Cheam Mens 1st XI

Report: Your Cheam heroes this weekend faced what was, on paper, a strong OMW's side who would, we thought, give us a hard match. But the Cheam is not afraid of paper. We were at the Fortress, with a decent side and our supporters behind us. And what support! This was some of the best we've had this season, including many of the ladies' 1s, Jigglemart, Mrs Lespig, Mrs MadDog and TRG to name but a few. The fortress was rocking, flares were set off and clashes between rival sets of fans broke out over the thorny issue of who loved the Cheam more. Surrey police looked on nervously and a police chopper hovered above. We were all in our element except homeboy spectacular, lyrical gangsta and club chairman Snoop Doggy Dogg feat. Tebbsython (fo'shizzle remix), who seemed uncomfortable with the heavy police presence. This was, we were sure, to be our time.

There were a lot of conflicting emotions as we took to the field this weekend: pain, degradation, loathing, self-hate. Mainly from Lespig. These were internalised in a very reflective warm-up. But when such emotions are bottled up the Cheam becomes a very dangerous beast. The writing was on the wall for OMWs. Speaking of very dangerous beasts, Baby, despite huge doses of horse tranquiliser, still prowled menacingly. But this time we pointed him at the opposition. It was to prove a beautiful afternoon.

Hizzletime started and your titans were put under extremely strong pressure by OMWs from the off. For the first 10-15 minutes, Cheam struggled to keep possession for any prolonged period, and the defence were called into action on a number of occasions. But we kept out everything OMWs had to throw at us with some superb defensive work from Baby, Squealer, FatHand and LesPig. OMWs squeezed play hard and won a few shorties, which the twinkletoed Stumpelina kept at bay with his customary balletic grace.

Whilst under heavy pressure, your legends were looking dangerous on the break, with Hamas, Gaz and Badger linking well and tremendous workrate in the midfield from your author, Flasher, Snoop Doggy Dogg feat. Tebbsython (fo' shizzle remix) and MadDog. And then came the goal. Beautiful quick break, ball sent into the D to Badger, dispatched with aplomb. His first 1st XI goal, and a vital one. Badger celebrated in style with a well chosen Adonis hero pose, followed by a rendition of his now famous "Mushroom mushroom....SNAKE!" celebration (if you have no idea what I'm talking about, check: http://www.badgerbadgerbadger.com/). The rush of adrenaline went to his head, however, and he picked up a green card soon thereafter for overzealous tackling.

The Cheam machine was spurred on by this, and confidence suddenly oozed into our play. We played the simple ball each time, held possession and made OMWs chase shadows. We went in at half-time 1-0 up.

Out for the second half and the Cheam played in confident mood. Again the start was slow, but we got up to speed much quicker than the first half, pressing the hapless oppo hard when they were in possession and holding possession much more assuredly ourselves. This was clearly to be our game and a second goal was only to be a matter of time.

And what a goal. Once again, a contender for the coveted 'Omar Shibli Goal of the Millenium' award. By which I mean an award for great goals, and not the frequency with which they are scored... Short corner won. The shortie team huddled together. The call was made. And everyone knew that the man who made that call would ignore it entirely, as is customary. Ball injected, stopped, then bam! Drag flick. Not just any though. This was not one of your along the ground, dead centre, pea roller types of drag. Nein mein freunden! This was a flick that prompted Taekema to take a break from his international duties to come pitchside at the Fortress to say "Damn, that was a sweet flick". The 'Nonsuch roar' for which the fortress is famed fell into a stunned silence. All was quiet and in awe. And then, from nothing, a slight sound. Almost inaudible at first, it was a gentle sobbing, rising in volume and intensity. And in one moment it became clear to all. The backboard was weeping. ! One OMWs player was overheard to remark "That's the most phenomenally awesome goal we've conceded all season".

