Pumas 0 - 2 Old Cranleighan 5s (A)

This week we were fortunate to have a special guest called in to patrol the sideline and impose a bit of order on this unruly bunch: Sergeant Major House. Katie N had barely finished asking when we might see Tracey again before, lo and behold, there she was! Ask, and it shall be given; seek and ye shall find. She took up the role of pitch-side manager with relish, marshalling the troops and running our subs immaculately. Between orders, she was our loudest cheerleader: bench discipline and team morale have never been higher. Thank you, Tracey! Same time next week?

On the pitch, meanwhile, the Pumas’ characteristic tomfoolery was alive and well. Kat spent more of the game laughing at her teammates than playing hockey, with Katie N’s spectacularly obvious backstick a particular source of joy. That’s two weeks in a row, Katie… Rory will be putting a sticker on the right side for next Saturday.

Cleo, meanwhile, had long since given up on the umpire giving us anything, so she started giving it to herself. A ball came in at head height. She didn’t duck, and she didn’t flinch. She simply plucked it out of the air one-handed, popped it down and took the free hit herself. No hesitation. No shame. Karma was in action though, and later on she was felled by friendly fire, when Zoe struck the ball of her season (crisp, clean, beautifully timed) straight into Cleo’s knee. It was the only time all afternoon the umpire cracked a smile. (Leah also ended up on her backside at one point, but I’m fairly confident that one was self-inflicted.)

And Sophie V, having studied Anna’s signature move last week, decided to take it on herself. With acres of open space ahead and not an opponent in sight, she defied physics and did the hardest thing possible, pushing the ball off the sideline behind her. It’s no longer a mistake, ladies. It’s a set play.

Even the compliments came with casualties. After the game, Hannah told Jenny she “thought she played well, actually.” That “actually” was not lost on Jenny, sensitive soul that she is, especially as it was delivered in front of her England U16 goalkeeper daughter. The pity in Isabel’s eyes was a sorry sight to behold. So let me say it here, in writing, for posterity: Jenny DID actually sort of play alright. Mostly. Ish.

But if we’re talking about prime tomfoolery, we really ought to talk about the goalkeeping. Before we get into it, I’d like to make clear that I blame Kerrie for everything that follows. We all know that if a small child needs body-checking, she’s your woman, and she would have taken this hit every day of the week. It’s basically her role on this team. Sadly, the silly old Puma wasn’t on the pitch, so it was left to us amateurs.

Anyway. Let’s take a look at the train wreck in slow motion.

Delighted to be back between the posts and desperate to prove my worth, yours truly was overcome with excitement when an OCs forward came romping down the pitch unaccompanied. Agog with anticipation, I’d already started composing the match-report about my heroic 1v1 save in my head. Already started rehearsing my modest “just doing my job” face for the post-match interviews. I charged out of goal armed with nothing but blind ambition, questionable judgement and a vague idea for a textbook slide. Sadly, the execution was not textbook. I mistimed it by roughly a postcode (was the pitch a bit sticky? I think so…) and came to a stop in full kit like an upturned beetle. I’d love to tell you the player took it round me, but I was so far off course I’m not convinced she knew I’d even been involved.

This all left Katie N on the line, with a golden chance to be the hero. To make the save of the season no less. She took the opportunity to open her legs instead, and the ball went straight through them. A nutmeg on the goal line: truly, we do everything together in this team, including cocking it up. When I later asked Katie for her Player of the Match vote, she really rubbed salt in the wound by saying Silke, the goalkeeper of an entirely different team, who wasn’t even on the pitch. She claims she meant Surge. My injured pride is choosing to believe her.

It therefore pains me greatly to announce that Katie N was today’s Player of the Match. Apart from letting the first goal in (look, that’s what the record now states), she played magnificently. This one can sometimes be an agent of chaos, so it was with some surprise and amusement that Katie herself gathered the defence for a pre-match pep talk all of our own. Part Braveheart, part Ted Lasso, it was a rousing and inspiring moment. Perhaps it got some of us a little too excited (see above). But Katie practised exactly what she preached. She was composed, disciplined and immovable for seventy minutes, mopping up (nearly) everything that came her way. A stunning performance!

In fact, there were no fewer than nine players nominated for the glorious title this week. Rachel and Surge - our absolute workhorses in midfield – picked up three between them. It’s hard to put into words how much running and tackling these two do over the course of a game. They are absolutely relentless.

