Letters to Santa
There’s a nip in the air and a crispness underfoot and it’s nearly the same with the groundsman, though the aches and pains in his legs and feet of a fortnight ago have defied the laws of gravity and risen to his neck and throat.
The Chef is ten minutes late due to Friday’s night shift; his arrival though sees a welcome rise in temperature both in the kitchen and out, and by 9.30am we’ve reached a balmy Diana Ross and the thaw is in a state of perpetual motion.
The team sheets are in and Gloucester’s injury recovery rate has been logged via Opta Stats. Margaret is in prime position, his late Friday training session knock returning to normality within a matter of minutes. In second spot is The Weatherman, his recent bump ruling him out for a 48-hour period which included last week’s postponed trek to, in order of importance, Beaconsfield Services and St Albans. In third place is Nureyev for two separate reasons (i) he’s been out for the last three weeks with a relentlessly turning ankle and (ii) far more importantly, the Friday morning Sky Sports roller that advertised his return to full fitness has led directly to the absence of Scarface for today’s encounter versus Sutton, the WNP citing a Dinglewell-induced illness, though in reality his concerns relating to the October Bolshoi versus Wycombe and a fervent desire to maintain both his sanity and his looks for the forthcoming Xmas festivities have resulted in him giving today a self-preservatory miss.
The pre-match changing room is awash with fluorescence, though the return of Nureyev has seen a significant and welcome increase in the percentage of pairs of black boots worn by the squad to 27.3, though the proportion of pyjama-like leggings remains at 9.1, as Adichareh, wearing so many layers that any attempts at future acceleration are rendered a scientific impossibility, bulks up for the encounter ahead.
Billy, meanwhile, sports a fresh pair of ballet slippers that are not only horrifically chequered, but also personalised, albeit with the incorrect initials. On the other side of the room, Lisa is doing his level best to uphold all that is good and traditional as befits the season that is now upon us, when in addition to humming ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’ while pulling on the number five jersey, extricates a pair of beautifully simple black boots from the depths of his kitbag. Unfortunately they’re too small for him to wear (safely) and he pulls on a pair of luminous greens instead, while pleading earnestly, as with all the best Xmas excuses, that ‘It’s the thought that counts’.
Having missed the pre-dawn ‘Stadium Build’ due to leaving Gloucester at 7am in order to oversee Evesham U18’s fixture in Newcastle (under-Lyme), only to find the game called off a mile short of Junction 15 at 9am, (Head) Coach Stalley makes an unannounced appearance at the Home of Football, meaning technical expectations for the imminent confrontation rise noticeably. Five minutes later however Coach Harris makes an unannounced appearance, meaning any perceived expectation of technical application is balanced with kick and rush, and the status quo is thankfully maintained.
The Lens is busy clicking away and more photos of people in Santa hats are added to his ever-burgeoning ‘For Sale’ collection. Closer inspection of the pictures reveals all bar one of the team are at ease, though The Colonel is standing rigidly to attention in fervent anticipation of a top-to-toe inspection by Coach Stalley. Adichareh is wearing a smock-like waterproof to disguise his numerous thermal layers, while the Second Knight is the only player hard enough to play with bare knees, despite the sub zero wind chill being a thing of the past. Nine have both hands clasped behind their backs to conceal their furry mittens. One has both hands clasped behind his back despite never having considered wearing gloves, while secretly lamenting the fact that the showing of skin while playing the beautiful game is a thing of the dim and distant past.
78% of the Sutton playing squad arrive early, with the remaining 22% of competitors and 100% of coaching staff making the trip up the M4 in the expensively acquired Carshalton Private Hire mini bus, though there are so few people on board that privacy is the least of their worries. Despite their early-morning trek however, it’s the visitors that are in the ascendancy early on, with Kenny’s big strong hands making a fine save from Easthope’s free kick and Margaret clearing off the line from Jennings shortly afterwards.
Sutton take a fifteenth minute lead as Lee converts a spot kick, but Gloucester respond positively with Dele Adi seeing a deflected effort strike the crossbar following a fine overlapping run from Big Sam and Mustoe’s effort saved, with Big Sam again the provider after another innovative burst down the left.
With half time fast approaching, Billy’s right-wing flag kick is spectacularly volleyed into the top corner by Mustoe, sparking a celebratory charge down the left touchline in a parody reminiscent of the Pied Piper and his omnipresent pursuers.