2-0 to the heroes, but we needed to put the match to bed. OMWs continued to carve out chances from time to time, dealt with by your Cheetahs, but we were the team on top. Our greater fitness and searing pace up top was paying dividends, a third goal was eminently possible. And then it came. Ball in towards Hamas, but perilously close to the OMWs keeper, would our man get to it? Well, not really, he appeared instead to lunge into the padded one in a two-footed slide tackle. But somewhere in the mixer, the ball was involved. It came free and fell to the onrushing VDL. The angle was tight, there was still work to do, but our cheeky South African maverick made it look easy. Chest bumping all round ensued. OMWs pulled one goal back right at the death, but frankly, we didn't care. We finally had the result our strong play over the last however many weeks has deserved. All went back to the clubhouse and enjoyed an evening with the shrill melodies of VDL playing his famed jazz ! flute.

Report: This weekend Cheam faced a tough match at the fortress. Coming off the back of a decent performance against Bank of England in 3rd place the previous weekend, your heroes invited 2nd place OC's to our patch. The fortress was ready for a battle. By which I mean on the hizzle pitch, not a lyrical battle, much to the chargrin of club Chairman and underground hip hop artiste Tebbsython, who instead had to content himself with some freestyle body popping in the warm up.

Unfortunately, whilst the fortress was ready for said battle, your heroes were not. Cheam suffered from what can only be described as a Baby Boyce hangover. Followers of our reports will be aware of a recent spate of attacks instigated by the Baby beast against his 1st XI campadres. We understand a slot on Crimewatch is pending. But for the moment, with the 'Beast of Cheam' untamed, the reluctance of players to put themselves at risk was abundantly clear, with no fewer than 6 of the 1st XI squad - Stumpelina, FatHand, LesPig, the Giggler, Flasher and Gaystacks - unavailable. One, the Giggler, was unavailable having been bitten in the shin by Baby the previous week. Indeed, news of the Beast's insatiable appetite for Cheam players appears to have disseminated through the men's section this week, with no fewer than 30 players absent. Fear can be a terrible thing.

However, from such pain hope can arise, and it did in the form of JK, Badger, Rodworm, Julio and SuperMario, stepping up to the plate from the 2nd XI. They had clearly not been following the Daily Cheam's news coverage of the Baby beast saga, and arrived eager and fearless. That suited us just fine.

The match started and, with such a large number of new players, it was clear fluency would be in short supply. True to the Cheam way, however, tenacity was not. All of the 2nd XI lads performed admirably and have given us food for thought in terms of selection as the end of season run-in gets underway. Whilst we conceded an early goal, we thereafter held our own, if not quite creating the chances we would have liked, and went in 1-0 down at the break. JK in particular had a fantastic time between the sticks and made several good saves.

The second half continued in a similar vein until, about 15 minutes in, disaster struck. And it struck, as before, in the form of a big Baby. MadDog, who suffered a broken finger at the beast's hands in the Walton & Weybridge match, made a schoolboy error. He played with his finger still hurt. The scent of blood quickly found its way to Baby's nostrils, and set him off. All he needed now was an excuse...

And that excuse was provided, unfortunately, by one of our best players on the day. Step forward... Butch. Everyone knows, when Baby looks at you, look away. Eye contact only serves as provocation to the man mountain. Butch, in what can only be described as a moment of madness, not only had the audacity to look Baby directly in the eyes, but, inexplicably, compounded the act of self-destruction by uttering to the wretched creature five unforgivable words that will live long in the memory to all who heard them...

"Hi mate, how are you?"

Needless to say, the monster erupted. A terrifying roar and he'd knocked Butch to the ground with a flex of the bicep. Butch unfortunately dislocated his shoulder and it may well be that his season is over.

To an already stretched Cheam side this proved to be a player loss too far. We capitulated, conceding 4 goals rather quickly. To be fair, OC's played some fantastic hizzle, with a counter-attack goal from one of our shorties that you have to applaud, and what has to be up there as the second best dragflick we've seen this season. I won't bother recounting the best one. That's in a previous match report...

Though disappointing, your heroes must pick themselves up quickly for some huge matches in the coming few weeks, and find a way to pacify the Baby.

