Dartford Celtic 2 - 2 Camden FC
17 December 2006 - Report by Robert Robinson
LAST GASP WHITEHEAD GOALS EARNS CAMDEN A POINT
Starting Lineup: Kev Wright, Ashley Cameron, Catty Catworthy (capt), Danny Ahern, Robinho Robinson, Leon Burge, Kaan Son, Little Chris, Lee Searle Searle, Young Benneth, Mickey Harvey. Subs: Jack Jones, Billy Nomates, Colin Todd, Jamie ‘brought me boots’ Carter
A scratch Camden FC outfit fought back from 2-0 down to snatch a dramatic late equaliser, leaving Dartford Celtic dumbfounded, Ben winded and the hapless referee thoroughly told off.
The usual staggered tardiness of a 9:45 meeting saw Catty arrive at Dartford rec, after having waited patiently for 5 minutes outside Château Robinho whilst the ginger Prince tried desperately to find his assorted footy stuff from a month of absence. Already assembled in one car park were the chariots of Leon Burgenhosen and Lee Searle Searle (not a typo, a new nickname), who soon met us in the adjoining krap rac as we chatted amiably to Benneth of Barnehurst (once more hungover from a house party where all manner of implements and ‘relationship aids’ were inserted onto/into/up a deep sleeping Jamie Carter). I have realised that this will take an age if continued at this pace and chronology, so we’ll fast forward…to the time in the changing room when realisation dawned that there were only 11 of us. Gulp…and again…Tactical wizardry from the gaffer saw us line up in an unfamiliar yet well-thought-out formation of vaguely 4-3-3/4-5-1 (depending on who is in possession) whereby Searles was flanked by Benneth on the left and Mickey on the right with Kaan sitting (and heading everything away from) the back four and Leon and Chris creative dynamism in front. It took a while for us to settle on this formation but we had our fair share of chances with Searle Searle having a rasper tipped over by their keeper to counter their lively frontline hitting our right post (then my shin pad on the line).
Poor Benny couldn’t quite get his legs to listen to his head and the pair had a torrid time keeping his frame upright, the combination sadly failing to connect with a nice cross field pass midway through the first half. Mickey Harvey cut a frustrated figure as a flick on ran through to noone (who had once more found space on the right wing!) and his exasperation came to a head as a free kick was given against him for failing to connect with the ball. Leon later recalled:“ lil' mikey was moaning to the ref and booked - as he said "yeah well done ref" and started to clap in the same motion he turned around and headbutted a celtic players shoulder with his bottom lip - quite comical and he was trying to hold back the tears.” The game continued to ebb and flow with some gallant defending and good midfield craft from both teams, until around the 40th minute, when some neat play saw one of their mob advancing towards Kev Wright and skillfully lobbing it onto the bar and in.
A half time recap of our formation and what we had to do (ie not lose again), the band of brothers returned to the battlefield suitably ready, only to be hit (literally) with a few heavy tackles, Mick (reigning most squished player) took a knock on both ankles within a 15 minute period, sandwiched between a Kev Wright crunching from a 50-50 (which Dan Ahern characteristically described to the referee as ‘a dastardly disgrace’ or words to that effect). Kev was wincing and writhing to such and extent that Rob ‘he loves diving’ Robinson took off his top and started re-living John Lukic highlights in his head.
Kev rose once more at the threat of me taking over his position permanently, but couldn’t kick anything again all day (his throws are actually better than most could kick anyway). Our new-found frailty was exploited from a succession of corners, one of which saw some lively baldie evade his marker and nut one in under pressure from Ashley (who had an otherwise solid game at centre back) who may well have got the final touch.
Where smelly grass is found (undeterred), the chaps refused to accept defeat and continued to press, with Benneth and Mike alternating their support with the ever-game Searley, who continued to attack down the right and centre a number of good crosses into Benneth who he was either just unable to get to or crowded out by their defence.
