Redstar Camden vs Gower Allstars - semi-final MATCH REPORT by the one and only Rod Paley
Gower Allstars stage a magnificent reply to last week’s league defeat at the hands of Red Star. But it is still not enough
Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy.
The essence of a Greek tragedy is the raising and dashing of hopes. The 2008/9 Gower campaign has been a veritable amphitheatre of trials, tribulations and misfortunes, at a team as well as personal level, that only Euripides himself in his cruellest of moods could have conceived. The glint of silver - in the form of a league and cup double –which had seemed so tantalisingly close after the 6-4 thrashing of Red Star earlier in the season, now transpires cruelly to be nothing more than the muddy gleam of pewter.
Before Sunday’s match, our team hopes of a back-to-back league title already hung by a thread of gossamer after two successive league defeats. The hubris of our individual aspirations as players had left us humbled rather than heroes. Instead of drinking from goblets of wine we seemed destined to drink from the chalice of defeat and despair...or could we reverse cruel fortune in the semi-final and salvage the prospect of redemption in the final against Outback on June 7th?
Still licking our wounds from the previous week’s unexpected yet deserved defeat in the title decider at the hands of the Trojans (Red Star), we Greek warriors were therefore desperate to exorcise the demons of poor individual performance that would haunt us for the rest of the summer if we could not exact revenge on our premier league rivals and now nemesis.
All week, as if encircling the city of Troy itself, we had plotted and campaigned. Tactics had been honed, injuries balmed, holidays cut short and minds focussed. As the sides measured each other up, each Gower warrior pondered how he would affect the battle. Meanwhile, atop the Olympian mound at the mighty Market Road, Zeus, Athena and the other gods conferred as to whom they would favour and how they would intervene.
Today, above all else, Gower would keep possession, play the ball and pass with precision and aplomb. Today, we would keep our line and not yield our ground. Today the Elysian fields would expand when we had the ball and contract when we did not (I quote here the wisdom of King Nestor, known otherwise as Roger). Today those same fields would be stained with the red blood of Red Star and not the maroon blood of Gower.
The battle did not commence thus. We raged and we charged but secure control of the ball eluded us. In fact we gave the ball away initially. And whilst we fought and ran, we found ourselves defending all too quickly. Before the game was truly underway, Red Star had pounced. A clumsy clearance led to a skirmish on the edge of the box. Ossack lunged to clear but Astro (the god of all-weather pitches) intervened and instead of finding a sure footing from which to launch his clearance, his crimson slippers skated on the smooth surface and Red Star were 1-0 up. The ball was pushed to Junior, somehow on-side on the edge of the 6-yard box, and conversion was a formality.
First blood to the Trojans and the dreadful prospect of a second successive capitulation loomed large. But then something stirred in the breasts of Glyn’s Greeks. They began to fight and to harry. They won ball and then kept it. They passed well and they pressed forward. Now it was the turn of Red Star to be dispossessed and forced onto the back foot. The confidence ebbed away from them...and into Gower.
Mikey was at the centre of this resurgence. Winning ball on the floor and in the air, holding it up and passing with confidence his inspirational approach proved the catalyst for the Gower resurrection. Ricky was taking no prisoners. He launched thunderously into tackles. His passing was strong and true. Roger worked indefatigably and was consumed with passion (yet even he was taken aback by the ferocity and frenzy of the linesman when challenged over a decision!)
Johnny and Owen found more rhythm than last week and glided dangerously in-field. Botts caused confusion and on occasions panic in a Red Star back four looking decidedly shaky.
Meanwhile the Gower back four held their line. Glyn gave not a Greek cubit to his striker. Sav and Laurence stuck tenaciously to their opposing wingmen. Ricky and Dave headed away the arrow-like Red Star throw-ins. Bison gathered and collected what remained and moved up with them to sweep. All this good work and unity was encouraged from the touchline by the ululating voices of the Greek chorus in the form of Matt & Ollie, who urged us on with instructions of unerring insight and clarity.
Almost in a moment the wheels of fortune had changed. Glyn rose like a colossus to head home from a corner and within seconds Mikey had struck a thunderbolt of such sublime control and lethal speed that the God of War himself was nodding approval. Red Star’s heads were down. Gower’s tails were up.
A Red Star raid broke through and only the Bison’s outstretched hoof prevented an equaliser as the ball diverted away from goal and just behind the path of the onrushing Junior.
