The plan was fine. You couldn't fault the plan.
Meet at the Cambridge Blue at 7pm for a post-game team-bonder. Burger, a few pints with the lads, some gentle camaraderie and home by midnight, all ready for a quiet Sunday spent relaxing with a selection of exotic soft fruits.
If there was a problem, I guess you could say that we adapted to new circumstances badly. The plan was rather predicated on the burger. The lovely, beer-absorbing burger. The food of the gods, on which many an M2s team social is based. The fact that the Blue wasn't serving food on Saturday night came as something of a blow. The cunning solution of 'let's just have crisps?' did seem bold at the time, not least because our ex-Royston contingent had already been 'out' since teas, and our game had been at 1.30pm.
So it was that Oven's spectacles later ended up in the region of NBM's *insert something that sounds a bit like spectacles*, subsequently re-appearing from his trousers less one of the lenses, which still remains unfound notwithstanding a rather thorough personal search in the Grain Store. Even later, Jack Chalk and I were to be found in the Regal, engaged in a battle of whom could dance the more awkwardly, a competition in which I assure you there were no winners.
Prior to that, we'd ground out a gritty 0-0 at Long Road against a decent Bury St Edmunds outfit. The first half was a relatively even affair of few chances, and our half-team team talk was based around the need to be just a little more patient in possession and then domination would surely follow. We managed this for three or four minutes before becoming under siege for the remainder of the game.
Darren was our standout performer, with one double-save a real highlight. The defence also managed to deflect a couple of other goal-bound efforts and for the most part did so with our sticks. Chris Matson was a lucky boy. That's all I'm saying.
After the game, James Mathews somehow avoided a lemon vote despite breaking the sacred rule that no more than an absolute maximum of three can be allowed in the Long Road showers at any one time, lest we all suffer. That man needs to study his Jeremy Bentham.