Wick Burn Barely Out

Wick 4 Barely Athletic 3

Goal: Tom

Defence: Batts, Danny, Scott

Midfield: Adam, Jacko, Pete, Paul L, Sam

Attack: Richie, Christov

Subs: Paul T, Mike, Colin

With the incessant rain providing thematic backdrop to Barely's season so far, the planned game at Wick's home ground was moved to an astroturf pitch somewhere in East Bristol. Locals Batts and Adam were on home turf - the rest of the squad were at the mercy of the GPS.

Barely have a decent track record playing on astroturf - they've meted out hidings to people in the past. But the past is, of course, a different country, and the last time Barely took to a synthetic surface they took a beating themselves. This time they hoped things would be different - they actually had subs.

Barely began the game on the back foot - probably a good sign, as breaking from tradition might have confused everybody. But thanks to the efforts of a rugged back three - Scott filling in for Ian in the rumbustious challenge department - and the adroitness of Tom in goal, Barely saw off the early surges and worked their way into the game. However they couldn't quite work their way into the goal, as an equally-rugged Wick back line produced a fine line in quick feet and cool heads. Barely's glimpses of goal were half-chances, or belted from distance like Sam's effort, which was unfortunately straight at the keeper.

Then disaster! For all Wick's elegant midfield play they scored in the most inelegant manner, bundling home a corner as it pinged around in the Barely box like a rubber hand-grenade. Could this be the start of the latest collapse?

No. Barely instead scored a lovely goal, from one end of the pitch to the other with Richie clipping a fine ball to Adam, who looped a cracking finish over the keeper from an acute angle. All Barely needed to do was keep a clean sheet until half-time... but disaster! Another Wick attack down Barely's left ended with the ball at the feet of an attacker on the edge of the box - he swept it in gracefully around Tom, and it was back to square one.

Jacko had already brought Paul T on in his stead at half-time and made no further changes in the break. Barely were playing pretty well on the whole, and their was an air of tentative optimism, the kind David Moyes' wife might have if United make the champions league this season.

If Wick edged the first half it's fair to say the second was a more even affair, with Christov and Richie seeing more of the ball, running at the Wick defense and causing a bit of panic. Richie had a shot into the side netting and set a chance up for Paul Loftus, sliding in Gazza-style, who put it just wide. Both teams were threatening though and Tom was busy. And then disaster! - it was Wick who got their third that seemed to put the nail in the coffin - 3-1 with less than a quarter of the game to go.

But then out of nowhere Barely scored the type of goal that gets tight-trousered pundits purring on Match of the Day: Scott and Sam combined on the left, Richie turned in the box, somebody (Adam?) threaded the ball to Jacko as he scampered through the back line - and showed immense composure in  chipping it to the back post, where Richie volleyed in. An absolute delight and the best team goal this correspondent has seen since those halcyon days of the Lilford-Fry-Jackson triumvirate.... ah, that was a triumvirate, that was... where was I?

Oh yes, so it was 3-2 and then Wick went up the other end and - disaster! - scored again. Everyone on one side of the pitch thought it was offside but Danny - now running the line on the other - kept his flag down, later saying it was "close", with an admirable air of Zen. Now it was 4-2 in Wick's favour, and with time ticking away like time tends to do, Christov's lovely through-ball and Adam's calm finish for 4-3 was just too late in the day. The horse had bolted. The ship had sailed. The baby was sitting in an empty bath, looking pissed off.

It was a grim result but a good game played in the right spirit. Everybody contributed but as well as the usual suspects (Richie, Adam, Tom) and man-of-the-match Batts there were a some of stand-out performances from Scott and Colin in defense, and Paul's recruit Pete made himself known in the midfield. Added to the calm and guile of Jacko and Paul T, the mercurial feet of Christov and it added up to a good performance - man of the match voting went to seven candidates.

But the end result was a disaster.