Report: This was a big day at the fortress, as your heroes took on Bank. They were a team flying high in 3rd place in the league, pushing 2nd. in theory, they were the form side. But when you face the Cheam juggernaught, form counts for nothing. We were confident. And we were aggrieved. Not only had they beaten us in the previous fixture this season. That could have been forgiven. But there was more. Those boys were (pretty much) single handedly responsible for the credit crunch and all that goes with it. Unacceptable. This was payback. We were determined that there would be no bonus for the Bankers this week. Not on our watch...

The warm up was brisk, supported by the uplifting, warm and mushy feelgood easy listening songs "War" and "Straight outta Compton". The latter proved far too much for Club Chairman and lyrical gangsta Tebbsython to handle, as he broke rank, stopped stretching and started beatboxing uncontrollably. A spectacular sight indeed, inspiring to all who saw it.

Into the match and Cheam played confidently, we took ourselves right back to basics and controlled possession and play. Bank had their moments and always looked capable, but Cheam gave them a taste of their own medicine with some miserly defending. We had numerous short corners, well defended by Bank. They also had a number, which we ably dealt with. To a man, the Cheam machine played like a team with purpose. We allied the pace and energy of Gaystacks, Gaz and SuperMario up front with the guile and vision (if not the lungs) of VDL. And it almost paid dividends on a number of occasions, most notably with Gaz having two wonderful opportunities early on and VDL beating the Bank keeper in a 1-on-1, only to see the reverse stick shot go agonisingly wide. Both sides had chances during the game, but I think it's fair to say our were the better.

Unfortunately, as seems the norm these days, one of our number was again taken to hospital from the match. Those who read last weekend's match report will be aware of the effect of the Baby-beast in decimating the 1st XI, injuring 3 players, including your writer. We are sad to say he has struck again. By following the trail of bodies, we managed to locate Baby in the forests around Sunbury in mid-week, and arranged for the RSPCA's dangerous animal handlers to tranport him to the pitch for our match. I am sad to say 3 valiant RSPCAers didn't make it, and our thoughts are with their families at this difficult time. We assumed that the horse tranquilisers would bring the Baby-beast to normality for at least the 70 minutes of gametime, but alas, we were mistaken. It did for 50 minutes, but then he broke free of his shackles, ran up to the Giggler, let out a blood curdling scream and bit him in the shin. The result? Six stitches and a fair period out. Baby later went to the hospital to find the Giggler (no doubt to finish the job).

But, that act of depravity aside, this was an excellnt Cheam performance, and one we hope to build on in the coming weeks. Rapper's delight and Apache entertained in the dressing room post-game, and the Cheam toasted a good, hard day's work.

Report: Hell hath no fury like a Baby scorned.

This weekend's fixture saw a relegation battle, with Walton starting one point below Cheam in the league table. A huge game, and one in which both sides were desperate for a win. Morale was high going into this match, despite your heroes having been unable to play or train for the previous fortnight due to the weather. The team was missing a few stalwarts, but confidence was high. Then Baby stepped up.

I should explain, on Friday evening your writer and Baby went together to the gym, to do a light session of what can only properly be described as a bit of "gun sculpture". Now, your usual response to such endeavour is an endorphin rush, satisfaction and a sweet, sweet gunshow at the weekend. Unfortunately, in Baby's case, hulk-like it appeared to trigger the animal within. Equally unfortunately, we failed to point him at Walton, and his path of destruction psythed through your Cheam heroes, leaving them decimated during the game.

We began with a squad of 12. Cue the pre-match warm up, Baby unleashed a blood-curdling roar and rocketed a hockey ball straight into MadDog's finger, shattering the tip. 11 players remained. Next up was MattyL, who made the mistake, according to Baby, of "not showing sufficient appreciation for my gunnery". A robust trip with the stick resulted, and MattyL injured his ankle. It was uncertain whether he could continue, but after discussion, he resolved to play and see how it went. So now we had 11 with one injured in that number. Perfect preparation, ready for the match...

