Vs Los Elefantes
Loss 3-4
Players: CG MOM, RH MOM, DC 2, TW 1, AW (og), CG (gk)
Spectators: Fifi, Ando MOM

The first half has something to behold – flare, panache and daring. There were gasps from the packed seating, horns were heard to blare from passing traffic. Moments of picturesque silence burst into flaming fields of ecstatic glee. We were hot, and we knew we were hot, like walking on sunshine, or swimming in jenkum. Goals didn’t flow but they arose at a constant rate, defense was strong, like an iron door on house of cards. There was a back heel – there was a long rage torpedo – there was desperation but most of all there was unbridled beauty.

Then there was the second half.

3 – 4 loss to Pop City DC(arse) CG RH(2) TK TW AW EC(1)

It is a well known and long established fact that the round-robin system for team competitions is a vision of the capitalist patriarchy. The round-robin keeps the working man shackled to the wage slave system whilst benefiting the wealthy minority. It takes a visionary and brave soul to question these intrenched systems, it takes a truly exceptional leader to challenge them head on. APISC has found such a leader, a man who is willing to smash the round-robin in the face with his mighty fisty and stand up for what is right in the world.

This is Joel’s vision, a glorious competition where each team plays the same opposition each week, free from the burden of change, released from the equality of points and fairness. So the Nannas took on Pop City again, after taking on Pop City again last week, after a season where we once played Harchester thrice in a row.

This is a team we can beat and following a draw last week (and a draw is a win) we really should have taken all the points this week. With about 5 mins on the clock we had a two goal lead – and realistically we should have defended it.

There were plenty of headers – possibly the most in a match ever – some delightful delivery from Gilla to go hand in hand with some multi-ball saving in the goal mouth scramble. Elliot returned to the Nannas with some silky runs and scored a screamer but was let down a little by his match fitness and a late injury. Takeshi and Andy were strong in defence, Tao provided his usual hustle and Dan made sure that there were no substitution errors but in the end we tripped at the final hurdle. The captain managed to finish off some fine work including a great pass from Tao but could not capitalise on a late run-away opportunity.

Post game we ventured to the new Nannas club house – bar Oussou for Jazz and drinks. We sampled the delights from the kitchen, the food itself was greeted wth applause but the wait time on Taos’ burger – north of an hour – really let it down.

6-2 Loss to San Marino 1 goal to the captain and an own goal Captain MOM

There’s a lot going on right now, the fertile lands spring with new growth and randy birds take to the air. It’s a time of change and rebirth, I am a year older and things are out of whack. For example…

1: Our most consistent ringer is a goalie – this is surely a first.
2: Tao was yelled at more than he yelled. (apologies)
3: The argument over dinner transport took place before the match.
4: There was a referee substitution.
5: Donny Jizzface is front runner for the Nobel Peace Prize.

Despite these obstacles the Nannas put in a very solid performance against a side of young fit men with foot-skills. The first half was old school Nanna tenacity, pressing hard and not letting the opposition settle, some genius from Joel in Goal. He saved many long range screamers and then delivered a peach, by foot, to the head of the waiting captain to deflect horizontally to the corner for the Nannas only score of the match. Later that half the captain found himself, with two other Nannas and about 40 minutes of thinking time in front of the opposition goalie only to over think the entire situation and cock it up entirely.
Thankfully for us the opposition knew where the back of their own net was and demonstrated with a royal goalie brain fade.

The half time rant was about commitment to the defence and not watching the horrors unfold from the safety of the opposition half. It’s an old rant that gets wheeled out on a regular basis, but not often followed up with a targeted attack, I apologise again, it’s the pollen. Unfortunately the Nannas could not continue the performance into the second half. The opposition really upped their game and did score a couple of very nice goals. Joal must have saved at least 10 with strong hands. Chassey put in some strong bustling forays but mysteriously opted to ignore a wide-open Cocky at corner time. Andy was strong, particularly with some trade mark cross-court darts. Tao defended his positional motivation and also booked a delightful Mexican cantina for a series of meaty tacos and beers named after Brown-Smiths.

Maybe its all about Stamina – “It was tied at half time” has become something of a constant.

