|
VASCO GOMES
SATURDAY
4TH DECEMBER 1993
at POZO
v U.F.I
1-1
A match which was being replayed due to the abscence of a ref in
the scheduled October game( which had ended with a head butting
incident and subsequent abandonment) exploded again early in the
second half with a triple sending off .
A fairly even contest ended all square at half time thanks to Alvaro's
first goal of the season-a header from a corner.
In the 60th minute,UFI'S danger man broke through and Rami brought
him down in the penalty box-his second bookable offence.Jim Rose,angry
at the striker's play acting,cuffed him round the head and attempted
his first insult in his new language...TU ERES UN CONO!....
This (now) legendary remark brought about instant retaliation from
the Spaniard and all three players went off for an early cold,trickle
of water. So,down to 9 men... and our substitute goalie,Julio Naranjo
had to face a penalty as his first test.In comic book style Julio
was the hero as he dived catlike to his right to save the spot kick.
Ironically,as the game continued, we had more chances to win it
and would have done if John.P hadn't squandered an easy chance in
the dying seconds.
Before the game two points would have been the requirement but in
light of what occured,we should be happy with one.
Still,Jim's 5 match ban could prove disastrous...
STEVE TIERNEY
November
1986
El
Pozo
Michelín
3 – 4 Británicos
This
match stands out from my early days with the team as it was something
of a rite of passage for me.
Tam
Gallagher was playing me at left back in these first weeks of the
first of my seven seasons; it was a gamble, as I’m only left-footed
in the religious sense.
Michelín
were ahead of their time in that they were already wearing, in canary
yellow, those body-hugging retro numbers, later made famous by Cameroon
and Wales . People said at the time that their players received
money from the tyre company for playing, with a bonus for winning.
I had never played against guys who were on money to win before.
They were sharp and fast, and were quickly two goals up. Another
first for me was playing against opponents who could ‘do’ one-twos,
still an effeminate, foreign concept at that time in my native Scotland
.
Then
came counter-attacking, another new experience for me. It was based
on quick, first-time passes to feet, with Graham Clark nearly always
at the fulcrum. I realised that day just what a good player Graham
was and how much fun this new type of football was on the wide open
space of El Pozo, compared to the over-physical and far less technical
stuff I’d grown up on on tight public parks at home. Graham scored
to bring us back into the game, and we equalised in the second half,
before Michelín went back into the lead. The details are hazy, but
Británicos grabbed another equaliser as the game entered the final
phase, and as the goal went in, I felt a hamstring snap – another
first.
So
my enduring memory of that day was of watching from the sidelines
when, in stoppage time, the ref blew for a free-kick, to the left
of the D, about five metres outside the Michelín area.
My
defensive partner, and mentor (along with big Stuart) was Billy
Murray. He was playing in the líbero role and was a great one for
teaching you when to step up, when to tuck in and so on. Billy it
was who stepped up to address the ball. And as the ref was measuring
out the distance at which the wall needed to stand, with the usual
entertaining histrionics that entails in Spain , the bold Billy
moved the ball two more metres away from the goal, to make the distance
between him and the defenders greater. I’d never seen anything like
it. What cunning. And when he looped the ball over the Michelín
heads, and it flew in an arc from left to right into the top corner,
we all went bananas.
Believe
it or not, I had never played in a game involving a goal from a
direct free-kick before that day.
Others
who played that day were Nigel Tasker, David Henderson, Nick Beswick,
Alan Biggs, Laurens Gaarenstroom, Mark Van Den Bossche, Bill Holden
and David Waterston.
This
game comes to mind, I think, because it was the day I’d say I truly
fell in love with the club.
Stephen
Tierney
1986-1993
GRAEME BURNS
April 2003;
Kiosko Leon 5 - 5 Los Britanicos
Another 9am kick off away up at a terra pitch near the airport.
