Firstly please accept my humble apologies for this late report. The plain fact is Lady H-D and I have had to call the builders in. The years have not been kind to the Old Manor House. The West Wall is in severe risk of collapsing and the Grand Hall has definitely seen better days. Never mind, a few gold trinkets and an endless supply of PG seem to be doing the trick.
But …. to the game…. or at least what my befuddled drug and alcohol fuelled brain remembers of it.
As I stare across my library, ignoring the prostate bodies of debutantes and bright young things, the broken glasses, the slumbering dancing girls under the Regency dining table, I can see athletes. Glorious athletes ignoring the wretched pangs of time and playing the beautiful game once again under a brooding Sandwich sky.
6 goals to nil. On paper a comprehensive win. But this game was far from that. Kings Hill played their part fully in a close and compelling contest.
The home side started well and were a goal up after 2 minutes. But between that goal and the one scored just before the first half whistle, it was the away team that were in the ascendance.
Against lesser opposition they would surely have scored at least once but BayCity Strollers are league leaders for a reason. Coach McKellar comes from a long line in pragmatic Scottish managers like Moyles, Smith and some guy who managed some team from somewhere up in the North West (an anagram of that team’s name is “Cremated nun shite”).
Yes, McKellar has moulded his team into a side who can dig in when the going gets tough. They did what all good teams do: defenders defended, tacklers tackled and the keeper kept.
The second half belonged though to the home side. Coach McKellar fired in two exocet missiles into the bottom corner, goal machine Millbank added to his impressive tally. And then there was the goal of the night (if not of the season) ….
The ball was played out of defence. A blur of white against a green background. Right back Dobson stormed down the wing and smashed in his cross. The crowd turned to each other and both said together “that’s too hard. No one can possibly do anything with that!” but they were so very wrong for there at the far post was Le Corney. In one fluid movement he caught the ball on the volley. How he kept it down no one but he will ever know. But he did and it flew … like a second exocet missile into the net.
So a good win. The crowd drifted to the bar to the tune of a stout lady warbling. Next up is Canterbury. Can the muscular Thanetites match the silky skills of the academics from the Cathedral City? We will see…………..