4-12 v Calcorp, Brunswick Secondary Court 2
CBac, DC2m, EC, CG2gk, JH, AW, Tomas

I didn’t even clock the date. 911, Crazy. 24 years ago, on a tiny cathode ray TV in the corner of a St Kilda bar, I watched live as the second plane flew into the twin towers. The entire bar was transfixed as we watched smoke billowing from the icons of US economic and cultural imperialism. Then I went outside and found a payphone to call Miri and tell her that World War III had probably begun…

Fast forward 24 years – Osama bin Laden is long dead, the US is on the brink of civil war, the UN Special Committee concludes that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza and experts predict that AGI is less than 5 years away… and yet, and yet, the Nannas are still playing, who would have thought… 

But back to the game. It wasn’t pretty. Calcorp really embraced their eponymous etymology and duly took the Nannas to the cleaners. It was a harsh come down from the glories of last week’s triumph and some Nannas took it harder than others. Gilby the Funk Bilby® scored in the opening seconds but was then forced to pick the ball from his own net no fewer than 12 times. Harsh words were exchanged with the outfield, and though born of frustration it was not cool. We managed to score another 3 goals and could have had probably another 3 or 4 if anyone had actually been to a Swiss finishing school. Fuckit. After the game there was a private session with Arse Coach and Team Psychologist, Chastity Beaver. Apologies were issued, recriminations shelved and harmony restored, cue angelic choir…

Special note: first game for new Chilean-Australian ring-in Tomas, invited to play by Jim™, whom he had never actually met, edgy, that’s Jim™.

5-6 Loss Vs Dynamo Tehran

1 CB, 1 DC, CG (G), 1 RH (MOM), 2 TW (MOM), AW

CB1, DC5M, CG1, JH1, AW, Prashana
v Midweek Crisis

In The silence of The Lambs (1991), Dr. Hannibal Lecter played by Anthony Hopkins, asks Jodie Foster’s Clarice Starling what it is that a person first covets? They covet the thing they see every day. Now have look at your hand. How many fingers does it have? Putting aside the ableist assumption that you don’t have some kind of congenital birth defect and/or haven’t suffered a disfiguring and probably uncompensated workplace injury, then you should see five fingers. Well, five digits (is a thumb technically a finger?), anyway, there are 5, always staring back at you, creating a covetous loop, Mrs palmer and her five lovely daughters, thou shalt not covet another man’s hand and all that, just a couple of bros hanging out… the 5 senses, the 5 stages of grief, the 5 Platonic solids, the 5 kingdoms of Life, the 5 goals that rippled the back of the net. A brace is all good and well, a hat trick is very respectable, and a four goal haul is ethically and morally beyond reproach but 5, well, that is positively covetous… but enough of that already, well, perhaps a little more a little later…

As we were warming up pre-game, a young man with a very not-grey beard siddled up to Andy and rather coyly asked ‘are you guys the Nannas?’, dude, where have you been for the last 25 years! So from this we can infer that it was their first game at APISC (Local Sports, whatever), they’ll learn. They’ll also learn that running a well oiled bureaucratic machine is not a central tenet of APISC management given we kicked off 10mins late. I suspect they will also improve rather quickly in the coming games but for now they were about to be taught a harsh lesson by the Nannas. The final score was 8-4 but seriously it could have easily been 12, or more, the Nannas were totally bossing the show. 

The Midweek Crisisers did score a couple of early goals, and Giller, who was in a fiesty (slash borderline shouty) mood, was letting the Nannas know how he felt about that, amidst the usual outrageous saves and kicking of the the ball at the far wall, quite often up near the roofline. Their goalie/s also made a few really good saves but the Nannas seemed to have a lot of space and time on the ball and were passing it around fluidly. We also had a brand spanking new ring-in in the shape of Prashana, Giller’s next door neighbour and purveyor of fine bagels. He turned up even later than Joel but in much shorter shorts, or maybe just much longer legs, in any case he’d some skills about his person, a fire in his belly and great hair, so his number has definitely been added to the ring-in list. Of the remaining Nannas, Chassy was tackling and hustling and putting in a never ending succession of through balls. He did at one point pay very close attention to one of the opposition but later claimed he was, in point of fact, being reached around himself, so who knows. Wal put in a number of crucial tackles and was running the lines like a machine, there were that many one-twos at the top end of court! Wal also had a shot saved near the end of the game which was a freaking rocket, the goalie knew nothing about it but somehow flail/deflected the ball off course. Jim was largely anonymous… just kidding eh… I think we’re simply getting too used to his regular country hat tricks, but he was first to the ball every time and never lost the hunger*, including a Hinkleyesque back heel attempt on goal early in the second half. It should also be noted, in addition to the preponderance of terrible ‘passes’ finding themselves half way up the back wall. Giller also laid on some very sweet through balls “on the laces”, including an almost basketball-shot-like lobbed throw over an opposition attacker into the path of a galloping Nanna, tasteful. And that’s not to mention the goal from well behind half way, top corner, rocket, standard… Jim and Chapsby also scored but I can’t rightly recall the details, sorry chaps. The other 5 goals, though, I can remember with preternatural clarity…

TL;DR 

1. On the left foot, believe it or not, from a Jim (I think) through ball, down the left, I let it run past and then had hopeful swing with the unco foot, a shot with a cross backup plan, it flashed across the face of goal and in off the far post, sweet as.

