Guildford Hockey Club Est. 1912

Gondoliers v Haslemere

 25th Oct 2014

................There are two types of match reports:

Easy ones and ones that require a great deal of dexterity.

This is the latter...

I could mention James our goalie, who was man of the match despite the score sheet. I could mention the crazy Haslemere defender who was continually trying to get sent off by his own ref for insubordination and the sporting of a beer gut bigger than English Electric's Taj Mahal 1950's solenoid transformers. I could mention my new hockey stick which was half price at £5000. I could mention Tom Carney and Co being absent on a transgender golfing holiday in Argentina. I could mention the weather, the heat, the haze and anti-aluvian shepherd. I could mention our midfield tendancies to take in 'History of Art A level mock papers', mid game!

I could mention a list that goes on. But ultimately we were outclassed by a rickety opposition because we were: frankly Mr. Shankly - a man down.
Which man?


Or was it little ole me who missed the open goal having actually beaten the keeper but just missed the overun of a very fast ball?

I want to dominate the centre forward position - a place I am beginning to understand and respect. Woe betide any part timers who attempt to sub me off, particularly if they have been away at the 18th tee while we all slaved away like crazy lemmings.

The low point was when a 'Johnathan Miller' lookalike with co-op stringy chicken legs actually burnt me off a ball I was sure to win. His gum shield actually reminded me of early 70's ICI plastics which was further evidence that my ankle, dodgy leg and home grown impudence was no match for a seasoned player, young or old 'Vic' ...pun intended.

One after another the goals went in; perhaps because Haslemere wanted us to having nothing to celebrate because they knew we would riot over the post match meal where the plastic cutlery and throw away plates tasted as good as the grub. The usual flatulent-making beers were administered in the over footballing frequented club house.

I considered several times not wanting to write about it. I feel so disdained; losing I mean; like it matters. Neville or Nevil Shute once wrote two really good novels. One called Landfall, the other, So Disdained. The latter summed up my reflections of a match where I felt let down, jilted by my expectant lover. I expect more from myself and more from those that bogged off to play with other types of balls.

Gondo's really are a lovely bunch of players. Some of our long channel hits are actually really good; but we so often lack stamina to make the easy obvious passes that will position us into the points. I am trying to fulfill my role as cabin boy and serious forward both at the same time and I need more time. I can see the older guys must have once been really treasured players. Andy Roberts and the other guy that looks like Benny Hill who turned up today under duress - in their hey day they would even have been a match for British Leyland's ducking real issues on the shop floor at Longbridge.

Tim looked good today, he got redder and redder as the day went on; perhaps he was suffering from sun-stroke the moment he admitted to working off New Bond Street as a Management Consultant. Good on you Tim, for coming out about what you really do when you're not running off that Lactic Acid at the end of every game.

I shall end where I began: Dexterity - the new stick worked well today, but as is so often our fancy footwork and individual skills so often leads us into cul-de-sac's beyond our making or control. The one consolation: we have a better clubhouse and we don't have to suffer tunnel closures as do those who live that little bit further out because they failed to get proper jobs like pro-golfer or management consultant.

Guildford 0
Haslemere 5

Ultravox 3 into 1


GHC Logo full colour final

Thank you to our Partners