Goalkeeping, Teamwork and Lovenests. IUE 1-1 Cavallina

Tuesday 18th December 2007, Cerreti. Scorer: Mark (pen)

Now, I suspect many of us, round about the age of 8 or 9 years old, flirted with the idea of being a goalkeeper. Maybe some of us even bought a pair of gloves, or even a goalie shirt. Maybe we insisted our hero was the goalkeeper of our favourite team. THERE comes a time though when ordinary people have to let go of this dream, when they discover the the better things in life and abandon the solitary solace of the muddy goalmouth, and start to look for more excitement. Cars, women, playing on the pitch. Some people, the proverbial 'last pick' in the playground, remain goalkeepers though, never graduating from that number one spot, either through being kept in there by their peers or because they have found their niche as see no reason to come out from under the crossbar. In the past two and a half years we have had a few people who have entirely voluntarily gone in goal for this side: Barnaby, that French kid with the long hair and, of course, the founding father of the internet, apparently, Tom Gilmour. In that period we have also had a fair few other fill-in keepers: Fabian, Andrew (who got knocked out doing it), Igor, Nate, Charles, to name a few, and now me.

It is often true of keepers that they are so unpopular that even the grass doesn't bother to grow where they stand. Well, we don't play on grass so I felt pretty popular as I let in a goal in the first minute without having touched the ball. Brilliant. Bad defensive error, and not a good thing to do given our potentially fragile mentality what with a relatively makeshift line-up, with Dom and Mate starting togther in the middle of the park, Tijl on the right, and Leo on the left, and Jonny and David up front. Simon came in at centre back for his first start of the season and Andrew moved back to his beloved rightback spot. Here we go, I thought. To our great credit though, I acted as nothing more than a glorified sweeper for the next 78 minutes, as we put on our best team performance of the season, with great variation form Dom and Mate, great selfless running from David and Jonny and an outstanding performance from the entire defence, in particular Simon who played better than than I have ever seen him play before, and who was probably man of the match. In the 80th minute I finally had something to do again, after Mark had leveled with a penalty, as Jason Lee (google it if you don't know) closed in on me after the ball skipped off Si's head. It honestly didn't seem a weird thing to do at the time, but the comments, bemusement and laughs from almost everyone at the end of the game made me think that maybe it wasn't the done keeper thing to do to take it off the striker's toe, shimmy past him and dribble forward out of the box. I was honestly going to carry on going until I remembered what position I was playing.

After the game we were told by Tijl of women's sexuality in bar fiasco, the manifestation of which is somehow summed up in the Vanneste classic of 'come into my lovenest'. Ask Mark. Would it be mean at this point to say that Tijl missed the biggest open goal I have seen in years in the last minute of this game? Slightly. We all know that it could have happened to any of us. We also hit the post and had three cleared off the line in the first half as we showed great discipline to keep our shape and keep the ball moving, with people constantly giving options to the man on the ball. We looked confident in possession, and, after our first minute lapse, secure at the back. Simon summed it up when he broke down the play, dribbled out of defence, pushed Mate out of the way, continued forward and pinged it out to Leo who was storming down the left.

This game was also of note because of the fact that it was the first one I have played for the EUI where the wind has been a factor, with it being so hard in the first half that I had tears in my eyes. It also made life as a goalkeeping a goalkeeping sweeper easy, as everything came through to me. In the second half, with the wind at our back we perhaps didn't tr your luck enough with shots from around the box, even though I was screaming to do it after their keeper got injured (twice). Our great play finally got the goal it deserved when Jonny won us a penalty (although the bizarre decision to punch it also had something to do with it). Mark did a little dance with the keeper on the penalty spot and then fell out with him after he'd slotted it home. For once, we all enjoyed Mark's display of aggression! Leo did a Mario Mendez after he disgracefully fouled their full back who was ushering the ball out over the goal line and then picked up the ball and twatted at the guy. Hmmm. Fair enough. It turned out that Leo had influenced some of our impressionable young players as David followed suit and got booked for a similar thing. All very amusing, until you all get suspended, like bad boy Irial for this game. I spent most of the second half absolutely freezing to death, with the equally cold, but slightly better wrapped up fans kept amused by my attempts to keep warm. Markie Jones did a great job of making sure everyone heard all my instructions at least twice as he bellowed my calls verbatim up the pitch.