2. The glancing header. I’ve promised myself to never do headers again, I already have enough of an ABI from the 90s, but there it was, coming in low and hard, thankfully it really was just the glance and my cognitive decline received only the slightest nudge.

3. Another through ball, this time down the right from chapsman, in that outside channel, like it’s coming ‘over the shoulder’, it’d be fascinating to get the FMRI machine on the pitch to see what exactly happens at that moment where your brain does the 180˚ flip, in any case this was a much more deliberate shot on the less unco right foot

4. An interception just over halfway and a goalie wildly out of position, they kept leaving the goals wide open, playing with keeper as a 5th man, and it sort of worked, but they were surfing close to the edge and in addition to No.4 also had a least one very near Stupa boot moment,

5. The last goal was a long ball from Giller taken down with my back to goal, but it was super late in the game, they’d stop running and I had time to turn and toe poke into the back of the net as the buzzer sounded, very ASMR, very satisfying… so mindful, so demure…

Après:

Then to the Union (chassy’s cook, unplanned, unscored), the fish burger special was sold out and Jim got too high and dropped his hamburger. There were some policy decisions made regarding the rules around vote blocking for failing to write a match report, see rule 3 clauses b-d. Giller then revealed that his progeny had recently been digging into the Nannas public archive at which point both the Christopher’s realised their reputations have been hanging in the balance for years, literally tettering on the precipice of cancellation, with the highly inappropriate yet publicly accessible Nannas blog just lying around on the internet for anyone to see like the beasteality website someone forgot to close on their office computer before the powerpoint presenatation to the leadership team. So, for the record, and before the blog is shuttered, no Nanna has taken drugs of any kind or said or done anything wrong, ever.

* Although said hunger did get a bit yelly at one point near the end and put poor chapsbenis off his shot

** Speaking of Jim, and putting people off their game, sorry for almost kicking the ball at your face Jim. It wasn’t mean to be anywhere near that close, well, it was meant to be quite close, in a friendly but sort of mean ‘taste of your own medicine’ kind of way, but it was way too close, and a little bit scary, sorry!

Timestamp: 

Arsenal beat Man U in the first game of the new season and then gazump Spurs to sign Eze. Albo continues to disappoint on almost every front. Trump issues fresh deadlines for Putin having failed to follow up on a single earlier one, TACO forever. Netanyahu is beyond fvcked.

CB1, DC3M, CG, JH, RH2, TK(ass, documentation), TW1, AW
v San Marino

Going into this game I had a lot of belief, I had a good feeling, we had this …

And then…

1 nil down, after literally 20 seconds! Followed very quickly by another 2 in the back of our net. And for their third goal they really carved us wide open, shit was not looking good, at all! In these sort of situations, when the graph is going in a highly non-optimal direction, a team needs a new variable in the equation, that variable is leadership, and that leadership is what Captain Rhian Hinkley brought to the casio futsal graphing calculator. He freaking grabbed the calculator out of fortune’s grubby mits and punched “55378008” into that shit! Giller had already found him with long balls on a number of occasions, but this time it was side kick, dead ball, almost a corner, but from our end of the court, it was coming in low and hard another was the Captains signature glancing header, the one which leaves the opposition goalie sort of slack jawed and gawping, hell yeah! This was folllowed almost immediately by another, Chasmund taking a very* quick corner, Rhian timed his run perfectly perfectly and slotting past the keeper, game freaking on. Rhian could have had probably the Nannas quickest ever hat-trick, picking up a loose ball near the halfway line and barrelling towards goal, one on one with the keeper he put it fractionally wide.

To a man the Nannas were hustling, running, tracking back. We were in this. And we were on it! Out third came from another corner, Jim spotting the authors rather unco run toward the near post, he put it on a plate, the author scuffed at the plate with his foot cutlery but somehow managed to direct in the general direction of the goal. Both he and Jim watching for what seemed an eternity as it slowly rolled it into the corner.

So it was either 3-3 or 3-4 at half time. I can’t remember. It was tight. As it should always be kept!

You’d think that after 25 years the Nannas would have subbing totally nailed right? Wrong! Literally all you need to do is remember 1 thing, the identity of the person you take off, that’s it, that’s all there is to it, but no, I came off and it was chaos, Chassy was trying to concoct a sub sheet from various dubious testimonies, with the clock ticking, in a freaking final! I remember the famous Wesley grand final win of 2008** (which I think Kondo also documented!) we had the subs worked out to within an inch of bee’s díck, with actual positions and shit, not this final baby, it was a real-time mid-game complete overhaul rework clusterfuck! But maybe that was the refocus we needed, maybe it was the hand of destiny making the necessary tweaks… in any case Chasbenis ran back onto the court with an extra shot of cortisol, he immediately chased down a lose ball, fully swatted aside the guy who tried to tackle him, like literally onto the floor, and then slammed the ball into the bottom left corner. 4-4 bitches!

