Smiles abounded in a relaxed camp prior to Brooklands’ clash with old rivals Beeston. Faces popped in early, keen to avoid being late as a result of Diddle’s trundle around south Manchester, and as coffees were drunk and tactics rehashed, confidence brewed among a determined team.

The only worried face was that of Ben Wallace. He’d spent the night before with a mysterious stranger by the name of Craggle Gettums, and seemed to have a funny taste in his mouth. His state quickly descended and the poor chap had to withdraw from the squad, with Craig Getty surprisingly fast to answer the call to be his replacement.

At first whistle, Brooklands set about controlling the tempo. Short, crisp passing gave the men in white an advantage over the Beeston press as they dictated both tempo and territory in the early exchanges. It was the Bees who popped up with early chances though, winning a pair of corners from some scrappy interplay. Step up Officer Holmes, who charged the first down with the iron resolve of a tired copper quashing a peaceful protest, and Richard Slater, whose significant form scared their flicker into a wide miss.

Back at it, and chances started to come. Balls were finding their way on to the baseline and across goal, with just the last touches missing for the hometown studs. So confident were Brooklands that Rob Foxall-Smith decided that Beeston’s 11 men only counted for 10, and called a full press all by himself whilst 84 metres away from the ball. Some worried looks and choice oaths from Ralph soon disabused the boys of that notion, and RFS was sent back to his weird goalie hole where he belongs.

Despite the chances building, as Q1 drew to a close a frustrating 0-0 looked likely. That, however, was before Felix Tully sprung on a helpless fullback like Prince Andrew on prom night. Over the ball turned and, 1v1 with the keeper, Tully drew a cynical foul from the opposition. A stroke? No. Cards? No. But Brooklands didn’t need those favours as Pedro Flanagan slotted home for his first of the season with a low flick from the resulting corner. 1-0.

The second quarter was one of few chances. Brooklands controlled most of the play, and Beeston were stuck for ideas out of the back. Even when approaching the home circle, the away side’s only hope was to tonk balls hoping that they’d find a sloppy upgrade.

Unfortunately, fate decided to throw them a bone. A scuffle in the circle saw Leo Watton, calm as ever, shown a handful of grass for his part in some dancing, because apparently it only takes one to tango. Though Brooklands won the consequent bully, a lust for Nottinghamshire blood left our boys over committed up front and a quick counter left our defence stranded and subject to a cool finish from a black and yellow jersey as they overloaded the defensive 23. 1-1. Half-time.

The interval was calm by Brooklands’ standards. Both Flanagan's piped up, Dave mentioning how positive the home-side’s play was, and Pete going on about something called ‘Angle Theta’. Nerd. Khares then stepped in with his customary wisdom before the sides were back out and ready to rumble.

The second half started brightly, with Brooklands confident in retaining control over proceedings despite the level scores. Beeston looked for spaces, but were largely frustrated by smart work from a back 3 with more confidence than Johnny Bravo with a jagerbomb inside him. Some chances did pop up, but Rob Foxall-Smith saved high and low to keep Beeston searching. Dan Vincent, our valiant MoM also capped his performance with a divine header from a PC, one which would have ended a hairier-headed gentleman.

As the quarter wore on, Craig Getty - who turned up casually late for the game - got lost and confounded by the hubbub of the fixture. Without noticing his nosebleed, he found himself sauntering in the opposition circle before realising in a fit of surprise that he had managed to bring the ball with him.

‘Why not?’ thought he. Exactly right Craig, why not swing the back of your stick at the ball? And so he did.

Bounce 1, Beeston player: ‘back stick umpire!!’

Bounce 2, Kev: ‘MINE!’

Bounce 3, Beeston’s goalie: ‘LEAVE!’

Bounce 4, the backboard: ‘clink.’

2-1.

But the rapturous celebrations were short-lived. Beeston used the start of Q4 to take advantage of some slow set up by Brooklands, winning a corner off the pads. A deft flick to the left post went unmatched and suddenly the fame was again level. 2-2.

For the neutral, the vibe was abuzz, but there was no doubt that Brooklands had the feel of a side about to take 3pts. The interchanges were dangerous, and some filthy aerial touches were setting up some shwifty scenarios. Play in the Beeston circle got hairy but a failure to poke home was beginning to tell.

Cometh the hour, cometh the scrum cap. With 6 minutes left Andrew Jackson latched on to some excellent build up to find himself 1v1 with the keeper. Without a second thought, Jackson lofted a delicious ball over the rushing goalie and into the waiting net. He didn’t even buy him breakfast first, the scoundrel. 3-2 to the good guys, 4 minutes to go.

Brooklands went to kill the game, a full man to man called to snap shut any door of opportunity on Beeston’s creeping fingers. Unfortunately, some sluggish set up yet again gave Beeston a sniff, and on some good break play the Bees managed to win a corner from nothing.

As the masks were going on, a nonchalant Foxall-Smith managed to tell the umpire that he’d played in New Zealand - did you know he’d played in New Zealand? - for reasons unknown. Maybe he forgot we were still playing, maybe he’s just a bumbling cretin, who knows? The official managed to shake him off at last and the play was set.

A sharp run top D looked to have done the stuff to close the chance out, but a trailing stick knocked the ball past a helpless defence to give Beeston a reward beyond that which they merited. 3-3.

Of course, the rest of the game was played out fruitlessly and the rest consigned to history.

Another 3-3 draw, but a performance to take plenty of confidence from. 1 point isn’t 3, but M1 are now 3 unbeaten and improving week on week. On to Surbiton.