Decline is inevitable in life. Whatever immense summits you may reach, whatever successes you may enjoy, eventually, you will lose to the one opponent that catches us all - time. But enough about Dicko, let's talk about Saturday.
The Zak Hond, still very much in the hunt for a play-off place, faced off against the Men's 3rd XI, who were not. Despite some pre-game kidology from Ben, who claimed to have no players before turning up with 15, the Zaks were in a confident mood. With a strong, battle-hardened squad and the most prolific Zaks attack in history, we had every reason to fancy our chances against a Men's 3s who were experienced something of a title hangover. And for those who think 9 months is a long time to be hungover, try spending a season with James McCarthy.
Was it overconfidence, hubris, arrogance even? Why did the Zaks make such a shaky start? Was it because skipper Mikey had not started? Was it the miserable weather? Macca attributed it to Dicko and Jonny being in bad moods. Jonny attributed it to Doddsy making him hit balls and jog a little bit in the warm-up. Doddsy blamed the absence of a Go-Pro to show off for. Jacob blamed the umpires. And Dicko blamed Winston Churchill and the Tories. Either way, the 3s dominated the early exchanges. Kingo made a nuisance of himself as per, and the 3s' midfield were able to find a huge amount of space in behind.
The plucky underdogs soon took the lead, capitalising on their early dominance by winning an early short corner. However, by their own admission, the 3s lacked much of an option from the top of the D, so the Zaks back five were confident of seeing them off. Now, this author is not one to unfairly attribute blame, or to single people out for criticism. But most people have a pretty clear definition of what "inside the post" looks like. Specifically, if you are standing on the right post, your feet, and more importantly, your stick, should be inside the post. Not in the middle of the goal, not "feet outside the right post, stick dangled outside left foot whilst on the reverse", but just inside. Unfortunately, Jonny Witt, as he often does, saw things slightly differently. The "left slip" option spotted our hapless right back, drilled the ball hard at Jonny's prone left foot (which to re-iterate was outside the right post) which deflected it past a blameless Doddsy. 1-0.
Thankfully, this version of the Zaks are a resilient bunch. The early setback might have winded lesser teams, but this team of warriors are made of sterner stuff. "Samoan Joe" Spoony and Goodsey took control of the defensive situation to party like it was 2006 and the Zaks were soon back on top. With the 3s pushing up, looking for a killer second goal, they left too many spaces in behind their slightly makeshift defence. First it was the skipper's turn to get on the scoresheet, a smart long ball forward from George caught several defenders out of position and Mikey and Liam combined to help the captain equalise. 1-1.
Liam, looking every inch the predator (particularly that monstrosity on his top lip) took full advantage of a similar defensive lapse to put the Zaks into the lead (2-1), before a short-corner from George gave the Zaks some breathing space (3-1 at half-time).
With a two goal cushion and the early storm weathered, Mikey decided to let his Cavaliers off the leash and play some liquid hockey. Soon, Liam was scoring again, once again exposing the inexperienced 3s defence as he slotted past the blameless Vijay “Max” Pawar (more on him later) to make it 4-1. Shortly thereafter, the 3s broke into the D for one last push, only to see their last real chance to save the game extinguished by the save of the season, predictably not made by Dodds. With Mark Ramprakash's younger twin stationed on the line, the young Surrey batsman effortlessly mastered the "reverse upright backward defensive" as the ball dropped to square leg, a safe distance from the goal, as the massive crowd marvelled at shades of Atherton at Johannesburg.
One could see the M3s visibly deflate at such an extraordinary display of technical defiance, and the Zaks were ready to finish the job. Mikey and Liam both added further goals 5-1; 6-1), with the latter completing his hat-trick. However, the young Australian's treble was almost derailed by VJ - a man so enraged by being left exposed by his team that he charged 25 metres up the field, Cardigan-esque, intercepted Rubber and illegally cleared the ball with his feet some 10m outside the D. Despite the Zaks finishing the chance and despite Doddsy’s plea for clemency, Arnie had no choice but to yellow card the valiant M3s keeper for the second time in 5 "Gran Clasicos". Filth.