At the other end Botterill rose elegantly like Achilles to head what would surely be the decisive goal...yet we watched in disbelief as a goddess favouring the Trojans suspended the laws of physics and allowed the ball to swerve past the goal.
Glyn tried again first to head and then swivel a volley through the massed ranks of the Red Star defence...but alas in vain.
As the half time whistle blew, Gowers were clearly in the ascendancy. Yet the margin was slim. The teams went into animated huddles. Up on high the gods also conferred.
Divine intervention was not long coming as the second half got underway. A Red Star corner bounced innocuously away from goal towards the edge of the area and somehow contrived to roll up an outstretched Gower arm. It seemed inconceivable that the referee would blow for a penalty – yet the powers on high had decreed that he would. Arthur gratefully hit the stanchion at the back of the right hand corner of the goal with eye-watering speed and accuracy. 2-2.
Yet Gower heads never bowed. We sent waves of assaults raining down on the Red Star defence. Glyn tried another header, another from Roger went wide and another was parried by a desperate lunge from the Red Star keeper. Owen probed and caused problems. A pass from him on the right was only just cut out by a desperate Red Star lunge.
At our end, Red Star’s Arthur shot from outside the box and the Bison made a diving but comfortable save (as comfortable as a landing on bruised ribs can be!) I am not sure what the Greek either for limpet or mother is but in an absorbing contest, Glyn stuck to his man like the mother of all limpets. Their personal battle raged all over the pitch. There was a frenzy and a passion and a ferocity about it that the watching gods must have approved of. Glyn was on top of this one.
And as he edged his personal battle, and his fighting team mates theirs, so with 20 minutes to go Gowers looked certain to edge the team-level struggle with a convincing third goal after a sublime flick from Owen over the Redstar defenders found his striker partner, and there was only one outcome – a Botterill volley underneath the keeper.
3-2 then 22 mins to go. Somehow over the three epic encounters this season, Gowers had hauled themselves ahead. We knew Red Star would come back at us. But we knew we could hold. Matt had come on to provide fresh legs and inspiration and we were looking comfortable. Long balls rained in. Bison gathered them. Throw-ins rained in. The defence headed them clear. Red Star’s striker got the ball. Glyn forced him away. A defensive header from Roger glanced at speed towards goal but straight into the grateful arms of the Bison. Red Star were coming but Gowers were warding them off. We were poised to win.
Another header opportunity, this time from Botterill was missed. Then it was a perfect strike from Roger from outside the box, heading into the top corner, that was somehow tipped round the post.
But then the gods interfered again. Glyn managed to kick the ball against a Red Star player to win a throw-in. Inexplicably, both linesman and referee gave it to Red Star. We protested but lined up as usual. Glyn went for the ball but so did Ricky. The ball glanced off rickys head straight to Junior who from 4 yards out headed powerfully past an incredulous Bison.
How could fate intervene so mercilessly? How could Gower’s endeavour, pluck and skill be so cruelly rewarded? Each player had won his personal battles all over the pitch. Each had confronted the demons of last week and come out on top. And despite this resilience, despite these efforts, we mortals were now only level with our bitter foe again. Over three massive encounters this season, the aggregate score now stood at 11-11. Like two exhausted heavy-weight Greek wrestlers, the teams stood on the brink of the final round and blinked at each other. What would the final twist be? Whose heroic act could break the deadlock? Whose cruel mistake would let the opposition in?
The gods rolled the dice and the Bison’s face came up.
Gathering the umpteenth Red Star long ball, the huge beast prepared to launch a punt up-field. But siren voices were calling. Glyn called to him to get rid. Another voice shouted: “Off-side!” The bison hesitated. Was it a free-kick or should he punt? Glyn yelled again. The voice called again. The Bison hesitated for a second time. By this time Glyn was screaming. Red Star were bleating. But if he punted now, the Bison reasoned groggily, and it really was a free kick for offside, would he not be blown up for time wasting? The Bison decided to ask the referee if he should punt or whether it was, indeed, a free-kick. As if to confirm, the ref blew his whistle and pointed to a spot inside the box. “It is now,” he seemed to say.
