It’s Friday, I arrive at the pub feeling positive for a big game tomorrow. Oh look who’s here, it’s Andy and Ozzy, wonder how they’re feeling. Bam, I’m told I’m playing centre back. Was hoping at some point I’d start moving up the pitch but no, going backwards. I go to sleep, dreaming of intricate passing patterns and beautiful transfers.

It’s Saturday, I have eggs on crumpet for breakfast, honestly a great combo. Tilly goes and gets pastries, hasn’t told me her brothers coming round for birthday breakfast. Surprise! Personally I wouldn’t loved an apple and cinnamon bun from Cambridge Oven but no pre warning.

I arrive at hockey, feeling positive. Good warmup and into the game. Strong opening 10 but we can’t transfer as they keep cutting it, Ozzie tries to put the burners on their forwards but alas can’t get out of first gear anymore. At some point I start trying to remind people not to let their midfielder have a free pass into the D every time, at a volume level so those at St Mary’s can also hear (this carries on for the rest of the game).

0-0 half time, need to step it up a bit. Alex then decides to put his Oscars push in for dive after it hits his foot, allowing them to run it in for a free short. This is not their only short and they score soon after. Andy then decides it’s his time at centre forward and runs up for a tap in goal. We then let their midfielder walk it in the d for a reverse and 2-1 down.

Betrayed again as Ozzy decides he wants to play in midfield after assisting our equaliser off the short. Immediate green card. We soak some pressure up and he comes back on for an immediate yellow card. 2-2 in the end and time for teas. It’s a tie between Alex and Ozzy for lemon until Stan decides (in his jolly for the 2s) that I should win for being loud. My final betrayal.