Prophecy
He stares intently at the grey skies above. He inspects the cloud formations with an educated eye. He logs both ‘Stratus’ and ‘Stratocumulus’ in the meteorological section of his brain, the very same chamber that ornithologists use for classifying anything with a relative resembling the population of Slimbridge (Wildfowl Trust, that is). ‘Definitely no sunglasses,’ confirms young Teddy Peirce, as we congregate in the Longlevens car park at precisely 7.36am.
Chieveley Services is one of our favourite stop-off points and hopefully it’ll become one of the players’ favourites too, as we’re back here on Thursday morning. Mitchell, forsaking the throng that inspects every other offering in WH Smith, instead joins a queue twice the length in anticipation of a freshly-baked Gregg’s pastry. Across the way, Franks keeps up his hundred per cent record of relinquishing the opportunity of visiting the toilet in preference to taking a mooch in the general direction of Burger King. Nureyev, meanwhile, just mooches. Outside, the sun is shining brightly, though Peirce, who insists on sitting with his back to the windows, steadfastly refuses to acknowledge the current lack of cloud cover beyond the big glass partition.
There are road works in Pangbourne and the queue stretches nearly half a mile back beneath a wonderful, cloudless sky, so the kick-off at the well appointed Oratory School is delayed by a few minutes. Not a problem and Gloucester have the better of the first half despite playing against the wind, with Mustoe looking busy down the right while initiating many of the opening period’s better attacking opportunities. From one such pass, Adichareh, not for the first time breaks clear and from his cross, Scarface arrives to notch his first goal of the season at the back post. Nureyev runs over to the celebratory huddle full of intent, thinks better of it and pats the goalscorer on the head instead, realising no doubt that discretion is sometimes preferable, particularly when everyone else is watching.
The PPK rearguard is impressive once again, resulting in Franks having only one direct save to make throughout the game, the keeper doing well just before the interval to keep out Gaffney’s looping effort before The Weatherman completes the clearance.
Half time arrives, as does the second supporters coach, the passengers having stopped off for an Arlo’s ‘full English in the pan’ before getting caught in the Pangbourne chicane. At least they enjoyed the breakfast.
With the wind changing direction, the city side play against it for the second half running as the hosts push forward determinedly in search of a leveller. Mustoe, the First Knight, Nureyev and Scarface all work hard to quell the threat, while the Alliance stand firm with Pargeter making one great tackle to prevent a clear shooting opportunity and Kelly competing with customary vigour to his left. At the other end Mitchell is twice denied by the keeper who also turns an effort from the First Knight round the post following a trademark jinking run.
Five minutes from time however, a poor clearance is seized upon by Mitchell who doubles Gloucester’s advantage and with the last kick of the game, the First Knight, with the sun dazzling both defenders and attackers alike, ballet-shoes in a corner that eludes everyone to find the net via the inside of the back post. Peirce, though happy with the goal and the victory, grimaces surreptitiously as he realises the irony of the situation.
With the warm-down completed and the final Jaffa cake eaten, the sky turns suddenly grey and the remnants of a random Cumulonimbus deposits a flurry of well deserved moisture on Peirce’s head. Ironic, yes. Proverbial, probably. Because as most forecasters know, the sun only shines on the righteous.
Gloucester: Franks; Michael Fish, Pargeter, Kelly; Mustoe, Nureyev, Billy Ballet Shoes, Scarface; Adichareh; Mitchell. Attendance: 39 (8½ away)
Chieveley Services is one of our favourite stop-off points and hopefully it’ll become one of the players’ favourites too, as we’re back here on Thursday morning. Mitchell, forsaking the throng that inspects every other offering in WH Smith, instead joins a queue twice the length in anticipation of a freshly-baked Gregg’s pastry. Across the way, Franks keeps up his hundred per cent record of relinquishing the opportunity of visiting the toilet in preference to taking a mooch in the general direction of Burger King. Nureyev, meanwhile, just mooches. Outside, the sun is shining brightly, though Peirce, who insists on sitting with his back to the windows, steadfastly refuses to acknowledge the current lack of cloud cover beyond the big glass partition.
There are road works in Pangbourne and the queue stretches nearly half a mile back beneath a wonderful, cloudless sky, so the kick-off at the well appointed Oratory School is delayed by a few minutes. Not a problem and Gloucester have the better of the first half despite playing against the wind, with Mustoe looking busy down the right while initiating many of the opening period’s better attacking opportunities. From one such pass, Adichareh, not for the first time breaks clear and from his cross, Scarface arrives to notch his first goal of the season at the back post. Nureyev runs over to the celebratory huddle full of intent, thinks better of it and pats the goalscorer on the head instead, realising no doubt that discretion is sometimes preferable, particularly when everyone else is watching.
The PPK rearguard is impressive once again, resulting in Franks having only one direct save to make throughout the game, the keeper doing well just before the interval to keep out Gaffney’s looping effort before The Weatherman completes the clearance.
Half time arrives, as does the second supporters coach, the passengers having stopped off for an Arlo’s ‘full English in the pan’ before getting caught in the Pangbourne chicane. At least they enjoyed the breakfast.
With the wind changing direction, the city side play against it for the second half running as the hosts push forward determinedly in search of a leveller. Mustoe, the First Knight, Nureyev and Scarface all work hard to quell the threat, while the Alliance stand firm with Pargeter making one great tackle to prevent a clear shooting opportunity and Kelly competing with customary vigour to his left. At the other end Mitchell is twice denied by the keeper who also turns an effort from the First Knight round the post following a trademark jinking run.
Five minutes from time however, a poor clearance is seized upon by Mitchell who doubles Gloucester’s advantage and with the last kick of the game, the First Knight, with the sun dazzling both defenders and attackers alike, ballet-shoes in a corner that eludes everyone to find the net via the inside of the back post. Peirce, though happy with the goal and the victory, grimaces surreptitiously as he realises the irony of the situation.
With the warm-down completed and the final Jaffa cake eaten, the sky turns suddenly grey and the remnants of a random Cumulonimbus deposits a flurry of well deserved moisture on Peirce’s head. Ironic, yes. Proverbial, probably. Because as most forecasters know, the sun only shines on the righteous.
Gloucester: Franks; Michael Fish, Pargeter, Kelly; Mustoe, Nureyev, Billy Ballet Shoes, Scarface; Adichareh; Mitchell. Attendance: 39 (8½ away)
