Apparently, Wokingham and Emmbrook are an ‘FA Charter Club.’ This means that on Evan’s sleeve there is a picture of England’s Three Lions alongside the Golden Arches of McDonald’s. Small countries such as Switzerland and Uruguay produce better players than we do. Is there any reason why?
This was a local derby against the QPR of Wokingham. They were formed in 1975 by a QPR fan called Terry who lived on Reeves Way, and their shirt is a blue and white hooped effort in honour of the shambolic outfit from Shepherd’s Bush. I’m sure Terry would be proud of how the club has progressed, as they are now also an FA Charter club, which means that they too have a right to bear the sacred lions and arches on their arms.
Last week was a story of accursed beanie hats, and this week I was horrified to see a variety of colourful thermal leggings as Wokingham conducted their perfectly calibrated warm up. As mentioned last week, warmth should be generated from within, as far as possible. Granted, it was a cold morning, but this really was an embarrassment and all the Wokingham fans could do was gently send the scenario up with some adapted verses of Dead End Street:
On a cold and frosty morning,
Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning.
And my feet are nearly frozen,
Boil the tea and put some toast on.
What are we living for?
A nailed-on spanking from a fake QPR?
No chance to emigrate,
Cath Kidston leggings worn by our Number 8!
Quite frankly, I wasn’t in the mood for this. I wasn’t ‘feeling it’, as they say: the leggings, the beanies, the QPR connection, the forgotten gloves, the near certainty of defeat having seen our worst goalkeeper robed up to start the game between the sticks. I was ready to snap before we’d even started. Sure enough, within 1.3 seconds of kick-off, Reeves Rangers put the ball past an utterly unresponsive goalkeeper. A few seconds later, they scored from a throw-in: this is not permitted and will not stand! ‘Why have you given that, ref?’ I yelled, in contravention of the FA Charter (which, let’s face it, was fatally undermined from the moment they got in bed with Ronald McDonald). Unusually, the ref decided to answer, apportioning the blame to our keeper who apparently was supposed to know that if they left the ball without touching it at all, the goal wouldn’t have stood. Give me strength. Could the ref not see that this was already the most casual of cakewalks? The game was over.
Evan started in defence, looking about as comfortable as Donald Trump at a human rights convention as Queens Park Attendant after Queens Park Ranger skipped past him to effortlessly slot the ball home. Another dad said that Evan kept getting caught in possession due to his lack of confidence in the keeper. There was possibly some truth in this, or possibly he was just trying to help me feel better. Whichever way you look at it, the first half was an unmitigated disaster from which it would be impossible to recover.
To add insult to injury, the Reeves Rangers coaches decided that a half-time team talk wasn’t for them. They obviously felt too far ahead to issue any instructions whatsoever. They didn’t feel the need to warn against complacency; they didn’t see fit to encourage good sportsmanship or grace in victory. Instead, they allowed their charges to rampage around the pitch, disturbing the downcast Wokingham players as they sought to listen to Michael and Peter’s pick-me-up messages. I was reminded of a motto from Martyn Joseph’s Ryder Cup song: ‘To Lose with Honour and Win with Empathy.’ A good one to remember, perhaps, and in fact the shepherds did need to stay focused because Wokingham are always stronger in the second half.
Each of Wokingham’s goals were forced over the line from a yard out, like rugby tries.This was encouraging; they were going to go down fighting. The best of these resulted from Evan picking up the ball in an advanced position, where he’s more comfortable, taking it past a defender and threading a well-weighted ball through to Connor Mulvaney who scrambled it over the line after an initial save. The other two goals were courtesy of Jack Parry’s irrepressible tenacity. He’s like the figure in the Johnny Cash song: ‘You could stand me up at the gates of hell, but I won’t back down. I will stand my ground.’ At the end, his dad, a fellow Emmbrook pedagogue, said that it was the most depressed he had ever felt after a football match.
So there were some encouraging signs in the Woodley wasteland, but they were difficult to find. We were cheered up no end after the game, however, by the surprise arrival of Steve, Emma, Connie and Charlie, whose Maidenhead Dolphins team were up against Shinfield Rangers. Big up to you for the season!
Wilderspool Causeway 