Capital Canaries 8 London Hibs 1

Make mine 4 doubles, Daddy.

Perrett floats like a butterfly

Norwich Line-up: McMeckan, Slater, Bennett, Howard, Perrett, Tett, Jelbert, Barrett, Utting, Davies, Gallagher. Subs: Boucher (for Bennett, 75), Seecharan N, Higgins.

Having spent the morning watching the senior side liberally apply the vaseline, take their shorts down and bend over at Portman Road , the London branch would have been forgiven for going into this game a little dejected. But a bit of pre-match solidarity and a rousing talk from the gaffer put that to bed and City were on their game from the off, delivering their best all round performance of the season so far.

Champions Hibs, after having struggled for early season form, welcomed several players back and arrived at CSSC with renewed confidence on the back of an 8-1 mauling of ManU the previous week. The Norwich side saw the return of sex tourists Utting and Tett to the starting line-up, and Bennett slotted into defence in place of Harris, who was waiting at home with hot water and towels, wondering what the hell he was supposed to be doing with them.

The first 20 minutes were nip and tuck. Norwich had most of the ball without creating any clear-cut opportunities, and were dealing comfortably with Hibs’ forays forward. Slater, despite his generally deteriorating health, marshalled the defence with aplomb, read the game well and picked his passes carefully to feed the willing runners from midfield. Bennett and Howard were rock solid at the back, protected by Tett and Jelbert, leaving Keeps with very little to do all afternoon except play with his lustrous hair. Because he’s worth it.

The breakthrough came when Utting released Gappy down the left who twisted and turned before releasing the ball inside to Davies in support, who took a touch before leathering it past the onrushing keeper. A few minutes later it was 2-0. Beardo geography teacher lookalike Perrett delivered the first of several telling diagonal balls behind the Hibs back three, Gallagher meeting the ball at the back stick with a neat finish from an awkward height back across the goal.

Hibs were rattled and the third goal came shortly before half-time. Postman Perrett delivered again from the right, the ball missing everyone in the middle only to bounce to Davies, on the far left of goal, who met the ball on the trolley with his swinger, arrowing the ball past a helpless keeper and inside the far post.

From this point the result was never in doubt, and it was just a case of how many. To be fair to Hibs they were beset by injuries. Two of their team limped off in the first half, a further two picked up knocks in the second half, and another was clearly struggling with a non-specific trouser infection. But this should take nothing away from a cool-headed, disciplined, and at times, devastating performance from Norwich .

Not content with a comfortable win, "The Boss" and Capt. Utting expect more .. more goals, more blood and sweat, more humiliation.

The yellows started the second half as they had finished the first. Tett and Jelbert were running the midfield and the latter got himself on the scoresheet ten minutes into the half. Davies played the ball along the line from inside the Norwich half. Jelbert collected the ball on (but not over) the touchline, outpaced and outfought the covering defender, and cut inside before lifting a curling shot past the Hibs stopper into the roof of the net. Cue pandemonium and plenty of hugging and inappropriate touching by Higgins and Seecharan on the Norwich bench.

Hibs got their consolation goal with twenty minutes left. For the first time all afternoon Norwich failed to deal with a long throw. The ball was flicked on at the near post and headed in from six yards leaving Keeps no chance. The way the scorer dug the ball out of the back of the net, and sprinted back to halfway, clearly showed he thought they had a way back into the game. But this blot on an exemplary afternoon just served to galvanise Norwich, and they scored four times in the final period without reply.

Gappy got the first, pouncing on a rebound from Perrett’s freekick. He then won a penalty when his cross was charged down after being released by Utting down the left, which Davies converted for his hat-trick. Gallagher coolly slotted Jelbert’s through ball before Davies, fed by Gappy, rounded things off with a strike from just inside the box [Ed: which, incidentally, moves Davies into CCFC all-time, top scorer spot, netting a whopping 88 goals in 59 appearances].

The only sour point of the afternoon was when Jelbert announced that since he wasn’t man of the match this week he didn’t want to play next week. Boucher, silver fox and all-round utility man, back from romancing in Canada , played a solid cameo at centre back and could make a return to his favoured holding berth in the midfield. Also back in contention could be Callum Wilson but don’t put any money on it. G Man also said he couldn’t be bothered next week allowing for Harris’ return, providing he can convince Mrs H to deliver his offspring before Sunday. A hard stare should do the trick. It usually does.

Norwich scorers: Davies (4), Gallagher (2), Jelbert, Barrett

MotM: Davies

"Lean, mean and quite simply .. a GOAL-SCORING Machine!"*

Strike 2!

Please join me in congratulating MATT DAVIES who, with his goal haul yesterday, has become the Capital Canaries all-time top goal scorer with 88 Goals in 59 appearances!

On burying the pen, Matt equalled CCFC legend, Lee Boswell who netted 87 goals in 124 appearances. And the final low drive into the bottom left, took Matt to new and lofty heights that I am sure even he dared not dream about.

Well Done Matt! Especially since you reached Lee's long-standing record in less than half the number of appearances.

I am sure the lads all join me in willing you on to break the 100 mark before the end of the season.

LEGEND.

On the Ball!

* Title quote borrowed, with the utmost respect, from the Master himself - Lee Boswell.

Birmingham 2 Capital Canaries 2

Take it up the Brum!

Team line-up: McMecken, Howard, Harris, Higgins (75), Seecharan N (45), Perrett, Slater, Jelbert, Barrett, Davies, Galagher, Utting (45), Tett (75).

