Citius, Altius, Fortius.

Rio may have the Olympic Games, but SCB have the true Corinthian spirit.

The pitch was lush after gentle rain, the sun had skipped behind a cloud and the weather was
more like an Elysian spring morning than the bitter chill of English October and SCB, wearing
their changed navy blue strip, were ready for a cup run.

I’d like to tell you that SCB are through to the next round after what commentators around the
globe would call, with delightfully lazy cliché, a professional performance. However, in keeping
with the Corinthian spirit motif of this opening, it was anything but a professional match.

Ben Gunn in goal, however, is always professional. His booming kicks caused their defenders
great woe, with several of them afraid to head the ball as it dropped to earth covered in snow.
Ben charged from his goal bravely on several occasions, saving with his legs and then clinging to
the ball at the striker’s feet.

In front of Ben, the centre back pairing of Chris and Pat was reunited. Chris put in a performance
of quiet excellence, heading, tackling, scything with equal vigour. Pat, attempting to play the more
cultured role, went on a couple of charges up the pitch, causing mayhem in the middle and havoc
in the opposition’s half.

Scott Meyern and Mike Gowland on the right were as one. Moving with military precision, they
controlled the right hand side, retaining possession and launching more crosses than Dr Van
Helsing.

The left was glorious. Amish Patel, fresh from a night off the sauce, put in a performance of such
quality that we must beware of scouts coming to visit the Meridian Sports Club. Rob Cumber
shook off his sulk of last week, and turned tantrum into teamwork, ire into industry, and careless
disregard of ball retention into a performance of possession which left his marker begging for
respite.

James Perkins and Chris Lock were again dominant in midfield. The opposition has focused their
strength through the middle, and James and Chris dealt with everything, in support of defence
and attack like the 10th Legion, crushing the opposition through power, quality and better
leadership.

Dan Higham continued to impress and concern in equal measure up front. How can a man who
was out with injury for so long be so much fitter than the rest of us? Is it genetics? Is it lifestyle?
Does he sleep in a hyperbolic chamber? Who knows, but Dan ran all game, linking up well with
all around him and being a constant thorn in the opposition’s side.

We started fairly sluggishly, with my kick off which barely reached Dan setting a poor tone.
However, whenever we had the ball we looked threatening. Passed zipped around the slick
surface, impressing the visiting WAGs (Mrs Higham and Mike’s Fan Club), causing the opposition
confusion and woe. It was after one of these moves, involving fine work down the right by Scott
and Mike, with James coming along to help, that the ball was pinged into Dan’s feet. The ball
stuck to his touch like glue and Dan was spinning into space before he was cut down. Dan’s
plaintive pleas to the referee went unheeded, and Dan was eventually booked for trying to explain
to the referee all the various meanings of the phrase “Two footed scything horror lunge from
behind”. Soon after it was SCB who were behind. As a through ball bisected the defence, Ben
rushed out and blocked at the striker’s feet. The ball bobbled loose, but delight at Ben’s glorious
save was dampened as the ball dropped to another opponent, who struck the ball firmly
goalwards. Pat, haring back onto the line, could only get a touch on the ball and it went in
between his legs to put us 0-1 down.

Character was needed to get us back into the game, and after a fairly loud investigation into the
cause of the goal, SCB calmed down and began to play some football. The opposition created
nothing of note from open play, but Ben was called into action to tip a corner over the bar. Amish
and Rob began to assert their dominance down the left and Rob was even booked for an over-
exuberant tackle. The ball was there to be won, so we can’t blame him. Dan then got us back in
the game through sheer force of will, fighting to get to a shanked goal kick and knocking the ball
into the abandoned net from 25 yards.

Then followed the best move of our season. Amish Patel, who had been playing a blinder at left
back (so much so that one of their defenders said to me “Who’s your left back? He’s amazing.” I
had nothing witty or scathing to say at the time, much to my chagrin) put in an interception in our
half. One two and (one) two and through and through he charged through the opposition like
Alexander at Gaugamela, except that Alexander didn’t used James and Rob to go round the
opposition. As he burst into the box, he flicked the ball nonchalantly to me (with the outside of his
boot, obviously) and hared into the middle. The ball sat up invitingly but I, stung by not setting up
Dan last week, played the ball across the box. Amish had continued his run and arrived at the
near post in perfect time, clipping the ball into the goal past the hapless keeper. It was glorious.

It wasn’t enough though. And we knew it. Wave after wave of navy blue poured forward. After
some cracking work in the middle and the right, I laid the ball off to Rob, who very nearly hit the
corner flag. Chris then pounced on a loose ball to send a drive flashing over the bar. A couple of
free kicks sailed too high, but we were in control. The game was expansive and some passes
went astray, but it felt that every time we had the ball we were going to create a change.

Half time came and went. Wise words cooled hot head and focused wavering minds.

It didn’t do us much good though. An attacking throw in on the left was intercepted and a (frankly,
brilliant, credit where it’s due) ball was played between full and centre backs. The danger looked
to be averted as Pat rushed to cover, but his despairing tackle wasn’t enough to spot the striker
finding the far corner.

Suddenly we were level! Confusion reigned over the SCB ranks. The inquest to the goal was
postponed; we had a game to win. Gradually, we took over the game. Pat danced through the
opposition, seeking to emulate Amish’s first half wonder dribble, but Mike’s return pass was just
to far ahead of him and he ended up fouling an opponent by the corner flag. He used his honeyed
words to keep himself out of the book. Chris Lock, who had been having a fine game, controlling
and passing and acting as the team’s fulcrum, felt his hamstring and was withdrawn for Ligio
Martinez and his wand-like right boot. Dan Higham dropped into centre midfield, and Mike
Gowland went up front.

Scott was withdrawn for Gav Redknap, who came on at fight back and linked up well with Ligio.
The new, fresh right hand side became our outlet as we turned the screw on the opposition. Chris
played a through ball to me and I managed to turn my man on the half way line. Not really
knowing what else to do, I charged forwards, muscled my way past one tackle, fought off another,
closed my eyes and smacked the ball. It went inside the right hand post and we were ahead.

Pat then got booked. All the silver tongues in the entire world wouldn’t have saved him this time.
The opposition lazily claimed for a penalty after Ben and Chris combined to force their striker to
shoot wide. I nobbled their centre back’s weak ankles. I also managed to turn my man and lay the
ball off to James, but he didn’t catch his shot as he would have liked. Rob and Amish combined
again to win a free kick, but Rob could only float it over the goal.

We weren’t safe yet, but finally we managed to put the game beyond doubt. Ben’s goal kick
plummeted to earth like a meteorite and hit me on the head. Mike, ever the predator, pounced on
the loose ball and guided it past the onrushing keeper. He turned, jubilant, to the touchline,
expecting praise and glory from his good lady but she’s gone inside to get a drink. For shame,
because it was a fine finish.
The game got very scrappy towards the end, and both sides had some chances. 4-2 was a fair
result though, and the good ship SCB ploughs on into the unchartered waters of the next round of
the cups.

Next week, it’s the bread and butter of the league. Let’s keep the run going.