Match Report: Thirds Vs Beaumaris

Sunday 24th June 2012, Central Park Malvern
Central Park 1 - Beaumaris 8?

The lads from Central Park saw and felt this:

The ref though, saw this:

And thus begins a tale of farcical circumstances that had the Malvernians seeing more yellow than a Big Bird orgy, and like such a dalliance, boy did feathers fly.

Handball, (also known as team handball, Olympic handball, European handball, or Borden ball) is a team sport in which two teams of seven players each (six outfield players and a goalkeeper) pass a ball to throw it into the goal of the other team. A standard match consists of two periods of 30 minutes, and the team with the most goals scored wins.

More commonly, it's a game played in school yards across the land, usually with a scungy tennis ball. In fact i'd bet you a lick of Clearasil that the kids from Beaumaris High are dancing the bitumen do a game of 'handy' as i sit here in my grown ups job whilst they indulge in 'play lunch'.

Who gives a shit right?

Well, on Sunday's display one would be forgiven for thinking that our 'PR savvy' officiator was also a master multi-tasker and not just a football referree but a handball one too. The man is clearly working too hard, and seemingly got his 'crafts' mixed up and produced what was the most efficient refereeing performance you'd ever see - if we were playing handball. He was also sporting the latest in referreeing attire:

Central Park started well enough and were able to offset the youthful Beaumaris speed with efficient passing and movement off the ball. In what was quickly becoming a tight and entertaining match, the man in black seemed hellbent on stopping the play for the most minor of infringements against the CP boys. Adding to their frustration was a litany of handballs (see handball paragraph) that went uncalled. Irony would have it, that when he FINALLY did blow his whistle for a handling infringement, it was against Central Park! If frustration was creeping in, then sarcasm was oozing out in spades from the boys and soon became evident on the scoreboard. As if we didn't learn quickly enough that cards would be handed out for breathing in the wrong direction, our answering back and questioning of calls managed to net us no fewer than 5 yellow cards in the first half hour, and two goals to Beaumaris. The first a well timed strike taken from just inside the box, and the second a complete debacle as both Tim and Colin played rock, paper, scissors about who would clear the ball. Meanwhile, a Beaumaris punk (who by game's end was crying out for a smack in the mouth) chested the ball into the net from close range. 

(Look-a-like: Did anyone else think the ref looked like this guy? Just as chilling too....)



Down on the scoreboard and their luck, Central continued to fight their way back into the contest, all the while the baby faced assassins getting away with murder courtesy of snide elbows, shoves and late challenges from behind. Tom Davies, the only Central Park player within cooee of the Beamaris average age, then got on the ground with immediate impact. Tom's creativity opened the spaces and following a goalmouth scramble, Mario sniffed out an opportunist goal to keep CP in the contest.


Just on half time Tim would produce a smart save which was cancelled out by a moment of stupidity, as he directed an offside-themed tirade of abuse at the linesman. (Tim would later be advised that the player in question was in fact at least 5 yards ONside, whoops).


The blunder would prove costly, as no more than 10 minutes into the second half, an ill-disciplined Tim in goals would put forward his nomination for Dickhead of the Week. A Beaumaris forward ran at Tim who, cranky himself, collected him late and floored the gangly thing. A second yellow was issued and Tim commenced the walk of shame past the Beaumaris bench for an early shower. The irony (again) was that this time the Beaumaris player WAS offside and play about to be halted by the ref. Sometimes it's just not your day.


A brave Colin was tossed the gloves and number 1 shirt, and to say he performed admirably is a massive understatement. Under a barrage of pressure, with the kids from Beaumaris buzzing around like One Direction groupies at a hotel lobby, Colin produced some fine saves, often from close range and didn't look at all out of place (Colin, i'm away in a couple of weeks, cheers mate). What Colin couldn't repel, Rod and Mario did a fine job hacking the ball away countless times. Nick was continually swarmed upon like ants to a freshly dropped carcass as the score mounted and the Beaumaris coach followed through on his promise of Happy Meals for 5 goals plus.

Best: Tim.......... kidding! Colin was the man.
The Rest: Rod, Tom, Nick, Mario,
So i couldn't help myself and trawled through the archives as i could've sworn we were on the wrong end of this ref once before. I give you a snippet about about his Central Park 'fondness' from the match report of Central Park Vs South Yarra, 19/08/2010 at Fawkner Park:

the ref astounded all, replying: “you should be over there, playing with them” as he pointed dagger-like to the adjacent oval of young girls having a kick. This was iced with a yellow card to Steve.


I'll leave it at that.

Match Report: Thirds Vs Old Melburnians

Sunday 17th June 2012, Central Park Malvern

Central Park 6 - Old Melburnians 3

Forbidden fruit, the presence of a wise Christian and a phoenix rising from the ashes - who says Sunday isn't the 'holy day'?!

