An intellectual match report from Jack? “Surely you can’t be serious?” “I am serious, and don’t call me Shirley.”

It was an earlier start for some than others, with Craig travelling up from near Oxford Street (that's OXFORD STREET – thank you, Pearson, OXFORD STREET– thank you again, Pearson. We have all got it now) – that's one of the three green properties on the monopoly board.

Uni teams have a reputation for high levels of fitness but we hoped they had had one too many Singapore Slings (invented in 1915 at the Raffles Hotel) the night before and would be as helpless as a koala or possum's joey. It turned out they were as slippery as an eel's elver and with as much energy as a hare's leveret. Psych-up music blaring out of the changing room should have been the first hint. Graveling was not impressed with this modern dross and asked for the 1972 hit "Mouldy Old Dough" by Lieutenant Pigeon (whose young are, incidentally, called squabs). This lead to blank expressions from the students – nice to know something can stump even the intellectual elite of Cambridge.

So with a squad of thirteen and coach Colin on the side lines making it fourteen – the same as the number of clubs allowed in a golfer's bag – it looked like South would be outnumbered by the twenty-three students, which just happens to be the lowest number it is impossible to score with a single dart. Luckily only sixteen were able to play in the game. Little did those suffering from triskaidekaphobia realise it would be slowly reduced in number as the game progressed (see Lemon).

The match started as it would continue throughout, with both teams playing with a pace that would put the fleet-footed Bow Street Runners of the 1750's to shame. Craig got the first goal with the kind of hockey intelligence that could be compared to Newton's discovery of gravity or perhaps Einstein's theory of relativity, with a low slap-shot. We were 1-0 up – take your passion and make it happen, what a feeling!

The Uni kept moving the ball well in their green kit (which is another name for a young beaver or mink) and got an equaliser with defenders Colin and Rosselli falling over and being about as much use as a lettuce (a member of the sunflower family) and a spinach (which is served with Eggs Florentine) at the back. 1-1. Another goal soon followed from a Uni short corner. 2-1, and I had a tainted love for this game.

South battled on. Virdi in particular, as is his style, was as ferocious as a river horse (or hippopotamus) in defence and I believe one of opposition needed some nitrous oxide (or laughing gas) to help him recover from one challenge. McCulloch proved he could do something a wolf cannot when his barking got a free hit turned against us by the umpire, but South were playing with fire and brimstone (or sulphur).

Shortly before half time, Craig blasted a ball to the far post where Chalk, defying his years, dived like what any good student of ichthyology would have seen was a pickerel rather than a pike. A first M1 goal for his new stick, bought from the company set up by Adolf Dassler in 1948. 2-2.

Half time energy was restored, not with the bergamot oranges traditionally used for flavouring Earl Grey tea, but with a pack of Haribo. With the alveoli in our lungs helping restore depleted oxygen levels, the second half began.

Hungry like the Wolf, Craig restored the balance to our favour almost straight away with a poacher's finish. I assume he is born on the 18^th of October, making him a Libra for this skill. 3-2.

Midway through the second half, Jason's sixth sense (or is it seventh, Pearson?) abandoned him. Graveling yelled "Leave it!" to a ball that had glanced off an attacker's stick in the D. "You talking to me?", Jason enquired. "No", replied Graveling, sheepishly, "I was talking to the attacker." Taxi (driver) for one… A very soft goal was the unfortunate result. 3-3.

Right from the push back, Uni stole the ball again and despite Jason's efforts making it look like he had ten arms, much like a squid, he could not keep out a quick snap-shot through his legs. 4-3.

Pearson declared, “I feel the need. The need for speed” and to coach Colin's delight went on a diagonal run before passing the ball to Craig. Craig burst into the D and unleashed a rising shot into the top corner. At least it would have been if McCulloch had not got his shoulder to it. Come to think of it, it could not have been that high as, at 5'8'' he claims, Graham is only level with the bulls eye of a dart board. He, as always, made a meal of it, claiming it was like Tyson Fury would feel after his fight with Ukrainian boxer Vladimir Klitschko (he got this right actually) in Germany later that evening, or more powerful than the rocket that sent the two mice Benjy and Laska into space. With that the chance was Gone with the Wind.

When the going gets tough, the Wizard of Oz gets going. He bundled his way up field, passed the ball to Craig who shipped it back for Oz to tap the ball through his own legs to crawl over the line via a defender's foot. Why was this so important you ask? Well, much like the cleaning of Nelson's Column in 1968, the 1885 building of a sky scrapper in Chicago and Dr Christian Barnard performing a heart transplant, it was a first as Paresh had previously never scored in open play for South! Could this be a once in a lifetime event? 4-4.

As the game matured like an Australian Barossa Valley wine, both sides had their chances to win the game in the dying minutes. However it was two late injuries that could be the major talking points, the first as a student was caught on the leg by a mistimed clearance whilst another tried to head the ball clear from his own D. I hope they have not damaged their bones down to the marrow as this could result in reduced red blood cell production. One of them looked in more pain than Giorgio Chiellini after he was bitten by Luis Suarez. We wish all three a speedy recovery, as Uni are playing Wisbech away tomorrow. If not perhaps they can follow in the footsteps of Mike“Fluff” Cowan, Jim “Bones” Mackay and Fanny Sunnesso and go as caddies for the rest of their team.

South can be proud that they left everything on the pitch and earned a well-deserved beer and teas. Aston declared, "Show me the money" and match fees were paid. Unhappy about the time he spent on the bench, Jamie declared it was Money for Nothing and he was in Dire Straits. Goody-Two-Shoes Xavi, who Don't Drink, Don't Smoke, paid up at once. McCulloch thought he smelt the popular pasta named after a cooking pot, Lasagne, for teas. Whilst Pearson thought it was Filo pastry and would be Baclava. McCulloch was closer when chilli was brought out, fitting when the chief food for half the world is rice. Aston complained they did not have his favourite green horseradish wasabi to go with it. Our man from Down Under was not full and grabbed a spare ticket, claiming if he did not get any more he would have to see some Men at Work about buying some bread from a man in Brussels – apparently he was 6' 4" and full of muscles. It was then back to The Cars to Drive home.

So in the end a point, not a perfect score but the Au (gold) prize of the league title is still in our own hands, with Ely drawing at St Neots last week. The Uni remain in bronze, an alloy made mainly of copper which itself is named after the island of Cyprus medal position. Speaking of warmer climes, at least the forecast nimbus clouds did not appear bringing the rain we all expected. Hopefully it will not be what feels like a crystal anniversary of 3^rd/4^th place finishes for the M1s.

Remember a Mystery Box is just like life; it could be a like box of chocolates or maybe just a box with a slice of onion in it.