We need to get changed in a cramped and smelly portacabin. Visiting
team privileges Spanish style. I'm benched as Stuart starts with
the legendary Alan Munro, who has announced that this is to be his
last game. I'm promised the 2nd half and am not too bothered. Alan
has done alot for the club and deserves his farewell appearance.
15 minutes in and a slide-rule pass from Munro sets up Matthew for
the opener. Magic. Matthew scores a superb header and then gets
his hat-trick just before half-time after finishing a through ball.
We finish the first half 3 - 2 up and Alan asks me if he can have
the first 15 minutes of the second before I come on. I agree, but
am slightly irked. I begin warming up nonetheless. Within 10 minutes,
Kiosko Leon have battered in 2 goals and have strangled us in the
midfield. The way the game is going, we could be on the end of a
right thrashing I think to myself.
15 minutes into the second half and Alan Munro signalled to the
bench he had had enough. Stuart Gibb gives me the nod and I tear
off my sweater and began bouncing up and down in my copa mundials
on the touchline, waiting for the shout of 'cambio'. The game is
in danger of swinging away from Britanicos even further as I jogged
onto the pitch and took position up front with big Matthew, the
first half hat-trick man. 'This may well suit me' I thought, what
with us seemingly reduced to counter attacks and long balls into
the channels. The next ten minutes are spent sweating last nights
beer out, blowing kisses at the Kiosko centre-backs to get their
backs up and generally trying to get a second wind. With around
15 minutes to go, Toni Dumitrescu breaks down the left. I jog casually
through the centre, knowing fine well that he is bound to lose the
ball in his quest to beat every man 6 times. By this time Toni has
hit the bye-line and I realise something is actually on but I am
stuck out on the edge of the penalty area with Matthew charging
into the 6 yard box with 2 or 3 defenders hanging onto his back.
Toni smacks the ball over low, and as it bounces, skids and evades
everyone I manage to dart forward, and hammer the ball low, on the
bounce into the keepers bottom right corner from about 15 yards
out. To the keepers credit, I think he got a hand on it, but this
thing was seriously travelling and his arm seemed to disintegrate
upon contact. Lovely stuff. An equaliser out of nowhere and we might
be able to hang on and snatch a draw. 4 - 4 and a wave to Alan Munro
on the touchline. Jogging back the to halfway line with Matthew,
Marco - fickle dutch attacker playing centre mid that day - drops
to one knee, lifts my right boot and begins a polishing action.
I'm slightly embarassed, it wasn't that good was it?! The other
team look pretty peeved though, and Stuart Gibb is getting more
and more animated on the touchline.
5 minutes to go and we are being absolutely battered, but somehow
we're surviving. I'm standing alone up near the halfway line with
the opposing two centre backs. Matthew has thrown a hissy fit and
has dropped deeper and deeper into our own half, looking for the
ball. Our tactics, in the main, have been reduced to booting the
ball anywhere away from our penalty area but with the notable exception
of Vinny at right back, who is still trying to bomb forward when
we have the ball. The stand to my right is beginning to fill with
spectators for the 11am kick-off - what a great advert for British
football we must be making with all these high balls and panic clearances.
Nick Hyner connects with a satisfying whump and the ball shoots
into the air, its going to make it over the halfway line. I bump
my marker to get half a yard and turn to charge after the ball.
It bounces just inside their half, slightly to the right. The other
defender has come across and is yanking at my arm, but I get my
backside in front of him and let the ball bounce again, maybe 40
yards out. I'm ahead of these two clowns for now, but am not fancying
the 40 yard dash with them on my tail and the scrape with a keeper
who has already starting to come off his line. 'He's started to
come off his line', it clicks... 'I'm gonna volley this.....' The
third bounce and someone is pawing frantically at my shoulder. BANG!