Glyn went scarlet. Gower players packed the penalty area and the full enormity and horror of what was about to happen began to take shape. Rod “the Bison” Paley, destined not four weeks ago to retire on the dizzy high of a league and cup double was now to be the architect not only of Gower’s exit from the cup but of his own personal downfall. He was to condemn himself in his very last match to a lifetime of regret and angst about his keeping career. It would be Gower’s last match of the season and his last match ever...and it would all be his fault. It was any goalkeeper’s ultimate nightmare: a moment of indecision followed by a life-time of purgatory. Not even Euripides could come up with a story of such self-torture.
Red Star conferred on tactics. Gower built a wall that spanned the left side of the 6-yard box. The quivering beast crouched behind, protected by his wall, close enough to almost touch his players - yet utterly, indescribably and pitifully alone on his goal line. The suspense was unbearable. The quiet absolute.
And then one of those high up on Olympus – perhaps just a minor goddess of animals or tortured beasts – took pity on the wretched creature and whispered in his ear: “The ball will be rolled to the player just to the left of the taker. He in turn will shoot hard and in the air just inside your right hand post. If you launch your large and creaking frame in that general direction as soon as the free kick is taken, stretch out your arms and extend your broken and dislocated fingers as far as you possibly can, you might just keep this one out. But I can’t guarantee anything. It’s going to be close. I don’t think I can watch.”
Peering between the legs of the huge maroon centipede that had formed on the 6-yard box, the Bison watched in slow motion as the ball indeed was rolled to the left. Like an automaton, he did unquestioningly what the goddess had said, hurling himself to the right with outstretched arm and fingers. The ball came round the wall and into view. The Red Star players started to celebrate. Gower defenders watched in horror. The goddess winced and covered her eyes, but by then the ball had been just tipped round the post. Relief and tension exuded from the still-suspended animal in mid-air. By the time it reached earth, the Bison was so soft and malleable it didn’t even notice that it had landed on its bruised ribs yet again. It looked gratefully up in search of the goddess and found the face of a sporting Red Star player patting him on the back. Purgatory had been averted.
The last two minutes were played in a trance. The gods were on our side. We would win on penalties and the Bison would save the crucial pen...
...oh no he wouldn’t.
Gower Penalty 1. Ricky power drive 1-0
Red Star Penalty 1. Arthur power drive 1-1
Gower penalty 2. Johnny shot to right saved 1-1
Red Star penalty 2 Matt crashes one into roof of net 1-2
Gower penalty 3 Mikey guides one in 2-2
Red Star penalty 3 Perfect shot sends bison wrong way 2-3
Gower penalty 4 Dave side foot to right missed (but retaken and superbly converted) 3-3
Red Star penalty 4 Bison guesses correctly and dives left. Junior’s horrendous penalty somehow bounces underneath him 3-4. Purgatory after all
Gower penalty 5 Owen brings us level 4-4
Red Star penalty 5 Red Star shade it 5-4
Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy.
Man of the match. Everyone could and should go home thinking they were their own man of the match because each and everyone won their personal battles, overcame their previous inadequacies and grappled with their personal demons.
But for sheer strength of character and tenacity; for fighting and stifling, muffling, containing and ultimately edging his personal battle with a formidable striker of skill and strength; for rising Roy Keane-like (remember Inter Milan in 1999?) to head the equaliser and leading the charge on Red Star by sheer example, I am sure the team will allow the indulgence of awarding the man of the match to its dogged skipper – Agamemnon, alias Phil “I never give up” Glyn.
STATUS OF THE LEAGUE:-
REDSTAR REMAINING 3 LEAGUE GAMES WILL BE AGAINST OUTBACK, VIRGIN AND CROWN & GOOSE.
THIS SUNDAY 7TH JUNE, 12PM KINSGBURY STADIUM - REDSTAR TAKE ON OUTBACK IN MA CUP FINAL - WHICH IS ALSO A DOUBLE HEADER IN THE LEAGUE - CONFIRMED - SO IF ITS A DRAW OR OUTBACK WIN AFTER 90 MINS, ALLSTARS WIN THE LEAGUE - SO WE WANT AS MANY GOWERS THERE AS POSSIBLE PLEASE, AS THERE MAYBE CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION.
IF REDSTAR WIN, THE TWO FOLLOWING SUNDAYS, THEY PLAY VIRGIN AND C & G IN 90 MINS DOUBLE HEADERS.
NOTHING BUT MAXIMUM POINTS WILL DO FOR THEM TO WIN THE TITLE.
