Vs C Palace

Hammerschat were out in force. Charlie, Geo and myself were going  media mental at the West Ham Ladies vs Crystal Palace Ladies game. The West Ham Ladies had got another bite at the Cup cherry after narrowly being beat 5-0 by Spurs earlier in the week. The Ladies hadn’t had a game all year before the Cheshunt Tragedy and were clearly ring rusty, but now it was a chance for redemption against Crystal Palace Ladies at Bromley FC. CPL hadn’t lost match since we tonked them at the beginning of the season, but since then both teams have had massive personnel changes (that doesn’t mean we got rid of all our tall players) so that stat really shouldn't have any bearing on the game.  Geo and Charlie were going to be conducting interviews, and I was going to practice my photography, hoping to get a lucky shot or two, and simultaneously try to remember what happened so that I could write this blog. We were The Three Amigos, The Three Musketeers, Tom Dick and Harry, Charlie’s Angels, Snap Crackle and Pop or …….. nearer the truth…. The Three Stooges. Plan A. Set up the (borrowed)  video camera a location where we could interview someone/anyone to test the sound/visual levels of our equipment. Charlie identified a corner of the ground, near the pitch where we could pressgang an unsuspecting victim into answering some banal questions in the interests of science. For some reason he managed to set the camera/ tripod up next to some dog/fox poo. ‘Oh’ said Charlie when I’d pointed out his faux pas. I left them to their preparations and snapped away at the Ladies being put through their paces by Marc (manager) and some of his oppos, one of which was a Man U fan that I’d enjoyed some good banter/insults with earlier. I’m still getting to grips with all of the Ladies names. I tend to focus on the forwards because I’m hoping to snap goals…… but today I was concentrating on the defenders.

     The girls were now doing a stretching exercise which involved putting one leg up on the perimeter fence the way a ballerina would use a barre, only a bit more ungainly. And in boots. It looked quite painful, (note to self never attempt it. Ever). After that there was a casual kick-a-bout session, Shevvy practicing breaking the net with her pile drivers, Danni showing off her tekkers and Whitney trying to hit a cow’s backside with a banjo. She was due a goal soon. Surely. 

The camera was ready. The microphone? Well I’m not sure what the microphone was. It looked like something Ken Dodd would buy in Victoria’s Secrets. Or a rat. It was black and fluffy anyway. Geo was hanging. He’d taken in the West Ham Man City match the day before. He’d also taken in copious amounts of lager punctuated with shots and was feeling kind of fragile. He beckoned Tim Hunt, one of the trainers, to try out our set up, a dry run of sorts. ‘Can we interview you Tim?’ Geo win    asked in a ‘can’t be bothered’ tone. Tim grinned. ‘No,’ he replied. The shortest interview ever. ‘Oh go oon,’ Geo half-heartedly implored in his Aberdonian lilt. ‘I prefer to be known as the silent assassin…a man of mystery,’ Tim explained. We contemplated conducting the interview in mime form, but the site of three blokes playing charades wasn’t really good box office. ‘Danni!’ I got her attention and she dribbled over to us. ‘Can we interview you for practice Danni?’ Geo huffed. ‘Whateversmate… hurry up though, ‘ain’t got all day,’ she said with a tinge of impatience. ‘Howoo bout ya show’s yoo tekkers while you speak?’ Geo was pushing it. ‘It’s not BGT Geo,’ I said, whilst Danni continued with her keepy uppies. ‘ Here show us your tekkers,’ Danni said to me (slightly mocking if the truth be known) and lobbed the ball at me. I hadn’t kick a ball in anger for about thirty years. My first touch surprisingly wasn’t too bad. I cushioned the ball on my instep and it bounced neatly up about head height. My second touch however was not so good and I toe punted the ball directly at the camera, and only the Yashin-like reflexes of Charlie saved the day. Despite my poor showing on the footy front Geo still suggested that I might like to make a cameo appearance at a charity match. I’d have a go at singing ‘Word up’ …. But playing football? Moi? Really?
We were finally ready to roll……. But Danni was gone. We had been faffing about too long and now we had lost another interviewee/victim. ‘We’ll have to do it ourselves,’ Geo bemoaned still regretting the last few pints that he had drank the day previous. Now, I had no intention/inclination/ambition of being in front of the camera, my Brad Pitt days were well and truly over (actually they’d never begun) but here I was, being thrust into the media spotlight. Surely there must be better things to film than my ugly mug. Surely.
Geo and I managed to make banal comments for about two minutes and we were done. ‘Was that it?’ I thought. ‘Easy peasy.’
Geo suggested that we could go to the club house and say hello to a few people. Charlie packed all the equipment away unaided (our choice not his) and we traipsed our way to say hello to Natalie Strange and Katie Bottom’s mum in the bar. After what seemed like a matter of seconds I looked through the window to see the teams shaking hands. I ran. By the time I’d got to the pitch they were already having a team photograph taken by a guy smoking a big cigar, and by the time I’d got my camera out of it’s bag the photo opportunity had gone. Damn. I was  close but no cigar. I did manage to get a picture of them forming a huddle though. They were in it for ages. What the hell do they talk about?
The match
The first major incident of the match was when Hannah Wheeler made a train crash tackle on a CPL in the box. It was more MMA than WFA