JC can shove his meagre offering of bread and fish squarely where it fits, as Central Park and a resilient Old Melburnians instead delivered a feast of goals in conditions more likened to parting of the seas than a footballing goal-fest. 

On the back of successive losses, Central Park were using their mid-year sabbatical to lick their wounds and have a long hard look at themselves. An open 'dear john' letter to the boys from team management demanding more was sobering enough. The deduction of 3 precious competition points the ultimate kick in the knackers, and a double whammy for Captain Cresswell who bookended that with a one match ban.

Steely focused, the lads matched OM's impressive pre-match warm up with enthusiasm of their own, led by spiritual leader Mario. Fulfilling his promise to complete the dreaded 'bookwork', Armani-clad Nick dashed to the ground from work, having dished out Section 32's faster than an auctioneer can say "renovators dream".

A spirited energy simmered through the Central Park rooms, as finally it was proven that a decent warm up and game preparation could be easily achieved. Whilst the calming hand of god (Daniel) quietly prayed in the corner for the team's fortunes and the usual game plan discussion took place led by Rod, football talk was suddenly replaced by dollar signs in the eyes of the lads, and three propaganda-fuelled words: "Reward: find Kony". Alas it was a false alarm and merely graduates of the George Weah footballing academy arriving for their match on the adjacent ground. Good guys, dud footballers though.

 

(Size matters: it wasn't just the girth of their 'weaponary' that had Central Park feeling a tad inadequate about baring all in a change room with Clarinda FC)

With their mind well the and truly back on the job, Central Park started the better, the warm up game of 'keepings off' continuing into the match proper. Difficult conditions didn't affect the lads, as Old Melburnians - at a similar end of the ladder, hunted out possession. Their perseverance started to play dividends with CP boxed into their own half. As the rain finally started to tumble, Central Park's 'quarterback', Mario, found himself gifting the most unfortunate of wayward headers into the path of a zippy OM who ran at Tim and unmarked and finished sweetly, 1 nil.

With Pricey *cough* Steve, and big Richard Owen detoxing/sobering up on the pine, Central Park then brought in the two with immediate results. Rich came within a Wales V Wallabies penalty goal (ouch!) of finishing off a free kick, his first touch for the match a glancing header that nearly found the net. Steve, sensing detection from the FFV brethren (who's late night card games and light beer swilling competitions are said to be 'off the chain'), started the match coyly but quickly found his groove. Tim C racked up his usual amount of carry and now found himself linking up with Steve out wide. A slick ball movement finishing with Tom skipping round his umpteenth opponent nearly bore fruit, and less than a minute later a nearly identical play secured the equaliser. Great vision was made by Steve, who had rolled up in full fancy dress as Pricey (seems he took things quite literally when we told him "you're playing as Pricey today"). A peach of a pass found a rampaging Tim C who dragged the ball wide and slotted a dangerous low pass across the face of goal where man mountain Nick was on hand to bury his first of the afternoon past a hapless keeper.

With order restored and the cold rain doing it's best work, a corner from Tim C was sent hard and fast toward the OM keeper, who, in his defense was possibly suffering concussion from Nick's canon aimed at him earlier. A double fisted punch that his nemesis in the opposing goal would be proud of, was executed, and sound contact of leather on synthetic was made. Unfortunately though - in completely the wrong direction, netting Central Park's second and the lead. Tim C, the cheeky little bastard, ran around celebrating the goal as a shot, and i suppose we'll give him the benefit of the doubt as there was no more deserving player on the park to score.

Now, i'll confess to a little back of the boardroom "should we or shouldn't we?" chatter that took place concerning the inclusion of Steve Cresswell in the side this week. Does he honor the week off gifted by the FFV, and hope the team shape up as a result, or do we let him make it up to the team and allow his footballing ability do the talking? In a rock's or diamonds flip of the coin, and under the influence of a 'breakfast' cooked by Pricey (don't ask), Steve unleashed a venomous strike from outside the box that has cycling's governing body requesting a urine sample, and more impressively, a shot  that nearly took the keepers head off - that's if he saw it to get near it. 3 - 1 at the break, and Central Park well on top.


A buoyant mood consumed the Central Park camp at the break, courtesy of the impressive scoreboard - though i beg to differ and put it down to the replenished energy levels courtesy of Gaz's mum. I'm told Gaz's "no. 1 fan" got up extra early Sunday morning to prepare a vitamin packed half time snack for the boys that showcased more fruit than Oxford St on Mardi Gras night. You rock Mrs. Tucker! 

With the wind in their sail, Central Park bounced out looking to put the result beyond doubt and a 4th goal came quickly, once again fine passing work through the midfield freeing up Tom who attracted more than a couple of defenders, before zigging, zagging and laying off to Nick once again who was having a picnic. Once more he pulled trigger for his second, and left the keeper on his arse. 
A Plucky OM refused to lie down and kept coming, a highly dubious penalty (more outside the box than in) giving them a sniff, before Richard 'pinch hitter' Owen got his scone on the end of a loose ball and headed into an unguarded net to keep the difference to 3.

