A Classic Cup Final

Perhaps an unfortunate turn of phrase for the Bristol Churches shield final, but it was one hell of a game.



Our opponents Rock Crusaders hit the post early on with a miss-hit cross. It was quite a let off as we've conceded far too many goals already this season from miss-hit crosses. Our keeper was left flailing...





After the early scare we were holding our own against the higher division team, and James Taylor soon put us infront after Nick had miscued a shot across the 6-yard box. 1-0.



We held onto the lead for about three minutes when they scored direct from a 40-yard free-kick, after everyone including our keeper had missed the ball on it's way through the penalty area. 1-1.





Shortly before half time, the ref (who apparently looks just like Mike Roberts' Dad) made Pete take his wedding ring off...



At half time the score was 1-1, and chances had been few and far between. Ten minutes into the second half we regained the lead when their keeper parried Neil Watkins' long shot onto his own post. The ball bounced across the goal line and yours truly was in the right place to head it into the net from about eight inches. 2-1.

Here I am getting mobbed by James. As you can see, the crowd was going mental...



This time we held onto the lead for about five minutes, which was a slight improvement on the first. 2-2.

It was pretty demoralising to concede the lead so soon yet again, but we were definitely still in the game.



Sure enough, our top scorer James popped up yet again with a peach of a goal. 3-2.

Having gone ahead for the third time with twenty minutes left, we were determined to hold onto the lead this time.





We battled harder than ever before, and even hit the post and forced some good saves from their keeper to prevent us taking a 4-2 lead. However, in the last minute they equalised with a pile driver that flew into the top corner from 25 yards. It was the only way they were going to score, and we were gutted (not least because it meant playing for another half an hour, and we were exhausted). 3-3.



We all dug deep and amazingly we took the lead yet again five minutes into extra time when Chew headed in a corner (via a wicked deflection from their number 6, but we'll let Chew claim it)...



4-3!

Surely the game was ours now. After taking the lead for the fourth time, we walked slowly back for the restart and all reminded each other to concentrate and keep it tight for the rest of the game.

They equalised within 20 seconds of the kick-off, with a killer of a goal that trickled under our keeper's flop. 4-4.

At half time of extra-time we looked shattered. I for one felt like I had hit what runners refer to as 'the wall', and my legs felt like jelly. If we could keep it tight for 15 minutes we fancied our chances of winning on penalties.

A few minutes into the second half we went behind for the first time in the game with a deflected long shot. 4-5.

Gutted. But we kept battling and very nearly got the equaliser once or twice, until we were hit on the break in the final minute and ended up losing the game 4-6.

So, my first ever final ended in defeat, but at least Chew and myself got onto the scoresheet. Here we are displaying our 'shield finalist' medals with pride...



Finally, after going down so well last time, it's the return of 'Spot the Ball'...



What do you reckon?

BCFA Shield Final

By some miracle, or perhaps divine intervention, Hope FC have made it through to the final of the Bristol Churches F.A. Shield Final. This prestigious event will take place at Little Stoke Park, this Saturday morning. We're expecting a moderate crowd.

I should explain at this point that the BCFA Shield is a bit like the EUFA cup, in that it's competed by teams who got knocked out of a bigger competition (in this case the BCFA Cup) in the first round. I'm sure there are some other similarities too, but none come to mind right now.

Preparation for the final has been abysmal. Firstly we drove all the way to Radstock last Tuesday night to lose 6-1 to a bunch of whipper snappers, who clearly weren't old enough to drink. Saturday's game was cancelled as we only had 9 players available, which did at least mean I could get hammered at Breakout on Friday night. Finally, earlier this-evening we made the trek to Bath Uni to lose 3-2 in the rain to one of the two teams who are actually below us in the BCFA second division.

Neil's favoured number 10 shirt had been claimed so he donned Jonny's prized number 2 kit. At the end of the demoralising game he suggested that we all chip in to fly Jonny and Mike over for Saturday's final. Much as we could do with the help of the man with no fear (nutter), who sticks his head where others wouldn't stick their feet (and ended up with a fractured skull); and the workhorse, the engine, the midfield general (the list goes on), we're gonna have to win it for them instead.

The route to the final has been completely blagged. Firstly we lost 3-0 to Pip'n'Jay Church in the 1st round of the BCFA cup, which won us qualification to the shield. Then, in the first round proper we were drawn against the worst team in the two BCFA divisions, who turned up with ten men including their long retired manager. We stuffed them 10-1.

We then received a bye through the quarterfinal when our bitter rivals Santos couldn't get a team together. So, after one victory (and one defeat) we found ourselves in the semi-final against one of the top first division teams, who we miraculously beat 5-4 on penalties after perhaps the luckiest 120 minutes of football I have ever witnessed. Our keeper, who is known for his howlers (and was largely responsible for all three goals that we conceded tonight), was man of the match, and I remember him saving at least a couple with his arse.

So anyway, we made it. This will be my first final, in fact my first chance of winning anything, ever... Do come!

Random weather blog

H recently mocked me for discussing the weather. Apparently I sounded "so English" when I used the expression "last cold snap of the winter". My addition that the UK had just experienced the warmest winter since records began was greeted with yet more mockery.

According to H this is also a very "English" thing to say. It's not that other countries don't discuss the weather, she explained, but just that us Brits are always banging on about it being the warmest/wettest/coldest something since records began.

Anyway, really this blog is just an excuse to post some pretty pictures. I had intended to make a time-lapse video of the following scene, but it soon became apparent I needed a fixed camera. Shame, because as you can see from the first and last shot, a time-lapse vid might have looked pretty cool...

I also spent time playing with my new camera settings to get some decent shots of the bluebells in our back garden...



Perhaps even more sad than this, I then waited patiently to try and get a shot of a wasp feeding, but that proved to be pretty tricky...

If only this one had focussed properly...

It's also the time of year for Jonny's favourite species to emerge...



Anyway, back to the weather. Chew's barber informed him on Saturday that it was 26c. I'm pretty confident that must be the warmest April 14th in the south of Bristol since records began.

Clifton Suspension Bridge

H once asked me to take some photos of the Clifton Suspension Bridge so she could put one up in her flat. I finally got round to it last Sunday when I went to meet Bevan, Rosie & Josh.









Climbers under the bridge...



See?





I think this is probably the choice pic, it's just a shame the tide was out...







The other side of the gorge...





Take your pick H!

It's the best I could do without going out at dawn, which clearly isn't going to happen.

Foolishly we then had the same idea as everyone else in Clifton on the first warmish Sunday of the year, and spent 20 minutes trying to get served at the Avon Gorge Hotel. Josh is looking especially cute at the moment...