Old dudes playing soccer

The manicured green carpet of Seddon #4 was in pristine condition for the over35s heavyweight clash between Go Feet and Lynn Avon. A fixture steeped in history, drama, controversy and betrayal. Allegations of unregistered players, first team ring-ins, match fixing and performance enhancing substances. News helicopters hovered overhead, furtive looking men in long coats and dark glasses talked hurriedly into their cell phones. The howler monkeys at the zoo next door could sense the tension building. The scene was set for an epic encounter. If old dudes football is a little fantasy world, a fictitious analogy where dreams can be realised - or shattered, then Go Feet's relationship with Lynn Avon would play like a B grade action movie of old friends turned into mortal enemies. Go Feet are the clean-cut heroes. Made of strong moral fibre, honest, virtuous and handsome. Lynn Avon are the forces of darkness. Cunning, mischievous and swarthy. On Saturday, the friction and animosity between these two old creaky warhorses would be played out on the honest open field instead of the courtroom or battlefield. The good guys always win in these movies, don't they?

Go Feet dominated the early exchanges, pushing the men of Avon back with patient possession mixed with rapier-like attacking thrusts. The men of Avon had built their formidable reputation on a stout defence, bulging waistlines and bad haircuts. Usually boring their opposition into mistakes, then feeding upon those mistakes like a pack of ravenous vultures. They get a goal against the run of play and park their big red bus. But they can't keep Go Feet at bay for long, they buckle under the pressure and eventually, Richie strikes to even the scores, smashing one home from close range. Into the second half and Go Feet deservedly go ahead with James poking home from Carlos' wayward shot. Surely now the floodgates would open, and Go Feet would run rampant. But the men of Avon are made of stern stuff, and they unbelievably get a goal back with their rudimentary long ball tactics. With the score drawn at 2-2, both teams went for it, caution was thrown to the wind. Go Feet hit the woodwork 3 times but couldn't find the back of the net. Chances were created at both ends. Shep making a last-ditch challenge with his telescopic legs and big stopper Niall hurling his impressively large frame about the muddy goalmouth, leaping like a salmon, making some big saves to keep the score deadlocked. The fans were loving it, the men of Avon had an entourage, their wives and girlfriends clutched their Heineken bottles and yelled out helpful advice to both teams. Impressionable children cowered in fear but couldn't tear their beady little eyes away. The gaggle of ducks that inadvertently wandered onto the pitch must have wondered what kind of warzone they had stumbled upon. The tension was rising, Go Feet had done enough to win the game comfortably yet inexplicably the score stubbornly remained locked at 2-2. The warriors of Go Feet pushed forward, desperate to score and secure the three points they deserved. But the men of Avon sniffed an unlikely point they surely did not deserve. They did what they do best, whole-hearted, no compromise defence. Finally, at the death, an expertly taken long range goal from Richie flew into the top corner and secured a 3-2 win for the good guys. A satisfying victory but the sense of relief was palpable. The howler monkeys were hushed, the ducks returned to the swamp. Go Feet take the points and head to the bar to toast their success with buckets of cold pilsner. Victory tastes sweet but there are many tough battles ahead.