Rome wasn’t built in a day (especially if you take into consideration the time it takes to get planning permission).
One swallow doesn’t make a summer.
With time the mulberry leaf becomes satin… with time and patience the mulberry leaf becomes a satin gown.
A wise horse never eats the grass behind him.
West ham Ladies can take heart and comfort from all of these adages (maybe not the last one, at first I thought it meant keep going forward don’t look back, but now I’m leaning towards don’t eat where you’ve just taken a dump). It could have been oh so different if only we’d have had (grammar alert) a Russian linesman, we would be now marching into the next round. Instead, 'Spuds-U-Don’t like' are set to carry on whinging into the next round. I haven't seen such petulance since that little girl in ‘Willy Wonka’ who wanted her dad to buy her everything.
Sour grapes? Who me? Maybe.
The day had started so well as well. I’d been told that my media duties re the West Ham Ladies were becoming more official ( I was now the unofficial official reporter for Hammerschat instead of the official unofficial reporter….. if that makes sense. Or was it the other way around? hmmmm) and I was still the official crap photographer, mainly because no-one else turns up with a camera. ISO’s are still a bit of a mystery, even though the theory of them has been explained to me on numerous occasions. I needed a new lens. A sports lens. After doing some research, I discovered that ‘sports’ lenses were also ideal for taking pictures of birds (70s joke alert) so it was a win win situation, They were also a f-f-f-f-f-fousand pounds. Maybe I’ll stick to my cheapo one for now.
I was also basking in the glory of being the co-presenter for Hammerschat’s ‘Talk a Good Game.’ When I say ‘glory’ I really mean ‘thank god I didn’t cock it up too much.’ The footage came out Thursday and apart from looking twenty years older than I thought I looked (I must get a new mirror) and looking five stone heavier than I thought I was… it wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t too good either. Apologies to Cindy for saying that she looked ‘tasty’ in her videos. Luckily when Marc Nurse said in his interview that he had contacts in South America, I didn’t blurt out ‘So we could be seeing some Brazilians in the team soon then?’
I'd also been privy to a top top secret. I was sworn to secrecy. My lips were sealed. Apparently I was one of only four people who knew. I’m not very good at keeping secrets if the truth be known.
“I’m with Hammerschat,’ I announced confidently, camera bag slung over shoulder, wearing a pair of old boots to stand in the pitch side mud. I was gradually working my way through the ranks (in my imagination) and it was now my turn to be a proper press photographer. Even though I’d got to the ground an hour before the match was due to start, the girls were already on the pitch warming up. Hannah Wheeler made her way over to me and gave me a high five. That one gesture made me feel one step closer to be being accepted as part of the gang. Natalie Strange came over and helped me identify the player who’s name I didn’t know (yes…I’d got it down to one). It was Kelsey with whom I’d confused with Chelsea (easy mistake). It took her about five minutes to convince me that Kelsey and Chelsea were two different people, due to either her accent or (and most likely) my hearing. Tim Hunt came over and I congratulated him on his new job title (sorry..I’ve forgotten what it was now. It sounded important though (cough)). Marc and I settled for a handshake instead of a hug this time in case we set tongues wagging and even Olivia Sammons, who now had realised I wasn’t a stalker, came over and shook my hand.
It was at that moment that I felt a pang of disappointment. Nothing to do with Olivia’s handshake. No. Out of the corner of my eye I’d spotted a guy dressed from head to just about below his waist in red, a kind of Father Christmas who’d put the wrong trousers on (grey). I had always been fearful of that combo ever since I’d seen the movie ‘Don’t Look Now,’ but the thing that worried me most was the great big sports lens attached to his camera. Damn. I was almost ashamed to get my camera out now. Damn. I needn’t have worried. Nick Hayes turned out to be a top gent. I told him that I was suffering from a bout of lens envy, but he did his best to re-assure me by saying that because I was an amateur it was only to be expected that I had crap equipment.
Well it was kind of re-assuring ….I think.
‘You must get some great pictures with that.’ I said, stating the bleeding obvious. It was then he pointed in the direction of the dugout (are they still called dugouts? They’re not dug out anymore, they’re more like bus shelters) and said ‘I get better pictures with that!’ It looked like a cannon. A Canon cannon. It was massive. It was a lens and it was massive. It was bigger than my car (ok slight exaggeration). Nick then proceeded to give me a crash course in camera settings. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I was chronically sophophobic and that his words were already making their way out of my other ear. Nick also had something else I didn’t. A chair. Well it wasn’t a proper chair but the large equipment case which doubled as a seat. I couldn’t very well sit on my camera bag, it was small, soft and would squash under my weight.
I had earlier actually contemplated bringing a chair of some sort, but all I had to choose from indoors was a settee (too heavy) a kitchen stool (too high) an office chair (the wheels would get stuck in the mud) or a dressing table stool (which would’ve looked absolutely ridiculous). Kneeling or sitting cross legged (which I hadn't done since I was at school and if I had’ve managed to get into that position I would have needed assistance to get out of it) were not an option.