WATCH THIS SPACE
Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy.
The essence of a Greek tragedy is the raising and dashing of hopes. The 2008/9 Gower campaign has been a veritable amphitheatre of trials, tribulations and misfortunes, at a team as well as personal level, that only Euripides himself in his cruellest of moods could have conceived. The glint of silver - in the form of a league and cup double –which had seemed so tantalisingly close after the 6-4 thrashing of Red Star earlier in the season, now transpires cruelly to be nothing more than the muddy gleam of pewter.
Before Sunday’s match, our team hopes of a back-to-back league title already hung by a thread of gossamer after two successive league defeats. The hubris of our individual aspirations as players had left us humbled rather than heroes. Instead of drinking from goblets of wine we seemed destined to drink from the chalice of defeat and despair...or could we reverse cruel fortune in the semi-final and salvage the prospect of redemption in the final against Outback on June 7th?
Still licking our wounds from the previous week’s unexpected yet deserved defeat in the title decider at the hands of the Trojans (Red Star), we Greek warriors were therefore desperate to exorcise the demons of poor individual performance that would haunt us for the rest of the summer if we could not exact revenge on our premier league rivals and now nemesis.
All week, as if encircling the city of Troy itself, we had plotted and campaigned. Tactics had been honed, injuries balmed, holidays cut short and minds focussed. As the sides measured each other up, each Gower warrior pondered how he would affect the battle. Meanwhile, atop the Olympian mound at the mighty Market Road, Zeus, Athena and the other gods conferred as to whom they would favour and how they would intervene.
Today, above all else, Gower would keep possession, play the ball and pass with precision and aplomb. Today, we would keep our line and not yield our ground. Today the Elysian fields would expand when we had the ball and contract when we did not (I quote here the wisdom of King Nestor, known otherwise as Roger). Today those same fields would be stained with the red blood of Red Star and not the maroon blood of Gower.
The battle did not commence thus. We raged and we charged but secure control of the ball eluded us. In fact we gave the ball away initially. And whilst we fought and ran, we found ourselves defending all too quickly. Before the game was truly underway, Red Star had pounced. A clumsy clearance led to a skirmish on the edge of the box. Ossack lunged to clear but Astro (the god of all-weather pitches) intervened and instead of finding a sure footing from which to launch his clearance, his crimson slippers skated on the smooth surface and Red Star were 1-0 up. The ball was pushed to Junior, somehow on-side on the edge of the 6-yard box, and conversion was a formality.
First blood to the Trojans and the dreadful prospect of a second successive capitulation loomed large. But then something stirred in the breasts of Glyn’s Greeks. They began to fight and to harry. They won ball and then kept it. They passed well and they pressed forward. Now it was the turn of Red Star to be dispossessed and forced onto the back foot. The confidence ebbed away from them...and into Gower.
Mikey was at the centre of this resurgence. Winning ball on the floor and in the air, holding it up and passing with confidence his inspirational approach proved the catalyst for the Gower resurrection. Ricky was taking no prisoners. He launched thunderously into tackles. His passing was strong and true. Roger worked indefatigably and was consumed with passion (yet even he was taken aback by the ferocity and frenzy of the linesman when challenged over a decision!)
Johnny and Owen found more rhythm than last week and glided dangerously in-field. Botts caused confusion and on occasions panic in a Red Star back four looking decidedly shaky.
Meanwhile the Gower back four held their line. Glyn gave not a Greek cubit to his striker. Sav and Laurence stuck tenaciously to their opposing wingmen. Ricky and Dave headed away the arrow-like Red Star throw-ins. Bison gathered and collected what remained and moved up with them to sweep. All this good work and unity was encouraged from the touchline by the ululating voices of the Greek chorus in the form of Matt & Ollie, who urged us on with instructions of unerring insight and clarity.
Almost in a moment the wheels of fortune had changed. Glyn rose like a colossus to head home from a corner and within seconds Mikey had struck a thunderbolt of such sublime control and lethal speed that the God of War himself was nodding approval. Red Star’s heads were down. Gower’s tails were up.
A Red Star raid broke through and only the Bison’s outstretched hoof prevented an equaliser as the ball diverted away from goal and just behind the path of the onrushing Junior.