I strike the ball and follow through, continuing running, with the
momentum of the contact. The ball swerves and swoops over the goalkeepers
head and high into the top corner of the net. I hear a loud gasp
from the right. The sort that a crowd would make after seeing someting
special. Its a goal, probably the best one I've ever seen, let alone
scored. What have I done? I'm almost too afraid to turn round and
look at my team-mates, but I see some of the opposition bench clapping
over to my left, some with their heads in their hands and hear Stuart
Gibb screaming YESSSS!!!! further to my left. I turn round and as
Matthew throws his arms around me I'm almost flattened by an emotionally
charged Vinny who leaps onto me like a lion. Marco is over too and
has me by the head, he is grinning like a madman and his eyes are
like saucers. Dumi says shakes my hand, and the others in the team,
probably as shocked as me, gesticulate their approval. Meanwhile
Stuart Gibb and Alan Munro are bouncing up and down like Zebadees
on speed on the touchline. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. 5 -4
and it looks like we're stealing a win with 5 minutes to go.
The other team are seriously rocked and we have another opportunity.
Marco hits the right of the penalty area and puts a low ball over,
again I'm on the box edge and ready to bury this mob with my hat-trick
goal, balls on its way and I'm picking my spot, almost there....
Vinny runs out of nowhere and shins the ball out for a throw in.
'You idiot' I shout at him. He glowers at me, looking like Ashely
Cole on a baaaad day. I leave it, we're winning anyway and there
is only a few minutes left.
Disaster. A free kick for nothing in the dying seconds 25 yards
out and the bloke smacks it home. 5 - 5. I look at Vinny. He avoids
eye-contact. In retrospect, the draw is probably fair, but a win
would have been a better story. The full-time whistle sounds and
suddenly I'm surrounded by the other teams players and coach. 'Am
I getting a kicking?' runs through my mind,..... No, they are all
smiling and trying to shake my hand. Lots of spanish phrases, I
make out 'que gol' and something about Zidane. I keep saying gracias
and try to get away - I'm playing under an Italian mans feature
and don't want to incriminate myself or the club. I see Stuart as
I walk off. He is shaking his head and tells me he has never ever
seen anything like that which I have just done. I smile - hopefully
thats his way of saying I'm in the squad next week.
GRAEME BURNS
In terms of memorable matches (and putting on my Graeme Souness
voice), yeah, I've had a few. You may want to fill in a few blanks
around specific details around this match report.
March 2002; Telecinco 4 - 2 Britanicos
Bizarrely it was a Wednesday morning kick-off owing to a local holiday
and we were to play a team I later found out were called Telecinco
at some terra park God knows where in Madrid. Having only moved
over to Madrid six weeks earlier and with a solitary 10 minute substitute
appearance behind me the only competitive football I had had post-Glasgow,
I was gagging for a game. Luckily, a number of people had called
off owing to the holiday (other plans I guess), and I got my chance.
I got the number 11 shirt in the dressing room for Rami, stand-in
manager, and remember being given a pair of short 2 sizes too small,
which was lucky as they had no drawstring.
Out on the pitch for the warm-up and I'd be struggling to name any
more than 4 of my team-mates. I knew Gary Weir, a fellow Scot from
training on the Tuesday up at Bario Pilar, next to Real Madrid's
training ground, and also Vinny Samuels from training and chatting
on the subs bench at the last game. Niall Clements was playing too,
and half-knew the rest of the team from sitting in a dressing room
before. What they made of me, the tall, skinny, gingery who seemed
permanently hungover I can only guess.
5 minutes in and we're a goal down. I've not even touched the ball,
save for kick-off, where I'm playing a centre forward with a big
Nigerian fella called Matthew. There is an Ethiopian on our left
wing (Menti?) and a slick Argie called Diego, bubbling in the midfield.
Ball comes out of defence and I charge after it down the right flank,
defender comes across to cover and ball goes out, about 30 yards
from the touch line. Everyone's sleeping as Vinny comes charging
up from left back to take the throw in. "Yes Vinny!" as
I bolt down the flank, a yard free of the centre back. Get the cross
in I'm thinking as the Vinny throws, but there is no-one up with
the play and my, that goalkeeper sure is small.... ball bounces
in front of me, about 15 - 18 yards from the touchline, tight in
against the right flank.... "outside of the right boot, across
the keeper, lob-shot" goes through the brain and is executed.