Push back and your titans conceded an almost immediate goal, as the MattyL gamble failed to pay off. Unfortunately, he was at centre back. Walton moved forward in a fairly straightforward attack, their forward walked past MattyL, who was unable to move, and slotted the ball home. Matty's match was over, we were 1-0 down, and we were subbing on a player with a broken finger...

Cheam in the remainder of the first half were rather poor. The enforced reshuffle at the back saw only two established defenders who were fit and a lot of uncertainty as a result. We had 2 shorties, one which Walton stopped on the line, more through luck than judgment, and one which we (should that be I? Nah, let's go with we...) wasted. A rocket from Coach at half-time and we turned around for the second half.

Your legends were a different side at the start of the second. We pressed, hassled, dominated possession. We found the rhythm we had lacked before half-time. We were dangerous and confident, if it had continued for the remainder of the game then we would surely have taken all 3 points. But then, 10 minutes in, disaster struck.

Your author should have seen it coming. Baby had been subtly flicking the Vs at him during half-time, and your writer had already politely declined one invitation to kiss Baby's trembling bicep. The writing was on the wall. And so it came. Ball to Baby, who looked up, again, roared like a demon possessed and unleashed a brutal undercut to your writer's face. I went down, both lips split. The Baby-beast climaxed, rushed to the fallen player and started drinking the blood. He then ran off into the woods, roaring maniacal, never to be seen or heard from again, although mangled bodies have coincidentally started turning up near that stretch of Sunbury...I am the lucky one - I survived to tell the harrowing tale...Ja Rule feat. Tebbsython was later to observe it reminded him of that fateful day when his homeboy Biggie Smalls was gunned down in cold blood...

The remainder of the match I did not see, having been taken to A&E for a stitching. But with Cheam disorientated and down to 10 men (of which one was de-fingered), the inevitable resulted. Walton scored a second. Your titans rallied, Gaystacks scored a goal accompanied by his now customary triple backflip celebration. But the result was not to be.

Report: Your superstars travelled this weekend to play top of the league Wanderers. There was an air of trepidation ahead of this fixture. Not about Wanderers, your heroes did not fear them, but about our chances of making it to the match and back alive. For this was gangsta country, drive-by territory, and your Cheam crew were on another team's turf. All were tense, save for Club Chairman and lyrical gangsta Tebbsython, who reassured us. "Itz all about da Benjamins, now lit's git ah hizzle ONNN!"

But this was to be no ordinary game of hizzle. Your heroes carried the firm underdog tag but were determined to prove a point after going down to Wanderers early in the season. The match started apace and Cheam were setting the agenda. We exerted good pressure and created half chances that Wanderers struggled to cope with. We pressed hard and strong, with attack and midfield pressuring the Wanderers backline in possession and forcing them to resort to aerial clearances. The pace of Flasher and Gaystacks was causing all manner of problems for the opposition defence. And then we got sucker punched.

A short corner awarded against us on a rare Wanderers foray. Ball injected, stopped and drag flicked. To be fair, an excellent flick, almost if not quite as good as the one scored by Cheam last weekend. Which was awesome. Their first shot on goal was hard for your heroes to take. But their it was. 1-0 Wanderers.

Inspired by the injustice, your titans fought back, slick play resulted in a short corner of our own. FatHand scored with a perfect strike and celebrated by riding his stick rodeo style back down the pitch. The clinical Cheam short corner machine was in action once again. 1-1.

Wanderers then stepped up a gear and pinned your heroes into their half. Wave after wave came at us, but we defended resolutely. In fact, despite them having the majority of possession, we broke well when the opportunity arose, and created the two best chances of the game to put in a second goal. Flasher created an almost open goal for himself with bulldog tenacity, but was unable to apply the finishing touch, and Tebbsython narrowly failed to connect with a cross at the back post. One too many Crystals I suspect.

