Final Score: Cambridge South 5 - Cambridge Nomads 6
Location: Long Road, where dreams are dashed and ankles are snapped
 
We began the second half 5-1 down, which is a polite way of saying we’d spent the first half impersonating a collection of startled deer. Our local rivals, Cambridge Nomads, had gleefully taken advantage of our generous spacing, interpretive defending, and general confusion about which way we were meant to be running. It was less a hockey match and more a live demonstration of what not to do.
 
To be fair, we did score in the first half - Ash Krishnan, ever the gentleman rebel, found the net from open play with the kind of finish that suggested he’d read the rulebook, unlike the rest of us. It was a glimmer of competence in an otherwise theatrical farce.
 
But after half time, something changed. Maybe it was the stirring team talk (“Let’s pretend it’s nil-nil and we’re not terrible”), or maybe it was the collective shame of being thrashed by our local rivals. Either way, we came out swinging.
 
Ash stepped up for a penalty flick and, in a move that defied convention, gently pushed the ball to the goalkeeper’s left-hand side. It went in. The goalie looked baffled. We were delighted. That brought us to 5-2, and suddenly, the impossible seemed vaguely plausible.
 
Ed Creedy, clearly fed up with the scoreline and possibly with us, decided to take matters into his own hands and scored a neat goal from open play. He scored a brace with the kind of clinical finishing that made us wonder if he’d been swapped out for a professional during half time. Rumours remain unconfirmed.
 
Then came Jonathan Camp’s moment of glory. Our fourth goal. A strike so majestic it could’ve been accompanied by slow-motion replays and a swelling orchestral score. Sadly, the celebration was short-lived - Jonny promptly broke his ankle and exited the game with the tragic elegance of a Shakespearean hero. He was nearly awarded LOM for abandoning us mid-comeback, but that honour went to Alistair Smith, who laughed heartily at Jonny’s misfortune before realising he wasn’t joking.
 
Ed then added his second goal to bring us within touching distance. With the score at 6-5, we threw everything forward. Our final push was valiant, chaotic, and involved more shouting than actual hockey. The equaliser danced tantalisingly close, but alas, Nomads held on - clinging to their lead like a toddler to a biscuit.
 
Off the pitch, the battle for Player of the Match was as fierce as the game itself. Rob O’Connor and Tom Steed both put in performances worthy of folklore, but Tom clinched it after winning a post-match nail-off with the kind of poise that would make a neurosurgeon jealous.
 
In other news, one of our former players - Miles - who recently defected to Nomads, was mysteriously absent. Word on the sideline was that his mum said he couldn’t play against us this weekend. A tactical decision? A moral dilemma? Or simply a reminder that mums still run the show.
 
Next week: fewer injuries, more goals, and ideally, a first half that doesn’t resemble a pub quiz team trying hockey for the first time.