The Zaks took full advantage, with Mikey sending a final chance goalbound - or so he thought, as the Baron Gottfried Von Hanscke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha-via-Accra The Third spied a chance to steal a goal of his own, cruelly denying the skipper a richly deserved hat-trick. 7-1. There was still time for Macca to miss an open goal after going for a Hollywood slide, before Arnie called time on the game.
Post-game was predictably messy, exacerbated by a slight administrative mix-up on Doddsy's part. Suffice to say "14 people to watch the rugby" is not the same as "enough seating for 8, with only 4 being able to see the screen" and as per usual the Zaks 'keeper really couldn’t be held accountable.
Bring on next week.
Result: Zak Hond 7 - 1 Men's 3s
Sac de Chiens 6-0 PorteSud 3s
En l'honneur de "Sam Francais", notre superstar invité.
Bonjour et bienvenue a le rapport de match pour le jou entre les HWHC "Sacs de Chiens" et "PorteSud 3s".
Les presages pour les Sacs etaient mal. Le vendredi, "Sachet de Thé" a arrache avec le grippe. "André" volait a Pay-Bas parce que il sont usuraire*, "Nicolas" n'avait pas payé ses abonnements et "Caoutchouc**" se fistait*** au travail, même si c'était son anniversaire. Parce qu'il a maintenant une petite amie par accident, il pleut littéralement de la merde sur le "Caoutchouc" en ce moment.
L'aide est arrivee sous la forme de "Sam Francais" de le premiere equipe. Malhereusement, "Matthieu Grand-Bretagne" etait indisponsible, mais les Sacs, nous étions confiants.
Mais alors, une catastrophe! "Christophe Lis" il devait arrêter de jouer parce que son dos etait mal et aussi, "Liam" a tiré sa chaîne de porc****. Maintenant, nous étions onze. Merde.
Toutefois, Les Sacs sont forts, comme les cuisses de "Serge Betsen". "Jean Mouillé" a frappé une grande passe à "Liam", qui fini avec brio. 1-0.
Prochainement, "Dicko" a ensuite fait une grande passe sur son revers, mais il peut avoir été un accident. En tous cas, "Michel" a marqué une fois de plus. 2-0.
A l'arrière, ca allait bien. "Terrains" et "Cuillère" sont restés en contrôle, et "Doddsy", le guadien de but, il a fait beaucoup de sauvetages. Je pense que "Doddsy" est le meilleur joueur de la saison. Il est une legende.
L'arbitre - "Chien" - voulait envoyer quelqu'un, mais il n'était pas sûr si c'était "Cuillère" ou "Christophe Pierre" - donc nous sommes partis avec une mauvaise faute dans le D. Malheureusement, "Dicko" n'a pas eu autant de chance, et il a reçu un carton verte pour avoir coupé un joueur de PorteSud en deux. C'était un acte de violence gratuite. Zut alors. Maintenant, "George Sucré" a commencé à dominer. Il a marqué deux petit corners en succession rapide. 4-0 à la mi-temps. Sacre bleu!
La seconde moitié était très simple."Alexandré" a utilisé son bracelet de montre pour faire bon effet, tandis que "Francais", "Christophe Pierre" et "Sucré" ont très bien pris soin de la balle.
"Jalopy Negligé" a recu une carte verte parce qu'il a fait un mauvais tacle, mais il avait encore l'audace de s'en plaindre. Il est un gars de merd!
"Sucré" a marqué à nouveau pour compléter un incroyable triplé. 5-0. Tres bon. "Michel" a ensuite complété le pointage, ajoutant un sixième but avec une finition soignée. 6-0.
Les Sacs étaient très heureux, nous avions triomphé. Maintenant, il était temps pour la bière. Nous avions beaucoup de bières. Et puis "Doddsy" a eu mal à la tête. Mais il a obtenu un MacDo, donc tout était bon.
