Thursday, September 12, 2013

Match Report: Thirds Vs Old Melburnians

Sunday 8th September 2013, Central Park Malvern
Central Park 3 - Old Melburnians 2

Central Park are......


Stayin' Alive!




as for good Old Melburnians.....




Things are so much easier to say when you feel your feet touch the bottom....

The stakes were massive in a final round relegation battle, and this match lived very much up to the hype. Plenty of goals, niggle and spice complemented a fiercely fought contest that quickly see-sawed to the dizzying heights Sunday football is famous for before being suddenly plunged to depths as low as the outgoing wooden spooned Boroondara Eagles. Oh yes, nobody wanted to take the ugly duckling to the dance this year..... but sure enough, one of these two sides would be joining the men in purple in Division 3.

What a way to round out a roller coaster season for the boys in blue and white, who'd dug themselves a nice old hole the week prior with a surprise loss.
There was an air of genuine tension buzzing through the change rooms prior to kick off this week, the butterflies very apparent for Petrakos who sent a scare through the Central Park camp revealing he'd left the all important half time oranges in the fridge at home. Old fashioned wisdom was on hand to quell the nerves though, Paul Davies, John Klotz and big Neil Appleton of Masters fame were key inclusions this week and their experience when it mattered was to prove invaluable.

One never knows what an Old Melburnians side is going to throw up - the only guarantee being that they'll definitely by younger, and therefore faster and fitter than us. No surprises then, that Rangers speedster Ian Loh was paired up with one of the away side's more zippy pup's, and wore him like a glove in a solid defensive display. An injured Richard Owen watched from the sideline with his plus one to cheer on this lads, and the intrigue didn't end there. The Master's timely forfeit provided several club stalwarts the afternoon off and a chance to bask in the sun and cheer the Central Park 'stars of tomorrow' to victory.

So it all began, and a cracking pace was set early with both sides frenetic in their attack on the ball. Tom Davies flew out of the blocks quickest, involved in absolutely everything and playing well above his weight with a fearless attack on the ball. Old Melburnians responded in kind with some slick passing and a bloody dangerous midfield who seemed to create the required space despite the hot pace.

Central Park ventured on the attack first, Alex B's slick footwork nearly paying dividends up front for the blue and white. However it was the unsung heroics of Brian, who, adopting the Mark Viduka role, had by far his best outing of the season - moving to space, providing a target, and holding the ball up back to goal before laying off to feet. The likes of Canonball Jones and Tom couldn't have asked for better service and were never too far away from testing the keeper.

The Central Park pressure was relentless, and amid all the attacking flare on show came a goal from an unlikely source as towering Neil Appleton justified his long run up from centreback. Young Tom the orchestrator once again, landing one of his long raking throw-ins on the head of a 20c piece for Neil to head home.

The tempo lifted another notch, and it was this Old Melburnians that put the acid on Central Park. Steve trying his best to keep the shape at the back as the away side's passing game started to see some leaky defense down the Rangers flanks. A couple of close calls were saved only by conceding the odd corner, which Central Park nervously ferreted out of harms way. As quickly as the ball was cleared though, it seemed to be coming back in just as quick.

Room on the edge of the 18 yard box suddenly seemed to be in endless supply, and Old Melburnians had their first direct shot away as a well beaten Tim in goals ducked to the sounds of a bullet ricocheting off the crossbar. The engineers were still inspecting the structural integrity of the posts when another torpedo was fired from long range once again, this time to Tim's right. Ranger's weren't to be so lucky this time, as newly installed DRS technology would prove their undoing - the shot cannoning off the crossbar and down over the line for a Old Melburnian equaliser - meanwhile Frank Lampard could be pictured shaking his head in a dark and seedy Chelsea hovel....



The lads were as rattled as the crossbar, and their defensive set up now had more holes in it than the shitty Stonnington Council nets. Old Melburnians smelt the fear in the air, and went in for the kill. A horrible mix up at the back found space between the Rangers last line of defence and Tim in goals who caledl the stray pass his own. Ten years ago he'd have been caressing the size 5 safely in his bosom.. Not at age 32, as the quicker and a tad more agile (lighter) Old Melburnian pounced, beating Tim to the ball and pushing it pass the No. 1 for the away side's second.

Parity then almost ensued against the run of play for Central Park. Almost i say, and who better to explain the almost part than the man who created all the chaos, Nick 'cannonball' (feathertouch) Jones:

Miss, can only be described as easily the worse miss of my life.

After a jinking run and a neat one two the OM's defence opened up like the parting of the red sea for Jones just to stroll through on goal, with just the keeper to beat and sending him to the deck with a little shimmy shimmy shake, Jones just had the green grass of Central park in front of him. Then came the moment (that if we lost he would never live it down) 4-5 yards out, no pressure, keeper on the deck, the ball didn't bobble, on his right foot, #16 passes it into the back of the net, wait a minute, that's what all 21 players plus the laziest ref in the world thought was about to happen but the big #16 from central park had different ideas, he thought he would spice the game a little and miss the absolute unmissable (and let Stu off the hook for the worst miss of the season) and hits it against the left hand post for the ball to cannon out beyond Alex P's outstretched foot and away for a goal kick. 2 - 1 down still! And all Jones could do was laugh.


Half time couldn't come quick enough for Central Park who all of a sudden were hanging on for dear life, and quite fortunate not to concede 1 or 2 more. In one final act of Thespianism, the away side's lippy, lanky and rather precocious team pest knocked Rod over for the hell of it. This after putting the laces into Tom as he lay on the ground, and a colourful verbal stoush with dad/linesman Paul. As both sides trotted to their respective huddles, the young fella was put on notice by Captain Cresswell.

The halftime talking point involved a rock, paper, scissors play off between the lads for first dibs on lanky No. 7. That, and settling things right down as it was clear a few relegation flavored jitters had crept in.