At the other end Botterill rose elegantly like Achilles to head what would surely be the decisive goal...yet we watched in disbelief as a goddess favouring the Trojans suspended the laws of physics and allowed the ball to swerve past the goal.
Glyn tried again first to head and then swivel a volley through the massed ranks of the Red Star defence...but alas in vain.
As the half time whistle blew, Gowers were clearly in the ascendancy. Yet the margin was slim. The teams went into animated huddles. Up on high the gods also conferred.
Divine intervention was not long coming as the second half got underway. A Red Star corner bounced innocuously away from goal towards the edge of the area and somehow contrived to roll up an outstretched Gower arm. It seemed inconceivable that the referee would blow for a penalty – yet the powers on high had decreed that he would. Arthur gratefully hit the stanchion at the back of the right hand corner of the goal with eye-watering speed and accuracy. 2-2.
Yet Gower heads never bowed. We sent waves of assaults raining down on the Red Star defence. Glyn tried another header, another from Roger went wide and another was parried by a desperate lunge from the Red Star keeper. Owen probed and caused problems. A pass from him on the right was only just cut out by a desperate Red Star lunge.
At our end, Red Star’s Arthur shot from outside the box and the Bison made a diving but comfortable save (as comfortable as a landing on bruised ribs can be!) I am not sure what the Greek either for limpet or mother is but in an absorbing contest, Glyn stuck to his man like the mother of all limpets. Their personal battle raged all over the pitch. There was a frenzy and a passion and a ferocity about it that the watching gods must have approved of. Glyn was on top of this one.
And as he edged his personal battle, and his fighting team mates theirs, so with 20 minutes to go Gowers looked certain to edge the team-level struggle with a convincing third goal after a sublime flick from Owen over the Redstar defenders found his striker partner, and there was only one outcome – a Botterill volley underneath the keeper.
3-2 then 22 mins to go. Somehow over the three epic encounters this season, Gowers had hauled themselves ahead. We knew Red Star would come back at us. But we knew we could hold. Matt had come on to provide fresh legs and inspiration and we were looking comfortable. Long balls rained in. Bison gathered them. Throw-ins rained in. The defence headed them clear. Red Star’s striker got the ball. Glyn forced him away. A defensive header from Roger glanced at speed towards goal but straight into the grateful arms of the Bison. Red Star were coming but Gowers were warding them off. We were poised to win.
Another header opportunity, this time from Botterill was missed. Then it was a perfect strike from Roger from outside the box, heading into the top corner, that was somehow tipped round the post.
But then the gods interfered again. Glyn managed to kick the ball against a Red Star player to win a throw-in. Inexplicably, both linesman and referee gave it to Red Star. We protested but lined up as usual. Glyn went for the ball but so did Ricky. The ball glanced off rickys head straight to Junior who from 4 yards out headed powerfully past an incredulous Bison.
How could fate intervene so mercilessly? How could Gower’s endeavour, pluck and skill be so cruelly rewarded? Each player had won his personal battles all over the pitch. Each had confronted the demons of last week and come out on top. And despite this resilience, despite these efforts, we mortals were now only level with our bitter foe again. Over three massive encounters this season, the aggregate score now stood at 11-11. Like two exhausted heavy-weight Greek wrestlers, the teams stood on the brink of the final round and blinked at each other. What would the final twist be? Whose heroic act could break the deadlock? Whose cruel mistake would let the opposition in?
The gods rolled the dice and the Bison’s face came up.
Gathering the umpteenth Red Star long ball, the huge beast prepared to launch a punt up-field. But siren voices were calling. Glyn called to him to get rid. Another voice shouted: “Off-side!” The bison hesitated. Was it a free-kick or should he punt? Glyn yelled again. The voice called again. The Bison hesitated for a second time. By this time Glyn was screaming. Red Star were bleating. But if he punted now, the Bison reasoned groggily, and it really was a free kick for offside, would he not be blown up for time wasting? The Bison decided to ask the referee if he should punt or whether it was, indeed, a free-kick. As if to confirm, the ref blew his whistle and pointed to a spot inside the box. “It is now,” he seemed to say.
