Jim's Report

Making only his 2nd Allstars appearance, since his debut in 2001, Mr James Higginbotham excused himself from his pressing duties seeking mayoral office in his local village for this year's match.

Publicity shy Jim was moved to pen a post-match email to his partner-in-crime Graham Jackson. Warning: the written transcript below may move you to tears.

Jimmy 'Snug Shorts' Higginbotham steps up to sink one in the penalty competition.

From: James Higginbotham [mailto:bigjim@wet-and-spanky.com]
Sent: Mon 22/08/2005 14:00
To: Jackson, Graham;
Subject: Glory

My dear fellow,

I understand that Mince is due to scribe an account of the Allstars match? I feel slightly queezy at this suggestion and feel that my own contribution will somehow be understated.

For the last 3 years, I have as you know, cast aside an opportunity to play football to pursue my own local mayoral ambitions. Whilst this desire to take up the cudgel of public service has been strangled at the hands of the electorate; precipitated I must say by an unfortunate incident with a rolled-up newspaper, a bicycle pump and a cup of luke warm water; I do proclaim that in playing football I have sacrificed one form of public duty for another.

To that effect I would care for you to consider the following missive. Consider it a jim-ism (or jism for short) and as such let it roll off your tongue. Consider it my own call to arms. Let it be used to understand how history, in the guise of the allstars website, should judge my contribution to the match.

It is not the critic who counts, nor the man who points out where the strong man stumbled, or where a doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man in the arena whose shorts are lightiy soiled, whose face it marred by dust and sweat and blood and the remnants of last nights hairspray (L'Oreal's superhold, actually), who strives galliantly even with a most pompous gait, who errs and who comes up short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy case. The man who at best knows the triumph of narrow defeat and who at worst, if he fails, fails while daring greatly so that his place will never be with those cold timid souls who never knew victory or defeat. Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to take tiffin with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the grey twilight that knows not victory of defeat.

Only in the scoreline was I and the rest of my teammates a loser. Let Mince heed these words and let him be gracious in his account.

Regards,
James

A whole three minutes later from the above picture, and young Jimmy had nearly connected. It was going to be one hell of a strike...

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