Aquae Sulis. Home to the internationally acclaimed Roman Baths, a Grade 1-listed 7th Century Abbey famous for its gothic fan vaulting, the grand Pump Rooms where visitors from all corners of the globe drink spa water from the thermae springs next door and the Georgian splendour of the architectural delight that is the Royal Crescent. In 2012, Pulteney Weir was used as a replacement location during production of the film adaptation of Les Misérables, while an estimated four million people visit the city’s cultural delights over the course of a normal calendar year.

But we’re not playing there. We’re at Lansdown, behind the Park & Ride, giving thanks that Covid has rendered the changing rooms temporarily uninhabitable, even though the council grants them a safety certificate on an otherwise annual basis. If you’d like a virtual guided tour of the stunning interior of Stalag Bath, drudge up the images of what you think a Siberian gulag might look like, remove the exterior fencing, guard dogs and grizzled men in furry hats and replace them with a very nice man in an orange waterproof who, despite your best efforts, manages to usher you inside and direct you to a wooden bench beneath a heavily graffitied wall. The biggest (and only other) difference however, is here they provide you with a key, whereas in northern Russia they’re more likely to throw it a considerable distance away.

So, no changing rooms means a bevy of pristine new tracksuits makes its way across the grass and round the blue-arrowed bend, with Masonic putting his Freemason’s tendencies to one side for a moment and offering to carry the tube of footballs up to the pitch. Along with Black Boots, he’s now our other favourite player.

There’s rain in the air and a fair breeze blowing across the exposed plateau on which we now find ourselves, which is the best weather we’ve ever encountered in this neck of the Somerset woods. Bath, like Rome, is apparently built on seven hills. This is the eighth. A few years ago, it blew a gale and hammered down non-stop for a three-hour tournament that saw just one goal scored in the last six games as everyone was too wet and cold to move. If that wasn’t enough, Coach Stalley arrived at the venue full of the many joys of Spring and sporting a full head of hair, but left in mid-afternoon with neither his mindset nor his barnet intact. It’s not just the gulag that’s a problem here….

Pitch-side, and Boris, Hurricane, No-name Steadman and Captain Cooper take pity on any casual observers by lifting their brand new snoods a good six inches higher than they are meant to be worn and, despite the miserable weather, everyone else feels immediately better as a result.

Game one sees a comfortable win over Bath B. No-name Steadman gives us the lead with his first goal of the season, Masonic follows suit and Monty Don makes it three as we take full advantage of the breeze and slope prior to the break. Captain Cooper,

taking his first substitute break of the season discovers he may have a future in punditry as he offers a series of erudite views on how the play is developing, though second half substitute Lidl refrains from saying anything bar four little words as he’s far too busy rummaging through the chocolate box for most of the second period. ‘Well done, Monty Don,’ is all he manages to utter between brown-tinged teeth as The Gardener plants his effort into the bottom corner to wrap up a 4-0 victory. ‘77.777% recurring,’ says Eagle, after the Man for all Seasons ticks off the centre back position from his ever-burgeoning ‘Play Everywhere’ list. ‘Hmph,’ humphs Smiffy, who for the second week running feels his elite standing in the decimal stakes listing is under imminent threat.

The day’s second encounter is against old rivals Plymouth who, as always, look to have a decent side once again this season. The Devonians, despite playing down the slope and having more of the possession, create few clear opportunities, with Black Boots Dix, Captain Cooper and the Hillview Hurricane looking solid at the back. Boris makes one close-range save before we take the lead when No-Name Steadman is fouled twenty yards out and Monty Don’s free kick finds the net via the underside of the bar.

The second half mirrors the first with Plymouth having more of the territory, but Gloucester extending their lead when No-Name’s corner deflects in off a Devonian boot. ‘Please,’ says No-Name. ‘Please what?’ replies Coach Wilson. ‘Please can that be my goal?’ pleads the midfielder. ‘Go away and make a tackle’ orders CW, which the midfielder duly does.

Three minutes from time however, Plymouth reduce the deficit and when the city defence fails to clear a last-minute corner, the Devon side grab the equaliser. ‘Please,’ repeats No-Name and finally sees his wish granted due to the coaches’ desire for peace and quiet to return to the camp and Steadman’s seasonal tally doubles in number. ‘Two,’ he says, proving just how impactful Dinglewell’s maths teaching must be. ‘I’ve now got two.’

Game three is against Gloucester B. There are no memorable highlights, no interesting vignettes and no sign of anyone adding to their goal tally. Well, not from our team, anyway. The only noteworthy incident is Eagle’s half time replacement of HB in the defensive midfield position and Smiffy’s immediate response. ’88.888% recurring,’ he hollers from two-foot away as the MfAS jogs across. ‘Okay, okay,’ replies Eagle, ‘but I haven’t even got there yet.’

So, with just one game against Bath A to go, we need to win to proceed to Finals Day, while Bath need only a draw to take second spot and send us to the end-of-season Plate competition instead.

We play down the slope in the first half and kick-off with a bit of real intent. Twice in the first ninety seconds efforts are scuffed wide, but when the Freemason presses the

Bath full back, the ball breaks to No-Name S, whose well struck effort hits the stanchion with such purity that the ball rebounds back out of the goal and we’re one-nil up. Four more presentable opportunities come and go before the turnaround and despite having ninety per cent of the possession, the half-time lead is a precariously slender one.

Fear not, however, as cometh the hour, cometh the man. Well, Two-Foot, anyway. Monty Don’s run and cross gives us two chances not to score, until Smiffy arrives on the scene to blast home from twenty four wonderful inches. ‘Millimetres,’ mumbles Coach Wilson, begrudgingly, but who’s measuring? The result of this super-strike is cathartic, though. Barely sixty seconds later, Two-Foot dances into the box to drive home from long range (nine yards), before The Grocer and The Gardener combine to add four more in the space of as many minutes, Lidl’s unselfishness twice allowing Monty Don to add to his tally, with Barnard’s fine through ball and Don’s determination to get a touch before the onrushing keeper providing the interim goal in a five-minute hat trick. There’s a rare in-game Beam from Smiler B and an even bigger beam from Black Boots Dix as he’s treated to a brief foray in centre midfield, No-Name Steadman making way for the closing minutes in search of a breather and an opportunity to practise his new-found command of European tongues. ‘Trois,’ he starts with. ‘Drei, Tres, Trzy, Tre, Harom, Kolm….’

So, from the ridiculous to the sublime in the space of no more than thirty footballing minutes. ‘Never in doubt,’ muses Captain Cooper as Boris checks to ensure that not a single hair has come out of place during the last two hours, before leaving his waterproof somewhere on Lansdown Fields. As we’re preparing to up sticks and wend our way back up the A46, Eagle suddenly flies off after a Kit Kat wrapper that’s blown halfway across Pitch Two, clearly harbouring ideas that Litter Picker may count as an additional position and his percentage increased to ninety with no decimal places. It won’t.

And No-Name Steadman prepares for a hero’s return to Dinglewell Junior, with tales of weekend homework that’s gone way beyond his teachers’ expectations. He’s off the mark, effected some doubling, seen applied science in action and learnt a little bit of Estonian in the process. Mrs Brogan will be absolutely delighted.

Gloucester: Boris; Hurricane, Captain Cooper, Black Boots; Two-Foot, Smiler, No-Name, Man for All Seasons, Monty Don; Freemason.