We were totally in this and the opposition could sense it too. They got another and for a while held us to 4-5. We were hard in the tackle and in the hustle but they seemed happy to keep protect their lead, passing it around the back, and it was working, until it didn’t. Tao kept harrying one guy almost into the corner of his own goal before picking his pocket on the byline, turning and slotting in at the near post, freaking hell freaking yeah! This seemed to totally flummox their defence and our next two goals were from defensive errors gifting position in very favourable shooting positions, the author duly obliged with a couple of poacher’s toe pokes. 7-5, we just needed to hang on for another 4 minutes. I was on the sideline at this point and it was nerve racking, but actually not that nerve wracking, we slowed it down, Andy was everywhere, blocking everything, Tao put in a goal saving tackle, Giller made yet more stops, we slowed it down more, we put it to bed, we freaking killed it!

2nd Division comeback Captains calculator champions… after 25 years, still got it.

* quite possibly illegal 
** when the freak was that, 2008, 2011? It was in the brief but precious “Fraser Window” when Guy was momentarily back in Melbourne
*** from the late 1900s, the digits 55378008 on a 7 segment LCD calculator† viewed upside down spells “boobless”, classic!
† Technically not a graphing calculator

post script: a special note for Takeshi Kondo who was in attendance in a dual role as Ass Coach and as Chief Documentation Officer, kudos Takeshi! nb. we really need to see that video from 2008, 2011, whenever, it was such a good game!
Also for the record, the author was awarded Player of the Final, pipping Giller at the post.
ABKIT!

ATT: CB, DC, CG, JH(MOM), RH, AW, TW

Nannas 7 plays Pop City FC 5

Things to consider when reading this match report:

• Gill got no votes on account of the non-posting of a match report from the week prior.
• We scored six goals but were awarded seven. The opposition were only four but had a ringer, so the ref deemed this a violation and gave us an extra.
• Chas probably should have won MOM. He was that good.
• Cocky did leave the arena for two to three minutes mid match.
• Cocky also did return. And returned to the field of play too.

When members of the public will look back on this game they will notice three things. First, Chas was on fire. Second, the Nannas had no right to win this game. Third, the opposition were a team is search of their best player, who they substituted with another player who was probably better.

Chas on fire

Chas, knees last week preventing him from playing, this week was on fire. His last goal, the clincher. Such majesty. I saw him get the ball from the left, turn inboard in front of their goal and shoot, attended by at least two outfield opposition. The attempt was just too hot for their keeper, who seemed surprised at its ferocity. But in fairness, this is how Chas had been for most of the game. Leading with his shoulder, getting down and dirty when was ball was to be won, and also finding some very nice passes. One in particular that will stick long in the memory banks was the fierce cross to Jim from a side put in. Chas smashed it. Jim saw it, thinking, I can’t get my head to it or my feet. The velocity of it seemed prohibitive for any of those eventualities. In the end, Jim thought fvck it, I’ll meet with my chest. The impact was solid, but if Jim knows how to do anything it’s how to puff out his nipples, which he did manfully. Thankfully Jim was standing at the back post of their goal, and the ricochet bulged the back of their net.

Chas really should have gotten MOM.

The Nannas and a game won

For the first time in the Nanna’s history one of their players packed up his gear, mid game, said ‘fvck you all, I’m going home’.  It was Cocky. He was bugging out and going home.

Read that again.

I think it’s safe to say that in our storied twenty five year history, no Nanna, not during a game, not during a final, not even when having a kick around in park, has just upped and walked. And for Cocky to do this. Cocky, an original, one of the spiritual leaders of the Nannas, he’s the left ventricle (arguably the most crucial part of the human heart [the left ventricle has the thickest walls, enabling it to generate the force needed to pump blood throughout the body]) of a brown heart that beats as one. For him to say fvck this, and fvck you guys. Wow!

Now, there are probably some of you out there who might think I am making more of this than is necessary. Or that what Cocky did can be explained away by outside circumstances (and maybe that’s true, I don’t know).

But for those yellers among you, and at times most of us have been guilty of this (I know I have), I think you need to consider why we/you play. Is it to win silverware? You are a buffoon. To beat a team who don’t like or for some misguided one-upmanship? K!ll yourself. To feel like you still got it? Eeeeeeeeeeejit. Because you love the game? Perhaps I’ll grant you that one. To stay fit? Yes, there’s an element of that. For friendship and the camaraderie? This is why I play, and why I’ll drive an hour and forty each way in the middle of winter, usually getting home close to midnight and with a crappy sleep afterwards to boot.