Off we went, and fresh legs in the form of Paul, Gaz and Stu were welcomed, and needed, as this one was going down to the wire. Steve and Rod swapped positions for the sake of team balance (and sanity!) and the Central Park of old (the winning version) was rolling again.

Petrakos cranked it up a notch and began to beat multiple opponents, and the passes started to really stick. A couple of close offside calls saved both sides, and No. 7 continued to stir the pot and at one stage got in the face of mild mannered Paul. With no shortage of enemies gunning for his head, it was with sheer delight and very much at long odds, that it would be the referee that bring him undone. His gangly post-pubescent frame left him in all sorts, handballing square in front of the ref inside the box. True to form, he squawked and carried on like an unpaid hooker at the ref, even after Steve had buried the spot kick AND dished out some comeuppance just for good measure. "He who laughs last" i tell ya......

(Charades anyone? - I must say, No. 7's illustration of his handball was 'interesting', in the least....)
At 2 all, the Rangers spark was about again and desperation from all to get the job done very much evident. Brian continued his Viduka inspired cameo, matched by Stu who like a right tack in the arse for Old Melburnians made some last ditch spoils to thwart the away sides scoring intent.

It was second and third efforts like this, that paved the way for Ranger's attacking elite to get their chances, and at one stage Canonball's twinkle toed, sweet feet got so carried away, he was passing opponent that weren't even there! Acorn never falls far from the tree though - my spies at the Caxton in Brisbane tell me that in another life the lad could regularly be spotted dancing by himself, 4am most Wednesday nights, brandy lime'n'soda in tow.....




Still wiping yolk off his face from the first half, Canonball had ground to make up for that first half miss, so i'll hand back to him for another wee moment:

As central park pressured for the win to keep out of relegation they steamed down the pitch wave after wave looking for the winner, after some brilliant team play from the back to the front and down the left-hand side of the park, the ball was played into Brian's feet who laid off to Jones, being outside the box is where he feels more at home and after beating his wood be defender Jones pulls the trigger with his left and it rockets into the top left hand corner for what turns out to be the winner and relegation saver.  Move over Maradona 1994 world cup vs Greece. Canonball Jones golden croc winner from last year is back in town (too little too late in the last game of the season and let's not forget that miss in the first half!!!)

Don't know about you, but it's his modesty i like best.....





3 -2 and Central Park suddenly had one foot on dry land, their eagerness obvious and at times blatantly impatient (e.g. Rod asking "how long to go?" 5 minutes into the second half). Enthusiasm then began to morph into rambunctious, clumsy tackles causing themselves all sorts of chaos. Central Park held their collective breath, as several free kicks flew and corners flew over the bar.

Tim in goals suddenly had his goalkeeping counterpart standing next to him for an Old Melburnian corner, and we knew then that OM's were both desperate and running out of time. A last ditch goal mouth scramble kicked up a heap of dirt on a pitch that's had a long year. The dust settled, and the Central Park No. 1 emerged with the ball in one hand, and the keys to safety in the other.

Never a dull day in the life of a Central Park footballer, and in typically Malvern-esque fashion, the lads celebrated with (and i borrowed this from one of our Masters brethren) "afters served", consisting of some beer i can't pronounce and some pro-celiac fruitcake i couldn't eat, courtesy of Rowland's shameless cross promotion.

Now for the fun stuff, October 5 for a merry one - who's in!?

Best: Tom
The Rest: Brian, Stu, Alex B, Petrakos, Nick
Christy Brown: do i need to say it?
























Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Match Report: Thirds Vs Melbourne Uni

Sunday 1st September 2013, Princes Park Carlton
Melbourne Uni 2 - Central Park 1

Future of Melbourne twerk their way to ugly victory



Not even the added incentive of relegation escapism was enough to fire Central Park up enough to produce the goods, as the lads went down 2-1 to Melbourne Uni.

Melbourne are the only side to have knocked off title bound Old Scotch, whilst also being on the end of some absolute hidings this year, so Rangers were up against a classic 'Jekkyl & Hyde' University team. A heartbreaking loss it was then, as Rangers pissed a golden opportunity down the gutters of Rathdowne Street as Melbourne selected one of their more 'no frills' sides this week.

As old Melbourne town welcomed Spring 2013 in a truly glorious manner, someone forgot to tell the wind to stay the f*ck away. Whilst i'm bitching and moaning about what worked against us, the allure of a second half breeze in our favor didn't honor it's promise either, turning swiftly to the benefit of the home side later in the day.

I could go on.... and i will, the pitch at a glance looked as good as the name might and reputation might suggest 'Princes Park Esquire', but in truth the surface was rubbish too. A potato patch for a goal mouth, and undulated divots the moon would be proud of, robbing the lads of their free flowing South American one-touch flare they're renowned for (Seriously who reads this that actually watch us play?).

'A good tradesman....' though, as the weather and the turf were no worse than the lads. Put simply - the boys were well short of their best, and Melbourne Uni thoroughly deserved their win. This, despite Central Park having a healthy stack of their more famous names on deck. As expected, Rangers had the bulk of possession, particularly in the early stages and it looked like a comfortable win in the sun could be penciled in for schizzle.

Jungle George, Charters and Canonball Jones did as they pleased, racking up mountainous amounts of possession as the away side cantered down field. The way things were going, any number of Rangers players could've had an early goal, but in what was to be an all too familiar, and increasingly frustrating pattern, nobody could find a shot in them. Call it gun-shy, 'too many cooks' or excellent Melbourne defense, but nothing, and i mean nothing seemed to bother their keeper.

Rangers, clearly running out of patience upped the tempo and FINALLY Nick latched on to the end of a sweet cross, firing a hole in the Melbourne keeper who did well to push the shot wide.

