So the day started promisingly, with two hangovers and Emma having not left work until 2am. We all piled into cars and, amazingly, arrived in Ely without anyone getting lost or being late. After a team talk from Louisa and some hairdressing from Mel we headed out into the cold – and cold it was. There were announcements from at least five members of the team (of which I was one) that a) we were very unimpressed with the temperature, and b) something about how much we love the pitch.

Just before push back and following on from last week’s goal in the first three minutes, Eimear announced that I ought to score within the first minute or she would be very disappointed. Not one to disappoint, Eimear made a great tackle, slipped me the ball, I dribbled it around the keeper and we had our first goal (forty-five seconds and counting).

We appeared to get a little complacent after that. The pitch was slow and sandy, as we knew it would be: we also became a little slow, some of us (me) also became sandy because I apparently can’t stay on my feet during a game. I have been told not everything is about me, and that this match report needed to feature the rest of the team as well – so here goes.

In a MoM winning performance, Harriet ‘the Glorious’ Shipley - as she is now to be known, courtesy of Katie Gibson - fought hard as sweeper, winning and distributing balls all over the place. We had a series of short corners, the final of which resulted in a goal from Louisa who says this must be a big point of the match report as it may never happen again. MoM nominations were split across seven members of the team, proving that we really did work together and worked hard.

Rebecca and Mel worked hard on the wings, creating great two-v-ones to feed the ball through to the forwards, and our defensive line of Ellie, Jess and Lucy worked to clear any of the balls that came their way. Lucy and Jess found themselves on an adventure up to the attacking twenty-three and, to Lucy’s surprise, involved in long corners. Our third and final goal came from Kate Burton, who made a tackle on the halfway line, ran the length of the pitch and managed to squeeze the ball in between the keeper and the near post.

Four was the number of the day: it is firstly the number of goals that were scored (we have chosen to gloss over Ely’s goal, which was a culmination of missing the ball by about ten people) and it was also the number of times that Katie Gibson got hit. She has given the phrase ‘purple to purple’ an entirely new meaning.

Lemon went unanimously to the hangovers – Mel and Kate, but with a special mention to Eimear who tried to decapitate me halfway through the second half. Was she bored? Am I really that annoying? We’ll never know.