9. WHEN SATURDAY’S GONE By Jonaldo

Corinthian Values

In that great game I scored the first equaliser finishing off a classy move as Pete Hyde found me unmarked in the area to slot it past the keeper. Southey said that it was a great play except for my part in it which was the easy bit apparently, despatching it into the back of the net! Two more corkers were scored one for either side. Thus the half-time score was two apiece.

The second half seen us, the white shirts, well under attack. Wave after wave of them. I found myself more in a defensive midfield role to help cope with the incessant pressure. Finally, we cracked. Not helped by me losing possession in our own half and from it the ball found Wayne Steppings who unleashed a powerful shot from distance into the top corner.

They deserved to take the lead as during their spell of dominance the dark shirts had hit the post through Rich Wolf and had three shots cleared off the line, one a brilliant and brave header away from Southey that received a hearty slap upon the back from myself in appreciation for keeping us in the match.

I couldn’t see how we could get back into it as we hadn’t been at the races in an offensive sense that second period but with six minutes to go we attacked and Pete Porter struck a curling effort from just outside the box that beat Rovers Derek’s outstretched fist in the darks goal to register an unlikely third equaliser. Then, as if that injected us all with much needed vitality we pressed for a winner. Martyn Stephens, the dark shirts’ midfield maestro who had given a Hoddlesque performance of sublime passing all afternoon expressed the wish to me that it finish as a 3-3 draw as it had been such a good game that no-one deserved to be on the losing side and sentiment seemed to be the gathering consensus (although it wasn’t much in evidence when Martyn and the darks were bloody bombarding us for a concerted period not long before).

With two minutes remaining a cross came in and I got my head to it but big John Corbett managed to divert it away with his bonce as it seemed destined for the back of the net. Then, from the resulting corner the ball made a path towards their keeper Rovers Derek and the defenders seemed to ease off knowing he would collect it as it headed down his throat. I sensed an opportunity with my aerial prowess and went in to challenge him. I felt contact between myself and Derek then felt the ball hit my left calf and as I went into the net was very pleasantly surprised to find the ball had followed me there. The defenders called foul while my team could see nothing wrong with it. Erstwhile endeavour on my part had produced reward. Indeed, several of the dark shirts players later professed to having seen nothing wrong with the goal either.

But for the good of the game I ruled it out. Contact was made between us, not intentionally on my part, and it seemed a shame to end what had been a fabulous game on such a contentious note. In fact I then blew for time a minute early so that everyone could go home happy.

I had scored once in a cracker of a match but I had upheld Corinthian values and also put the happiness of everyone before the personal glory of scoring a brace and the last ditch winner and for that I am proud of myself. Had that goal I disallowed been for my hat trick, though, it might have been a different matter.