History
Hedge-To-Hedge Football
“I wouldn’t say that we’re the worst football team in Bristol” announces The Colonel (known to his mum as Andy Purnell), stalwart player with Bristol footballing legends Easton Monday, as he piles up a large chunk of poppadum with diced onion, chutney, a splash of yolk-yellow yoghurt and gracefully stuffs it into his mouth. by Cris Warren of The Bristol Evening Post
“I would” comes the almost proud chorus from his three team-mates, Tom Adams, Pete Stillman and Steve Jones, the latter the star centre forward and Monday’s team captain this season. It’s difficult to translate Colonel’s response through the crunching but it appears to be some kind of begrudging resignation to the fact.
Gathered in a local curry house and tucking into health giving bowls of madras, rice, naan bread and jugs of ale from the pub next door, the Monday team-mates don’t immediately strike you as dedicated and focused athletes in their prime. So it’s a good thing they’re not. In fact the Monday, who play on Sundays, have an average age (“and weight”, chips in Tom”) of “thirty-something” and as for focus and dedication, says the Colonel, “it’s nearly always a case of being on the phone all Saturday night begging and cajoling people to turn up. Even then you get to the pitch and some haven’t got out of bed. We’ve had to play as nine, and that’s including someone we borrowed from another team who brought his son along. We still won it convincingly though, against an eleven strong team. It’s moments like that that make it all worth it.”
As one of the oldest established teams in Bristol’s Casual League, Easton Monday have enjoyed a decade long amateur footballing career that, says Pete “is best described as gradually descending”.
“In a nutshell” explains the Colonel “The Casual League is the league in Bristol for anyone too old, too fat and too lacking in anything approaching prowess on the football field…people like us. It’s really just an excuse to play football with your mates, but instead of jumpers for goalposts we’ve got proper goalposts and a kit. Easton Monday have been in the Casual for a long time and we started in the premiership. As it’s grown we’ve gradually slipped and now we’re in the third
division…”
“That’s quite an achievement” announces Steve, “I mean, it is pretty hard getting everyone to turn up.”
Pete agrees, “I think it’s a blessing, If everybody did turn up who said they would we’d be right at the bottom of the league rather than just near it. We’d probably have to start our own league.”
“The Bristol Knackered?” Suggests Colonel.
“We’d be back in a premiership, though” says Tom, warming to the idea. In about two weeks from now the Monday meet Casual premiership aces PSST (Primary and Secondary School Teachers) in the quarter final of the Harry Mottram cup - Harry Mottram being the founder of the league in 1995.
Seven are here to cover the run up to what’s promised by Pete to be, “an exciting morning of flying mud, lost balls - both kinds, and some interesting tackles.” Colonel, to whom team trategy has been assigned to on account of the fact that he managed to acquire the dashing blue
strip, thinks that it’s a good idea to get the press onside early on. “It’s psychology, we’re having a newspaper feature written about us, they’re not. That’s bound to give us an edge, let’s face it” grinning in turn at Pete and Tom, “we haven’t got a lot of other options.” So is the mood in the Monday camp one of impending gloom. “Well the great thing about football at any level” says Tom “is that you just never can tell what’s going to happen in a match. The unpredictability
is what makes the game so beautiful. But in our case, yes, I should think we’ll probably lose. The thing is when you win it’s brilliant and worth every moment, but there’s more to it than that..”
“like?” asks Pete
“The pub afterwards?”
As Alex Fergusson won’t tell you, the trouble with curry fuelled pre-match analysis is that the outcome is frequently the complete opposite of the heated speculation. And that’s certainly the case with the Monday whose predictions of utter defeat materialise as a seven-nil triumph at the quarter final Harry Mottram cup match against PSST.
You join a shivering Seven on the sidelines of the Axa Sun Life sports ground. Any energy caused by the mounting tension of waiting for the game to start is re-routed to the stamping of feet and blowing of hot breath into cupped hands in frenzied attempts by spectators trying to keep warm.