Andrew also got booked when he crocked their player, Fabian style in their box, when he simply failed to realise that you can't score a trademark cross when the ball is simply not there. Eek. Last few seconds, Dom does brilliantly in the box, skips past a couple hits it at goal, deflected, runs across the face, miss. Oh well. Two points dropped, but a good performance, another comeback, great character and discipline ans selflessness, and now five unbeaten. We played very well, made easily enough chances to win it comfortably, gave them only a chance and a half and stopped them from playing and had them on the back foot for the whole game. A great performance from a lot of players who have all done easily enough to keep their place for the next game, which after the Christmas break at Sales vs Sporting Club Firenze. Bagsy not in goal.

We also (maybe) saw Arnout play his last (and outstanding) game for the EUI. Good luck Arnout! We will all miss you, especially Mark.

Another thing of note: of the twelve in the squad for this game there were only four PhD researchers. Me, Mark, Tijl and David. Where are the other 300 or so? Fourth place at Christmas. A few wins and we're right up there.

Team: Luke - Andrew, Arnout, Simon, Mark - Tijl, Mate, Dom, Leo - Jonny, David.

Shameless plug: PHOTO EXHIBITION AT THE BLOB

Three of los fantasticos are featured in a fantastic portrait photo exhibition at the Blob by our good friend, and brilliant photographer, Filiz Gumusaneli. Friday til Sunday. Launch on Friday with aperitivo with from 7pm onwards Friday. Two for one drinks with Dom Brucciani DJing. Don't worry Glencross, no hip-hop. You racist.

The pictures are all for sale. You can buy this one of me for your girlfriend. My nana has her eye on it though, so you'll have to outbid her.

Middle of the Road and Middle of the Park. Super Sub Dave McCourt. Sporting 2003 2-2 IUE

Monday, 10th December 2007. Bisenzio, San Piero a Ponti.

Last week we learned of the evil of Andrew Glencross and how racism is key to the success of the right, in particular in scoring with crosses. Although, characteristically of the right, Glencross has moved to the centre in recent times (to centre back), his true colours came out last week. Dave McCourt is a different political, social and footballing animal; he comes from the centre ground. The midfield as we sometimes call it. Self professed 'middle of the road' McCourt came on at half time and stole the right wing with a bursting run from the centre and scored another cross for the EUI. Comes from the centre but governs from the right.

Last season I mentioned after the game at Cavallina that me and Irial were scared because we couldn't swim. It wasn't quite that bad last night, although half the pitch was very similar to a swamp. I actually think this game might not have been played in England - the usual 'does the ball bounce?' test would clearly not have been met, as balls do not bounce in six inches of wet mud. Now, Davo MCCourt was keen to stress, somewhat apologetically, his middle of the road music tastes last night, when we were discussing the first albums we ever bought. Quite right for someone who will be working in the Ministry for the Empire or wherever it is that right wing civil servants work these days. Mate was banging on about some weird style of music. ?Bigger than hip-hop' it was allegedly. I know who Chuck Brown is Tokic, don't worry. Maybe if Go-Go had made it bigger than hip-hop we never would have had the great lyric that was clearly about last night's experience: And I'm the dirtiest thing in sight/Matter of fact bring out the girls and let's have a mudfight. Anyone? WITHOUT looking it up on the internet this time Alex!

Anyway, Sporting are an average side who now how to play on this surface: It involves a highly effective, but unsophisticated tactic of playing a 4-4-2 with advanced strikers and wingers who push on the opposition's backline down the opposite flank to the ball, waiting for it to be switched by the central midfielders forward into the opposite channel. They never had a move of more than three passes, but it was effective against us last year, when we never won, or even drew, a game on one of these mud pitches. The idea was to dominate midfield, push our strikers forward and look for balls into their paths and down the wings. The backline was to be deep to counteract their balls over the top. We struggled at first on the very very heavy pitch, especially because we were attacking in the half that was much worse, with puddles everywhere. Our marking was too slack at the back, and talking was minimal. They got in behind once and Charles blocked well. They got in again and burried it. Typical Sporting move, and a goal we should have avoided. Just because the ball is over the other side of the park doesn't mean we should stop following our men. 1-0 down.

We adapt to the conditions and me and Nate swap wings. We start to have success down both of them, and really take the game to them. The balls splashes across their goalmouth a couple of times and we have good chances from a couple of corners and crosses.We are really getting stuck in. Me and Markie are perhaps lucky not to be booked for obviously deliberate fouls from behind. Benefit of the doubt in the conditions I guess. We start to play well in the middle, with us finally starting to try and play in wide or forward as soon as we get it. It seems only a matter of time. Unfortunately they get a counter attack corner and score a one in a million goal from it, after Irial cleared well and it landed right on the boot of their lad who was dropping out of the box. His volley was going wide but it deflects of the head of one of their players and goes past the wrong-footed Charles. 2-0. Half-time.