Wanderers' pressure led to numerous short corners, all of which were kept out by our phenomenal defence. Clearly they weren't going to get one in by legal means. And so, sadly, it proved. A shortie was taken by them and slipped right, ball back into the centre and it looked like Stumpelina was all set for a routine clearance. But then a Wanderers player bellyflopped onto the ball, preventing the clearance, and another slotted the ball into the net as it spun clear. The umpires gave the goal, despite incredulous Cheam protests.

The Cheam continued to withstand heavy pressure, but managed to foray up the pitch just in time for a short corner as the final whistle blew. Shortie taken, ball hit into a Wanderers player and another short awarded. Or was it? The umpires consulted and, again, to the incredulous away side and support, the decision was reversed and a 16 awarded. 2-1 it finished.

A frustrating end to a game from which we felt we could and should have taken at least a point. On another day it may well have been, and the effort put in by all certainly justified more than the league table will show. But that's why we play this beautiful mother of a game. We will, no doubt, come back stronger.

Report: "Fo' shizzle ma nizzle, let's get out there n play some hizzle"
So uttered Club chairman Tebbsython, to usher in a huge match this weekend, which saw HAC taking on your heroes at the Fortress. The last encounter resulted in a slightly fortuitous 3-3 draw, with HAC dominating possession and 3-0 up at half-time, but subjected to the mother of all Cheam comebacks. They would be hurting and visited us with a point to prove.

The warm up was quick and brutal, as always fired up by Club chairman Tebbsython's now customary gangsta rapping. Pushback was slightly delayed whilst Tebbsython removed his bling and handed his cane, gloves and furs to a starstruck onlooker. As pushback loomed a wall of noise, a deafening, hellish roar was created by our three supporters. This was the fortress at its rampant best.

The match was an even contest all the way through. Both sides had spells of dominance, both sides had opportunities to take the lead. Whatever pressure came at your lionhearts was ably deat with by the defence, and anything coming through ably swept up by Stumples in goal. We transferred the ball well, with Fat Hand and Gigglemart commanding on the ball at the back, and the forwards and midfield putting great pressure on HAC at the other end. Gaystacks did an excellent job irritating the HAC playmaker no end, stifling him time and again, if occasionally in a slightly overzealous way, resulting in a green card.

A Cheam breakthrough was inevitable, and the moment came with a fine move. Ball at left back with Baby, inside to the Giggler, hard ball up to Shags, deflected pass to Tebbsython in the D, ball sent to MadDog and the ball dispatched with that furious anger for which he is famed throughout the divisions. 1-0 to the Cheam. Booyah.

HAC then levelled the match with a short corner, one of those irritating shorties that was defended ok, only for the ball to fall slightly fortuitously to an opposing player when anywhere else would have rendered it safe. 1-1.

Thereafter, sadly, Cheam proved the architects of their own demise. Two slight lapses in concentration resulted in two well finished HAC goals, putting them 3-1 up and almost out of sight. Cheam once again learned an important lesson that comes with the jump up from Surrey Div to to Div 1 this season.

All was not yet lost. Cheam thereafter exerted all the pressure and looked the likely scorers. Unfortunately, in a slight tactical oversight, we decided to wait for the final whistle before making our move. Doh. A short corner won, the final whistle blown, and a goal at this stage would simply have been for pride.

Knowing it now could not affect the result, one Cheam player took the opportunity to officially break out the drag flick for the first time this season. Crafted in the fires of hell, this baby had not yet seen the light of day in a match, yet rumours had already spread throughout the country of its prowess. Some would say there was no pressure. They would be wrong. How much more pressure can there be than knowing that not only HAC, but also your entire team, are willing you to massively cock up? Luckily this kingpin thrives on such pressure. Ball injected. Ball stopped. Ball dragflicked. Scored. Top left corner, in off the angle of post and crossbar. Something like that, at any rate. As statto Baby observantly noted, we now have a 100% dragflick success rate this season.

Sadly though the more important result was not to be. An eminently winnable game, though close, as with all matches this season. Your heroes are learning lessons all the time in this Division, and the play has improved hugely since the start of the season. But we're getting to the business end, and points are ultimately all that matters.