Amidst all the laughing, Kat also picked up a nomination. I’m told she played well. I wouldn’t know. I’m afraid I didn’t see any notable hockey from her, and that has absolutely nothing to do with her telling me my reports are too long. I’m just a professional trying to do a job, and we’ve got to cut words somewhere.

Mon also picked up a brace for being her usual wonderful self. Her standout moment occurred back in our defensive 22: whipping out her binoculars, she spotted Leah in the far right-hand corner of the pitch. Not bothering to stop the ball, she just smashed it first time, straight up to her. Pinpoint. Perfect. Sophie V? I hear Mon is offering lessons…

Leah likewise got in on the action. No goals this week, but they’ll soon come with her in this kind of form.

Zoe had another stellar game as well. She has the timing of a Swiss watch in her tackling and her hitting is also coming along very nicely – as always in the Pumas, we just need to work on the aim. Alongside her in defence, Lizzie was magnificent, winning practically every challenge she went into. Determination second to none! Richly deserved pom noms.

And Cleo, in between catching the ball, refereeing herself and being kneecapped by her own teammate, still found time to play some cracking hockey. She was tireless, tenacious and utterly fearless in the tackle, exhibiting the confidence of a woman who’s decided the rules are more of a suggestion.

Eagle-eyed readers will notice a name conspicuously absent from this report: Cuddy. Expectations were sky high after last week’s heroics, but the difficult second album is real. Not even a nomination from Cuddy herself, which is practically unheard of. In fairness, she was busy keeping her head down, dodging the steady stream of OCs players coming over to say hi, none of whom she seemed to know. She’s a hard one to make friends with, this one. I find abusing her in match reports really helps. Or it’s possible she’s simply peaked. Whatever the reason, chin up, friend. The comeback tour starts next Saturday.

Onwards and upwards, ladies!

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Guest column: Cuddy Cudmore reviews the goalkeeper’s performance

Now, I’m a firm believer in naming and shaming. It’s entertaining, it makes us laugh, and laughter is good for the soul. What is not good for the soul is self-deprecation, which can be genuinely harmful to one’s mental health. So, purely out of concern for her wellbeing (and absolutely no personal enjoyment whatsoever), I have valiantly stepped up to do it for her. Think of it as a public service. Ladies, I give you our steadfast goalkeeper’s performance today. Frankly, it was awful.

Sophie started the game like she’d come straight from a three-hour pub lunch where Rosie had slipped something into her tea, possibly a sedative, possibly a Baileys, possibly both. Hockey is a team game, of course, and we win together and lose together. But both goals conceded today sit squarely at Sophie’s door (or rather, in Sophie’s net, which is the one place they really shouldn’t be). The defensive line was excellent: organised, committed, and clearly fired up by a pre-match pep talk that was well received by absolutely everyone except Sophie. You’d think a teacher would have elite active listening skills. She spends all week telling children to pay attention. But apparently active listening had the day off too, in solidarity with Sophie’s own day off work.

The first goal, as witnessed in horror from the forward line, can only be described as a fish out of water. The OCs got our keeper on the floor (did we learn nothing from last week?), and what followed was less goalkeeping and more interpretive dance. There was flopping. There was flailing. There was some wild stick-wielding that would have been impressive if it had been anywhere near the ball. Then the ball went in, in a perfect action replay of last week, just with the wrong team celebrating. If Sophie was trying to recreate last week’s highlights, she nailed it, just for the opposition.

As for the second goal, we all heard about it at the final whistle: “I didn’t see the player,” “I couldn’t see where the ball came from,” “It came out of nowhere.” The excuses arrived faster than the shot did, and with considerably better placement. For the record, the ball came from the pitch. That is where balls generally come from. A gentle reminder that a goalkeeper has one job, which is to keep her eyes on the ball. Recognising that Sophie isn’t getting any younger (we’re not saying she’s old, but she did ask if the floodlights could be turned up), I am happy to generously donate my £10-off Specsavers eye test voucher to the cause, for the good of the team and to stop this becoming a recurring feature.

Sophie is great craic off the pitch, and her match reports are second to none (presumably because she can see the keyboard), but her on-pitch form was not up to par this week. As any teacher knows, the appropriate response is to sit in the corner, have a long, hard think about what she’s done, and come back next week ready to show us she’s learned her lesson.