The Amazonian Goddess drives the L3 promotion effort on
(she's really from Whitley Bay)
Another Saturday, another hockey match for the noble L3s, in their quest for glory. This week, a training game against evenly matched rivals from South of the River, also questing for glory.
Your heroine, the tall, inspiring, Amazonian goddess at the back, was sprightly, leading the warm up while the captain deserted her team to scold a naughty boy. Alongside the guru of fitness, no doubt perfecting her snatch, the team set off, prepared to fight from the start.
The weather was glorious, favouring those with tropical blood. The fair of hair, and pale of skin were suffering; once in double figures, the temperature can begin to take its toll. But bravely, they struggled on. Meanwhile, those of more exotic bent were debating whether the underlayer was a step too far.
The game started tentatively, jousting to and fro. Both teams, unused to such evenly matched foes, tested the strengths of their worthy opponents and did not find them wanting. The game was end to end. Your heroine, solid as ever, kept thing moving, commanding from the back and making everyone look average. Assisted by mobile bodies to either side who cleverly placed the ball up (and off) the sidelines, the defence remained solid. Meanwhile, youth and experience vied up front to pepper the space around (but not in) the goal.
Suddenly, a break from Blackheath, a brilliantly worked move leaving the Wapping defence exposed. Despite valiant efforts from the first of 2 guardians of the net, the ball lodged itself in the net.
Halftime brought healthy sweets, a well-earned rest, and words of inspiration from the coach. He manfully remembered his right from left, recalled it was a Saturday, and delivered a speech of such magnitude, the team bounced back on side.
The second half started more lively than the first. The children in the midfield, with guidance from the back, dominated the centre of the pitch. The tall, tanned warrior, only recently returned from years of travels in the Pacific, was particularly imposing, controlling the midfield throughout. The princess, the northerner and elderly one were firing, supplied by the endless running of the fitness guru. Guardian mark 2 was rarely tested, but when she was, was more than up to the test.
Midway through the battle, teamwork at its highest. A move started from the back, a switch of the most elegant kind. A pass to the right hand side, a forceful run along the baaaaseline, and a gentle tap in from the elderly one on her knees, without whom the team is lost.
Your team continued to press, putting into practice the inspirational words of the coach. But alas, it was not to be, and as the whistle was blown, a draw seemed a reasonable result.
A useful practice before next week's true battle.
Final score 1-1
MOM: Rude one (tireless and ever present) and Holiday Hinch (dominant in the midfield)
DOD: Sandra (unfairly blamed for someone else misplacing Kevin)