I don’t think we are going to be welcomed back to Eltham anytime soon, as myself and the shower crew headed to North Eltham reserve to see the maidens take on the Redbacks. We rocked up 10 minutes late as Cowan decided that since we were picking him up at 5 o’clock, 5:15 was a good time to shower. 40 minutes later and loaded up on Canadian Club we embarked on our road trip. There’s little in the way of highlights from the journey, apart from Michael Leech’s insistence that his life’s ambition is to go to Dragons Den with a Prototype Nacho hat for men’s genitals. I’ve no idea how the conversation arrived at that point, but I’m sure as fuck glad we got off that topic before he gave us his idea for Burritos.

We arrived to the maidens trailing 1-0 and quite frankly floundering. To their credit, Eltham were quick, with one of their wingers recreating the T-1000’s running style from Terminator 2, although Robert Patrick was definitely winning in the looks department. To be honest the first half was probably some of the worst football the girls have played all season, and I’m including the Jewish Hogwarts debacle. However it’s hard to know for sure, when we were perpetually interrupted from watching the game by toothless hill folk who wouldn’t stop bitching about our smoking, even though we were 5 metres from the pitch, in the open and next to trees. Nothing some casual littering wouldn’t fix however. Few chances were fashioned in the first half, well for the girls at least. Some outstanding saves by Casey Wheat in the Maidens goal kept them within touching distance, 1-0 at the break.

We used the break to refuel on CC & Dry and use the crack den like bathroom facilities we were directed towards. Given that they had 3 training pitches and a training equipment that would put Manchester City to shame, I’m willing to wager that they had marble bathrooms with gold tap fittings that we just weren’t allowed to access. Not bad for hill people I guess.

The second half wasn’t much better, and after a few heart in mouth moments the game settled in a rather uninteresting midfield battle. Jess Riley was taken down outside the box at the 60 minute mark and the Marshall, much to the Boronia supporters ire, proclaimed that she had dived. Not his smartest move as he spent the next 15 minutes of the match getting berated for wearing a purse to a football game. He didn’t even see out the match…pussy. So with 10 minutes to go and about as much hope as a child in a hospital ward in Leeds in 1975 had of getting out unmolested, Megan Cazaly picked up the ball deep in the attacking half and sped toward the goal, finishing calmly past the keepers out stretched hand. 1-1 and all of a sudden Eltham blinked, Jess Riley was taken down again and her resulting free kick was tipped around the post for a corner. With the last kick of the game, Jess powered the corner in and Tanielle Djohan sent a powerful header into the roof of the net. We went predictably mental, and funnily enough Johnny man purse was no where to be seen. So the maidens won 2-1 and with Whitehorse dropping points, a win or draw against Melbourne University on Sunday will see them claim the title.

Not gonna lie, reliving the reserves cup match isn’t a prospect I am looking forward to, so let’s put it off briefly. The thirds and vets were both unfortunate to leave the cup at the quarterfinal stages going to down 1-0 and 4-3 to Croydon and Langwarrin respectively. Although the vets may have been out earlier than that, I can never keep track of the crayon drawings the Bayside League pass off as league structure and fixtures.

So onto the match I watched. After beating Frankston City and well frankly just about everyone else in the league by margins of 7 goals earlier in the season, the reserves had cause to be optimistic about the game. Unfortunately, as happens when you spend the bulk of the season pissing in results, complacency can set in

It started well, with Michael Seeley carving through the Frankston backline and firing a superb left foot shot into the back of the net to give the shower crew an early 1-0 lead. Unlike last time the teams met and well every other fucking team in this Mickey Mouse competition, Frankston galvanised instead of wilting and within 4 minutes they had drawn level. This was where the complacency set in, and rather than take advantage of the multiple opportunities created, they were wasted like Lindsay Lohan at an open bar.

The second half started better, but Frankston were resolute in defence and Boronia were struggling to break them down. Disaster struck in the 65th minute as Frankston capitalised on a stray pass to lash a shot into the top right corner of the Boronia goal. 2-1 and the stark reality of a knockout competition dawned on the players. Taking control of the game the reserves pushed Frankston to the wall, and in the last minute of regulation time Matt Toomer-Smith poked the ball over the line to give me a fucking heart attack and take the game to extra time.