So it's a good thing we're playing league leaders Wanderers next weekend. Might as well put the points in the bag now. Easy...

Report: "His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready
To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgettin
What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out
He's chokin, how everybody's jokin now
The clock's run out, time's up over, blouww!"

With these inspirational words from Club Chairman and part-time gangster rapper Tebbsython ringing in their ears, your Cheam heroes headed to Camberley for their first league match post Christmas. We were keen to keep intact our impressive unbeaten record for 2009. We succeeded, and have now gone an astonishing 53,280 minutes (or, to put it another way, an unbelievable but true 3,196,800 seconds) wihout defeat. Yes, we are virtually invincible...

Matches against Camberley have always been closely fought, and this was to prove no exception. There was a pressure-cooker atmosphere: Camberley were bottom of the league, but only 2 points adrift of us, and had beaten us (slightly fortuitously) in our previous encounter. This time there was to be no repeat - for the Cheam is a hungry beast, it thrives on pressure, eats fear for breakfast and chortles in the face of low to lower-mild danger.

Everyone felt we could take points from this crunch game. The warm up was lively and successful, despite Club chairman Tebbsython's attempts to gee up the opposition by attending their warm up and gangsta rapping to them instead of us.

Early on in the match, though, our prospects took a turn for the worse, when Flasher feigned injury and pulled out after about 10 minutes, leaving us with a bare 11. The scale of his deception was impressive and to be lauded - he produced fake blood, went to A&E and even applied 3 stitches to his leg, in his attempt to convince us his injury was real. We were not fooled - for the Cheam is a wise creature, cunning and proud.

The match was lively and end to end, with numerous opportunities for both sides. Camberley drew first blood, a goal which was immemorable, by which I mean it could have been scrappy or awesome, I honestly don't remember. But as we all know, a beast is at its most dangerous when wounded. So it proved.

In the second half Cheam's salvation came in an unexpected form. In a time of tribulation, we once again needed a hero, a titan, a being of grace and poise and skill unbeknownst to this world. We didn't have that, we had Squealer. But although unlikely, you have to say, what a goal. Probably the second best of the season. Playing without his customary Rambo headband, Squeals got angry, and decided enough was enough. His usual response to such emotions is to elbow his opposing number and get yellow carded, but this time his approach was somehow different. Receiving the ball out at left half, he drifted inside, dribbled past two / three Camberley players (doubtless he will say seven), got to the top of the D and produced a stunning top left corner reverse stick undercut finish, that left the keeper with no chance. He then proceeded to showboat with his now customary and throroughly age inappropriate "who's your daddy" celebration. A great moment indeed.

Following this Cheam exerted heavy pressure and won numerous short corners, which unfortunately produced no winning goal on this occasion. Camberley, to be fair, then exerted strong pressure of their own and Stumples made numerous good saves. So whilst we see this as two points dropped, we could also have come away with none. And our 2009 unbeaten run now stretches to a mammoth two games - huzzah!

One other highlight was Coach shouting at me very loudly that I was "playing like a girl". I would like to say for the record tht I was, at no point, playing like a girl. A girl would at that point have cried, whereas I managed to hold my tears in till later that evening, when I let them out whilst eating a tub of Ben & Gerry's Ice Cream. Because that's what real men do.

Report: "Beware all ye who enter the fortress. For ye shall find pain and degradation. And ye shall taketh away no points". These wise words of club chairman Tebbsython have proved prophetic in recent weeks, with a resounding victory over Walton & Weybridge, and now a closer and much harder fought victory over those SOBs.

This match was always going to be a hard fought affair, it being the first meeting of the sides since the 2006/7 season, where SOBs just pipped Cheam to promotion from Surrey Division 2, despite being unable to beat us. The team was in buoyant mood prior to the match, warming up to Gaz's selection of inspirational music and having watched MadDog's video on how smashing pieces of wood with your hands helps you win matches. Coach was also on a high, inspired by the New Zealand rugby league victory, and made sure that everyone knew that anything was possible.

