Posted Feb 7th 2007, 2:14pm

6-aside, Docklands league

Latest match report - what a shocking night's work.

MATCH REPORT - WEEK 5
Future Fury week 5

Future Fury 1-2 Golden Oldies
Future Fury 2-4 Spencey’s Puppies

“The Day Of Reckoning” (also known as “The Day We Cocked Up”)

Defenders who attack, midfielders who attack, attackers who attack. Friggin’ goalkeepers who attack.

Everyone’s a striker these days, everyone wants a piece of that goalscoring pie.

But defending? Defending is for wimps. Defending is for those kids at school who sat in the library at lunch reading up on the Crimean War, instead of fagging away on John Player Special’s behind the bikesheds.

And so it came to pass … the promotion party was to be a spree of goals, a netbusting fest of pearlers and screamers of the very highest order.

And it was.

For our opponents.

Since securing promotion last week, the club had endured seven days of celeb parties, binge-drinking and award ceremonies, and it had obviously taken its toll on Future Fury, as they effortlessly put on the two gash-est performances of the season in a double humiliation against Golden Oldies and Spencey’s Puppies.

In our defence (not that we had one – fnar) the Oldies had discovered some sort of anti-ageing cream, the like of which is only seen on those shoddy Sky channels, 300 and above. Foxed by this new youthful set-up, Fury found themselves two down in the opening exchanges.

Stunned, the Champions-elect fought back in the second half, forcing shots on goal from Neil, Evs and Dalts. With lairy Jim Cohen banished to the sidelines for a foul tirade of expletives that would have made Mike Reid blush, there seemed little way back into the match.

That was, until the youngest and most inept referee ever to take to a football pitch awarded Future a quite baffling penalty.

With all the sportsmanship of a Kanu / Overmars one-two, goal-hungry Dave D stepped up to pea-roll an ‘interesting’ penalty down the middle of the goal, and peeled away shirt-atop baldy crown.

GAME ON!

Or not, as it turned out, for after Big D almost snapped the crossbar with a curling free-kick, the Indian Paul Alcock soon blew up, leaving Future needing a win from their final match against the Pupps to take the Championship.

The match started predictably, two down within a matter of minutes thanks to a couple of fine counter-attacks which left ringer Beeney declaring, “Ah shucks, I’ve been stitched again.” And some.

It was all too much for Future Publishing’s record 11-aside goalscorer Evans, and thinking back to the finer days of Vinnie Jones and Steve McMahon, he took out an onrushing Puppies striker with a fair disgraceful chop to the shins.

Dismissed to the sin bin in shame (although, and I quote “I know I shouldn’t have done it but it felt bloody good”), Fury battled back to reduce the arrears when Smudger’s precise cross-field pass was smashed in by Dalton.

Deceptively looking more solid in the 2nd-half, the equaliser arrived when in desperately attempting get out of ginger Jim’s way, the lardy Evans – running backwards - fairly bulldozed a path through the visitors’ defence, and Cohen made his only meaningful contribution of the night by thundering in the leveller.

GAME ON AGAIN!

Or not, as it turned out … again. In going for the win, the all-blacks were caught at the back (for a change), and despite the Seaman-esque efforts of Rich in goal (smirk) the Puppies banged in two more near the end to put the gloss on a thoroughly rubbish 4-2 defeat.

Despondent, disgusted and disenchanted, Future trudged off knowing that they’d let themselves down, but most of all, Jim had let everyone down. Instant talk of free transfers spread around the camp, while statisticians furiously scoured the record books in search of a single more inept display by a player in the entire history of the Elms tournament.

Stat Attack (18 cert.)

Jim Cohen

On the Pitch 25 mins
Sent-Off 2 mins
Substitute 9 mins

Pass completion 1
Goals 1
Errors (Lost count)
Errors leading to opposition goals 3
Expletives (Lost count)
Anger rating 10/10

See you in the Premiership happy campers … heaven help us all!

James Evans.