Despite the wave of Central Park dominance, Melbourne managed to wrestle free and create a couple of chances of their own. A seemingly harmless cross came in which the token Melbourne Uni professor (who always seems to pop up in these fixtures) made a life reducing lunge towards.
No few than three Central Park players cried handball in unison as the daft old cheat tried to disguise his  'paddling' of the ball with his hand, as a header. Fair Play's ambassador Steve Creswell (perfect appointment, really) was on hand, and 'politely articulated' his opinion on the matter and suddenly it looked like it mightn't just be winter that kills old people.....

The moment didn't result in a goal, but if Central Park were mildly vexed at incorrectly conceding a corner over the matter, they were eyeing off a grave beside the professor for the Italian/Iranian/Lebo/Greek/Pakistani referee, after the resultant corner was brilliantly headed home past a hapless Tim in goals. Fleeced!

So i knocked "Maradona hand of god" into Google and this came up! Which along with being bloody hilarious, probably best illustrates the lads feeling towards the aforementioned 'professor'.

In a dull and mostly lifeless match, Rangers struggled to find their mojo, and it was only with ten minutes to play that losing the unloseable seemed like a real possibility. Melbourne really weren't offering much in the way of attack, so it spelt complete disaster - and probably summed up the afternoon - when a harmless Sunday walk/jog down the right resulted in a goal at the near post to the home side. Rowland and Rod looked at each other and then at Tim i guess. Nobody was more surprised though than the goalscorer himself and now buoyant teammates.

2 nil, and heads really did drop. Petrakos entertained all in his battle royale with Carlton's local sook and Flynny decked him just for good measure also. Then finally a breakthrough, as Nick fired in a well taken penalty to keep things interesting, but the intensity was missing when it counted, and that killer instinct absent all afternoon. With this, Central Park's chances faded to the tune of the sun setting over Carlton. The boys now forced to produce a final round fight of their lives at home to stave off relegation. Bitter, bitter stuff.....

And....... Just to make things interesting, it's against Old Melburnians and equation is a simple one:

We win - we stay up, they go down.
They win - they stay up, we go down.

Bring your Sunday best lads!

Best: Nick
The Rest: George, Petrakos, Flynny


Monday, August 26, 2013

Match Report: Thirds Vs Boroondara

Sunday 17th August 2013, Central Park Malvern
Central Park 4 - Boroondara 1

Colours of Boroondara no match for Central Park purple patch.

The title of 'runner up' obviously didn't sit well with Mark 'Hendy' Henderson in the Golden Croc stakes, as the lad set about reminding all who cared to watch and listen just who is "da man" down at Burke Road.
The jet setting bound Scot signed off for the year in style with a tidy home town hat trick against a hapless Boroondara on Sunday.

Central Park didn't have it all their own way though, and a comical and ultimately disastrous screaming match that Jimmy Barnes and Mariah Carey would've been proud of, between Tim and Rowland will no doubt find it's way on the end of season highlights reel.

(Unrelated to football yes, but you're not complaining are you?)

Confidence has soared down Malvern way of late, Central Park unbeaten in the last 2 outings and up against a real 'rocks or diamonds' Boroondara team. Throw in the return of old heads Steve, Rich and of course Hendy, suddenly the side's chances were boosted further.

A fiery and at times spiteful clash with Boroondara early in the year seemed like a world away, as Central Park went about making light work of the away team's lackluster showing.

Avenging a loss was one thing, doing it in style another, Central Park had no fewer than half a dozen shots on goal in the opening 10 minutes with only some solid goalkeeping things at nil all. That in itself was a minor miracle given the firepower Boroondara found themselves up again. Canonball Jones returned from a lengthy layoff to team up with man mountain Ed, whilst will-of-the-wisp (he'll love that) Tom and Tim C buzzed around and were a constant threat.

The onslaught continued, and the pressure became too great as Hendy fired in his first after a sweetly constructed sweeping 'set play' down the right wing.

Somehow, the men in purple went into the break on level terms..... oh alright, i'll walk you through the sodding equaliser then: So, an innocuous back pass drifted it's way between last defender (Rowland) and goalkeeper (yes, me) with, oh, i don't know maybe 10-15 seconds and about 40 metres between the nearest Boroondara player and the ball -

Rowland: "keeper!"
Tim: "backpass!"
Rowland (a little more panicked): "keeper!"
Tim N (even more panicked and spying the dopey Boroondara forward getting closer): "backpasssss!"
Rowland (as the ball was now in the penalty area): "it's yours!" (or something similar)
Tim: "No! i can't, it's yourssss!" (or something similar)
<insert speech bubble of Boroondara striker> "these two are f*cked!"
Rowland & Tim duet: "it's f*cking yourssssss!"

<Tim & Rowland now completely stationary staring at the ball>

Do i need to draw you a freaking diagram, that's right, the luckiest man in purple walked, not ran and slotted the ball into an unguarded net. The next round of screaming came courtesy of Steve Cresswell, but i'm told children read this from time to time, so i won't elaborate on the dialogue espoused.



Other than to say, it was a complete cock up of monumental proportions and cost Central Park the lead. Fortunately, Hendy was able to save the day, first for Boroondara in heading off the line an absolute sitter! Boroondara then used the wind to it's full advantage whipping in a free kick that was narrowly tipped over the bar by Tim in goals.

1-1 going into the second half, and still lots of work to be done. Richard Owen's afternoon ended early succumbing to a mysterious 'thigh injury' (*cough* the atrocious weather), as Central Park turned into Kansas. Stu held up the defense well, and needed to - as both the Loh brothers were feeling the rigours of a long season and sitting this this one out, along with Rod on childminding/orange peeling duties.

