The team before the game had even commenced, were struck down with pulled muscles, man flu and one member was lost, presumed missing in action, after last being seen slurping on Mrs. Miggin's renowned lemon syllabub in a bordello north of Bromsgrove. 

 

The game, when it eventually started, was more representative of the Siege of Mafeking, with only 9 players present and correct.  Copious amounts of pre-match Sloe Gin, helped to raise morale.  Although most members of the side only needed a sip of the heavenly nectar, Mike insisted on carrying the bottle around with him, purely for medical reasons.  Tbag, John and Crems arrived like three Knights in rusty chain-mail, with the Saints already 2 to the deficit.  Chan was busier than an A&E doctor on New Year's Eve ...

 

The half time whistle came to the rescue of the boys. As promised, Mrs.Betty Bimshaw produced her Gammon slices, into which she has previously dipped and pickled them in her husband's specially prepared medical receptacle.  A welcomed surprise visit by Mrs. Marmiduke's daughter, herself producing some tasty, but very chewy sticky moist muffins.  Gary announced that he would devour her muffin later, in private, in the warmth of his people carrier in the car park.  Steve Nash was substituted, as he had mysteriously developed and subsequently produced a hair ball.  Rumours are that he's knitting Mrs.Miggin's a winter warmer and a moustache holder.  As always the welcomed visits by all, helped to raise the team's focus and realization about the mountain they all had to climb..

 

Several tactical changes were made, the game commenced, battle lines were drawn, the enemy identified, weapons of war were chosen, the crowed [Steve Watson] felt something in the air....Alan had rubbed on his injured leg some Tiger balm, but because of his Arthritis, and the cold inclement conditions, some of the balm had been accidentally smeared onto the more sensitive regions of his anatomy.  The result of which manifested in Alan running the 100m in 9.08 seconds, a record for the Saints.  

 

The Saints, then started to play with a little more confidence and began to dominate the game, scoring 2 goals in quick succession.  The clock was ticking away, time was running out, players were being thrown forward in an attempt to finish off the game, this tactic inevitably resulted in the opposition scoring again on the break, just before the final whistle was blown and the team dejectedly returned to the warm bosom of the club's bar to drown it's collective spirits.

 

The man of the Match was Dr.Kevin Hurrell [MD], who was giant like in defence [He was marking a pigmy Indian from the Cumsolighty tribe of Patagonia].