Dave M comes in for Luis to get some more steel into the middle and give us fresh legs on a tiring pitch. That he hasn't played the first half is evident as he races around the pitch at twice the speed as everyone else. We are more confident in the better half and spread the ball well. We spend most of the half attacking down the right, and have a lot of success. We win a throw half way into their half. Dave darts into the space down the line and I take the throw quickly and long into his path towards the box. He whips it across, over the keeper and in. A GlenCross. I almost get an identical one a couple of minutes later, and we look on top. Their defence is trembling and their midfielders have much deeper starting positions and are more laboured going forward. This plays into our hands and we take it to them. Leo comes on and more fresh legs give us energy down the left. He tracks back brilliantly at one point (shock, horror, Leo defending!) and thwarts a dangerous counter attack of theirs. Dom comes on down the right for Go-Go boy Tokic and has fun slipping all over the place. We start to look tired and vulnerable to counter attacks but excellent when we attack. We get in behind a couple of times but the balls across don't quite finish in the back of the net.

We are really pinging it around now, and easily the best move of the game ends up with Irial on the ball 25 yards out. He cuts back inside his man and plays it into the outside right channel into my path. Tempted to shoot, I cut back inside the man and wait for Irial to come square and roll it into his path. He sizes it up and curls into beautifully into the top corner. Fantactic goal. 2-2. Jonny and Tijl cause them some scares in the last couple of minutes, but the game is over. 2-2. A great fightback, again. Un pareggio che vale una vittoria. We should be very pleased with this result, what with the pitch, the opposition's expertise in playing on it and the fact that we were 2-0 down. The second week in a row we have made a change in the middle of the park that has changed the game. Well done everyone. An excellent second half performance, and a fighting spirit to be proud of. Another thing to note, especially for the conspiracy theorists: our last 10 goals have all been by anglophones. Anyway, I'll lend you some CDs and a copy of Il Manifesto, Davo.

Team: Charles - Mate (Dom), Andrew, Arnout, Mark - Luke (Tijl), Luis (Dave M), Sebastian, Nate (Leo) - David BS (Jonny), Irial

Andrew Glencross and the epistemic and ethical wrongs of right wing politics. IUE 4-3 Medici Fiorentini

Tuesday, 4th December 2007. Cerreti. Scorers: Irial, Mark (pen), Luke, Andrew

Now, 'wrong' is a powerful word in the English language. The reason for this is the formidable combination of both epistemically and morally misplaced views which this adjective connotes. Now, if I can make this slightly editorial, if one thing is definitely wrong it is reactionary right wing thinking, in any guise, and if anyone in the history of IUE Calcio it is Andrew Glencross. This is the kind of kid who goes onto the Guardian website just to get pissed off by its overly leftist leanings. I say 'goes onto'... I mean spends every day scouring it.

Now, right wing politics, which we stipulatively define here as the irrational and reactionary attachment to certain perceived traditional or conservative values which tend towards retaining a status quo based on existing structures of disadvantage, is clearly an epistemic mistake, from the assumption that any structure of power should reflect an aspiration of social justice, even given most right wing rhetorical leanings towards values such as equality of individual interests, because such a political system reflecting such backward views would never achieve such aspirations. Similarly, holding such views is clearly ethically mistaken as it would be wrong to believe in the value of a political system which does not reflect an aspiration for genuine social justice.

However, accusing the right winger of both evil and stupidly is slightly harsh: If they are just stupid, they have just got their facts wrong about the logistics of social justice. They want social justice, they are just too thick to realise how to achieve it. Conversely, if they are aware of the flaws of their irrational views, they are not epistemically mistaken, but instead exclusively morally flawed, as they simply do not possess the altruism necessary to desire a genuine quantum of social justice. For them to be in this morally questionable situation, they must be aware of the ineffectual nature of right wing politics in achieving social justice. As such, it would seem that Andrew Glencross is either evil or stupid but not both. Now, I know Andrew has a PhD from the EUI and some degrees from Cambridge, but that doesn't't necessarily mean he is stupid. I think we should seriously consider the possibility that he is genuinely evil...