*sharking
**rubber
***fisted
****literally, "string of pork" AKA "hamstring"
The Diary of Paul H Dickson
Saturday 13th January 2018 and Sunday 14th January
10am - Wake up, though this is technically impossible because I'm permanently woke these days. Today is game day. The title is on the line.
1100 - Reading time; took in two giants of socialism - Engels and Owen Jones.
1230 - Make token effort to move some of the 48 brands of Diageo sitting round the house, at Hanna’s request. If she thinks I’m taking my home brewed whiskey out of the bath though, she’s off her head.
1300 - Lunch. Feed my new cat, Chairman Miaow.
1330 - Leave for Oxford. Take the bus to put a middle finger up to Thatcher.
1510 - Arrive at Iffley Road. Lead warm up.
1620 - Match finally begins, 10 minutes late. I am on the bench. Presumably this is to lull Oxford into a false sense of security. It seems to work as they take a 2-0 lead.
1630 - Mikey calls for the cavalry. He brings me on at left mid, but secretly I interpret his instructions as “left back”. I decide not to share this plan with Alex - too many instructions just confuse him. I was hoping he'd take the hint but mainly just stands next to me, like I'm the only guy he knows at a party or something. Even though I would never stand next to Alex at a party. He is a confused young man. The reports of his Tinder dates punching him in the face concern me. I worry he will end up strangled inside a zip-up bag like that MI5 guy if he carries on like this.
1645 - Why does Nathan never pass it to me?
1648 - Reluctantly move into left midfield at last.
1655 - Half time. Christophe briefly nominates himself as captain for a middling speech. He doesn’t pass to me either, to the extent he won’t even give me the Jelly Babies. Fuming.
1700 - Second half. I am on the bench again, presumably being saved for a late onslaught.
1705 - Groundsy comes off “feeling ill”. Secretly he knows that he’ll never be able to provide the forward thrust we need, so sacrifices himself for the team so I can come on.
1711 - Mikey misses an open goal.
1725 - Still 2-0. Nathan is shouting at me for some reason. For a moment I assumed it was to sub me off, then I realised how ridiculous that would be.
1732 - I go off. We’ve got no chance of turning this around now.
1733 - GOAL TO THE ZAKS.
1733 and 5 seconds - I frantically try and call off George, the new kid. He’s OK, but not skillful enough for the Zaks. We need experience and nous that only a 8 year Veteran, double Zak of the Year can provide.
1734 - George has not heard me. All hope is lost.
1735 - Final whistle. A cruel defeat.
1745 - Plum Schnapps in the Car Park.
1810 - Return to the hotel. I am sharing with Chris Reid, who cannot stop saying the word "C*nt". Can't work out if all Australians do this habitually, or if it's like a tic or something. I suspect it's just another example of Mr Hockey's toxic masculinity.
1910 - We reconvene for voting. I am torn on voting - as my hockey shows, I am a natural showman, so doing the announcements suit me well. But democracy, as a wise man once said, is the worst form of government. Anyway, Christophe wins Dick of the Day (which will teach him for not passing to me) and George wins Man of the Match, despite refusing to come off to allow me to equalise.
1940 - We are in a pub at last. Doddsy won’t let us stay for more than one because he is a fascist.
2000 - Second pub. They have lost Doddsy’s booking and they don’t sell Guinness. And none of the other booze is Diageo. Shambles.
2030 - Everyone else is playing 3 man but I am stuck talking to Jonny about hockey tactics. He thinks he is an expert. This is what hell looks like - Jonny giving a tactical "masterclass" using empty pint glasses and chicken wings.
2200 - I decline to join the game of Jenga because it is cultural appropriation of the worst kind. And anyway, it’s pronounced “Henga”.
2300 - Things haven gotten too sedate for my taste. I put my bath whiskey in their pints. They are very grateful, especially Rubber, who by all accounts has ended up in a long distance relationship by accident and needs a distraction.