Glyn went scarlet. Gower players packed the penalty area and the full enormity and horror of what was about to happen began to take shape. Rod “the Bison” Paley, destined not four weeks ago to retire on the dizzy high of a league and cup double was now to be the architect not only of Gower’s exit from the cup but of his own personal downfall. He was to condemn himself in his very last match to a lifetime of regret and angst about his keeping career. It would be Gower’s last match of the season and his last match ever...and it would all be his fault. It was any goalkeeper’s ultimate nightmare: a moment of indecision followed by a life-time of purgatory. Not even Euripides could come up with a story of such self-torture.
Red Star conferred on tactics. Gower built a wall that spanned the left side of the 6-yard box. The quivering beast crouched behind, protected by his wall, close enough to almost touch his players - yet utterly, indescribably and pitifully alone on his goal line. The suspense was unbearable. The quiet absolute.
And then one of those high up on Olympus – perhaps just a minor goddess of animals or tortured beasts – took pity on the wretched creature and whispered in his ear: “The ball will be rolled to the player just to the left of the taker. He in turn will shoot hard and in the air just inside your right hand post. If you launch your large and creaking frame in that general direction as soon as the free kick is taken, stretch out your arms and extend your broken and dislocated fingers as far as you possibly can, you might just keep this one out. But I can’t guarantee anything. It’s going to be close. I don’t think I can watch.”
Peering between the legs of the huge maroon centipede that had formed on the 6-yard box, the Bison watched in slow motion as the ball indeed was rolled to the left. Like an automaton, he did unquestioningly what the goddess had said, hurling himself to the right with outstretched arm and fingers. The ball came round the wall and into view. The Red Star players started to celebrate. Gower defenders watched in horror. The goddess winced and covered her eyes, but by then the ball had been just tipped round the post. Relief and tension exuded from the still-suspended animal in mid-air. By the time it reached earth, the Bison was so soft and malleable it didn’t even notice that it had landed on its bruised ribs yet again. It looked gratefully up in search of the goddess and found the face of a sporting Red Star player patting him on the back. Purgatory had been averted.
The last two minutes were played in a trance. The gods were on our side. We would win on penalties and the Bison would save the crucial pen...
...oh no he wouldn’t.
Gower Penalty 1. Ricky power drive 1-0
Red Star Penalty 1. Arthur power drive 1-1
Gower penalty 2. Johnny shot to right saved 1-1
Red Star penalty 2 Matt crashes one into roof of net 1-2
Gower penalty 3 Mikey guides one in 2-2
Red Star penalty 3 Perfect shot sends bison wrong way 2-3
Gower penalty 4 Dave side foot to right missed (but retaken and superbly converted) 3-3
Red Star penalty 4 Bison guesses correctly and dives left. Junior’s horrendous penalty somehow bounces underneath him 3-4. Purgatory after all
Gower penalty 5 Owen brings us level 4-4
Red Star penalty 5 Red Star shade it 5-4
Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy.
Man of the match. Everyone could and should go home thinking they were their own man of the match because each and everyone won their personal battles, overcame their previous inadequacies and grappled with their personal demons.
But for sheer strength of character and tenacity; for fighting and stifling, muffling, containing and ultimately edging his personal battle with a formidable striker of skill and strength; for rising Roy Keane-like (remember Inter Milan in 1999?) to head the equaliser and leading the charge on Red Star by sheer example, I am sure the team will allow the indulgence of awarding the man of the match to its dogged skipper – Agamemnon, alias Phil “I never give up” Glyn.
STATUS OF THE LEAGUE:-
REDSTAR REMAINING 3 LEAGUE GAMES WILL BE AGAINST OUTBACK, VIRGIN AND CROWN & GOOSE.
THIS SUNDAY 7TH JUNE, 12PM KINSGBURY STADIUM - REDSTAR TAKE ON OUTBACK IN MA CUP FINAL - WHICH IS ALSO A DOUBLE HEADER IN THE LEAGUE - CONFIRMED - SO IF ITS A DRAW OR OUTBACK WIN AFTER 90 MINS, ALLSTARS WIN THE LEAGUE - SO WE WANT AS MANY GOWERS THERE AS POSSIBLE PLEASE, AS THERE MAYBE CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION.
IF REDSTAR WIN, THE TWO FOLLOWING SUNDAYS, THEY PLAY VIRGIN AND C & G IN 90 MINS DOUBLE HEADERS.
NOTHING BUT MAXIMUM POINTS WILL DO FOR THEM TO WIN THE TITLE.
WATCH THIS SPACE
posted by Gower FC @ 10:49 AM
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