Wilderspool Causeway

They hadn’t navigated one of the world’s major rivers to get here, boating down the Mekong or ballooning in over the Po, but whichever way you look at it they would definitely have had to cross the Kennet as they made their way east from their base on the outskirts of IKEA.

Woodford Park, the venue for Evan’s games this season, is easy to get to but very difficult to get in to. For the last two weeks, for example, we’ve been greeted by a cutthroat gesture from the steward at the entrance, indicating that regardless of whether we’ve paid to be there or not, they can’t accommodate us under any circumstances.

You might recall that we had similar difficulties accessing The Goals Centre in previous years, obstructed by a well meaning official from the Berkshire Youth Development League who had graduated magna cum laude with a degree in Genially Lingering in Foyers from Binfield Tertiary Learning Centre and was studying a distance learning master’s in Lobby Clogging – but at least he was welcoming with his clipboard, timetable, agenda, referee’s briefing suite and vision for the future. No cutthroat gestures attended our arrival there, ever.

On a beautiful morning of wind, swirling leaves, brooding skies, sun and rainbows, Coach Peter was alone with a threadbare squad as yet again an assortment of factors were at work to deplete us; what’s more, Coach Michael was off with the Fillies and Mares at Ascot for a day on the flats, with the going soft but heavy down the hill to Swinley Bottom.

We therefore had no substitutes against a Calcot team full of fire and endeavour, shorn high with the clippers; tough tackling, industrious, hoofing and freewheeling. No signs of mourning for the SavaCentre days, Megabowl or Utopia nightclub, at least among the players – this was a fresh generation with the opportunity to fashion their own futures in the Lingonberry quarter of Reading.

Unfortunately, apart from one or two glorious flashes of brilliance – burning bush moments in the Autumn sunshine – we were a little more inhibited. At one point, for example, one of our players missed a tackle and burst into tears, leaving the pitch to sit on a heap of coats. As we tried, one player short, to make an impression on the game, Coach Peter knelt down beside the distraught figure to offer calm words of solace and encouragement.

We could only speculate as to where the other absentees were, because none of the parents had hit the WhatsApp group to explain. Were they at a Button Moon convention at Teddington Exhibition Centre? Or perhaps they were eating heirloom tomatoes and scrambled eggs at The Oakwood Centre: we didn’t know.

The problem was, our players on the pitch were scarcely more present than those away. Calcot’s first goal resulted from a horrible defensive mix-up, setting a pattern which was repeated throughout as our old defensive demons returned in number.

After this goal, though, Evan scored with an outlandish strike from the halfway line, lofting the ball instinctively towards goal and seeing it bounce over the ‘keepers head and into the net. He then – arguably – scored a second in quick succession as Josh Dance arrowed the ball at him from a throw, which he then controlled and shot towards goal on the half volley. The goalkeeper backpedalled, clawing the ball away from its seeming position behind the line. Regardless of whether it crossed or not, Jack Parry was on hand to slot the rebound into the corner to make sure.

With our teary eyed player now back in the fold thanks to the patience and motivation of Peter, it looked as though we might be able to consolidate the advantage. An ill wind followed, however, as Connor, the engine of the team, took his turn as goalkeeper, leaving the rest of the team to play without a captain. While Wokingham & Emmbrook sought to play in keeping with the game’s best principles, Calcot followed the beat of a different drum, launching the ball up into the wind to see where it would fall.

The match was lost to the certainty of chance; if you hit the ball into the mixer regularly enough – and have some good finishers, as Calcot do, then the game of percentages will work in your favour. Amidst the chaos, though, were some moments to salvage. Gymnast Josh Dance executed a forward roll, mid-dribble, and carried on with the ball. More unusually, Evan managed to execute a successful slide tackle.

This is notable because Evan’s tackling record could be described generously as ‘patchy’; sometimes he quarter-heartedly dangles a foot in the general direction of an opponent and at other times he lashes out and takes a player’s legs with no obvious reference to the ball. Last week, he clipped someone’s ankles, cynically. Coach Michael later challenged him on this, but Evan seemed not entirely comprehending of the problem. I chipped in: ‘Evan. Listen. Evan. Look at me. Was the ankle tap you did a good or a bad thing?’ He thought for a minute: ‘Medium’, he replied, with the not-entirely-faulty logic that the lad had it coming to him.

So, Wokingham’s unbeaten record this season fell among the fluttering leaves. It was still a praiseworthy effort though, given the emotional wobble and lack of substitutes. Let’s hope they got their selfies with Mr Spoon and will be back – rejuvenated of mind and spirit – to face Purley Jubilee Lions FC at the same time and place next week, respectful of  – but never defined by – the gestures of stewards and league officials.