {Check: must get my agent to renegotiate my salary with Rocko} that we saw where his yellow missile landed, as we saw a young boy with the very same ball in his hands.
Eventually though relief was given by man of the Match Jugs, who played a one-two with Scrunchie and finished with aplomb. The crowd got their voice back, the team their confidence and the club three points.
Special mention goes to farmer who went on a mazey dribble in the second half only to get a nose bleed near the opposition goal and just played the ball out for a throw in.