Feeling like eskimo's in an igloo, the lads disembarked from the safety of the dressing rooms, Rod leaving his infant daughter in charge of minding the guy's belongings. As the weather worsened, so did Boroondara's chances, Ed bettering Hendy's first half efforts in missing an absolute sitter from a Tim Charters corner.

Possession continued to be dominated by Ed and Nick, the bigger bodies out muscling all before them, in turn producing brilliant service to the likes of Hendy and Alex. Hendy once again found himself in open space, and after missing a couple of gimmes, this time summed up the situation and curled the ball around the advancing keeper and far post for the lead. 2-1

However where Central Park couldn't help themselves, Boroondara did it for them, Steve curled a corner into the difficult breeze and let the wind, as well as the Boroondara keeper, do the work as the poor sod knocked it into his own net. Of course Steve the damn cheat, was ever so quick to claim it (an Essendon supporter, interesting huh?).....

The game began to peter out, Central Park dominating all that counted, and the couple of Boroondara performers finding themselves largely friendless. Not even our 'favourite' referee (see previous blogs, several of them) could ruin our afternoon as his disinterest was validated with a long yawn. Petrakos kept up the enthusiasm with his trademark 'one - two' gallivanting and lung busting prancing down the left touchline as he linked up with Tom and Jeremy. Breathtaking stuff!

A tired goal kick went only as far as to Hendy's feet, who as quickly as he received it, beautifully fired it straight back into an open goal for Ranger's fourth and Hendy's third. Boroondara busted, pushed further into the quagmire that is the bottom of the table, and the game done. Another solid Central Park display

Best: Hendy
The Rest: Alex B, Nick, Ed, Alex P


one for the road.....
Add caption

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Match Report: Thirds Vs South Yarra

Sunday 11th August 2013, Central Park Malvern
Central Park 3 - South Yarra 0

Worm turns on more than just Election debate.

As Abbott & Rudd prepared to out manoeuvre one another in a rather beige televised chat about leaky boats, Central Park warmed all up and showed both parties how it's done in their comprehensive demolition of South Yarra.

In one of the biggest boil overs of the season, a red letter day ensued as Rangers took apart the might of the Yarra for the first time in club history.

With the very real possibility of the game being washed out, the lads worked around the clock in getting the pitch into a playable state. In the space of a week, the goal mouth bog had become more like a well, as Tom Davies put in the hard yards in attempting to irrigate the mess with a reluctant broom.

New faces aplenty, nearly as many as the Yarra in fact who seem to have their own birthing wing at the nearby Alfred. Though known for their revolving door of British pack backers, the footballing mole assured us that our timing wasn't great, for the Yarra were fielding 'several' Saturday players from the glittering Provisional League. This didn't bode well, given the 6 nil touch up dish out Rangers way last meeting sans Yarra superstars.

The new look South Yarra was responded to with a new look Central Park when it came to desire and commitment. Central Park raced out of the blocks showing no respect to the much more fancied opponent and clearly the element of surprise had South Yarra on the back foot early. Having won the toss and taking full advantage of a sub-arctic gale, it was South Yarra who most would assume be the more dominant side. In a convenient twist though, the difficult conditions forced Central Park to play short direct balls on the deck, an adopted game plan that seemed to suit the lads perfectly and set the tone for the afternoon.

(Clockwork: An artist's impression of Central Park on Sunday)

The Rangers shape was good, excellent actually, as South Yarra typically tried to bend it's formation to their liking with long through balls and flanking runs. But the lads wouldn't have a bar of it, Ian keeping close tabs on the away side's resident Yardy who threatened with his pace nearly as much as his menacing studs up-take no prisoners attack on anything with a pulse. Not a flinch could be seen though as Rod and Rowland coolly shifted the ball out of defense courtesy of an impressive Rangers midfield who did their bit in tracking back when needed to provide a passing option out of trouble.

Like a matching pair of Malvernite mansion escapee terriers, Ben and Tom hounded the Yarra defense in search of the ball. The pressure was tremendous, and it wasn't long before the likes of usual suspects Tim Charters, Flynny and Petrekis were dining out on the subsequent turn-overs. Charters was having trouble getting the required purchase to genuinely threaten on the corners, but the writing was on the wall for South Yarra - a win here was going to require their best effort.



An 11th hour inclusion, Tim in goals dropped the Voltarin and mummified his sore thumb before somehow squeezing his hand into the glove, and was on regular alert, snuffing out even half chances and keeping the talk up at the back.

The Yardy made his intentions clear, unrealistically lumbering after a through ball and throwing a boot out in the direction of Tim sliding in cover. A nasty collision left Tim clutching at his arm nearly as obviously as he was giving the referee a verbal spray for ignoring the cheap shot.

Ed and Petrakos were taking full aerial advantage of some decent goal kicks that were illogically finding distance despite nature's fans being on full throttle. With this kind of determination, it wasn't long before Rangers had the lead. Alex B, in a real purple patch of late, ran rings around a couple of also-rans and drilled the opener. Another step toward his maiden Golden Croc.

I'm not sure who was more shocked at how the game was unfolding, us or them, but Flynny couldn't give a shit either way (Flynny do you even keep score or know who were playing against?). Arriving dressed as though he'd just completed a Himalayan jungle expedition, Flynny parked the Red Barron on Wattletree Rd, slipped into some Rangers day attire and helped himself to Central Park's second. "What's all the fuss?" he'd later be overheard quizzing.

South Yarra were pissed, like i mean really pissed man.... and savagely pushed in the final 10 for a score. A moments madness from Tim in goals was rescued by Ian on the last line, and that's as close as the Yarra would get.

Kars and Brian were proving excellent backup and run off the bench, Brian keeping the Yarra sweeper on his toes, and Kars providing a critical blanket job on the South Yarra's lines turned twinkle-toed winger.