Finally Easton Monday , swinging kit bags and wearing dark jackets and woolly hats, make an heroic entrance onto the sidelines. We say ‘heroic’, actually it’s more like the original line-up of Dexy’s Midnight Runners, without the running bit. Or a tight pumping Northern Soul back beat.
We spy the Monday’s stalwarts: Tom, Pete, The Colonel and Steve all gleaming, looking like they’ve passed a late fatness test. Although Pete is trying hard to conceal his disappointment on learning he’s to be confined to the sub’s bench for the match. Teeth gritted, focused like a coiled tiger ready to strike, Colonel reveals to Seven that this is his last season in the Monday blue and his only chance of a medal. Both teams take to the field, like farmers about to raise a potato crop, Easton Monday from the third division, PSST from the first. A last drag of a fag and a toke on an asthma inhaler and they’re ready to rumble.
Over to our Easton Monday correspondent, team founder, former player-manager and official mouthpiece Chris Badley for his insightful and not at all biased match report.
Kick off
With Easton Monday taking at least ten minutes to get out of their own half, a giant killing today looking far from likely. PSST’s tactic of keeping the ball away from their grey-haired contingent paid dividends, early doors winning them corner after corner.
Finally the Monday trespassed beyond the halfway line and, with PSST’s early rhythm disturbed, Monday began to win the midfield battle. As the game opened up, Monday attacked with Colonel getting in among the defenders and rocking the woodwork with an impudent turn and chip.
He looks like an Italian, plays like and Italian and eats a lot of Italian, looking uncannily like a younger Pavarotti.
Then came first blood to the rabid underdogs as EM’s Chris, the Arthurian wing wizard, burned down the left, putting a looping ball over for Deano to head sweetly home at the far post.
The PSST goalie (inexplicably wearing a baseball cap on top of a woolly hat) bawled at his defence, but far from stinging PSST into action, the goal seemed to act as a tranquilliser and just two minutes later Deano larruped the ball into the net.
It was unusually late in the first half when the ball was kicked into the hedge bordering the playing field. ‘Keep talking, concentrate,’ the Monday were now urging themselves as a PSST player trudged off to retrieve the ball, fearing mass catalepsy at any minute.
But consciousness did not desert them as Ash broke from his own half to score a magnificent Maradonna-esque solo goal.
Hedge-To-Hedge football
It was Mondays turn now to put the ball into the other hedge. This was more like Casual League standard - hedge-to-hedge football. With no one particularly wanting the ball the ref blew for half time five minutes early.
Second Half
PSST scored directly after the restart - but in their own net. Their attention was clearly on the mountain of marking the footballing teachers had left for Sunday afternoon.
On the hour, Ash threw his left peg at the ball - four nil - five nil according to the linesman, I must have blinked. Whatever, this was becoming a rout.
Colonel was still missing chances but he was leading the line like a man possessed, forcing another corner and goal number six from Ash’s glancing header - his hat trick.
And at last it came, the moment of high comedy that only the Casuals League can produce when the hardest shot of the game smashed into the groin of the unsuspecting PSST defender, adding bruised testicles to already bruised egos. The on-looking defenders were guilty of balls watching as their team mate dropped to the ground leaving Ash free to score his fourth.
Finally the game ended as only a Casual’s game can. A clearly angered PSST centre half cleared the ball well beyond the hedge this time and with the search for the ball abandoned, the ref blew for full time. Maybe PSST would’ve won on another day, but today they were rumbled,
humbled and completely crumbled.
Man of the Match? Colonel for old-timer’s sake, with the elusive medal now just two games away.
Past Seasons
2008-9
HARRY MOTTRAM CUP: Winners!
LEAGUE: (season incomplete) Played 9: Won 6, Lost 2, Drawn 1
PLAYER OF THE SEASON: (Sir) Lee John
GOLDEN BOOT: Felix Francis
2007-8
The season that didn't want to end - league title finally retained in September.
LEAGUE: Winners... Played 10 Won 10 lost 0 (huzzah!)
PLAYER OF THE SEASON: Pete Stillman
GOLDEN BOOT: Pete Sheridan (ad nauseum)
PLAYERS' PLAYERS OF THE SEASON: Pete Stillman
