With a European Champions league position to play for, the scene was set on a forgotten field somewhere in Eastbourne.  Tariq had ridden a German beast hard all night to get to the game to umpire and indeed had burnt his leg on her hot pipe; Tim S had been volunteered as Captain. The Saints team, a mish-mash of Plumbers, Decorators, Teachers, Upholstery Stuffers and Pillow Makers, were up against the collective might of the Semi professionals of Eastbourne.   Tim C was AWOL as he had previously had some history with one of them and refused to settle his account on the grounds that the midget had turned up too late.

Thanks to our travelling support being bolstered my the local Sussex Erotic Shaped Vegetable Contest being conducted in the adjacent field, the game seem more like a home fixture. Alan D had earlier been presented with the fattest Marrow, 2nd in Class.

The game commenced 30 minutes late, the boys warming themselves with a team hug and some hot cocoa, laced with the sweet, yet surprisingly bitter taste of honey.

The Saints were under immediate pressure, with Eastbourne peppering Chan's Box and slipping in 2 within the first 30 minutes.  All seemed lost at half time, with the boys heads down, making their collective way to the club-house for the half time chat.  Mary Melons, the half sister, twice removed, of Mrs. Biggins arrived just in time.  With her wealth of experience of fighting back when under pressure, learnt whilst working amongst the French during the Napoleonic conflict.   The boys seemed be to reassured that not all was lost.  TimS was seen to puff on a cigar and warm a brandy glass, and with an air of Churchill, he recited sonnets from Henry V, prior to the battle of Agincourt. The massed bands of the Household Division appeared from behind the goal, playing classics like Jerusalem, The Jazz Singer and Has Anyone seen my Puppies?

The second half commenced, the boys were a different side, playing with confidence and style, not seen for years in the Saints.  The senior members leading the way beginning to dominate the game.  Although the game was end to end, Chan was not really called upon, so decided to go shopping and left a blow up doll as a substitute.  It was noted later that John W was seen taking the doll into the shower, insisting that he help Chan take off is pads.

With EG pressing home every attack with vigor, the goals started to roll in.  Tom as always, leading the attack like a lone wolf searching for his next meal.  In quick succession, EG were on level terms.  A little more petrol was doused onto the fire and we began to stretch our lead.  As is now a habit, Henry went down for about 3 minutes, only surfacing when he managed to gulp in a breath, following a nasty collision with the ground, which was stationary at the time.  With the final whistle only 30 seconds away and the Saints 5-2 up, the lights went off.  Eastbourne had forgotten to put money in the meter, which was surprising as they were all semi professionals.

In the confusion of the darkness, shouts were heard as John W wrestled with Chan's life-like inflatable doll.

No cards were shown, the game played in good spirit and we all returned to the warmth of the clubhouse for a rub down and a shave.