The second period sees Gloucester enjoying the territorial advantage, with The Colonel causing problems for the visitors’ back line as Mustoe, Billy, Nureyev and the Second Knight begin to take control of the midfield area.
The Colonel is denied by an online defender with four minutes remaining, the second time in a fortnight that he’s been thwarted at the last, though it’s proved impossible to identify a single Service Station occasion when the same player has failed to get over the line when it comes to consuming a huge portion of seasoned hen that just fits into a red & white presentation box with a picture of some old fella wearing specs on the lid.
Thirty minutes after the players have departed, the changing room is being cleared of dirty shirts, shorts, socks and furry mittens, when four pieces of crumpled paper, which on closer inspection turn out to be letters, are discovered.
The first reads, ‘Dear Santa. All I’ve ever really wanted for Christmas is a pair of fluorescent orange, red and green boots, with BE1 on the left foot and BE2 on the right – just in case I forget which is which. I normally only stand on BE2.’ It ends, quite touchingly, ‘Forever yours,’ but hasn’t been signed.
The second script is just about readable, having quite obviously been written with an acutely-excited hand. ‘Dear Santa. I don’t want any presents for Christmas. I just want to go to school on Monday and tell everyone about my goal. I don’t want to stay at home, re-enacting everything a hundred times in front of my sister. Tell me Santa, why does Harewood have to break up early and all those other schools keep going for most of next week? Can I go to St Mary’s instead? Or Hempsted? Or, if all else fails, Longlevens? Oh please, Santa. Please....’ There is no signature.
The third letter reads, ‘Dear Santa. I really need to improve my weather forecasting. Can you help?’ There is no reply and, realistically, little hope.
The final letter boasts by far the best handwriting of the lot. It says, ‘Dear Santa. All I want for Christmas is a pair of proper black boots; no frills, no fluorescence and no lettering, just like Big Sam’s. I don’t care where they’re from, even Sports Direct or Matalan will do.’ Unlike the other three letters there’s a signature, crafted in copperplate and perfected with quill. The writer needs no introduction. The signature at the end reads, quite simply, ‘Big Joe.’
Gloucester: Kenny; Michael Fish, Margaret, Big Sam; Sizzler, Nureyev, Billy BS, Knees Knight; Dele Adi; The Colonel. Psychologist: Scarface (absent); Bag man: Sargeant (absent).
The Chef is ten minutes late due to Friday’s night shift; his arrival though sees a welcome rise in temperature both in the kitchen and out, and by 9.30am we’ve reached a balmy Diana Ross and the thaw is in a state of perpetual motion.
The team sheets are in and Gloucester’s injury recovery rate has been logged via Opta Stats. Margaret is in prime position, his late Friday training session knock returning to normality within a matter of minutes. In second spot is The Weatherman, his recent bump ruling him out for a 48-hour period which included last week’s postponed trek to, in order of importance, Beaconsfield Services and St Albans. In third place is Nureyev for two separate reasons (i) he’s been out for the last three weeks with a relentlessly turning ankle and (ii) far more importantly, the Friday morning Sky Sports roller that advertised his return to full fitness has led directly to the absence of Scarface for today’s encounter versus Sutton, the WNP citing a Dinglewell-induced illness, though in reality his concerns relating to the October Bolshoi versus Wycombe and a fervent desire to maintain both his sanity and his looks for the forthcoming Xmas festivities have resulted in him giving today a self-preservatory miss.
The pre-match changing room is awash with fluorescence, though the return of Nureyev has seen a significant and welcome increase in the percentage of pairs of black boots worn by the squad to 27.3, though the proportion of pyjama-like leggings remains at 9.1, as Adichareh, wearing so many layers that any attempts at future acceleration are rendered a scientific impossibility, bulks up for the encounter ahead.
Billy, meanwhile, sports a fresh pair of ballet slippers that are not only horrifically chequered, but also personalised, albeit with the incorrect initials. On the other side of the room, Lisa is doing his level best to uphold all that is good and traditional as befits the season that is now upon us, when in addition to humming ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’ while pulling on the number five jersey, extricates a pair of beautifully simple black boots from the depths of his kitbag. Unfortunately they’re too small for him to wear (safely) and he pulls on a pair of luminous greens instead, while pleading earnestly, as with all the best Xmas excuses, that ‘It’s the thought that counts’.