2330 - Bridge Club in Oxford. We are in the VIP area. I sip Prosecco in Oxford’s premier nightspot without a hint of irony.
2345 - Cafe Patron shots.
2350 - Sleep
0050 - Wake up. More shots. Rubber has disappeared. Macca has accosted the club photographer. Jonny now demonstrating his idea for the press to Hans, using shot glasses and condoms.
0130 - Leave club.
0131 - Begin 45 minute diatribe over WhatsApp.
0215 - Arrive back at the hotel.
0216 - Find an apple. Result.
0218 - The door to Alex and Doddsy’s room appears to be open. I intend to have a frank discussion with them about the creeping privatisation of the NHS by rugby tackling Doddsy off his bed.
0223 - I appear to be pinned between the beds with Doddsy force-feeding me my own apple. Nye Bevan did not die for this.
0237 - Bedtime after Dodds graciously releases me. I ignore his assertion that it was a Labour government who started the privatisation process, as I don’t consider Tony “B-liar” to be a real Labour Prime Minister.
0930 - Breakfast. It is £47, but did come with a free hotel room. However, no-one told me that room came with a Chris Reid in it. I don’t know how many times I can say “I don’t know or care who Steve Smith is” but he won’t stop talking about Cricket. Or saying “c*nt”.
1100 - Zaks recount the events of the night before. Except Rubber, who apparently has no idea we even went out. The new (old) relationship has hit the boy hard. Next time we must bring Liam to supervise.
1200 - Meet Hanna and her boring friends for lunch. Terrible. Beats another Jonny Witt tactics session though.
In light of the fact that I don't remember much of the game on Saturday, and the fact that the Zaks have had statistically their best ever half season, I've instead tried to provide a wrap-up of the season so far, in a Christmas format. Suffice to say that the big story of the half-season revolves around a German with a fondness for retro tracksuits, and Macca's sister. Many thanks to Smudge for stepping in and ensuring I had a quiet afternoon this week.
On the first day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, a win against THD
On the second day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, two PHDs and a win against THD
On the third day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me Three Score Draws, two PHDs and a win against THD
On the fourth day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, Four Durham Grads, Three Score Draws, two PHDs and a win against THD
On the fifth day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, WE BEAT THE 3s, Four Durham Grads, Three Score Draws, two PHDs and a win against THD
On the sixth day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, Six Matches won, WE BEAT THE 3s, Four Durham Grads, Three Score Draws, two PHDs and a win against THD
On the seventh day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, Seven new Zaks members, Six Matches won, WE BEAT THE 3s, Four Durham Grads, Three Score Draws, two PHDs and a win against THD
On the eighth day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, Eight Nationalities, Seven new Zaks members, Six Matches won, WE BEAT THE 3s, Four Durham Grads, Three Score Draws, two PHDs and a win against THD
On the ninth day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, Nine fluffed short corners, Eight Nationalities, Seven new Zaks members, Six Matches won, WE BEAT THE 3s, Four Durham Grads, Three Score Draws, two PHDs and a win against THD
On the tenth day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, Ten Random Ringers, Nine fluffed short corners, Eight Nationalities, Seven new Zaks members, Six Matches won, WE BEAT THE 3s, Four Durham Grads, Three Score Draws, two PHDs and a win against THD
On the eleventh day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, Eleven rants from Doddsy, Ten Random Ringers, Nine fluffed short corners, Eight Nationalities, Seven new Zaks members, Six Matches won, WE BEAT THE 3s, Four Durham Grads, Three Score Draws, two PHDs and a win against THD
On the twelfth day of Christmas the Zak Hond sent to me, Twelve retro tracksuits, Eleven rants from Doddsy, Ten Random Ringers, Nine fluffed short corners, Eight Nationalities, Seven new Zaks members, Six Matches won, WE BEAT THE 3s, Four Durham Grads, Three Score Draws, two PHDs and a win against THD