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Hachioji Park, Sunday 3rd May.
Whaam bam thank you maam sums up a calamitous almost frightfully hard fought plate semi affair between the div 1 underachievers Sala and their opposition div 2 landsliders FC Int. The sultry conditions served up a plate full of steamy action culminating in a 1 – 1 deadlock at the end of normal time, only for Sala to clinch the deal on penalties 4 – 2.
Foreplay
At 7:12pm 22 well groomed, tanned and neatly manicured men lined up for a contest that had ugly written all over it on Saturday 2nd May. An overly well stocked group of professional models took a pose on one side, fresh from a hard days shooting – the other saw a mixed group of semi –amateur, escort servicing, ex-y front modeling chaps take their place, take a breath and prepare for what lay ahead. The chance of silverware to compensate for an indifferent season, or another defeat at the hands of what should have been?
Action
Even the Hoff himself, driving “Kit” busting out of that famous leather jacket whilst sporting a pair of briefs couldn’t have kept up with the first 5 minutes of this match. We are a “lateral” team rang amongst the pre-match talk, this is Europe versus South America – they’ll play full sized futsal, twist, turn and delicately slide the ball around. Sala must counter by direct play, close down, be physical and cancel out the twisting, the sliding and darn right skillfulness! The Sala “pick a pass and play it” routine worked well, FC Int chased and attempted to break but it was the army of semi-pro pretty boys who created more and had the gifted Torres on his toes throughout the infant stages of the match.
Oh-no, its Ono
The initial stages paved the cat walk for the appearance of the little div 2 and should I say div 1 terrorizer Mr.Ono. Like the flurry of flashing cameras at a V Westwood fashion show the young striker soon captured his audience by skipping and dancing his way into space, the Sala back line perseverance soon faltered as the sweetly timed lofted passes supporting his role as leading man found their destination. Quick feet and a smell for goal are a defender’s nightmare, not even the great Bobby Moore could contain all that the Brazilians fired at him in ’70 and on this night the quick feet in black smelt Brian Harlow between the Sala sticks, and he smelt like train beer to a well oiled Scott Thompson.
Pocari-sweet
Aquarius, Vitamin-drink, Pocari and other vending machine delights fuelled the fatigued Sala troops during the intermission; the application of muscle rub was also witnessed. Eye-liner, a spot of foundation and an organic vegetable drink were the staple treatment among the FC boys, only joking guys, whatever was said must have worked because the 2nd half opening saw a number of chances narrowly miss the Sala wood work, skim the wood work and forcefully smash the wood work. The inspirational R Woszidlo at left back crafted some smart interchange between the slick, dead-ball expert Jorge K who occupied a position unknown to this reporter for most of the match, even now it perplexes me as to the role the TML veteran took. Inside-mid-left-winger just behind the front two? He not only caused moments of panic among the Sala defense with his pre-meditated flicks and chips into the danger zones, but left 2 or 3 Sala players permanently confused as to which of them should be his marker? “You should be on him! No you should he’s near you”!, “wait a minute now he’s on the wing, Sam he’s yours”…”b###cks I’m closing their full back down”
Climax and that’s a wrap
The charged Lennerington galloping down the Hachioji left flank like a black beauty beat his man as the second half ticked away to its conclusion, waiting inside the penalty box was a hungry R Harlow, eager to settle the match on his terms. Lenny produced a fine cross beating the flailing Torres met by Harlow 10 yards out, he pounced and finished delightfully putting Sala ahead with minutes remaining. The celebrations were short lived as yes, the demon FC number 10, decided to re-claim the stage and pull the game back into the FC Int realm by single handedly beating half of the Sala team – twisting and turning (I could feel the cold grimace on our captains face) and slotting a delightful conversion past the faultless B Harlow. 1 – 1 and penalties for a result.
Perspective Nagano captain, club accountant and all round legend lennerington, sensing penalties were in store made a point of returning to the pitch minutes before the final whistle. 20 minutes previously he was escorted off the field, complaining of sniper fire to the right hamstring. Questioning his bold decision to limp back on for penalties a prompt precise answer of “I love em” cemented his spot as no.1 in the kick line up, 3 other hands shot up after asking for volunteers, anymore than that needed not to apply…needed not have applied….Didn’t need to apply….! ?
4 clinical Sala finishes were enough to seal the victory after 2 FC Int misses. A fair end to a tale of intercontinental footy warfare? I don’t think so, but there had to be a winner and it is Sala who will now face the Vagabonds in the Plate Final. FC International can look back on a highly successful season and look forward to meeting their slightly less handsome opposition next year.
By Ian Jelley
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