Extra time can go do one as far as I’m concerned, it’s a piece of shit idea. Frankston scored almost immediately and it was clearly going to be one of those days. I’ll spare the details because my motivation levels are low, but we had the better of it in extra time, and much like with regulation time, we really should have put the game to bed. The referee didn’t help, deciding that playing advantage was a crime in the same realms of being Jarred from subway, so he just avoided it. The stop start nature of McGuff the whistle twat didn’t help the shower crew build momentum, but testament to their character, they kept pushing and with the last kick of the game scored a penalty to take the game to… Penalties.

They lost on penalties, 6-7. It’s a horrible way to lose and I’m not going into the particulars because at the end of the day, a penalty shootouts makes heroes and villains and unfairly so. The game should’ve been pushing daisies by the time it got to penalties, and that is the fault of the team as a whole, not the individuals who didn’t convert.

So onto the first team and an interview with the man himself, Brian “Shoulders” Roper.

Frank: Hey Tristan, can I interview you for the report? Roper was supposed to do it but he was sorting out the Greek Financial Crisis or something

Tristan: For fucksakes Frank! Get your shit together it’s Thursday. Aren’t you supposed to get these out on a Tuesday?

F: Well yeah, but I was waiting on Ropers report.

T: Don’t lie to me mate

F: ….walk the line was on Netflix…

T:…

F:…

the blank staring continued for a while

F: Y’know man, it’s gonna take even longer to come out if you don’t help me….

T: Alright fine! So we rocked up to Silcock reserve to find Croydon had already been considering their tactics by putting us on their small pitch, like the edge of the 18 yard box was about 1meter away from the bi line. I think it was to stop us passing the ball around like we do, and to be fair it worked.

F: Surely less ground to cover is a good thing?

T: Mate I’m doing you a favour. Now I just want to start by saying Croydon would have to be the biggest pack of whinging cunts in the league, it was really pathetic, I mean Cooper whinges less!

F: Did you take away their toy Dinosaurs?

T: Anyway we started off early with huddo putting one away in the first 10 minutes then Graham put another one away 5 minutes after, it’s fair to say Croydon’s shoulders were so slumpt they all looked like Quasimodo.

F: That’s probably from the inbreeding

T: *stares at me coldly

F: Sorry go on

T: The game was scrappy as fuck, and we were giving away free kicks left right and centre, we gave away one on the edge of the box, they crossed the ball in and whilst one of the Croydon players held Macca’s arm down, another player volleyed it in the back of the net. 2-1 at half time, and the referee (the one who played for Rosebud or Seaford, can’t remember his name, but fuck me he’s a cock smoker) told Macca it wasn’t a free kick because he should have been stronger.

F: Wouldn’t have happen to Liam, he’s massive and it’s not from steroids…well…he says it’s not steroids… How was the second half?

T: If you’d stop fucking interrupting me I could tell you. Jesus Frank. The second half started and in the first 2 minutes Huddo scored again, 3-1. Jack Witzki came off, and because the smallest guy on the field came off JP no longer had anyone to tackle, so he just became a mouth piece and added to the constant whinging.

F: I thought you liked JP

T: Frank it’s fair to say my hate for JP is equivalent to yours with triangle face. The fuckhead thinks he’s hard as fuck but will only hack the small guys after they get past him or throw elbows behind play.

F: Yet I’m the one you constantly threaten to stab??

T: Yeah mate and you’re going the right way for it. Anyway we were giving away free kicks like no one else, and they managed to get a decent ball in, the flake dog made did an awesome slide and knocked the ball out with his head, yet somehow that fuckwit ref managed to call it a hand ball, yet didn’t send flakey off. Just a total tool bag! So they scored the pen.

F: That’s Bayside for you, so how’d it finish up?

T: It’s all pretty hazy now but Roper was freaking out because he hadn’t scored, so he just did, because Roper scores when he wants. He’s possibly the greatest player ever, that’s what tells everyone anyway. So 4-2 and its always good to beat those whinging cockbags.

F: What a man! Cheers for the interview mate

T: This better be out by tonight

F: Oh it will be mate, it will be

Food of the day: On it Burger. I ate by myself because I have no friends

Beer of the day: Stone & Wood. This beer sells itself really.

If you have a positive or negative response or just generally feel like disagreeing, I can be contacted at bscmatchreports@gmail.com