Graham's Goal (as narrated by Graham)

The bedrock of Team Mince had been a solid defence. In previous years Sheff and Jez defended like titans. This year it was more like the Republican Guard. Punching holes through the ramshackle rear line at will I had already been denied by the woodwork and two 'accidental' saves by Billy. I was not to be denied on this occasion.

Cookie had comfortably dispossessed an ageing Jack. I saw Cookie look up. He was stranded in the middle of the pack. Into a slow jog I pushed up towards Jez and Rich and with the screech of silver boot on turf launched the gears. In an act of remarkable anticipation Cookie executed a floated reverse pass into the empty space. The defence were left stranded. Perhaps I covered the first 30 yards in 3 seconds, perhaps I covered more ground. The ball had floated a little too wide. A reflection of the rutted surface. Deslick was bracing himself for the likely cross.

In text book fashion Billy went to cover the near post and Jez went to cover the beaten fullback. I checked my stride. Perhaps only I alone could foretell what was about to happen. Surely no other player has it in their repertoire? My early dash of searing pace had given me time but not the space. As I strode up to the ball, my natural timing meant no perceptible adjustment to stride was required, I shifted my weight quickly from right foot to left. Almost akin to the pendulum motion of Ernie Els' golf swing, I remember thinking at the time. Swinging quickly but appearing to do it slowly whilst maintaining the triumvirate equilibrium of balance, poise and rhythm.

As a disciple of the great Simon Cullin (aka Benny of the Lenton Hall years) I flicked at the ball synchronising the simultaneous snap of ankle, hip and knee - an undetectable technique that serves to impart great accuracy and speed to a moving spherical object. Billy did the decent thing. He stood rooted to the spot. Perhaps mesmerized by the turn of pace, perhaps the sheer effrontery of the goalscorer or in disgust at the poor defending in front of him. Whatever the reason he could do nothing but watch the ball flash past him, just a fraction beyond his reach and a fraction inside his outside right post. A margin best measured in millimetres. Team Mince were 3 down and beaten. In celebration I modestly picked out Cookie for a firm handshake. "Good ball Cookie. Now let me return the favour and make you look good for the rest of the match - By Jove we'll have that golden boot on your mantlepiece by the end of the day." Scorer of wonder goals and a team player to the last.

Graham also had the following astute observations to make on the game, after watching a second-half video recording:

Apart from the sheer speed of the game 3 things stood out:

1. Cookie's hat-trick miss was worse than I thought and Shaggy's look of disbelief and Deslick's abuse classic.
2. Mince should spend a little more time sorting out the defensive frailties of his team and a little less time playing up to the watching ladies (yes your arse looked great in those shorts).
3. Jack's hair has a real lustre, with movement, body and shine - Pantene Pro V Frictus?

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