Best teas in the league

No prizes for guessing why this match report was such a long time coming. No one likes to report on a defeat, especially when it’s the second on the run after what had been a very promising preseason build-up. It’s safe to say that, five weeks down the line, we’ve all just about got over it. Except Mel. She never gets over it.

Anyway, with a healthy squad of fifteen and in the knowledge that Preston had only narrowly missed out on relegation last season by the skin of their teeth, we were feeling confident. There was definitely no complacency, as that’s just not how we roll, but having been drawn away to Harrogate in our first game of the season, we certainly felt that this would be a much easier follow up and an opportunity to chalk up some points.

Perhaps it was the wonderful sunny day that lulled us into a false sense of security? Perhaps it was the entire Smith and Jones clans gracing the sidelines putting us off? Perhaps it was the smell of the Mediterranean in the air from the incredible paella teas in the making? Whatever it was, we did not get off to the most ideal start. Preston clearly knew they were the underdogs with a point to prove, and we were definitely letting them make it. First touches just weren’t quite there, and 50:50 balls were more like 90:10s in the opposition’s favour. Before long, a scrappy defensive short corner saw us go 1-0 down and we knew we were in trouble. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go, and our dented sense of expectation caused heads to seriously drop.

As usual, it took until the second half for us to fully regroup, and after a barrage of near misses, a scuffle of our own in the attacking D saw Linaker slot home the equaliser. Whilst this served to boost our spirits a little, nothing could have prepared us for what happened next: a rogue ball deflected unexpectedly off a Brooklands stick outside the 25 to lob the BPHC keeper, skimming her pads like a small, round, orange, dimpled ninja and trickling into the back of the net! Admittedly, there are members of the team who don’t know the rules of our beloved game past the number of players allowed on the pitch and the fact that you can’t kick the ball, but there was still a brief hushed silence all around as we scratched our heads as to whether that actually counted as a goal. Obviously it did, but those that knew that were keeping very quiet about it, until the umpires finally made the tragic decision in Preston’s favour. Shortly afterwards, the final whistle blew and the underdogs had managed to hold on to the end. A well-deserved victory, we concede.

The highlight of the day was the aforementioned paella teas, which went down an absolute treat. Preston, if you’re reading this, please don’t expect anything quite so fancy on your return (which we are eagerly awaiting!), although we may try and flog you a 2013 vintage bottle of wine in our raffle. A worthy exchange, we know.

MOM went to K-to-the-Robbo, probably just for turning up and the fact that this match predated the now infamous “hair-appointment-gate”. She may also have made some good tackles.

DOD went to Mel for innocently revealing her new penchant for a pre-game face mask, and for losing a bobble mid-game which led to a crucial ball going off the baseline while she desperately tried to scrape sweaty tendrils from out of her eyes. A good look.