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Focus was on park number 10, the Pitz, Townhead, Glasgow where yet another game of 5's was being played on the hallowed plastic surface, legendary for numerous grazes, cuts, and scabs which have and will never heal.
As usual, the game was played at cut-throat pace, one-hunner mile-an-hour stuff, with little in the way of opportunity to hold the ball and spray passes about. This is never a game for the purists, with the normal scenario of 5 angry individuals, mentally drained from a week's abuse on the phones, pitting their wits against 5 angrier individuals, mainly from Clydebank.
Games such as these look towards moments, rather than lengthy periods, of inspiration, which can swing the game in one teams favour.
These moments can range from Richard Lee bursting into a jog, to Campbell passing the ball with his right foot, to Martin Doyle taking a shot in goals. Anything, really, which shocks the opposition and puts them on the proverbial ropes, ready for the proverbial uppercut, and subsequently inevitable proverbial rape.
This particular moment fell to an unlikely hero, Neil Morris, who after years of trying the surprise nutmeg anyone who he took on, decided to try something different.
Taking on the irrepressible Campbell, the fleet-footed youngster Morris spotted an unusually large gap behind the impenetrable defender, approximately 3 yards inside his own half.
Campbell, in anticipation of the inevitable, assumed the normal position on such occasions, and closed his legs.
Morris, in anticipation of the anticipation, and using his previous knowledge of pythagoras theorem, thumped the ball to the side of Campbell and towards the end wall at which the goals he was attacking were positioned.
The other players gasped in anticipation, as the race was on. Campbell span round, calmly knowing that one of his team mates would be standing behind in the routine cover position, to sweep up the danger, only to recoil in horror, as he realised no-one was there. "Damn and blast, where the hell are they?" thought Campbell as Morris drew level with the defender and thundered towards the rebounding ball.
Woefully exposed, the defender knew it was a straight and desperate race for the ball in order to prevent an almost certain goal.
But due to a recent bout of flu, Campbell instantly realised he did not have the energy nor the pace to keep up with Morris.
Using all his guile and experience, Campbell attempted to stick a leg out in order to bring the man down, however sickenenly realsied that Morris was 7-8 yards ahead by this point.
"Damn it all to hell, this flu has slowed down my reactionary and decision making process, thus rendering my powers almost useless", thought Campbell, as Morris retrieved the rebounding ball with precision control.
There was nothing else for it - it was all down to the goalkeeper to stop the attack now.
Morris was by now though in cruise control, as he picked the ball up and effortlessly sent the ball crashing into the net, with a German-like coolness and precision, past the hapless keeper who was so inadequate his name escapes me.
His astounded and elated team mates immediately broke into a
ripple of gentle applause to acknowledge one the finest individual
efforts
ever seen at the Pitz, and knew the game was theirs for the taking. And
you
know, it was.