A clean connection. Ball rises, swerves in the air, dips.... keeper
falls on his backside.... the ball grazes the bar, the underside
of the bar. The net ripples and my arms go out Ronaldo style, its
a peach, but what now. Matthew charges over and grabs me. I'm too
charged to remember whats said by whom. 1 - 1 and we're back in
the game.
Britanicos defence is holding firm and midfield is starting to click,
Menti is starting to upset his marker on the left wing. Matthew
and I pound into the box. The Nigerian bustles to the front post,
I ghost quietly into the back of the penalty area. The ball is delivered
from 30 yards out on the right flank, its high and floats elegently
into the penalty area and bypasses Matthew, who has dragged one
centre back fully across while the second centre back stands mesmerised
by this ball floating across the area, I peel off and pray that
the Spaniard misjudges the ball. 15 yards out, to the right of the
goal, "keep it down Graeme, across the keeper" I tell
myself. The defender misses the ball. I don't. Volley. Its good,
a clean hit. Goal! Matthew spins in time to see me wheeling away,
fists clenched. We jog back to the half-way line, he pats me on
the back. I give Menti a wave for a superb cross and Niall 2 fingers
for 2 goals in the space of 10 minutes. He claps. Brilliant. Now
anything is possible.
The anything is Diego. He is wound up. Something is wrong, we go
in at half-time at 2 - 2. I'm denied a hat-trick by a barge in the
back, goalkeeper studs in the thigh and a knee in the chest after
chasing a through ball, chipping and clipping the bar and seeing
it cleared off the line. not pleased. There is an argument in the
changing room at half-time. A heated one about team politics. I
shake my head, "this is nonsense", and go back out onto
the field.
We concede 2 more in the second half as the midfield become more
interested in searching out fights. Neither Matthew or I get a sniff
in the second half.
The dressing room is despondant and there is an uneasy quiet at
full time. Someone has powerfully odourous flatuence and it adds
to the tension. I get changed quietly, but I'm beaming from ear
to ear inside. We lost, but unsurprisingly I feel pretty pleased
at my contribution on my full debut.
Graeme Burns
Los Britanicos CDF Jan 2003 - June 2003.
STUART GIBB
It's the
final league game of season 1982-83 when we finished second. If
we had won our last match the league was ours. It was against the
other aspirant to the title, Copozo the local side. We had beaten
them first time round 2-0, so why not again. The match was a typical
9 o´clock kick off in front of 1000 locals and about 50 Britanico
supporters. We started well, going ahead after 20 minutes with a
goal from Richard Stevens our young center forward from London. Just
before half time Copozo equalised, so all to play for. They scored
again mid way through the second half, before sealing victory and
the league near the end with a penalty. Somehow we never quite played
the football we knew we could in that second half.
STUART
GIBB
This match
is also an end of season encounter. This time we were playing the
actual champions Hartmann on the last day and a win for us would
mean finishing third, not to mention defeating the champions of 3
out of the 4 last seasons. As manager I had played with three at
the back in a number of games that season and decided to go with
it again ( this was before Cruyff and wing backs) We were up against
it early in the game, as you would expect against a very confident
league winning team full of regional players. But team work was
exceptional on the day and after containing them we took the lead
through Gavin Ramsey. Two further goals from Alan Munro the team´s
pichichi turned the game in our favour and which eventually turned
into a stroll in the Vallecas Sun and a well deserved league posititon
of 3rd place.
ALAN
MUNRO
Saturday
20/6/98
The
team
Carlos,
Nouveau Riche ,Gerry, Stuart, Nick Hyner,Tom Castella,
Dermid,
Richard Wade, Marco, Kader,Me
Manager
Rami Ali
Venue
Pozo playing fields
FC
Britanicos 3 Quideca S.A. 2
It
was a fairly damp morning I seem to remember at El Pozo del Tio
Raimundo when the Britanicos faced offagainst an old enemy, Quideca
S. A. ( formerly Agencia Efe).
I
had always lost or drawn when I played against this lot and I was
determined for a victory.