So, Andrew has played, quite evilly, for the EUI for four and half years, and must be the record appearance holder. In that time, he has been a player, a manager and a captain. For some time, he has been the proud owner of three own goals which he has put past his own keeper over the years. Two in one game apparently. Brilliant, mate.

Last night, last minute, 3-3 after a great comeback, Andrew gets the ball thirty yards out after hesitating too long after I had played it wide to him from a free kick in the centre. It rebounds to him, he nudges it into the space, and curls it towards the goal, quite racistly. The keeper, obviously a La Nazione reader and AN voter, takes pity on him and lets it go into the top corner. Glencross wins it from 25 yards in the last minutes. Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. Well done, Benito.

All this after the craziest match we've been involved in for ages. A great start and an early lead, cancelled out after some woeful play and then even more woeful play left us 3-1 down with half an hour to go. A great comeback, and a dramatic winner, all witnessed by our favourite wanker of a ref, left a jubilant side celebrating a win which we should have sown up after 20 minutes but didn't guarantee until the last seconds.

This was a game which saw a great postmatch team spirit after a slow mooch down to Finnegan. A pissed off Marina throwing a throng of us out before we headed to Roberto's for a good while, before 10 of us headed down to the Blob with our shiny new AICS cards until 4, when half of us headed round Markie Jones' place until 6. That's the way to celebrate a last minute 4-3 win.

Okay, the match. I think what described it best, notwithstanding all the positive hyperbole, was my opening line of the half time team talk: 'This is a fucking disgrace'. We did well to eventually claim the win in this game, but we should be beating this side five or six nil. This is the team of Florentine doctors, by the way, with doctors' insignia on their shirt. They were all over 35 bar one or two and we should have hammered them. Somehow we threw away a great start, after we capitalised on good pressure when David fought hard and won the ball in their box, looked up and picked out Irial, who passed it in. With a much changed midfield, with me and Luis dropping out, and Davie Horan missing (although he would have been on the bench too after last week), the idea was to overpower them in the middle and play from their. Unfortunately we completely lost it and forgot how to play football. The last twenty minutes of the first half were terrible. with almost no meaningful passes reaching their men, and us chasing the ball. They equalised through a converted rebound off a freekick, and then a tap-in after a squared ball across the goal after we gave them the ball. Offside? Yes. Didn't matter. They would have scored even if they had stayed onside.

Half time. Anger, anger, anger. Relax on the ball. Be decisive at the back. We do neither and let in a terrible third goal. 3-1. No way we're losing this. David hits the post almost immediately. Luis comes on for Dave M, and I come on for David BS. We play in their half for the next 20 minutes non-stop. We start to look dangerous from set pieces and crosses and the goal is coming. I pop up on the left and Luis squares in to me, I lift it up and dink it into Leo's path as he runs into the box towards goal. Wrestled down: Penalty. Brilliant penalty by Mark. 2-3. Quarter of an hour left. Plenty of time. We pile on the pressure. The amount of space is phenomenal. We get a corner. Ref doesn't know you have to be 10 yards away. UNBELIEVABLE: Luke gets pissed off. Some of you might have noticed I have been trying to score with corners this year. No-one was keeping this one out. Goal direct from a corner. Best goal I've ever scored I would say, and first for the EUI in over 20-something matches. 'Bout fucking time. 3-3. I was pretty fucking pshyched, as Nate might say. Hi frat buddies.

Ref goes mental. This motherfucker is absolutely deranged. Not capable of taking charge of remote control let alone a football match between 22 hotheaded males. Calls a series of unbelievable fouls against us. Books Irial and Mark for absolutely no reason. We ride our luck. They hit the post at one point, although I was never scared they were scoring there.

We get a freekick 45 yards out. I faint to cross, roll it to Andrew. Glencross fucks up the cross and the ball comes back to him. He lofts it goalwards from 25 yards, Goal. 4-3. Thatcher would be proud, the way he occupied that space on the right, overcame numerous inherent problems of immorality and incorrectness and snatched a win. 2007 just like 1979. Andrew Glencross: wrong, evil or wrong, thick?

Mentions also for: Mate's continued wearing of red trousers. Good for you sir. Mate's beard. Arnout's Mark-like spack-out at the ref. Roberto's donation of all the left over sandwiches when we left the baraccio.

Team: Charles - Mate, Arnout, Andrew, Mark - Nate, Sebastian, Dave M (Luis), Leo (Jonny) - Irial, David BS (Luke)

Saturday: Fundraising party at FINNEGAN, v S Gallo, with Hatton-Mayweather to follow if we are nice to Si and Toby.