Vs coconut soldiers
8-3
CB 1, TH 1, TW 1, TK, DC, GF
AW (post match)

What we have doneth is that we have inverted our shizzle in a temporal sense and now instead of playing well in the first half and then petering out like a Circuitt in the second half, we is now petering like a Circuitt in the first half before we have e’en beguneth. And by Gwyneth ’tis not working for us. And ’tis making us loseth.

On a positive note, our second half is solid. Or unsullied you might say. As strong as one thousand unsullied. As hitherto mentioned in a prior report by this selfsame writer, whence that writer did freely availeth himself of the Eco-bulb metaphor (pronounced met-a-fuh), the game of nannas is a gradual one and one that takes some time to reach its zenith.

“So what did happeneth in this particular game of nannas” I hear you cry, sounding not unlike Joffrey when he did yelleth “I am not tired” in the season finale of a certain unmentionable television series.

Well, I shall telleth it and it wenteth thus. Many goals were struck. Nine goals in the first half. That’s one goal every two minutes. Seven for the soldiers and two for us. Our first goal was a corker from old ironborn T-Ho. He came thundering in toward the corner ball from C-Bro, and then smashed it beyond doubt into the back of the net with maximum velocity. It was not dissimilar to the first goal in the Socceroos’ match vs Jordan by Bresciano.

Later, T-Wi executed an unforgettable piece of offensiveness in scoring another goal. No mind could have forgotten the circumstances of this outstanding play. No normal human mind. But then the Nannas posesseth minds of such thoroughbred efficiency and raw singleminded power and silky self excising purity that even the details of this memorable moment slipped straight through the collective consciousness like so many olestra fried potatoes through the collective colon.

Then it was half time and we got a bit roused up and we went back on and unlike the writing of this report (which is now tapering to its slim end), we got our turgid thickness on, fought back with all our beef and tied the final 18 minutes 1 fucking all. Resulting in an 8-3 loss.

C-Bro put a long ball in for a goal that caressed a man’s gut on the way in to the net. T-Ko was excellent in goals and took many a fulsome hit. D-Cro played well but sulked a bit at half-time. G-Fra had some moves but looked a little sleepy.

Afterwards we took it to the Northcote Social Club for some burgers eh! A-Wah joined us for the post match. Nuff said.