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