and deservedly got punished by the awarding  of a spot kick to CPL. The penalty was clinically dispatched, Lauren getting her fifty fifty question wrong.  1-0. The worse thing about conceding the goal was not the fact that we were losing, it was having to listen to ‘Chelsea Dagger’ blaring from the tannoy system. That tune alone could inspire the opposition to tighten up their defence. I wondered if they played Chopin’s Funeral March if they conceded a goal. Now that would be funny
 The match was evenly balanced and any thoughts of another capitulation were far from the WHL minds. CPL didn’t seem to be paying enough respect to the three pronged danger of Shevv, Romina and Whitney  (backed up by full debutante Cindy Ferreira so it was four pronged really if I’m being truthful but it doesn’t sound as good), and gradually they began to find holes in the CPL defence.  Just after Romina hitting the side netting, she was put through by Shevvy and dinked the ball over the keeper. 1-1. The tannoy was silent. No ‘Turn Back Time’ no ‘Let ‘em in’ no ‘Oops upside and on me ‘ead.’ Just silence.  Minutes later CPL refused to learn their lesson and whilst trying to dribble out of defence a CPL defender was caught in possession by Shevvy, who then threaded the ball through to Whitney …… and…… wait for it…….. she scored! I bet her Dad’s face was a picture. All of the moaning and shouting had paid off, although later on I was discover that he was banned from shouting instructions. He had an endless supply of lollipops to help him to keep schtum. Maybe we could get Chupa Chups to sponsor us. The rest of the half was to and fro, CPL scoring an offside goal (they don’t count phew) and WHL threatened on the break. HT 1-2.
Geo bought himself a chocolate bar and moaned for the duration of half time that it cost a pooned. I chatted with the official photographer about lenses. He said he was Crystal Palace’s men’s photographer as well and takes roughly 1200 photos a match, that’s one photo every 4.5 seconds. I find that very hard to believe. Maybe he was bigging himself up. We had the camera set up in a better location for the post match interviews, just in front of the family enclosure and away from any dog poo. Geo (still hanging) said ’Ya noo, I’m strooggling to think of a question to ask.’ I’ve always thought that post match interviews can be so cliche and said that I wanted to talk about eye make-up. Maybe I was strooggling as well.
The Second Half
The second half was a battle. We defended deep and in numbers. It wasn’t quite the Alamo, but CPL threw everything at us with no reward. In fact WHL looked more likely to scored when they occasionally broke. Lauren Picton’s handling was super safe. The WHL defence was outstanding. Olivia Sammons work rate and determination was relentless, a real powerhouse. Gemma Adebla made everything look easy and was always calm in possession. Hannah Wheeler was a tower of strength and unflappable. Rosie Missen worked her socks off (not literally) and Danni Ritson probably irritated the life out of their forwards by calling them all ‘mate.’ The shy and retiring (not literally) Katie Bottom played the captain’s role impeccably, and also cleared the ball off the line for what would have been a certain goal. Cindy Ferreira covered every inch of the pitch (not literally) and was unlucky not to earn a penatly when she went down like a sack of pommes de terre in the box. Romina Pinna showed her quality and held the ball up well. Shevvy has great touch and doesn’t realise how good she is. Whitney has a great engine (not literally)and has really bloomed in this new incarnation of the team. The three subs Chelsea, Erica and Giulia replaced the tired legs, and frustrated the Eagles to the bitter end.
We’d won. The girls celebrated as if they had actually won the cup and you couldn’t blame them after their disappointment in the week. I tentatively climbed over the fence and snapped their happy faces (not literally) and felt part of the celebrations. Geo and I interviewed the girls afterwards, I got my eye make-up question in, Katie was very humble about her goal line clearance and Whitney banged on about her goal…. and rightly so. I asked Hannah what the worst thing she had been called by another player, but she said she didn’t want to swear on camera. From the clues Danni gave I’m pretty sure what it was ( not very nice ha ha). The final interview was with Marc. He asked who I was on twitter and when I revealed that I was avithammer he looked really pleased to see me. I went for the handshake and he went for the hug. The hug it was.
It was that kind of day.