So at the end of that, to be yelled at (and to be yelled at with venom, and let’s be frank, last night, and for weeks previous there have been examples of this) seems point blank ridiculous/ludicrous/dickwad-ish/fvckface-ish/arseholeric/nob jocky-ish/cvnt-ish, not to mention totally counterintuitive to why you’re playing. But it’s also expecting your brother Nanna to open wide while you loom over him and slide a massive dirty, slimy, blackish turd down his throat.

So, yes, it’s good we won (and thankfully we did). But should we have? After Cocky walked off, I had my doubts we’d deserve it. I also had my doubts over the Nannas continuing not just the game but as an entity afterward. Not even the Captain has the (supernatural) powers of leadership, which is what it would have taken, to overcome that.  

To his immense credit, Cocky returned, and at half time gave a hug to the one who was all yelling and we moved on. If I could have given him all my votes, I would have.

The opposition

The opposition are a lot like us. They’re solid. They’re usually tight on defence. They’re not overly quick or skilful. And very similar to the Nannas when we get someone with a bit of skill, some pace, with an eye for goal, they are transformed into a much better team. Last night our opposition had lost their main man, but had picked up the dude in a United Ronaldo shirt. As discussed with Cocky sideline, he did befit that outfit. He had moves, he had a shot to match it, and he did score four of their five goals (even Gilla who got his hands to a few of his shots couldn’t cope with their power).

With about five-ten minutes to go, I said to him, don’t score any more goals for them. Thankfully he duly obliged.

1-8 v unknown TW, CB, DC, Louie, AW, RH mom

On a warm summer evening in the early nineties I found myself in the Wanaka camp ground partying in a spacious three room tent with a selection of very beautiful people. I knew some of the attendees and during the evening people arrived and people left, couples retired to their own tents and after a number of hours of drinking and smoking I found myself alone with Julianne Aliston. The conversation paused for a while, Julianne took a deep breath and shrugged. This was my introduction to the mercy fuck. 

Although it has never quite reached the heights of that initial and memorable 90 seconds the mercy fuck (MF) has since taken on many varied forms.

Generally it requires luck, a sheepish grin and a lack of small-talk, the exception is Thursday nights where it can simply mean playing goalie for the Nannas when all other goalies are away.

The night started well, a quick jog with Chassey to blow away the cobwebs followed by watching a masterclass in demolition delivered by Calcorp to the vastly improved and physically willing Harchester. 

The team we played wore blue and seemed new to the competition, which in itself is a form of cheating. They were young, tall and had a penchant for passive aggressive gentle stroking which unnerved Chassey to the point of distraction. The Nannas fell into a defensive mindset early which does not lead to many goal scoring opportunities, the opposition opted for a different strategy with better results. Cocky and Chassey teamed up nicely on occasion but all without any real penetration, Lou was masterly in his initial touch and laid off some delightful balls but to no avail. Andy saved our pants with a goaline flurry of ricocheting madness and Tao attempted a mercy fuck himself by saving a goal on the line, but in the end there can be only one. 

One more game before we turn 25 the excitement at the union was palpable, the only real downside to the evening being the choice of steak sandwich over the chops, which followed a disastrous chicken burger instead of the corned beef the previous week. From now on I will order what Cocky orders.

2-5 v Pop City
TW, CB, DC2M, JH, Guido, RH

Guido went in goal first half, Rhian the second, the author scored a couple… we lost.
So, a 2nd order knoted flanusâ„¢

Vs Calcorp (friendly)
Loss 7-12
CB 3, JH 2, DC 2, TW, RH, AW, TK (gk)
MOM: CB, JH, TK

Friendly followed forfeit. Not always so friendly, but that’s the way it goes with the lads from Calcorp. I’ve done a little research on their name and Calcorp appears to be a graffiti cleaning business based in Coburg.. “Experts in Graffiti Removal, Pressure Cleaning, Anti-Graffiti Coatings, Asset Management, Commercial & Major, Infrastructure and Artwork Protection & Restoration”. From 21 reviews on Google they come out with a pretty respectable 4.3 average. Laura Valentine expressed her appreciation 7 years ago with the following..

Though Andrea and Cap T were less impressed.. 

Nannas 7 plays Orangers 11

Att: CB (MOM), DC, JH (MOM), RH, TK (MOM), AW, TW

And so there I was, sitting behind this dozy woman who proceeded to fill up her tank with petrol extremely slowly. The ETA on the map clicked over to three minutes past the start of the game.

