‘Twas (almost) the night before Christmas, and old Ebenezer Vinny Cibardo was lightly dozing in his armchair, having consumed a considerable amount of mulled Madri. Suddenly he was aware of a ghostly figure hovering nearby. Jerking awake, he shouted “Oy Sod off, get your own!” The ghostly figure looked to the skies, and assured old Vinny that he only touched Guiness Zero these days. “Then who the f**k are you, and what do you want?”, said our hero, in his usual silken tones. The ghostly figure sighed, and said “Do you not recognise me? I am the Ghost of Sir Richardson Evans, and I am here to grant you three wishes”. “Cheers”, said Cibardo, then, after a moment’s thought, continued “Hang on, aren’t you in the wrong Christmas Story?”
“Do you want these wishes or not?” replied the ghost, clearly pissed off with the smart-arse.
“Apologies, if these wishes are free I’ll have some of that”.
“Right, what’s first up?” said the ghost, who by now was beginning to show signs of mud and dog mess, having forgotten to wear long studs and wandered across Pitch 11.
“Ok, how about zero drop-outs for tomorrow’s game against Fusion?” said Vinny.
“Bloody hell, who do you think I am, Jesus Christ? I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll pick Lisa Manley up so she arrives in time. Ok?”
“Fair enough, can’t ask much more than that”.
“What’s your second wish, and don’t take the piss this time”.
“How about someone to run the line?”
“Hmm, another tough one, eh?” said the ghost, who for some reason was now entangled in goal nets and padlocked into the crowd barrier wrapped around his torso. “I shall cast a spell which makes the elf Elena volunteer for the umpteenth time this season, though I suspect she’s getting a bit cheesed off with this.”
“Perfect”, said Vinny, “ready for number three?”
“Go on, but don’t get cocky.”
“Well, we face a tough task against Fusion tomorrow, who beat us 7-0 recently. How about making their forwards have the feet of donkeys for the first 15 minutes, so they miss any chances that fall their way and allow us to feel our way into the game?!”
“At last, something feasible” said Sir Richardson, who now appeared drenched and shivering having strayed through the Clubhouse showers. “I’m a bit short of donkey feet, so horse hooves will have to do. After that, you’re on your own.”
And so Vinny drifted into a contented sleep, but not before a few brandies had topped up the Madri.
****
The next morning, as Vinny strolled around Pitch 3, he reflected on a vague memory of the night before. Was the ghostly apparition real, or had Brad slipped something into the Madri? Only time would tell. So it was with some shock that, indeed, Lisa turned up on time, carried there by a strange two-wheeled chariot, which required her to wear a bright red helmet to warn other road users of her presence. Vinny chuckled to himself, while also cursing that he hadn’t mentioned Dani Cardoso to the ghost.
Some half-an-hour later as the kick-off neared, our hero uttered his weekly cry “I need someone to run the line ladies”, bracing himself for the usual deafening silence and the tumbleweed rolling across the pitch. Imagine his surprise when, as forecast, the elfin Elena once again stepped forward, holding the Flag of Boredom in her hand. Hardly able to contain himself, Vinny now optimistically looked forward to the game itself, to see if the third of his wishes would also come true.
And so it came to pass that Fusion missed three very presentable chances in the first 15 minutes, variously peppering the corner flags and the enchanted forest behind the goal with shots that can only have been explained by equine footwear.
With the supernatural clearly on our side, the ladies’ confidence began to grow, and determined defending was accompanied by the odd threatening breakaway, with Ella, Keira and Bea all coming close with long-range efforts. And then, just before half-time, a defence-splitting pass from Gemma put Ella through, and she finished clinically over the keeper’s head. Cue a very earthy euphoria on the touchline. Alas, a minute later, we relaxed prematurely and a Fusion forward ran through to slot past Choe in goal.
The second half was beyond our wildest dreams. Though we went 1-2 down, we pulled level when their keeper could only parry Emily’s cross, and the magical Elena somehow bundled home the rebound. Not long after, a ghostly hoof appeared to fell Gemma in the box, and Jo smacked home the penalty with aplomb. A Fusion equaliser ten minutes from time threatened to spoil our hopes (and this story) but then up popped Gemma with a stunning strike from a free-kick to win the match and see us through to the next round of the John Greenacre Trophy.
So, was Ebenezer Cibardo really visited by a friendly ghost? Or was it all a dream brought on by excessive booze? And who was that figure driving eternally round the REMPF car park looking for a parking spot?
Happy Christmas all!