2009-10 Season

Victory in the shadow of Mount Peevie

More photos here»

Well, what a game that was. Not only a superlative victory over Old Salesians but we were entertained by an early display of fireworks too as Peevie B erupted (again) in the closing minutes, ripped his shirt off and harumphed off the pitch breathing fire and brimstone. If it happened in America, they’d have declared him a National Park by now. What a geyser!

You’ve seen Dante’s Peak, you’ll know what I’m talking about – under immense pressure, a seething river of molten angst blasts its way to the surface showering the neighbourhood with sulphurous clouds of four letter words. Yes, that was Mount Peevie blowing his top. He is our very own caldera, for those of you with a hint of volcanology in your brain, our Vesuvius, our Etna, our Pinatubo all compressed into one very intense little pillock, sorry hillock.

When the heat had died down, the social worker in me thought we should club together and get Peevie some anger management therapy. Others were prepared to go halfway and just club him. In any event, it was his most dramatic departure from the field of combat since, well, the last time.

I, of course, know nothing about football. But EP, with his incisive understanding of the modern game, spotted the immediate dilemma. “Should Stevie B be made to wash the shirts if he throws his on the ground?” I leave this to the ‘Chels to decide but feel I’d have to insist if he’d pulled himself off (sorry, Euan).

And so to the game. By some miracle we all showed up at the ground by 10.30, despite the clocks going back, only to find it was an 11am kickoff! In our squad were the fabled Chris Twomey – nice blue boots, Chris, but yellow is the colour this season, mate – and Luis Da Great Spaniard, he of the now legendary Asturias Tour of 2009 (first half photos courtesy of the lad)

A quick team photo before the game and we were off, basking in the glorious sunshine of a beautiful autumn day, the trees wonderful shades of gold, verdigris and red, lots of red – a strange sulphurous scent in the air. Pierce Brosnan would have called the game off there and then but we were made of sterner stuff.

Now Salesians are usually pretty stiff opposition but this time out they seemed to be missing a few players. They started brightly enough though and it wasn’t until about 25 minutes in that Euan nicked our first. It was the start of a goal rush that saw us 5-0 up by half-time and bossing just about everywhere. Craig popped out for a bacon sarnie at one point, he had so much to do.

The breakthrough came when EP won the ball at their right corner flag, fed Alex, who teed up Mo and Euan (standing together) on the edge of the box. Mo gave us a laugh by imagining he could score left-footed, having pushed Euan out of the way, but the ball rebounded at Euan’s feet and he showed Mo how to slot it home. One-nil.

The second came through from the right again. The ball ended up at Euan’s feet again, whereupon he stuck it past the keeper into the far corner.

The third was a Euan corner from the left – might have been a cross – which their own defender headed past the keeper for a beautifully executed OG. Number four was from another corner on the left – Alex or Euan responsible – with Jake jumping at the far post to head the ball over the keeper into the side-netting.

Our fifth saw EP release Alex down the right again and, after dribbling into the box along the goalline, he put into into the path of Euan’s run into the six-yard box for him to slide it into the goal. Yes, a hat-trick and five-nil at half-time, a feeling the ‘Chels have not enjoyed for some time.

At half time, EP had a lot of swapping in and out to do. Me, Missus Murphy, Tommy T and Luis came on for Tom B, Mo, Euan and Jake. With all those changes, we were bound to wobble and we did come under the cosh a tad more to begin with, especially playing uphill against the wind (hence the need for a decent first half lead). We soon had another two goals in the bag.

The sixth came from a ‘Chels break after a bit of Salesian pressure. Alex fired across the box. John collected on the left of the goal and cut it back to the edge of the penalty area, from where EP’s shot was heading for the far inside netting only for their clumping centre-half to help it in with a deflected header. Own goal!!

Our seventh began with another break down the right by Alex, hitting the ball hard and low across the box, for Tommy T to tap in from two yards!

And so to the eruption of Mount Peevie. Bear in mind we are now seven-nil up – so it’s hardly a battle for hearts and minds.

The Salesians won a free-kick, gratuitously conceded by a petulant Stevie B tackle for which the ref told him, “Any more from you and you’re off”. The Salesians took a punt goalbound which Craig saved but spilled, and their little red-haired forward put it in the back of the net. So Peevie’s treasured clean sheet was undone …basically by Peevie!

It was not until Wayne, tracking back rather well I thought against the Salesian’s right-winger, put the ball out for a corner rather than a free kick that the long-awaited eruption took place.

The ungrateful Peevie went into a right old lava at conceding the corner – a lava aimed at everyone really but especially at Wayne. EP decided to take Peevie off – but before he could do so, the lad had pulled himself off (sorry, Euan) along with his shirt and was clumping in a crimson rage back to his kitbag. He hissed, he hollered, he didn’t know what to do with himself. But at least he bought me a beer afterwards!

As Peevie simmered by the touchline, there was just  time for a coup de grace, when Jake (back on for Alex for the last quarter) claimed his second.

So there you have it. A victory to be proud of. But once again, as Luis confided in me later, the characteristically hot and fiery nature of the English race (I use that word in the knowledge that Question Time may yet allow the ‘Chels on) let the side down at the last moment. Ouch!

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