Chances fell to South Yarra as the second half wore on, but the Rangers lads were equal to the challenge. Tim returned the favor to Ian, who's disastrous miss-kick from the mud brought the best of the Rangers number 1 who pounced on the feet of a closing Yarra striker.

But for all of the might South Yarra threw at Central Park, the lads managed to grow a leg and harden further. There were cold Peroni's staring at us from the sideline, and the Rangers lads intended on downing them to the tune of embellished post match war stories.

Then the moment came, an opportunity to put the Yarra to the sword for good. The lads don't win nearly as many penalties as they concede (do they Rowland?). And perhaps penalty taking practice could be added to our already 'brimming' training schedule. Actually to their keepers credit, he saved magnificently from a well placed Ed shot, keeping South Yarra's ever so faint heartbeat murmuring along.

Nobody had forgotten the feeling of last week's capitulation again Bayside, and nor did the lads wish to experience such a fade out. So the question was rhetorically asked - "would last weeks bitters turn to this week's jitters?"

If the script said so, then someone forgot to tell the Charters and Loh families, who fielded the a fair chunk of the side thanks to the very handy inclusion of little brother Jules Charters. Tim C had invited the lad down for a boys weekend from his native Sydney for a bit of a R&R. Jules mightn't be so keen next time, especially if Tim keeps bullshitting to him about playing for an unbeatable Premier League side in between pints.

South Yarra had thrown everything at the home side and come up with duck eggs, and instead turned to berate each other. Meanwhile Tim in goals and Alex B decided to adopt the Blackburn Rovers circa 1995 title winning long ball game, and help themselves to a 3rd. Alex chasing down a wind assisted kick out and nailing his second to round out a solid days work.

A 3 nil flogging against a very highly regarded side. A fine way to get off the bottom of the ladder, as a no doubt nervous Boroondara prepare to face an ever improving Central Park.

P.S. The tupperware has been found!



Best: Alex B/Tim C/Rod
The Rest: Best team effort of the year me thinks!
Christy Brown: Mr. Senneck, step up please sir!


Thursday, August 8, 2013

Match Report: Thirds Vs Elwood

Sunday 4th August 2013, Elwood Park Elwood
Elwood 4 - Central Park 4

Thumbs down as a Rangers victory slips through the fingers.

Like sands through an Elwood Beach hourglass, Central Park have somehow managed to blow a 3 goal lead in an 8 goal thriller, resulting in a draw that felt very much like a heartbreaking loss.

In a tale of two halves, both sides would play their best attacking and worst defending in the first half, only to then reverse such a trend in the second. Sunday Thirds football i tells ya'.....

Central Park and Elwood are fast establishing a solid rivalry that showcases high scoring affairs and plenty of controversy. If memory serves, last fixture saw the lads move from 2 nil down to 3-2 up, only to be debunked by the very handy Thirds anomaly: a 'heap' of substitutes - something Rangers couldn't boast.

6-3 Elwood was how that one finished.

Things were equally high scoring this time round as Rangers went agonizingly close to exacting revenge, only good fortune and persistence saving Elwood from an upset loss. Central Park fielded a strong side consisting of teeny bopper duo Tom and Ben, and, much to the delight and surprise of all - the return of Jungle George from a career threatening snapped hamstring. Throw in a decent and focused match preparation and suddenly an upset of the home team threatened to ruin many a local Sunday brunch.

Suddenly, the first piece of drama unfolded even before the kickoff. Finalizing the warm-up, a rambunctious Petrakos completed the match book in record time, and fired a ball Tim's way. Taking his his eye of it for just a split second, a rabid dog-like howling shriek could be heard across the bay all the way to Newport as Tim buckled over in agony with a sprained thumb.



With no time for one of the plethora of Central Park medico's to provide medical aid, the Careflight chopper was waved away, and Tim instead prayed to god and anybody who would listen, that his services would be rarely needed. (Forgive me for the histrionics, but i'm still carrying significant guilt for the result - and AM accepting monetary donations).

For a moment there, Tim felt he might just get his Starlight Foundation wish and not be required at all - cos Central Park were smoking from the kickoff, as an ageing Elwood (nice to be able to make that distinction of the opposition for a change) struggled to cope with the zippy and enthusiastic Rangers pace (ESPECIALLY nice to be able to make THAT distinction about the opposition for a change).

The game was no more than 5 minutes old, when Charters and Tom worked their magic on the left, leaving a stretched Elwood in all sorts. A total ballz up at the back ensued and the ball spilled to Hendy, who did what he does, skipped past a couple of would-be's, took it wide and slotted the opener.

From the kickoff, Elwood, quite possibly in possession for the first time of the match, surged forward. With little support around him, the diminutive Elwood striker went for broke with a floating lob/shot/hack/chip that caught Tim off guard. The Rangers no. 1 managed to get a pinky (on the good hand) to it as the ball rattled against the post and back into Tim's save keeping. A close call, however Tim wouldn't be so lucky the next time around, as the gangly yet skillful Elwood no. 9 fired off an equally innocuous shot his way. One astute witness would later compare it to "sinking in quicksand" as a 'graceful' 95kg of goalkeeper attempted to ice-skate his way across the goalmouth bog and save the day. The lucky little son-of-bitch was in hysterics for the home side as the scoreboard ticked over to 1 a piece.

Yet the tempo and dominance of the game still didn't change, Rangers going about their business once again. Stu, with a rare starting spot, worked in well with Hendy and harassed the Elwood defence on the right. Now i think Stu will be the first to admit that finishing hasn't always been a footballing strength of his - see file footage below. So of course fate would have it that Stu managed to squeeze the most unlikely of shots between the legs of at least one defender and in the tightest of spots (the cankle of Elwood's no. 1 and the post) for a Central Park goal.

