Toothless, with significant leakage at the back, this performance needed packing off to Switzerland with a teary wave and a large cheque, never to be seen again.

Kern had impressed to a degree before the match, doing some good things and occasionally managing to tackle a couple of children in the pre-match Juniors session. More good things were to come as goal after goal thrummed into the backboard in our warm-up routine, with Ruggie particularly proficient.

When the game itself started, we were generally OK. A man who looked a bit like Beardy Matt, only simultaneously older and younger than Beardy Matt, was doing his best SP impersonation in midfield only with less slow-slow-quick Macchiato press-shuffle and more Duracell puppy, slap bounding. Walsh was doing his best for a man with hair like that and at some point, Shin arrived.

After a generally turgid twenty minutes, our malodourous backline decided the game needed a goal and allowed a non-descript cross to reach a grateful Nomads forward, who gleefully swept home.

Parity was restored shortly thereafter, when good work from a spunky Walsh led to Beardless Matt touching the ball home.

Evens at the break and with more gears for us to grind through, I was quietly confident of nicking a result. We had the better of the opening fifteen minutes of the second period in terms of territory, without ever really threatening the away side’s stopper, before five minutes of madness left us staring down the barrel. No-one covered themselves in glory during this horror period as a combination of limp defensive wafts, quick-step goal-keeping and clinical Nomads finishing saw us 4-1 down.

In fairness, we kept plugging away and Knightingale was able to use all of his muscular frame to stab home at the death after a short corner was wonderfully picked off the right post by a Nomads defender.