And my feelings turned to anxious. Seeing a free bowser two lanes up, I went to reverse and backed up a few yards only for an angry horn to parp from behind. I had to wait.

And so there was I screaming down the freeway winding back the ETA. I had the vehicle on cruise, the speedometer said 118 KM/H, whereas the velocity provided by Google clocked me at 115.

And eventually I pulled into entrance of the school. Now five minutes early, most Nannas had arrived.

And there in front of us was the team in orange who I had played on my last visit to indoor. They beat us 11-3 on that occasion.

And once again I thought: the administration of this comp leaves a lot to be desired.

And there I was on the sideline as the game began. The orange ones were having fun, while the Brown men were flailing around in their wake. They had us two goals down in as many minutes.

And Andy was subbed in.

And then I yelled at Cocky to drag his sorry arse from the fray.

And was it really me who got our first goals? They were two by that stage.

And I can’t remember either if it I scored first from the corner, or the pull down from the Chas long ball, turn and bang home. After the latter (if indeed it did come after) the ref sung my praises.

And my goals provided the inspiration for a mini-Brown-valanche. We went to four. They remained on two.

And then I heard Cocky say, somewhat foolishly, we’ve got this. That’s when the oranges hit a few and pegged us back to remind us that we didn’t really have anything.  

And we went to half time, although I am unsure what the score was.

And on the other side of the break we re-commenced battle. They pulled up apart, passed around and through us, and scored many. For our part, we did offer them up the ball exactly where they would have wanted it (in midfield with our defence not set), but we also scored more too, just not as many as them.

And I remember a couple of Chassy goals. The one where he had an open net but whacked it at their keeper, who managed to hit it into his own goal, was memorable. So was Cocky gagging for me pass it to space in an open forward line. I did as much and he scored.

And they were better. But we were quite good. If we can control the ball a little better, and perhaps take a moment and size up a better pass instead of giving it away cheaply, we will improve and test many teams.

And I think that has been said for at least twenty years.

And afterward we went to the Union where a happy birthday was sung in my honour. I felt honoured.

And honourable mentions go to Chas. They call him the man in form. But also Kondo. His shot stopping was immense.

3- 11 v Calcorp

Well, we got whopped, but it was actually a really good match!

For a brief moment near the end of the first half the Nannas brought their freaking A game.

Jim! one of the best turns the Nannas have EVER seen. A long fast throw from Joel down the left to feet (Giller, take note), found Jim almost literally standing on the sideline. What is that kind of turn even called, was that a Cruyff turn? maybe, anyway, it was fully fucking sick! In one fluid motion, jim recived, cruyff’d and left his marker in the dust before rifling it into the net. hell yeah.

some other stuff happened. the author did a mazy kind of drunken master run and toepoke, which wasn’t pretty or ever really in control, more a kind of semi-managed falling forward, yet somehow still effective.

we must have hit the post like 20 times

and now I have to hit post or be barred from voting in 2 hours

ABKIT!

Nannas 3 plays Calcorp 11
ATT: CB, DC(MOM), JH (MOM), RH, AW, Joel.

Tao put the kiss of death on us before the match had begun. Curiously, he declined to say why he wouldn’t play. Was he terrified? That’s how I read his messages in the lead up to the game.
There were six heroic Nannnas, though, willing to weather the Calcorp storm. They dress in orange. They are younger than us, and certainly a lot more skilful.
We lined up, and within five or six minutes it appeared it would be a procession just as our frightened Tao suggested. They scored one, then another, a third and fourth for good measure. They have sublime foot skills, can change direction on a pinhead, seem to find each other without even looking, and a couple (most) of them can really hit a shot.
There we were, Tao frightened, hiding at the thought of these people and unable to face them. While on court, those Nannas courageous enough to face the Calcorp were staring down the barrel of a heavy defeat.
But a glimmer of hope appeared.
As I stood astride the right-hand touch line, marked by the big dude with the dreads, Joel threw a long ball to me. As is Joel’s want, he threw it hard at my feet. There was no thought on my part. I simply turned and suddenly my marker lagged behind, the ball spitting out in front, and their goaling rushing towards me. I sighted a glimmer on the keeper’s right (my left), and that’s where my toe poke was aimed, finding the back of the net.
Then there was the Cocky. Oh, the Cock walloper. After my moment of glory, he thought he would one up me. And he did, almost. Like on the slopes of Kashmir, he did slalom beating one, two, and a third, after which he just had to deal with the keeper, which he did.
Chas got a third, and for the briefest of moments we had control of the ball, and were starting to threaten, find balance in the force, and look capable of matching it with the Orange men of magnificent foot skills and deadly shots.
They did score one more before the break and we stopped there for a breather 5-3.
In that pause, I did try to instil in the Nannas some wisdom of holding the ball and not trying to play through swathes of opposing, very practiced feet. I also gave a brief tutorial on marking people who are faster and more adept than you.
Despite my pleadings the Nannas only know one way. And like in the first half, there were moments when we were over ambitious, could have played to friendly, open feet, instead of trying to play through hostile skilful ones, and made them work harder to gain possession.
And the price we paid for our profligacy? Six more of the best.
From the Browns, we hit the post at least four time in that second stanza, so we were unlucky. But the better team won.
One of their goals was particularly special. After a Nanna lost the ball, they pushed forward, delivering a long pass to one of their Orange in a forward position. Like he’d done most of the night, Joel came forward to try to snuff out the danger. But the Orange seemed to know this, and with his back half turned, managed to lob Joel having the ball drop just under the crossbar and into goal. A very special goal.