(defeat from the jaws of victory - Stu laments the 'one that got away' against South Yarra) Courtesy: Bradbeer Images 

But the lad made good, and continued to have a sound game. Central Park's first changes were then made, as Ben and Brian got in on the action, Jungle and Charters did what they pleased whilst the back four continued to keep the Elwood cavalry quiet. Tom remained busy, and was as deserving as they get when he buried Ranger's third, despite Elwood's complaints for offside.

If Elwood were staggering like a wounded boxer after that, they were on the canvas next when a disastrous Elwood goal kick barely skimmed the grass and ended up in the extremely competent keeping of Alex Bradbeer. Whilst no fewer than 5 Elwood players stood around admiring Alex's dazzling footwork, the Ranger's strongman waltzed his way through a hole even the well fed Elwood keeper couldn't fill, and past red shirts who resembled Marks & Spencer mannequins (most of the Elwood guys are British, so it seems). 4-1 after half an hour, and it suddenly looked like "how many?".

Central Park made another change with Brian swung into the action, as Elwood used the stoppage to get their shit together and begin to work a bit harder, and actually started winning some more of that elusive possession.Whilst not a lone hand, gangly no. 9 (who with his strikingly white sleeves and spaghetti like arms resembled an Octopus or one of those inflatable whacky guy things used car salesmen attract business with) was clearly Elwood's most dangerous scoring option and kept all four Ranger's defenders on guard as he drifted into space across the park. Fitting it was then that he was the one to get in behind the Rangers defence to put in a high floating cross that was bait for even an U9's goalie. With a sore hand (yes, i'm blaming that again) and feeling rather gun shy, Tim advanced out, calling the cross his own as he attempted to punch the ball away. A complete air swing transpired, that even the ball seemed to laugh about, as an unmarked Elwood player, hardly believing his luck, headed home the easiest of finishes.

(Whacky inflatable tube man!!! Did anyone else think numero 9 resembled one of these?)


Elwood were slowly gaining momentum, and no doubt thoughts of "let's test this keeper" were a constant. The home team again found themselves in a golden attacking position, and another cross found it's way in to the 18 yard box for a the Elwood captain to fabulously flick over a diving Tim in goals for a third score.

Whilst club plastic surgeon Ian Loh worked around the clock in building a prosthetic hand for Tim, the lads seemed puzzled about the extraordinary situation they found themselves in. A feeling that the game should've been dead and buried was clearly on the minds of all.

As the second half commenced, Elwood were clearly still riding high from their impressive comeback, and the better, more attacking team. Central Park meanwhile played like a World Cup Italian team - securing the lead with the very strong intent on defending it.

The rain tumbled harder, which probably suited the homesick Club UK, a tight and at times fiery clash unfolding. The referee, who up until this point had been hardly unsighted, other than to ignore the occasional offside, started to lose his shit a little bit and flash more than the odd yellow card.

Verbal sprays were becoming a norm, as Rowland enjoyed a spicy relationship with several Elwood heavies, including their linesman*, who even from where i was standing in goals, clearly advantaged his side on more than one occasion for the sake of possession.

*see excerpt below from previous Rangers Vs Elwood fixture.....

An equally frustrated Elwood kicked the ball away more than once, earning their own piece of yellow, however it was the hack on Hendy by the last man in defence that should've garnered red. Somehow, with a certain goal unsportingly squandered, Elwood retained 11 men.

George kept himself involved, and was also rewarded with a yellow card, tempers continuing to fray. A gallant Central Park defended extremely well under a mountain of pressure, long range shots, swinging corners and dead ball free kicks all testing the lads mettle.

As the clock wound down, it seemed like Central Park might just hold on, and to win it was looking like this might be necessary - Hendy couldn't take a trick and bury any number of the chances presented his way, whilst Alex B's leg looked as though he'd been gone to town on with a Bobby's baton. Jeremy led by example and hit hard - and maybe that was where Ranger's were a little bit lacking in the latter stages. The more seasoned (older) Elwood conditioning was proving handy as legs grew weary.

A corner with 5 minutes on the clock was wizzed in by Elwood who found two at the back, one of which managed to brilliantly head home from point blank range for an equaliser.

The lads sat in silence eating oranges out of Brian's finest Gorge Jensen silverware. Perhaps this would be the only silverware to end up in our keeping this year, but nobody can dispute the level of heart, commitment and improvement the guys have shown in the back half of the season.

Best: Tim N.....       chillax, i'm kidding! Rowland was da man this week
The Rest: Tim C, Petrakos, Tom, Ian, George, Alex B
Christy Brown: Tim's thumb

"Rowland's Vindication"

*Central Park Vs Elwood, 19/05/2013

You could look it either way - we were down to one option for linesman, or no substitutes. As Central Park powered on, it was the curse of the other (i.e.- theirs) linesman who would play the bigger role. Our old Elwood henchman (more on him later) foe, so offside that he was more or less tending to the roses in the greenhouse up the western end of Central Park, found himself lumbering towards goal. A well placed and unchallenged shot found Tim napping at the near post for the opener. A sheepish looking Elwood linesman felt the chastising of the Rangers back four (c'mon, play it straight buddy, you effed up....). 

Monday, August 5, 2013

Match Report: Thirds Vs Middle Park

Sunday 28th July 2013, Webber's Garage, Albert Park
Middle Park 1 - Central Park 1

High viz  wardrobe proves X Factor as Middle Park sneak home.

