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23 Sept 2009 - King's Sports Centre, Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands
1950, an important year in the Old Boys chronicles; the EBs mum was born, yes, the EB does have genuine, bona fide parents, Stevie Gaffing celebrated his 17th birthday with a second hand and somewhat well used Cooper 500 bought for three and sixpence and a sherbet twister from Peter Collins, and the hit song, "If I knew you were coming I'd have baked a cake" was first penned in the US by three blokes of which the EB knows little and cares even less. However, last night, against the formidable force of the KPMG beancounters, the EB were in a culinary mood and the song was particularly pertinent although brass bands, even the grandest in the land, were not on offer, they were at the airport waiting for someone else to land. The OBs cake always promises to be particularly spicy, with all the components that would leave someone stuffed. Coming into this, the first play off game, the EBs had a seasons best goal tally of scored 73, conceded 12 giving a goal difference of an amazing 61 from twelve games. However, the proof of the pudding is always in the eating, and having lost once already this season to a team of lawyers, it would have been ill advised of the OBs to have treated these pen pushing professionals with contempt, at least from the start anyway. With a former OB amongst their ranks (Ken "The Stick" Adumekwe) and one half of a previous and formidable Sunset centre half duo, the number crunchers from Cricket Square were not going to be a push over, especially because due to other commitments and injuries, the OBs were down to nine available players.
The cake making started brightly, the OBs were always going to be the ingredients but it was nice of KPMG to play their part and beat the mixture together. For fifty sorry minutes, with the exception of their goal keeper and the ever impressive Ian Robertson, they kicked, and kicked, and kicked. A surprising contribution, but maybe their talent was simply in their calculators and they had obviously left these in the office. The game never promised to be a spectacle with a top team playing a bottom team, but the "players" from KPMG turned themselves into one. But every cake needs to be mixed and maybe this was their part to play. As the EB remembers from its Home Economic class days, where it actually won a prize for its Christmas Log and a savoury cobbler (both of which could attract puerile puns but the EB is not that kind of match report), a cake starts with its staple ingredients; Sives, the egg, ever present and holds the cake together but is fragile when dropped or when things are hit at it from long distance was looking for a second successive clean sheet and in front of him and assisting him in that endeavour was Roughead, the flour (self raising naturally), an integral part of any cake but one that can be combustible in the wrong hands and Whitaker, milk; shiny white, nutritious and good for you although can go off if left in the sun. A fine base, which has the EB licking it's lips already and added to that was the goal scoring threat of L Elliott, who added a touch of fruit, of the natural kind, not as in Elton John, as a black currant; found on small stalks and full of energy.
A wonderful base for any cake and one that if simply baked at 450 degrees for 90 minutes would produce something bordering on culinary perfection. However, the EB has more developed tastes and prefers a little more to it's flour based treats, ever since Amsterdam and their fine brownies anyway, and thus more ingredients were needed. A sprinkling of yeast, Chiazza, because of his ability to always gets a rise from the rainbow wearing fan club that have taken to following the OBs since he made the decision before the season started to wear pre-pubescent sized shorts, and marzipan, Blenkinsop, as a flavoursome layer added to all the best cakes, loved by housewives yet a source of intrigue for most men, almost an enigma, are two ingredients that give any cake strength and definition. And so it proved, with these two in the middle, KPMG, if they could stop kicking players and try the ball instead, would have met their match. But KPMG didn't really get past the OB toppings; starting with the mercurial Henshaw, as evil treacle, so dangerous to be close to as the deceptive stickiness will always be a threat, and the talented Ludford-Thomas, who because of his sweet brownness could only ever be a chocolate drop, naturally, and finally with Cummings, the beige icing, sitting atop a completed cake, but without the cake, just a gooey mess on someone's floor. This trio of toppings were more than KPMG could stomach and their persistent attacking, ball work and vision, backed up with the strong foundation of the base and the cheeky midsection, resulted in an emphatic win.
For the purists amongst the EBs readers, which is probably just the EBs mum, it was one nil at half time, following excellent work by Marzipan in chasing the keeper down, robbing him of the ball, taking it out of the area and firing home. Shortly after the break, Marzipan again contributed and following good team work from the other ingredients, rifled home to make the cake comfortable, back of the net, in the oven, Gas Mark 5. Then the evil treacle, slower than a romcom at the cinema with your girlfriend when you should be watching your team play live in the pub with your mates, executed a perfect, and naturally speed deficient lob, to put the game beyond KPMG's stunted reach. Black currant then demonstrated why you can never discount those tasty black fruits on little stalks by unleashing the fiercest of drives that flew vitamin C aided in to the goal, rocketing past the stunned 'keeper. And to cap it off, egg scored a wonderfully struck penalty following farcical decision making by one of the KPMG choppers who handled the ball, after black currant had allegedly caught it, although with those stalks, no one could really tell. So, the OBs baked the perfect cake, five goals, and a clean sheet and a goal for the egg, a man of the match contender surely? No, it went to Marzipan, the enigma. Battenberg if you care to ask the EB but that's just posh. Dart next week, eat up, be merry, and try to survive the Jolly Roger. |
