Line-up (5-3-2)
Sloane; Johnston; Evans (Pratt 45), Moore, Jacobs, Eyre; O’Toole, Newman, Littlechild (Cavanagh 70); Kuczynski (Butt 75); Downey. Subs not used: Dan

Clissold Park Rangers triumphed for the second week running, this time 2-1 at home against their old rivals, The Atholl 1965. It was another victory inspired by le grand Barthez, Steve Newman.

The groundwork for the victory was laid out before the game. The team talk showed that a new CPR philosophy has emerged: results first, pretty football second. No team name change to ‘CP Dons’ was, however, suggested.

So, the team ran out for their first home league game of the season on the new domicile of South Park. There were ominous signs for the games ahead: someone had pitched one of the goal nets around the wrong way (doh!) and several fiendish bogs had emerged on the pitch, ready to gather in the inattentive midfielder. The Rangers will need all their navigational skills this season.

The pre-match activities dragged on for longer than usual as CP tried to stay warm waiting for the referee to turn up. He eventually arrived and started the match off over half-an-hour late.

The dear ref, having already delayed the time for hitting the pub (sacrilege!), further upset proceedings by insisting that all jewellery was removed. Apparently that included Kuczynski’s inoffensive gold ring (an important enough issue to order the garrulous Gael temporarily off the pitch) but not Atholl’s striker’s necklace. But CPR did not reach for their dictionaries; it was clear that the shock of the opening games of the season has left its mark, as full focus was maintained.

The discipline was rewarded soon afterwards. After some solid graft down the right, the ball was whipped in by O’Toole for Newman, who found himself unmarked by the far post. He rose expectantly and headed the ball, which thudded against the crossbar, rebounding towards him.

What happened next is unclear. The ref didn’t manage to properly view the incident, and neither did your reporter. Some sources, variable in reliability, suggest the big man may have made some use of one of his upper limbs. Others just lean forward in their chairs, look you in the eye and say, in hushed voices, “Son, what happened in that goalmouth that day is for those men (and Pratt’s girlfriend) to know. Maybe one day the world will be ready to listen, but, until that day, the story must remain untold.”

Whatever that story, the ball nestled in the back of the net and the Atholl dejectedly kicked off once more: 1-0 to CPR.

The match continued with fairly even possession for both teams. CPR scrapped away, and in doing so Jacobs picked up a booking for kicking an Atholl player as if it were his opponent’s fault for his lumbering first touch.

A highlight came as half-time approached. Atholl worked the ball in from the left and, after several flying challenges, the ball fell loose to an opposition midfielder on the edge of the box. All CPR bodies were seemingly too far away to prevent a free strike on goal and the man pivoted, shaping to shoot with his right foot.

Then, drawing on reserves of knowledge from his fighter pilot days, Simon ‘Maverick’ Evans scythed in from the right wing with a sliding challenge, his outstretched leg directed like the nose of an F16 fighter. He crunched into the man and achieved the defender’s Holy Grail: he scuppered a great chance for the opposition and left his opponent in a heap on the floor, whimpering to the sidelines. Grrrr.

Half-time: CPR 1, The Atholl 0

The teams switched around and belief was evident in the CPR ranks. The team started brightly as Rickie demonstrated once again his potentially-devastating form as he exhibited ballerina-like skills, pirouetting around one of the opposition defenders and chipping the ball forwards – only for it to ping back off the stanchion.

Atholl managed to level affairs not long into the second half. Moore, who had given his necklace-wearing charge for the afternoon full respect and had not commented on his fashion sense (no doubt fearing another ‘what! Highlights at 33!’ comment), was blameless as the striker cheekily back-heeled a low cross into the bottom left-hand corner of the net. Even Sloane’s super-latex mittens could not reach: 1-1.

But CPR knew grit was the order of the day, digging in once again. No quarter was being shown as Eyre, Newman, Pratt and Littlechild all picked up second-half bookings. Cavanagh’s presence also brought the team some extra zest, as the pseudo-Irishman gave his customary commitment from the bench. The team kept faith, knowing that they deserved the victory.

Salvation came as the minutes ticked down. Once again, the pivotal figure of Steve Newman was to thank. Mistakenly believing that the game was staged for the purposes of the 2012 British long-throwing Olympic trials, he launched one of his many long throws into the box from the touchline about level with the top of the 18-yard box.

This time, however, apparently dissatisfied with his team-mates’ prowess in the air, Newman arrowed the ball directly at the goal. Cavanagh leaped and missed – but did enough to distract the opposition keeper who flapped and inadvertently gloved the ball into his own net. Delight for CPR! 2-1.

The remaining minutes were eked out by the side, sticking to Johnston’s restrained tactics as he, in turn, marshalled the defence to hold firm. Holding out for a win proved to be, once again, a skill that CPR can, and do, possess.

Final score: CPR 2, The Atholl 1

Match Reporter: Garry Griffin