Words like “character”, “determination” and “triangle” are bandied around far too freely these days. And by these days I don’t specifically mean today. I mean these current times in which we live. These material times. These times in which I am a material girl. Or boy. The celebrity driven, x factor loving, reality-fame driven bubble. Yes, we are inundated with words that no longer have import. They have been hijacked by every Tom, Dick and Harry who is next in line for their 8 minutes of fame:
This is Timmy, a 13 year old singer songwriter from Mallobumby. Mallobumby is a country town with a population of 16. Mallobumby used to have a booming steel industry. But hit tough times during the glam metal years when half the town left to chase the glam dream. Those that stay recall the halcyon days of Miss, the local cross dressing glam rock band dedicated to Kiss who played every Thursday at the local RSL. Some families stayed, including Timmy’s family. Timmy was raised by his grandfather who is 83. Timmy’s grandfather can’t be here because he is coprophobic. Timmy’s parents died after an anaphylactic reaction to face makeup. A large statue of lipstick stands proudly next to a slouch hat digger in memory of Timmy’s parents. Timmy’s whole town is behind him. Except Errol. Errol is angry at Timmy because Timmy wouldn’t put his hands in Errol’s pockets. Giggity. This is Timmy’s chance to shine. His point to prove. His moment…..



No friends that is not character. Character is being the bottom team on the Sunday league ladder and not giving an inch. Battling against the second top team in the league until the 93rd minute. Character. Drive. Resolve. Central showed plenty of it. Triangle.

And so it was that the Central Park boys turned up to find a highly skilled 15 or so players in yellow high visibility shirts running through game day drills. It was the antithesis of council workers everywhere.
Central Park adopted a traditional 4-4-2, which worked well in the early exchanges. Possession was even with a much of the game being played either side of the halfway line. I guess that’s where it’s normally played. But my point is that both sides struggled to get into any decent attacking position.
Central’s defence stood strong with Rowland and Reuben forming a rock solid partnership. Rowland was strong in the one on ones. Reuben dominated in the tackle, but also looked for a pass each time he won possession - a unique attribute for Sunday league football. The Central lads were able to pass out of defence and backwards in times of danger.  This relieved much of the midfield pressure.

The midfield was strong with good communication from Tim C. Bushranger Tim provided some nice touches and one-twos. The wide men did their jobs, bombing the wings and helping out in defence. Few, if any, genuine opportunities fell to the strikers, but what scraps did come were largely snuffed out by Council.
The yellow team deftly hit a free kick outside the box, which was rudely fended away by a ridiculous full diving stretch save from our keeper. Tim C made it into the box via a jinking run, but only managed to shoot weakly. Central were unable to capitalise from the parried save. Finally, a cross from Alex caught a head and ballooned towards the 30 yd box. Ed, text book like, hit a thunderbolt volley which whistled a couple of centimetres over the bar. It deserved better. Central shut up shop in the last 5 minutes looking to preserve the scoreline into the half time break.

Half time was met with careful optimism. The central park boys looked to stay in the game and eke out a draw or snatch a vital goal. The boys decided to stick to the same plan and avoid a cheap goal, lest all our efforts drain away like sands through the hourglass.

The yellow team came out with a similar resolve in the second half. One sensed their internal dialogue, ‘how the farq are these guys bottom of the table?’ Again few chances presented. And the few chances that did present were squandered. A bit like kars and alex did during my stag weekend in Byron, although Kars was less prolific with his assists. But that’s for another blog.

Standout performers in the second half were Reuben who put in a lung busting box to box performance - some outstanding tackles, followed by the arrogance to pirouette, fade and pick out passes under pressure. Big Ed was all over the pitch winning some crucial first time contests and making some loping but highly efficient runs down the flanks. Young Tom got in on the action and was his usual creative self and loomed large going forward. Alex started finding range with the left boot and pinged in a few solid crosses. Very few mistakes were made and the central boys really did stand up and give it a solid crack. Tim C managed another jink into the box but could not poke the ball on target with a three way contest between himself, defender and goalkeeper.

The yellow team, sensing they may be undone by the central boys, made some wholesale changes and brought on fresh legs to really challenge the tiring central park lads. And so, the changes proved, in hindsight, to be the difference. A fresh faced and fresh legged winger charged down the flank to hit a bouncing ball from 40 yards which floated our keeper. In no way keeps’ fault. One of those ones which, off the boot, has only one destination. The jury is out as to whether it was a shot or a cross, but the outcome was the same. And central were one goal down.

Now Central have been accustomed to cracking in similar situations this season. And from the restart heads were down. Rarely have the central boys played better, yet still trailed by a goal. But the pessimism did not last long and nearly everyone stepped up to take the game by the scruff of the neck. Central have been guilty of looking to others to make the difference in such situations, but there was an individual resolve which resulted in a collective character. Determination. Fortitude. Triangle.
Several goal mouth scrambles ensued, mostly at the yellow end. Central had a couple of chances to draw level had the shooting boots been on. Alas the few chances that presented were snatched or skewed. It was end to end stuff with Central’s shape largely holding and everyone looking to get back and prevent the second goal. Finally, the whistle blew for full time. It was curtains for Sunday. Theatre of the highest quality. Slightly anti-climactic for the central lads, but like a lars von trier film, there was plenty to take away and think about.

BOG – Reuben 
The Rest – Ed, Keeper (everyone else).

Positives – shape, chat and grit. Negatives – lack of that bit of quality in the final third.


Next week – I went to Einstein on the Beach on Friday night. No, not a new hipster bar in Collingwood. It is, in fact, an opera by Philip glass in 4 parts. I heard this song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9CuZD69pJ8&list=AL94UKMTqg-9CxrePSXtp13JWORqWx2iJu I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure they play this to the Barcelona Youth Academy players when they are in their mothers’ womb. It’s literal translation is “offer pass accept offer pass accept offer pass accept offer”. Please ensure that it is going through your mind for 90 minutes on Sunday. If you have the ball, pass it. If you don’t, create an option to receive it. Repeat. Triangle.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Match Report: Thirds Vs Bayside

Sunday 14th July 2013, Central Park Malvern
Central Park 1 - Bayside 2

Aussies robbed by umpiring gaff! 

