Spartans Edged Out By Garforth
Vets? or Dad's v Lads?
As quite often with the Vets it was a last minute game. But who can say ‘no’ to a final game of the season and the promise of copious amounts of alcohol … not I!
Also, as quite often happens with the Vets the day before the game we have 20+ players the day of the game we don’t!
It wasn’t Garforth’s fault that the average of their team was below 30, whereas the Spartans could easily have been North of 50 they had been let down by Ponty and we gladly filled the void.
Anyway as the match progressed and the years melted away it was the Spartans who for longish periods of the game managed to look the more accomplished team.
The ref had a good game, yes he missed an obvious forward pass in the run up to the match winning try, but without an AR, a TJ or VAR what can you do?
Just ask the Garforth winger who missed out on his maiden try right at the end of the game for what looked to be a harsh double movement call, ce la vie.
We lost, but I think had a moral victory, anyway 24 hours later who cares, well Gary obviously, the game will be remembered for one thing and one thing alone.
Martin our much maligned coach, manager and dogsbody entered the fray in the second half, looked to be having a steady game, marshalled the troops well, and appeared in control right up to the moment somebody trod on his wedding tackle.
He carried on gingerly (no pun intended) knowing that things downstairs weren’t right yet refusing to be bowed or broken playing for the full 80 minutes and extras as a Morley man should. It wasn’t till the changing rooms after that the full extent of the injury was known.
Never one to pass up the opportunity for gallows humour you can’t help yourself, you have to laugh at the site of an old man with his old man in his hand parading around an injury that appears to have been inflicted by Loretta Bobbit.
The beer flowed, the bar was full of the whiff of bull***t and in walked Martin, having been to the ‘walk-in centre’ crestfallen.
The NHS’s finest had laughed at his Hampton the man deserved a beer.
MoM: John Thomas
Finally, just so he shuts up John ‘The Bull’ Leathley scored our try, with a typical barnstorming run from 5 yards. It was a ‘is he or isn’t he’, ‘was he or wasn’t he’, should he or shouldn’t he’ effort that was easily forgotten.
However will he ever shut up about it! FFS even Karl, who scores shed loads, doesn’t blow his own trumpet (sorry Martin) as much.