Dermot
Ledwith got us off to a flying start with a high netbound strike
from way out, the omens were good. We were playing quite well but
they were starting to nip about our penalty box and sure enough
their big number 9, Chema, twisting and turning our valiant defence,
struck the equaliser.
However
there was a bit of belief running through the team and that man
Dermot got our noses in front again when he bulleted a header into
their net for our second goal.
However
Chema had been the singlehanded cause of our despair on so many
occasions, with the help of his ably drilled journeymen and he was
not going to give up easily tormenting us. He raised himself up
like a salmon for the umpteenth time and headed past Carlos. 2-2
half time
I
can’t remember if Rami gave us any special instructions for the
second half, he may well probably have been warning us against the
dangers of being naïve, as he was wont to do during his managerial
tenure, advice which was never wasted on some of the younger lads
in the team. However he must have been chuffed with the lads with
the effort that they were putting in.
In
the second half the game was finely balanced, they were threatening
our goal but we were looking dangerous on the break. With about
10 minutes to go disaster almost struck, Nick Hyner had to hare
it back to our goaline to slide in and scoop a ball off the line.
It was heartstopping stuff. Then with about six minutes on the electronic
scoreboard a ball came out to me on the left. I legged it as fast
as I could up the wing until I was halfway into their half, I could
see the black jerseys running into the box and I heard Dermot shouting
for it in the middle. I chipped/swept it into the path of the onrunning
forwards but it was Kader, who was like a pubescent Zinedine Zidane,
who took the pass. He feinted to the right, then steadied himself
and sent the ball about knee high into the corner of the net. I
could have kissed the sky!!
We
held out for the remaining minutes and when the ref blew for time
I was full of the joys, I just about managed to shake hands with
Chema and with their captain.
I
wrote down how the game had gone that night and I am amazed now
to read the teamsheet. Look at that defence!! Stuart closing in
on 50 years of age must have had some battle with Chema that day.
Stuart was a hard man to beat in the air. Alongside Stuart was another
Britanicos Manager, the calming influence of Gerry Loughlin. Nick
is still playing centre half out at Alcala de Henares , Nouveau
was a very laid back right back and Tom Castella was playing his
heart out at left back.
Off
the pitch we were greeted by two ex britanicos Vasco and John Pearson
who were full of compliments for our endeavours and of course Ken
Mason will have been there, he is the Britanicos all time number
one fan, not a lot of contenders I know but they all give up as
there is no competition.
I
reckon that a fair bit of the reason for that great victory was
the team spirit that day. One time captain Stevie Tierney used to
bawl out to us “You’ve got to want it “ on numerous occassions to
pump our adrenalin and that day we did.
ROB
LAMB
If only I could remember
enough about one game I'd write up a game. I just recall fragments:
Richard getting butted, the tv presenter in the changing rooms,
Kader going past 6 men, your one liners, Marco's free kick against
Initec, Diego talking shite about Maradona after 2 beers, Rami fighting
with the little fella from Vallecas, Bill's fantastic team talks,
Alex scoring against Celtics with a man down, winning 10 in a row
with Danny and Pat, Mullaney's plastic dog turd, every goal I scored,
obviously not many.
I miss the playing and the
beers in the sun afterwards. My knee is still knackered so I hope
to play again here, but after an operation....
Here everything's ok. I'm
working as a "Business Development Coordinator" in a small medical
repair company. Beth is a social worker, helping young Latina mums.
Got 2 cats, called Rami and Stuart. I learnt to drive. I'm now a
big time cyclist. Watching footie in an English pub with some mates,
I even played for them a couple of times (not good), if you want
a far-afield tour I can set you up a game.
By the way, have you seen
that now Tom de Castella is now a football journalist on the Guardian!!
Keep me on your email list...lots
of love
|