Vs Toe Poke
Lost 4-11
CG, TK, JH 1, AW, DC 1, RH, CB 1 (MOM)
Opposition (1)

The Magnificent Seven! It’s been a while. Country Jim was there in all the splendour of his shiny green Castlemaine shorts. Takeshi battled hard and chased down the opposition with unflinching tenacity. Andy Wong was rattling around the back door but couldn’t quite find the spare key tonight. Hinkley looked the part when going in for a flying header. Gilly was a little enraged early on when we were losing 1-5 and started piffing the ball like he was running a lolly scramble. Cocky pulled off a big run cross court that turned into an unlikely looking shot that found the net in what was probably the goal of the night. At one point Gilly got caught out of goals and the opposition lobbed a ball toward goal. I was last man back and I leapt up arms out to catch the ball as if I were suddenly transformed into the keeper. As the ball got closer, I realised I wasn’t the keeper and gently caressed the ball with all the je ne sais crois of a lurching frottage gone horribly wrong, before it sailed into the goal. Not sure if that move got me the Mom. Probs not. Look, we nearly drew the second half. Halftime score was 1-7. So the second half was a nail biting 3-4. Although a respectable second half result, the nannas may have found their respectability wanting when using the sportingness measure as a proxy (for respectability). In which case these ladies…

may have sung us their classic line “you ain’t ever gonna be respectable”. Sportingness may have taken a hit on Thursday night as the Nannas cranked into some classic old man crank. We can do better, we have done better and we will do better. 

DC(🏆), CG(🏆), JH, RH(ass), TW, AW(🟨)
0-6 v Harchester

ps. an update to the voter (v 15.4) sees the addition of a ‘reveal real names’ button for the momentary decypherment of overly cryptic names

6-1 v Dynamo Tehran
CB, SB(1), DC(4,mom), CG(gk), JM, AW(1)

154 days. The time it takes to gestate a goat, or a sheep, or a marmoset. Almost 6 months. That’s how long the author spent on the side lines. Arse Coaching, yes, but not a touch of the ball for nigh on half a year. It’s a long time and more than a few observers opined they might never again see the Nannas leading goal scorer return to the field of battle. But lo and behold, here he is, strapping on the UltraAnkle® and heading into the fray. again.

Holy hell though, it was actually quite scary taking my delicate little* ankle into the swirling maelstrom of a full contact sport. Yikes. There were a few moments when it felt like my right foot was in its own little personal k-hole, refusing to respond when requests to tackle opponents came from the frontal lobe. This made it something of defensive liability but thankfully it was a little more responsive up front.

And what a game! 6 in the net and but a single consolation goal for the opposition. The Nannasâ„¢ were totally on point, repeatedly cutting through the Persian defence, it could easily have been 10-1.

The first goal came on the counter, Chassy running through the centre, drawing the defender and laying off to the author on the right, who struck it pretty sweetly back across the goal, if he does say so himself. The second was an absolute belter from Sol, running in to space, I was on the right again but Sol went himself and smacked it from well outside the box, 2-0. The exact sequence gets a bit blurry from there, but I think the third came at the start of the second half, the ball was bouncing around on the left and I managed to head it on pass the defender and then finish with the outside of the boot, the goalie made a bit of a hash of it. The 4th was the feintest of touches from that old frontal lobe, denying Gilla in the process. A clinical finish from Andy the backdoor surgeon, first time low and hard from a crazy acute angle, keyhole colorectal purity, had us on 5. The Persians had scored their consolation by this point but I can’t remember the details as my neural pathways were too busy finding space to remember our 6th, a near post smuggler on the left put on plate for the author by Mercernary James, happy days.

Great game. It should also be noted that it was played in a great spirit too, kudos to Dynamo Tehran (and The Nannasâ„¢), it was a well contested match but almost** no argey bargey. Well played.

