OC 3rd XI v Chigwell 2nd XI (h)

Result: 4-3

Well, well, well. I'm still not entirely sure if that was a dream or not? If it was, it was the wettest dream I've ever had and Chigwell must have woken up next to me covered in sperm. Seemingly dead and buried after 83 minutes of football, what went down in the closing moments of Saturday's game will be talked about by our children's children's grandchildren. We yet again started agonizingly slowly and after conceding in the first minute to an unstoppable bullet header from one of their many 7ft oiks employed to bully us all afternoon, it was apparent yet again that we were going to have to come from behind if we wanted to get anything out of the game. And, true to form, that's exactly what we did. For the next 15 minutes, we bossed the game, got the ball down and deservedly drew level through Mark Jackson after he pounced on a rebound from a Cobden-Ramsay shot (really?). But all of a sudden, another Chigwell goal rocked us and for the remainder of the fist half, it felt as if we were second to a lot of ball, beaten to everything in the air and didn't want it as much as Chigwell. And shortly after half time they deservedly extended their lead through a superb volley that left Jenks no chance. Once again we found ourselves 2 goals down with less than a half to play, only this time, what stood in our way was an almighty big and thoroughly determined Chigwell side who had an answer for everything we threw at them. When we tried it to feet , they closed us down in moments, whilst long throws and channel balls were endlessly met by Chigwell heads and after 83 minutes, it looked as though our unbeaten run in the league was about to come a resounding end. And when George hurled another missile into their area with only 7 minutes remaining, I was half expecting it to be met by yet another Chigwell head and deflected out of harms way. However, this 3rd XI side is so dumb, it literally has no idea when it's beaten. As the ball sped its way into their area, it was not in fact a Chigwell head that met the ball but instead the head of Nick Wilkinson, who glanced the ball goal bound, only to be blocked on the line by their non-Chigwell attending captain. As arms were raised and with Wilkinson claiming the ball had crossed the line, panic set in and and amidst the chaos, one of their defenders smashed the ball into his own net and Dave "12th" Mann awarded the goal! Who actually scored the goal still remains a mystery but the most important thing was the lifeline it suddenly handed the OC's. Out of nowhere we suddenly had 5 minutes to push for an equalizer and minutes later, when Chigwell conceded another throw-in in their own half after James Moss had hounded their left back down like a crazy person, George stepped up to deliver another monster throw. As the ball whistled towards their goal, suddenly their defense, that had looked so assured all afternoon, simply had no answer and a glancing headed own goal drew us level. No way! 3-3. From nowhere. After crazed celebrations and Houdini references galore, it dawned on us that there were still 2 minutes to play. Surely there wasn't time for another goal? Or was there? As the ball got pumped down the right wing with Frenchy and Mosser in hot pursuit and every Chigwell player shouting, "Don't put it out for a throw in! Anything but a throw in!", their left back, under pressure from Moss and French, kindly put the ball out for a throw in. 30 seconds remaining. Another Herculean throw from George and out of the fire rose big Al Fenton, jumping like a mackerel on speed to meet the ball with ferocity and guide it into the top right to send Lessington into over-drive.