We all know was the story of the 1st Ashes test, but who'd have thought Rangers would suffer a similar fate at the hands of a referee renowned for his 'generosity'. More on that in a bit.

Bleary eyed from a Saturday night glued to the box isn't such an anomaly for the lads. But this week it was cricket that replaced the boy's usual penchance for French 'nature' flicks made famous by the owls at SBS.

The lack of sleep procured from the totally unsuitable time of the Ashes was the change room talking point - "Was he out, was he in?" Then again that could've been the SBS feature.....
So would the level of interest from Ranger's cosmopolitan blend of British expats and true blue Aussie's take full effect on the match against the Argonauts?

An early morning 'corns and tinea' flavored text message would detail Rods late withdrawal, dashing Richard Owen's hopes of returning from paternity leave into the striker role. With not much change from 14ft of height between them, he and Rowland would instead form an intimating twin tower-ship (is that even a word!? well it is now) at the back.

Following a warm up consisting of rice farming/puddle irrigation as his warm-up, midfielder....wait, wait, sorry 'centre forward', Alex Bradbeer, started with a bang up front and was well supported by B-Loh (that's your nickname now Brian, be grateful - it could've been "Blow").

Defying the greasy conditions, Rangers were as decisive as as a Stuart Broad edge, and as slick and audacious as his refusal to walk, their short passing game keeping things motoring along nicely in the opening half hour. Petrakos controlled the flanks in both defense and attack, totally owning his more diminutive opponent as he and Ian worked beautifully in tandem.

Then came a Bayside masterstroke as they unleashed their 'black widow' of a secret weapon. Totally tang-liscious (and probably what the British ex-pats would call "a page 3 girl"), the ever helpful yet completely helpless Bayside WAG had all distracted with her impressive football retrieving enthusiasm and colourful sideline banter droll enough to make a wharfie blush.



It was just moments after a promising Rangers attacking movement was snuffed out by the Bayside keeper, the no. 1 hoofed the ball long into an advantageous breeze. Das venture south to the other end of the pitch stood Tim in goals, quite possibly preaching an in-depth explanation of post-modernism and cultural tendencies, in a pathetic attempt to flirt with and tune the aforementioned Bayside WAG. Meanwhile the ball finally hit the turf, bouncing just inside the 18 yard box and over an out of position, and very much hamstrung, Ranger's keeper. In she went for the opener, one keepers nightmare making another's dream come true. The WAG had played her part nicely, and squealed with delight. 1 nil Bayside.



As Tim wiped the yolk from his face, the lads regrouped and kept on fighting hard, limiting Bayside to mostly long range shots only, that the Rangers keeper was able to repel. A post-corner goalmouth scramble then ensued and another shot fired perfectly, this time though, it was Tim of the Charters variety who saved brilliantly off his line via the head.

Stu replaced a tiring Kars in the uncustomary position of right-back and did very well (apparently he doesn't like being referred to as a 'utility'!!!). Meanwhile, Tom Davies managed to drag his school holidaying derriere out of bed and made an immediate impact in causing all sorts of chaos up the right wing.

The half grew old, and the players on both sides tired and a bit cranky. So too the ref i dare say - evidenced by the barrage of yellow cards suddenly being dished out for breathing in the wrong direction. Little did we know this was just the start of things to come (although i DID warn the lads about his displeasure at 'weekend work' prior to kick off).

With things winding down, Rowland did his best provide one more moments entertainment for the sodden crowd. A sweeping Bayside run down the left followed by a cross that Rowland unfortunately got his big meaty duke in the way of. Tim's reputation in the face of penalties stood firm, as the free was capitalised from the spot. 2 nil at the break.

The sight of one their better players pulling up stumps (apparently a gremlin, aversion to water?) seemed to lift team morale at the break and talk was good. So good in fact, that Richard Owen's famous orange laced Czechoslovakian silver platter sat untouched in the rooms! (2 kids under five, a month old new born, a full time job, restumping of the house and we STILL couldn't show our appreciation for Rich going the 'extra mile' for the team - sorry mate).

Bayside started the second half the stronger, clearly intent on icing the match early, and intent on a post match snack - no doubt having spied Rich's uneaten navels (that just doesn't sound right does it?). Alex B and Ed had other ideas though, and quickly went about wrestling the momentum Ranger's way in a hard and determined display both should be proud of.

On the back of such leadership, Rangers locked down on Bayside as best they could. A Red Bull charged Tom danced around older and bigger Bayside lads, with Jeremy on hand to provide back up and regular support play.

Under a heap of pressure, Alex B wouldn't be denied and took his chance from another surge forward as Rangers finally pulled one back.

The tempo of the game lifted, a nervous Bayside back four not mucking around as they attempted to clear the ball out of their own half with searching long passes. Smelling Argonaut jocks, Charters and Jeremy upped the ante and drove in even harder, testing the whistle baring cranky-pants' patience on more than one occasion.

And then the moment we all feared came....Those enjoying a great contest could only watch on pity as a shocker of a red card was dished Charters' way. A second yellow, and if possible i reckon a third would've been flashed Tim's way for the gobful he returned fire with.

Central Park's most potent weapon banished to the sideline, not that being down a man discouraged the lads any. Ed roared at the troops to lift a notch, as he covered territory somewhere between attacking midfield and fortress-like defense - probably both. Stirring stuff!

When Tom Davies struck the cross bar, even the Bayside WAG lost her voice, as hearts went in mouths. But it wasn't to be, and as close as Rangers would come to a (much deserved) equaliser.

Honorable loss doesn't cut it, but 'unlucky losers' sure does.

Best: Alex B/Ed
The Rest: Stu, Ian




Malvernites