So I stood. Not ideal, but on the positive side, if the ball came flying towards me I would have a better chance of getting out of the way.
Nick and I positioned ourselves at the appropriately named (by me, just now) East End of the ground either side of the goal, him with his bazooka and me with my pea shooter (I’m still talking about cameras btw) ready for action.
The Match
The team was the same as last week’s apart from Erika Campesi coming in for Shev, who hopefully wasn’t on a tour of 'cake shops.'
It was a nervous start by WHL, maybe still thinking about the 0-5 drubbing they received 10 days previous, and a mere 5 minutes were on the clock when THL took the lead. Avilla Bergin tapped in an easy deja vu goal. This was becoming a habit, letting in early goals. Bergin spent the rest of the game spitting her dummy out when the ball didn’t get through to her or things didn’t go her way. Gradually WHL got a hold on the game and won a free kick just outside the THL area. Pinna stepped up to take the kick. The THL wall had a blonde moment and disintegrated at the sight of Romini’s curled effort. Wayne the goalie could only watch as the ball found it’s way into the bottom corner of the net. WHL defence was holding strong with a few pitch battles going on, and they had the best chance to go ahead when Locke narrowly missed from a tight angle.
Half time at the burger van, and I’d managed to find myself behind a man in the queue who was buying four lots of burger and chips. I only wanted a coffee. 'It won’t take long’ I thought/hoped………. until I noticed that the chip basket looked like it was only capable of frying one chip at a time……
I spotted Marc’s missus in the crowd (?) I thought I would casually introduce myself, gain her confidence with a view to getting some inside information.
‘ Hi, I’m Avit. Pleased to meet you,’ I smoothly opened with. ‘I suppose you want some inside information ,’ she said smiling, exposing my transparency immediately. The charade was over before it had begun and Keeley was only too willing to provide me with some common knowledge info. This reporting malarkey was proving to be even more cloak and dagger than I’d first thought
The second half was basically two really committed teams cancelling each other out. THL scored an offside goal (they still don’t count phew) and whinged about the decision…... for a change. My personal highlight (if you’ll pardon the pun) was when the setting sun provided a spectacular backdrop for Danni Ritson’s hair. She looked like one of those girls in those 70s shampoo adverts, all soft filters and glow. I’m pretty sure I was the only one in a position to take that shot. I felt like I’d scored. I nearly managed to take another corker. Wheeler was chasing the ball down towards me and I snapped away until she nearly crashed into me. A sort of big game hunter photo. The end result was a crystal clear photo apart from her face which looked like I had blurred it intentionally to protect her identity.
And so to extra time. And penalties. If we’d had goal line technology at our disposal there wouldn't have been any need for penalties. It was obvious to everybody in the ground except the officials that the ferocious drive by Campesi had crossed the line after crashing down off the crossbar. It wasn’t to be. With the end of extra time approaching Sammons’ strong tackle which seemed to KO one of the THL and caused a bit of a kerfuffle/handbags (or should I say man bags?)
And so to penalties.
The referee kindly granted our request to have the penalties up the end we were sitting so that we didn’t have to lug all of our equipment (well Nick’s) up the other end. Hats off and respect to both teams, the takers were nerveless and pinpoint accurate with their kicks. After the first two THL penalties went straight down the middle, I suggested to Lauren that she should stand still for the next one. ’ Trouble is if I don’t dive I look a bigger mug,’ she philosophically countered, and to be fair she did have a point. I wasn’t sure that I should be having that conversation with her anyway, especially in front of the lino….. I could’ve been booked.
I feared the worst when WHL Rosie Missen stepped up and I was already writing the headline (Row Z Missing) but she finished with aplomb. In fact they all finished with aplomb except Ritson, who finished with a plum. Her penalty was well placed but Wayne guessed correctly and the penalty shoot out gods decided that that was that. Ritson distraught and inconsolable didn’t need to worry. The team needs gutsy players like her.
Lauren Picton No chance with goal or penalties
Danni Ritson Played a blinder (and nice hair)
Katie Bottom Cool and calm in possession ( I said hello to her mum)
Hannah Wheeler Strong and mobile (sorry I didn’t stop that ball you had to run after
Olivia Sammons Hard as nails, tackles like Tommy Smith (I said hello to her mum as well)
Gemma Abela Broke up play in midfield good distribution
Cindy Ferreira Very skillful defended as well as attacked
Rosie Missen No nonsense all action display
Erika Campesi Unlucky with ‘phantom’ goal well played
Romini Pinna Superb strike and all round classy display
Whitney Locke Unlucky not to score didn’t stop running
PS The secret turned out to be the worst kept secret in the entire history of secrets…….
…..and don’t look at me!
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