Cheam had the better of the opening exchanges, winning a number of short corners in the first half, but failing to convert despite going close. SOBs then took their turn to exert pressure, which was expertly defended by the Cheam. This was a tight match which in theory could have gone either way. But in practice, we are Cheam and this is the Fortress - there was only ever going to be one outcome.

At half time, Coach gave us some wise words and some advice on the SOBs' defensive short corner setup. 5 minutes into the second half and we won a short corner...would we be able to put our training into practice?

As we set up around the circle, the mood was tense. The crowds on the sidelines were nervous, holding their breath in anticipation and fear, and an icy breeze whistled across the pitch. What would happen, would the Cheam prevail?

The game was at this point crying out for one man, a titan amongst his peers, to step up to the plate and take the game by the scruff of the neck. A leader, a hero, if you will. And Cheam had that man. The quality of finish was so exquisite that the umpires would clearly have awarded three or for goals, instead of just one, if only the rules of the game would have allowed it. I won't name the immortal scorer (in this section, at least), but one thing is clear. His exploits, his goal, will go down in the annals of history. His name will be sung by angels, his story told long after he has finished his hockey playing days. The greeks spoke of Heracles and Perseus, but it is arguable, nay, probable, that the story of the hero of Cheam will live longer in time. Men have done many things of wonder in this world - discovered fire, invented the wheel, developed treatments for life-threatening illnesses. But undoubtedly, all those creators, all those men who shaped the world as we know it would have traded their achievements a thousand times over, for mere chance, the opportunity, to utter three immortal words in relation to that magnificent moment at the Fortress. "I was there".

After the exquisite finish (I fear describing it only as a goal would anger the Gods), Cheam looked assured and composed. They hassled and harried those SOBs. Towards the end of the match, as SOBs' desperation for an equaliser grew, they laid seige to the Cheam goal, and it was only some heroic defending and some truly magnificent saves by Stumples, that kept the Cheam in front. At the final whistle joy descended, the injustice of the 2006/7 season was erased.

Report: The fortress is truly a terrifying place to travel. Some liken it to the stadiums of Istanbul, others to Snake Mountain, lair of Skeletor. On a cold, gloomy morning, a solitary banner fluttered in the wind to greet the visiting team: 'Welcome to Hell'. So it proved to be.

Cheam's heroes were fired up, thanks to a combo of the inspirational words of Coach, Captain and most importantly Michael Jackson, who serenaded us with 'Beat it' during the warm up. Our tunes are selected each week by a 1st XI player, according to what motivates them. This week we journeyed into the psyche of the SwampPig. It is a psyche of passion, degradation, rage and fear. As it turns out, it is also a winning one.

The side started brightly, and set about demolishing Hawks from the start. A short corner was won and despatched, following a flawless routine, by Awright. MattyL scored the next after a well worked move in open play saw the ball travel up the right, into the D and finished ruthlessly. Much fist-pumping ensued from the boy wonder, you could see what that goal meant to him.

A second short corner went close, then a third short corner was won, beautifully worked by the team and converted by Flasher. Although it should be noted that the ball was DEFINITELY going in anyway.

A fourth goal was scored by Awright, cooling lobbing an onrushing keeper in open play. A fifth was scored by MattyL, after great work by Awright left him with the easiest of finishes. Following further great play all round, a penalty flick was won after top work by the 'angry man', Mad Dog. Up stepped MattyL for his hat-trick. A beautiful finish and it was game over for the Hawks.

This was a match played with passion on both sides. Both sides picked up cards. Hawks got two yellows after the pressure appeared to tell on some of their players. Cheam got two greens, but an awesome spectacle was unfortunately marred by Tebbsython, who was yellow carded for removing his shorts and streaking across the pitch, in protest at an umpiring decision. Whilst pleasing for the crowd and undoubtedly easy on the eye, it was agreed that such a spectacle should be reserved for matches where the result hangs in the balance, not one as one-sided as this. A yellow card was therefore awarded.

With this result, Cheam notched up their first league win of the season and the biggest victory in the division thus far. We have officially begun...