Day of The Battle between Sons.

Southwick 3 (J Daviies, J Daviies, J Daviies)
Lewes 2 ( G Daviies, G Daviies)
By Mr Daviiieees (i.e. Joes dad)

A battle of blood, guts and glory it not for the faint hearted at the best of times, but when it is your two sons playing, both of my heirs, both fruits of my loins involved, it becomes ten times worse. It then becomes infinitely worse when they do battle on opposing sides. Who will I cheer for!? Can I support one team over the other or must I keep quiet as the emotion spills wild on the pitch? These are questions that have distracted me all week. On Saturday night who will still be my son? And who will be disowned as an utter loser?
When I turned up to the Southdown I was pleased to see both my boys dishing out a tongue lashings to their respective sides, who had both come away disappointed the week before. I had decided before my arrival to give a brief hello to both so as not to show favourites. “Good morning George” I said. “Good morning father, how do you do?” was George’s curt reply. “I do well thank you my son, but I cannot hug you this morning. I will show no favourites on this fateful day and you must not show weakness in front of your troops”. “Reluctantly I agree to your terms father”.
The first one down I slowly walked over to the Southwick camp to give Joseph the same. As I approached, Joseph was really laying into the side, especially one player. “You may think you are F’ing Harry Stiles, but you will always be the Berkshire Hunt who gave me trials. ME! Do you know who I F’ing am? I’ve played in national finals!”.
The boy seemed close to tears so I decided to step in. “No Dad, He’s our F’ing captain and needs to show some f’ing metal!” None of the rest of the team seemed to want to defend their captain, but I fear they may be scared to do so in front of my Joseph. To be fair, Josephs tactic seemed to have worked, as the Southwick captain actually had a good game!
I got Joseph on his own once he had ordered the team to go and warm up. “Good morning Joseph, I trust you are keeping well?” I must admit even me, his father, will be cautious when he is in one of these moods. “Should you not be warming up with the team?” I asked. “Me! You must be having a bubble bath. You at least know who I F’ing am, I’ve played in national F’ing finals!”
“True Son, but they look as if they could use your help”.
“Fair point” he replied. “oi you”, Joseph shouted to one of the substitutes. “Come and warm me up….do you know who I F’ing am?!”
Greetings over, I took my place and waited for the match to start. To be honest I missed most of the match as I watched both Davies’s pull the strings in the sides, Judging how the game was going, and adjusting their players accordingly. The breakthrough came at some point in the first half. Lewes had fouled Southwick and Paulie G took a quick free hit to himself running in the D. A lovely pass to the back post and an open goal to my Joseph, who calmly slotted in the open goal. “ Yeah F you George, you know who I F’ing am!”. I was amazed at the speed Joseph had managed to run from his goal to George’s, but the gamble had paid off.
At the halftime break George approached me. “Please father, do not be disappointed. I swear on my girly BMW half series that I will avenge my elder brothers behaviour”. To his credit, Lewes started the second half far stronger and George finished a mazy run from his own goal line by slotting the ball between Joseph’s legs. “One all brother….The game is now on” George calmly commented to his furious brother before walking back to his own half.
To prove this was not a fluke, George again dribbled the ball past every Southwick player on the pitch before calmly finishing again past his brother. “It appears I now have the lead brother. Perhaps it is time you started to learn who I am?”
As witty as this was, I fear that was the wrong thing to say, as this only enraged my eldest. A short corner was won by a Southwick player (I don’t know or care which one it was). Joseph came tearing up the pitch. “F you Birdy, you have had enough chances at short corners and F’ed them all up. I am F’ing shooting now……Do you know who I F’ing am?” Bang! And the goal was scored. 2 – 2. All four scored by men of the Davieeees family.
The game continued, blah blah blah, yawn, whatever. Then the moment came. Joseph now playing centre forward as well as goalie (and centre midfield) dicked 5 Lewes players before smashing an unstoppable reverse shot into the top left of the goal. It smashed the left post, then the right and eventually the net bulged.
“SAY MY F’ING NAAAAAAMMMMMMMEEEEEE!!!!!” Joseph screamed to the gods. The game was over. 3-2 to Southwick.
The final whistle blowed and I found myself face to face with both sons. Tears of anger and joy in Josephs face, tears of disappointment in Georges. “Please forgive me father. I am sorry that I have brought dishonour to our house”.
“Do not be ridiculous my son, you were up against a titan amongst men today in your brother. No mortal can face him in single combat.”
“You know who I F’ing am” was Joseph’s only comment.
The fateful day was over, and I can honestly say I still call both men my son, neither a loser in my eyes. For if it was not for the Daviiieees out there today, I don’t think even the players involved would have been interested in that match. What young men Joseph and George have turned into. Heroes if you will.