When the referee then deemed another hard tackle to be penalty-worthy, it really did seem he was all about a high scoring game. Once again, OM finished truly from the spot. Central Park pressed on despite the comfortable lead, a necessity given OM's refusal to lie down - an impressive quality for a team on the end of some real shellackings this season. Dave and Rod keeping things honest at the back, and Tim N getting no more than a pinkie onto a long range rocket that found the post. 


Tim C, who'd destroyed all before him all day was again in on the action, ducking and weaving before callously being brought down just inside the box. Nick stepped up and fittingly rammed home the penalty claiming his maiden hat trick and the match ball. A fine way to close the deal on the sale of yet another Moorrabin West mansion.


A week is a long time in football. Yes, a stronger side this week but an even stronger will to compete and win, courtesy of an improved attitude. I know i enjoyed the day - let's keep the good times rolling.


Best: Nick
The Rest: Tim C, Steve, Tom, Rod, Dave

Match Report: Thirds Vs Old Xaverians

Sunday 3rd June 2012, Hays Paddock, Kew.
Central Park 0 - Old Xaverians College 3

"I do a good magic trick. I show a red card and players like you disappear" - anonymous.
Winter swept it's way into the 2012 season, and it's arrival wouldn't be forgotten in a hurry - not due to the chilly conditions, but more the extraordinary chain of events that were to take place on Sunday.

Central Park's last foray to 'the farm' that is Hays Paddock doesn't hold the fondest of memories. Last's year 6 nil drubbing rounded out by a broken ankle to the side's oldest player was quite a way to play out the final game of the season.

Making a win a bit more feasible was the fact Central Park had since been relegated, and a stronger side than last season would therefore face off Xavier's Division 3 sundries.

With several regulars unavailable, and a handful of ring-ins, Central Park assembled a side needing to be at their absolute best to produce the goods.
Instead, a lethargic looking red & black outfit lobbed up, and offered a performance that looked as shabby as the run-down demountable change rooms on offer.

An ominous sign came early when the referee - a most enigmatic character - offered some of his 'best' stand up work as part of a pre-game address that baffled all. Stitching one another up from the laughter, 22 puzzled footballers shuffled into position and got on with things.

The game wasn't more than 2 minutes old when it was assumed that Spike Milligan was back to his old tricks, awarding Xavier a penalty for reasons that were absolutely laughable. Cries of "are you watching the same game?" went unanswered as the first goal was seen. Tim maintaining his perfect record of having never saved a penalty.

Aggravated and clearly letting the penalty rankle them, Central Park took out their frustration on one and all, including each other, much to the satisfaction of Xavier who did as they pleased and played keepings off. It wasn't long before shots on goal became a regular occurrence with Rod and Nick two of the better performers in offering some resistance. A long range shot came in that would've been easily catch able for Tim, who instead executed his best Superman (see below) impersonation punching the ball into the lap of the oncoming Xavier striker to slot home. A third would be added at the famed 'Da Luca' (what a toss) end before the half-time whistle came.

The chatter, what little there was, at half time surrounded not the performance of Central Park, but more the unusual decision making behaviors of the man in black. He'd handed out more than a couple of yellow cards, which was the icing on the cake of a very ordinary Central Park performance.

If that was the icing on the cake, Steve Creswell would prove to be the ornamental candle on top. The second stanza was only 10 minutes old when Steve received a second yellow card, and marching orders for nothing more than a bad 'knock-knock' joke.

Not suffering fools gladly, our master of satire cum novice referee would then cap off a horrendous day for all concerned. Dissatisfied with Steve's choice of positioning on the sideline, he then held the game up for 5 or so minutes to argue with the physics of the situation. As we all stood around catching the sniffles, our geriatric officiator then really blew his stack and announced something to the effect of "right, that's it - i'm outta here, i've got homebrew to bottle". He then tucked his flags under his arms and marched past the booing and hissing from both benches, ignoring the desperate bunny-boiler like cries to a jilted lover, of "please - just give us one more chance!". A hard man emerged, who wouldn't hear of it, and was mentally already sifting through the yeast and hops in his shed to the sounds of Perry Como.

His logic: (more comic genius) "your player refused to vacate the 'arena' when i asked". Amazing.

Whilst the game was left incomplete, Xavier were awarded the points (most unfair given how close a contest it was) and neither side actually saw out a result, a wise man would be heard offering: "Both Central Park and the referee had a stinker, but the real loser was the game of football". 

True that, and if Central Park want to salvage anything more than a dowel spoon this year, a rapid turn change in attitude is required. I'll get off my soapbox, and leave the spine tingler's for none other than Al Pacino.

Best (of a very bad lot): Nick
The Rest: Rod, Sammy, Colin
Worst: ? (hint: black with silver on top)