Their bravado was bolstered by the introduction of a gloved up (albeit briefly on request of their team captain) Mike Cunningham, still visibly struggling from last weekend’s stag do but fresh enough to instantly skin the comical Ginge, whose 7 minutes of madness at Princes park was almost eclipsed by this little episode. With Kev squished, our linesman (Chris’ dad) crippled and their attacks plentiful, perhaps 4 miles of ball-boy duties were undertaken by the willing Robinho.
He light-headedly staggered from one such foray to jog into the box to collect a goal kick from Ashley. Not in the rules but who cares, the ref did. A last ditch slide to prevent a shot saw the same ginger slide out of play, struggle up and promptly get hit by a wayward shot which was going metres wide. Corner. To complete the set, an easy crossfield ball was flicked on out of play to much derision. He did manage to get a few tackles in later as the battle of the little bighorn threatened down our left and foiling a one-on-one, and Leon also nutmegged said glove-boy, which pleased him. Anyway, enough about me (anyone would think this is the Itch Express), let’s get to our goals.
Kaany, having won every header all day but curling a nicely placed free kick wide, decided to get his dancing feet going evading 3 Celtics whilst covering the right (as Kev’s backpass route was closed in the form of 3 massive lumps on his knee) and soon after, a 50 yard chip (!) over the top saw Mike tearing though on goal, which may or may not have been where he scored into the roof of the net. I think that it wasn’t but Leon thinks it was. From a distance it looked a sublime finish, whilst Mike said that he scuffed it. Either way, game on!
The other team then proceeded to implode somewhat, telling each other to keep the ball yet faffing about and diving in all the time. Their captain took a knock to the thigh (cheers Kaany) and stood upfront, leaving them weaker and vulnerable to some good pressure. The second fattest player in the league (who had already annihilated Mike) was soon to prove their weakest link. After some neat interplay, a Leon cushion header to Ginge on the left was commemorated by an American football ‘sack’ by their very own Ginge. In mid-complain our far superior and bona fide ginge spotted a green-shirted rhino charging so pushed the ball past him before taking off for a two-footed fat man-induced Agahowa celebratory tumble. We shall call the ensuing carnage ‘heated’ and the ref (near clueless in his decision making thus far) gave him a stern word. So there.
Further to the now-infamous ‘pump it up’ declaration against Welling, Kaan trumped himself by upping the ante with ‘just run about’. The unofficial vice captain’s words did not fall on deaf ears, as all 8 Camden players in the box re-enacted what is called in Chemistry ‘Brownion motion’ (the random movement of gases in an enclosed space), the noxious mixture of confusion, defensive bafflement and a timely spark in Leon’s floated centre brought about an extended metaphorical explosion of said gases, Catty’s towering goalbound header pushed into the path of a grateful Benneth.
Under the guiding tutorship of Mike Harvey & Ginge’s combined exaltation to ‘have that you cnuts!’ there then followed an almighty celebration and 10 man bundle (Kev later assured the Bobby Bugle that he dived on himself up the other end!) the likes of which I cannot recall ever having participating in. It is pertinent to hereby mention that Ginge’s old man, having assumed Ciaran ball retrieval duties, did not see our first goal. When he saw our celebrations he looked on in puzzlement at our high-jinx and asked the nearest chap the score. When one of their mob obliged, he promptly broke out into a guttural belly laugh. Bet they enjoyed that.
Not content with a draw, Camden pressed but could not find the clincher. At the final whistle, an incandescent Chris congratulated the ref on a shocker and told him to quit henceforth, but walked away before he got booked. A great comeback from the chaps was accompanied by a deserved man of the match from Danny Ahern; who was impressive on the right once more.
The editorial team would like to wish all of you a heartily good Christmas and a jovial New Year. See you on the 23rd if not before. Can we also extend out our good wishes to Leon Burge who is soon to have his debt halved by the lovely Emma in a civil ceremony in Gretna Green. Well done chap.
FIN