Then to Sushi Ten at Sol’s suggestion, delicious as usual, but super busy, and somehow Gilla’s spicy mixed don order slipped through the cracks, doh. Drank a style beer I have never heard of, Helles, courtesy of cosmopolitan beer sommelier James Mercer (on a brief hiatus from the Heaps Normals). The Mixed Dons were followed by a round of waters at Punters and some surprisingly good jazz (the jazz cigarette may have had something to do with that), taking 15 minutes to write a text to Miri on Chassy’s phone as mine had died (5 of those minutes spent narrating Chapped Penis’s recently used emojis (blame Taffy Brodesser-Akner)), then discovering I had lost my car keys, fecking idiot, only to have Gilla, like a true goalie, know exactly where they were (at the bar, something to do with a key party joke gone wrong). Wal was angling for a whiskey scrabble nightcap at the Woolly Beaver but we called it a night, like freaking middle aged dads… it was a lot!

ps. Everyone needs new boots, the cushioning, the grip, omg!
pps. Trump got inaugurated and the world-fucking began in earnest. Elon kind of did a Nazi salute, twice – he’d had way too much raspberry cordial – and then later accused Sam Altman of smoking crack. Zuck’s hair just keeps getting better every day, unlike Bezos.

* actually still quite swollen, I’ve got a freaking cankle god damn it
** Sol, I’m looking at you buddy, go hard, just 2 clicks not quite that hard

Nannas 6 plays Harchester United 4

Att: CB, CG, JH (5, MOM), RH, AW, TW (1)
DC (Arse Coach)

Act I, Scene I
In a privy chamber, the game doth start. The hero’s call of nature doth demand a swift retreat, his bladder’s burden pressing hard. Lo! A large drive doth echo in the chambers of his soul. Thus returns he to the field, amidst the clangor of Tao’s voice, booming through the center.
Enter Nanna, hastening to the field.
Nanna: Oh, woe! The call of nature did summon me, And I did run, with haste to set me free. Returning now to hear the game begun, I hear the echo of the coach’s drum.
The minutes fled, the hour was ripe, And in the field I took my fateful stripe. With coach’s command, or so I thought I heard, I moved ahead, my actions swift and stirred.
Act I, Scene II
The field, a stage of glory’s grand display.
Nanna: Upon the left post, Gilla’s throw did land, A mark of poor design, but my touch was grand. A header swift did find the keeper’s net, And so, the ball in goal did firmly set.
Behold, the keeper, weakest in their lot, Did come afield, a pass so ill begot. It fell to me as if by fate’s design, And lo, I lofted it, a goal divine.
Act I, Scene III
The Nanna’s prowess continues to shine.
Nanna: Again I moved to where the ball did fly, Gilla’s left did send it ‘cross the sky. With head held high, I sent it through the post, A third triumph, our team’s honour toast.
A fleeting chance, as mid-field turned to loss, I, the forward, took the ball, did cross. No foe before but keeper, weak and slow, I struck with aim, and made the ball bestow.
Act I, Scene IV
Another Nanna bulges the net.
Nanna: In sooth, our gallant Tao did wield his toe, A mighty instrument of valor bold, With which he made the leather sphere to go A-hacking through the air, as tales are told.
Upon the pitch, where fate and fortune dance, He placed his mark with skill most deft and bright, And struck the ball with force and steady lance, To find the net’s low corner in the night.
So did he ply his trade with strength and art, And from that scene, the crowd’s acclaim did flow, For in the game’s grand theatre, he did part The curtains of our awe with that swift toe.
Act II, Scene I
The battle’s tide turns, the Nanna’s glory set.
Nanna: As half-time came, with ball beneath my feet, A forward stance, a duel I did repeat. The big mad fool did come with wild decree, Yet I with steadfast shot did break him free.
Act II, Scene II
The Nanna’s reflections on the loss of ball in mid-field.
Nanna: In mid-field lost, our kryptonite is plain, The ball in peril, a constant source of pain. Three to two, the odds did oft confound, And skillful foes did make us yield the ground.
Act II, Scene III
Gilla’s valor in defense amidst the fray.
Nanna: While I did shine with glory’s golden ray, Gilla, steadfast, kept the foes at bay. Their ire rose, for naught could breach his might, Yet low and hard, they scored, a keeper’s blight.
Epilogue
Nanna: A final word, to those who doubt and scorn, When minutes near the end, and victory’s worn, Might not we, in wisdom, hold our ground, And not in rashness, let our fates be bound?
The clock doth tick, and two goals still ahead, No need to push, for backward we may tread. As Thierry did, so let us ponder well, For sometimes backward play doth serve us well.