Match Report : Fleet Spurs Vets 1 – 8 Bagshot Reserves

The thing with Leiscester winning the Premier league is that people are assuming it’s a fluke. The real problem is the blind denial that perhaps they deserve it. They’re winning more games than everyone else. Jamie Vardy is no slouch and scores goals. In the same breath, Harry Kane (he’s one of our own) has shown that he’s not a one season wonder. Things happen and results are achieved when  you have the right ingredients.

I bring your attention to the last game of our season. I may add that our traditional slow opening was compounded by our centerback arriving 5 minutes before kick off and taking 35 minutes to get changed leaving us with a thrown together formation. After this usual slow opening Pete decided to liven the game up by slotting it in his own net. In a finish reminiscent of his goal earlier in the season, he poked it and rolled slowly into the net, past an onrushing keeper. I say onrushing, I mean glancing upward and then stepping to his left.


The score stayed that way for around 35 minutes before we got bored and decided to concede another 3. Half time, 0-4.

After a motivational half time talk we returned to the pitch with a slight change in line up, Dysonandro on the right and Nick The Fluet up front. We started winning a few free kicks and Scoot stepped up to deliver. He crafted a beautifully flighted free kick from just outside the center circle.

I’ll pause at this point. 3 years previously Colin had lined up a corner and struck the ball just as sweetly. Driven across the front of the goal, past the first defender before meeting an onrushing closet striker who floated through the air. Like the Matrix the world slowed, time dragged like a night out with Roy. The only moving things, the player, the ball. The ball the player, a clean connection, driven like a shot from a cannon into the top corner, time regained its footing and the net rippled like Roger Moore’s face in the centrifuge in Moonraker.


Back to the present day, the ball arced through the air, 15 defenders (they put extras on in anticipation) ran forward. One lone wolf attacker drifted out then turned back in, cutting through the defenders like a life guard through the surf. Rising like an eagle on an updraft the world slowed again. The only sounds were the steady heartbeat of the floating winner in life and the despairing footsteps of the forlorn keeper rushing out.

Calculations completed the hero in our story met the ball, deftly changing the ball flight, using the pace of the delivery to gently angle the ball up, over and down into the bottom corner. 1-4 and a goal of great importance. In the same way clocks are set by Greenwich, the Greenwich clocks are set by Dysandro goals. Every 3 years, to the mark.

Superb delivery, exceptional finish. If you have the ingredients you get the results.

Oh, we conceded another 4 and Dysonandro was agonisingly close to getting a second from King’s cross (not the station) which goes to show, perhaps the defenders playing up front will be the key to unlocking success for the team.



Paul ‘Silent’ Knights
James ‘Clockwork’ Dyson
Martin ‘Leg Work’ King
Pete ‘Dislikes Work’ Bowers
Mark ‘Kraftwerk’ Elrick
Nick ‘Men at Work’ Fleuty
Colin ‘Work Shy’ Vickery
Roy ‘Goal Shy’ Allaway
Dan ‘Shy and Retiring’ Fleuty
Phil ‘Sly and Retiring’ Taw
John ‘John, John, John, John, John, John’ Jollow
James ‘Golden Touch’ Coote
Awol ‘Olden Touch’ Whiting