Following last week’s loss, which reputable news outlets variously described as “crushing”, “unmitigated”, “tragic” and “best-forgotten”, the Krakens started off by playing a new style of hockey: “Reverse-Hockey”. Pioneered by your erstwhile correspondent, to the untrained eye it may simply look like running backwards. But to the initiated it is a cunning and complex strategy to confuse the enemy. Sadly, testing is in its early stages and, as with all things, subject to the ravages of gravity. So, while performing the classic reverse-hockey “double-half-roundhouse” manoeuvre your otherwise-nimble-footed correspondent, tripped backwards over his own feet within the first 20 seconds of the match. With DoD therefore settled early, the strategy was abandoned. Fear not, ‘reverse-hockey’ continues development in a research facility deep underground.
The match proceeded in the usual Kraken fashion, the opposition scored first...and then scored again.
But the winds of change were blowing through the denuded trees of Broadwater. It was suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, 1-2.
Particular mention should, at this point, be made of the new faces donning the Kraken shirt. Gordon - some regular readers will know of this talented young man from his outings in the Pilgrims. I also have the pleasure of introducing Patrick, a long-time-listener-first-time-caller. Early reports suggest he possesses speed and skill well suited to ‘Reverse-Hockey’. Only time will tell.
I digress; having tasted the rush of scoring, it was a crushing blow that not-more-than 2 minutes later Horley were to exact a prompt turnover. 1-3.
The brave souls of the Kraken Assault were unperturbed, delivering a lusty response with a jinxing-weaving-passing-hoping-praying-scoring manoeuvre. 2-3.
At half-time hopes were high, albeit the orange slices were absent. Aghast as you may be dear reader, rest assured the appropriate complaint has been submitted.
What followed in the second half cannot be described, only lived. But I shall try to reduce these great deeds to the page as faithfully as these mortal hands can muster.
Young Gordon, ever fleet-of-foot, managed to find the backboard a total of 4 times during the match. Some say he ate shavings of unicorn horn before the match to achieve such precision. Some say he uses telekinesis to bend space and time to his will. Your correspondent has been unable to verify these claims but has no reason to doubt them.
With adroit stick work and laser-like passing the team pulled together. There was further scoring-glory for Nick, Patrick and, craving your indulgence gentle reader, myself.
This did not please the opposition, who scored only one further goal on a break-away. What has changed within the Kraken defensive ranks you may ask? Was it Toplas’s red-beanie-yellow-glasses combo? Maybe. Was it their goalie flicking the ball into the face of their own defender? Perhaps. Was is Joe smashing their defender in the knee cap with the ball? It can’t have hurt our chances. Whatever the reason, no doubt the Queen’s birthday honours list will reflect the tale fittingly.
And with the score at 7:4 to the home side, the final whistle was sounded. Some early reports have called it “The whistle heard around the world” and “Wonder-Whistle: If Gal Gadot were a flautist”. Not even the lack of a dram of the traditional Kraken Rum could dampen the after glow of victory. Songs will be sung down the ages no doubt.
That, loyal reader, brings our story to a close. I trust these pages will bear a true record for you and, in time, your great-great-grandchildren.
Until next week dear reader,