Having missed the pre-dawn ‘Stadium Build’ due to leaving Gloucester at 7am in order to oversee Evesham U18’s fixture in Newcastle (under-Lyme), only to find the game called off a mile short of Junction 15 at 9am, (Head) Coach Stalley makes an unannounced appearance at the Home of Football, meaning technical expectations for the imminent confrontation rise noticeably. Five minutes later however Coach Harris makes an unannounced appearance, meaning any perceived expectation of technical application is balanced with kick and rush, and the status quo is thankfully maintained.
The Lens is busy clicking away and more photos of people in Santa hats are added to his ever-burgeoning ‘For Sale’ collection. Closer inspection of the pictures reveals all bar one of the team are at ease, though The Colonel is standing rigidly to attention in fervent anticipation of a top-to-toe inspection by Coach Stalley. Adichareh is wearing a smock-like waterproof to disguise his numerous thermal layers, while the Second Knight is the only player hard enough to play with bare knees, despite the sub zero wind chill being a thing of the past. Nine have both hands clasped behind their backs to conceal their furry mittens. One has both hands clasped behind his back despite never having considered wearing gloves, while secretly lamenting the fact that the showing of skin while playing the beautiful game is a thing of the dim and distant past.
78% of the Sutton playing squad arrive early, with the remaining 22% of competitors and 100% of coaching staff making the trip up the M4 in the expensively acquired Carshalton Private Hire mini bus, though there are so few people on board that privacy is the least of their worries. Despite their early-morning trek however, it’s the visitors that are in the ascendancy early on, with Kenny’s big strong hands making a fine save from Easthope’s free kick and Margaret clearing off the line from Jennings shortly afterwards.
Sutton take a fifteenth minute lead as Lee converts a spot kick, but Gloucester respond positively with Dele Adi seeing a deflected effort strike the crossbar following a fine overlapping run from Big Sam and Mustoe’s effort saved, with Big Sam again the provider after another innovative burst down the left.
With half time fast approaching, Billy’s right-wing flag kick is spectacularly volleyed into the top corner by Mustoe, sparking a celebratory charge down the left touchline in a parody reminiscent of the Pied Piper and his omnipresent pursuers.
The second period sees Gloucester enjoying the territorial advantage, with The Colonel causing problems for the visitors’ back line as Mustoe, Billy, Nureyev and the Second Knight begin to take control of the midfield area.
The Colonel is denied by an online defender with four minutes remaining, the second time in a fortnight that he’s been thwarted at the last, though it’s proved impossible to identify a single Service Station occasion when the same player has failed to get over the line when it comes to consuming a huge portion of seasoned hen that just fits into a red & white presentation box with a picture of some old fella wearing specs on the lid.
Thirty minutes after the players have departed, the changing room is being cleared of dirty shirts, shorts, socks and furry mittens, when four pieces of crumpled paper, which on closer inspection turn out to be letters, are discovered.
The first reads, ‘Dear Santa. All I’ve ever really wanted for Christmas is a pair of fluorescent orange, red and green boots, with BE1 on the left foot and BE2 on the right – just in case I forget which is which. I normally only stand on BE2.’ It ends, quite touchingly, ‘Forever yours,’ but hasn’t been signed.
The second script is just about readable, having quite obviously been written with an acutely-excited hand. ‘Dear Santa. I don’t want any presents for Christmas. I just want to go to school on Monday and tell everyone about my goal. I don’t want to stay at home, re-enacting everything a hundred times in front of my sister. Tell me Santa, why does Harewood have to break up early and all those other schools keep going for most of next week? Can I go to St Mary’s instead? Or Hempsted? Or, if all else fails, Longlevens? Oh please, Santa. Please....’ There is no signature.
The third letter reads, ‘Dear Santa. I really need to improve my weather forecasting. Can you help?’ There is no reply and, realistically, little hope.
The final letter boasts by far the best handwriting of the lot. It says, ‘Dear Santa. All I want for Christmas is a pair of proper black boots; no frills, no fluorescence and no lettering, just like Big Sam’s. I don’t care where they’re from, even Sports Direct or Matalan will do.’ Unlike the other three letters there’s a signature, crafted in copperplate and perfected with quill. The writer needs no introduction. The signature at the end reads, quite simply, ‘Big Joe.’
Gloucester: Kenny; Michael Fish, Margaret, Big Sam; Sizzler, Nureyev, Billy BS, Knees Knight; Dele Adi; The Colonel. Psychologist: Scarface (absent); Bag man: Sargeant (absent).
