Caps 1 Old Timers 1

Summer time conjures images of long walks on the beach, deep honey tans on scantily clad ladies, fruity cocktails on a porch, lounging in a hammock with a pulp fiction novel and lazy idle days with nothing to do and all day long to do it. One does not picture out of shape old men, has beens that never were, sweating like paedophiles in a playground, kicking a ball up and down a field in a slow motion travesty of what the world knows as "The Beautiful Game". And yet that is exactly what was on display last Thursday night in St. Augustine when the dangerously sexy Caps team took on the poster children for angry miserable bastards, the Palm Coast Old Timers.
For the nine spectators (one dog) in attendance, this game must have made watching paint dry seem an exciting proposition. Thankfully there was no admission fee. If there had been, full refunds and possibly even bribes would have been necessary to assuage the pain and suffering that was surely felt by the fans. There was nothing even remotely interesting or exciting about this fixture, unless one considers the hideous off-orange, sleeveless t-shirts that Caps were sporting to be worth a comment. Fashion week in Milan it was not. Soccer as it is supposed to be played it was not. Evidence that man is the greatest of all god's creations, it was not. It was wrong, on lots of levels.
However, despite the complete and utter lack of any aesthethic beauty about this sporting fixture there were some almost bright spots. Meyers received his first death threat of the campaign, something that usually takes at least until mid-season to happen. DeMartini, second only to Hubble in the best looking legs on the team category, showed that hard work and skill still have a place in the game. Meyer, in goal, shouted in a manner that hinted he at least knows how he should sound when organizing a defence. Zub's hair was immaculate, Wilson seemed less angry than usual and Coghlan managed to look only marginally retarded for most of the game. Zeits' performance, as ever, was overshadowed by the sheer magnificence of his facial hair and Hubble took his goal with all the style and aplomb of a freshman coed draining her fifteenth shot as she coyly makes her way to the business end of the president of the number one fraternity on campus. A thing of beauty it was not, but it, like the coed (a former president of the young Christians who Care at her high school and girl voted most likely to love Jesus forever), got the job done.
The last few minutes of the game brought the most entertainment as the large angry Argentine playing for the Old Timers got sent off for threatening to go medieval on Meyers' ass. Toys were unceremoniously dumped out of the pram and bitter, angry curses turned the air of R.B. Hunt Elementary school a deep shade of blue. The situation was not helped by Coghlan reminding everyone of the winners and losers of the Falklands War. Apparently this is still not seen as funny in Buenas Aries.
This was not exactly one for the ages but it was better than shoveling shit in an Afghan prison... though not by much.