ICUAFC 1s conquering London

On the 27th of October the “ICUAFC elite” (Tofis, 2012) ventured north of the wall to a place so windy that Dorothy and Toto thanked their lucky stars that they live in Kansas: Shenley. The opposition were the old enemy and second best university in London, UCL. A fixture steeped in history, this was always going to be a difficult fixture. It wasn’t. With new recruits James Murphy, Luke Butler, Marius Wedemeyer, Amine Cherif (aka Cherif Snr) and the returning Peter Bjorkstrand, on top of 13 goals without reply in 270 minutes, ICUAFC 1s were full of confidence. We arrived at Shenley with no sign of the opposition; rumours were banded about that Imperial’s multicultural line up had scared the UCL army into submission. However, just when it looked like there would be a no show, they appeared over the hill, armed for battle (a football match).

Our confidence was high, and rightfully so, as we dicked on them for 90 minutes winning 3-0. Garner was majestic in goals (at each end), protected by Tofis, Woodhead, Amjad and Cherif Snr. The midfield was bossed by housemate combo Tim ‘Smithy’ Beasley and Hill, who continues to roll back the years. Width was provided by Murphy and Butler spearheaded by Bjorkstrand and Robinson. Unfortunately, Butler’s fancy footwork put him on the receiving end of a rash challenge forcing him off early only to be replaced by Cherif Jnr. The early exchanges were dominated by Imperial although an early shot from UCL talisman James ‘Just a shit’ Greatorex produced a smart save by Garner. The first goal came from a vicious shot by Bjorkstrand and, following immense pressure, the UCL defender had no choice but to thrash the rebound home from 3 yards. Imperial continued to dominate with multiple chances much to the dismay of the UCL wags present. The second half brought no respite to either the weather, which was appropriately North-sideways sleet, nor the UCL goal. A whipped freekick from Tofis resulted in another outstanding finish from their right midfielder this time as he placed his clearance effortlessly into their top corner. The dubious goals panel (controversially) gave it as an own goal despite Tofis’ pleas. Wedemeyer and Nielsen were introduced to kill off the game with one having more impact than the other. Within 2 touches the former was on the scoresheet. Hill played a simple 5 yard pass to the ruthless German who, with one touch, turned and got it out his feet before placing a finesse shot over the keeper from what at first appeared to be at least 100 yards, but was later confirmed as 40. The calls of, “Keep the ball!” from the IC midfielders, prior to the shot, were a textbook example of how mindgames are still of paramount importance in the modern game. Pandemonium ensued, as Wedemeyer opted for a Henry-esque silencing celebration whilst cheers of “German efficiency!” echoed around the stadium/pitch. The game wound down with a few more chances for Imperial but none taken. We left taking our “One way” sign with us. The chants of ‘Get back in your biscuit tin, Ginger’ and ‘Oi number 11, number 11, mate, number 11, you’re shit’ were absent but even without our 12th man, victory was comfortable. Smithy’s industry won him man of the match but everyone was impressive; however, justice will not truly be served until further destruction of UCL in the cup.

Next up were St George’s on the 31st of October. The reverse fixture the season before brought back bad memories of a 10 O’clock kick off and a Cypriot finishing the final 5 minutes in goal. The squad were buoyed by the false news that they now played on 3G. However, upon arrival we were dismayed to hear we would in fact be on grass in the overwhelming stadium of high flying Tooting and Mitcham FC. Solace was only found in the pitchside chicken van and proper seating for our ever growing fan club. Again Imperial dominated despite inappropriate footwear and whining from Tofis that he needed insoles for his boots. A wunderstrike from Tofis opened the scoring from a corner delivered by the consistently dangerous Dale. After the ball was weakly cleared, Tofis headed it over an opposition defender before unleashing an unstoppable drive through the keepers’ butter fingers into the net to deafening chants of Golaccio from no one. Wedemeyer continued his impressive scoring streak with a clever right-footed finish from a Tofis cross.

Half time provided relief for a visibly shaking St George’s against an Imperial team smelling blood. Imperial pressed to extend their lead with more slick play drawing ‘Olé’s from the crowd. Such was their dominance that Amjad found himself in approximately an acre of space all of 2 yards from their goal, dead centre, with the ball before him. No one was quite prepared for what followed: with the goal at his mercy the pressure got to him. Luke Varney’s midweek miss against Southampton in the Capital One Cup was forgotten in an instant. There was screaming silence from the travelling supporters which was shattered by a high pitched moan from Amjad’s mouth – a cry of despair, anguish, pain, remorse, guilt and pure regret. The sadness seen on his face was comparable to that of Achilles mourning the death of Patroclus. He received a Man of the Match vote from Garner after the match, but this was widely assumed to be a sympathetic gesture. Bjorkstrand took a leaf out of Amjad’s book by promptly spurning a host of chances that Fernando Torres himself would have struggled to miss. Unfortunately, overcommitment from the Imperial team and a few missed challenges from an otherwise untested defence allowed St Georges to pull back a sloppy goal, the first goal they had conceded in approximately a decade of football. This served as a wake up call, lifting Imperial with Wedemeyer winning a penalty after a disgusting challenge from a St Georges defender, prompting the 2 travelling supporters (Smithy’s parents) to brandish imaginary cards which were unheeded by the immoveable referee.

The resulting penalty was comfortably converted by Robinson, sending the keeper to his right whilst nestling the ball in the opposite corner. Smithy won man of the match for the second week running earning himself another embroidered star on his kit bag (@SmithysBag). The result was more important than the scoreline but it was frustrating to have conceded. The squad agreed that we were not good enough compared to the new standards set by a team which very possibly could win everything this year.