On a not that wet, not that windy, not that sunny afternoon, the Big C’s faced a Birmingham United team who were fresh from their best run of the season, a hatrick of muggings, a brace of car thefts and a burglary all on Friday night showing the blues really are returning to form.

In a refreshing change the Canaries actually had men on the bench and didn’t have to assure an unsuspecting Tom Morely that the blisters really were worth it. Utting and Tettley, not that fresh from their trip to Thailand, chose to stand next to, rather than sit on the bench, blaming one too many nights of ping pong; "Keeps" seemed particularly sympathetic. Perrett, sporting a strange meatloaf like growth all over his face demanded his team start like a Bat out of Hell, he then knelt down and carried on polishing his platinum plimsoles.

The canaries wrestled hard to gain control of the first 30 mins, a few promising balls played forward by the yellow banded Barney McEnroe and some nicely floated balls from Harris and Seech gave messers Gappeo, Davieseo and Galagherinho meat to chew on, but sadly no goal. Minutes later good work from the midfield gave Galagher another chance to run at the defense, he gladly obliged but to the dismay of the crowd the recently self proclaimed goal provider took things a little too far, squaring the ball for….no one.

With a goalless first half looking even more likely than another sad intra-canary criticism, the lack of a very debatable offside decision allowed the half decent numero neuf to finish his earl grey, establish the ref had chosen not to blow for the obvious, and stride forward to lob a helpless Keeps.

Halftime 1:0.

A concise, positive and clearly constructed team talk banished thoughts of any more in-house moaning and immediately left the intelligent, degree bearing Norfolkonians itching to put things right. Their start could not have been better. A 14 pass move from the kick off gave an indication of what was to come, moments later Davies laid the ball back to Jelbert who stroked it out wide to the onrushing and slightly sore substitute Utting, he drilled the ball across the box and gleefully watched Matt Upson’s shorter fatter brother stab the ball home. Utting claimed the goal.

The Yellow defense, led by the fit again Higgins, continued stifling the occasional Birmingham attacks with Keeps managing to maintain concentration by pretending he was writing his next squash match report. Howard’s solid defending was complemented by a few ‘lets go mental’ runs spanning half the length of the pitch. Inspired by this Jelbert played a neat one two with the heavily tanned Utting and flew down the wing definitely keeping the ball inside the sideline, a deliberately third rate cross rebounded back to Gappy who unsurprisingly let fly with a rasping shot into the bottom left of the goal. As his team mates rushed to congratulate him signs that his recent leap to fame were causing mental anger management issues were confirmed when he pulled his shirt over his head, hoping no one would notice him, when they did, he unloaded a barrel of unpleasant swear words in quick succession.

With Perrett continuingly whipping in dangerous corners and Tett now on the field and showcasing his usual good touches and clever distribution, not to mention his post-Thailand John Wayne-like run, things looked back on track for the yellows. After a strange anatomy lesson assuring followers that your head is somewhere between the calf and the heel, the final moments can only be described in a rhyme;

With the minutes ticking down, and the Canaries hunger eating up the ground,
The yellows were rightly playing out the game, their defense looking sound,
A final kick forward by the girls in blue, saw a collective casual trot from the midland so rubbishest crew.
Perrett swung, deliberately missing with a wild punt, and the ref gave his final decision of the day confirming he was an absolute……fool.

The last minute equaliser ensured the Canaries left the field in a dejected manner, the final chant of ‘bring back the gay ref’ summed up their afternoon.

Fulltime 2:2

MoTM: Jelbert

Remember, remember the 5th of November ...

.. gunpowder (or should that be damp fireworks) and treason as Norwich plot to cede the upper hand to a resilient Stoke City.

CCFC 2 Stoke City 2

Team Line-up: McMeckan, Slater, Harris, Howard, Barrett, Perrett, Jelbert, Morley, Seecharan N, Davies, Gallagher.

It was a day just made for free flowing football, but ended as lame as a damp firework.

The early exchanges saw both teams battling for advantage, the ever excellent Jelbert with the assistance of Morley dominating the centre of the park. Stoke's main threat consisted of the long ball over the back for their 'speed merchant' of a centre forward to run on to.

Fortunately Slater, acting as Captain, manager and mentor distributed his defence wisely and chose Howard to mark the man in question. This effectively nullified any chance that Stoke had to progress in the first-half as Howard intercepted the ball on several occassions. The one time Stoke did break, Slater launched himself in to a challenge and reappeared with the ball adjusted to his towelling headband, calmly passing the ball in to midfield.

Although far from their best, Norwich gradually applied the pressure. After 20 mins another excellent corner from Perrett was met at the far post by Harris, who being marked by absolutely nobody managed to force the ball back towards goal. Stoke were relieved to see the chance cleared from the line only for it to break to Morley who powered the ball into the roof of the net. Not pretty but very,very effective.

Stoke continued to probe forward and from a corner had several shots at goal but just as they appeared to level Gappy, in line with the goal mouth, dived to his left, swung a leg and cleared the ball .The game then turned into a really cheesy Pantomime as Stoke insisted that "it was behind you" ... "on no it wasn't " replied Norwich's roving midfielder ... "oh, yes it was" the Stoke team bayed ... I swear I saw Bobby Davro by the corner flag ...

The only passage of quality football in the first half saw the hardworking Davies interchanging with Gappy ,the resulting ball found Gallagher who skilfully drew the defence by shaping to shoot. The resulting overlap brought back memories of the great Barbarians try of the mid 70's with Seechy carrying the ball (and himself) over the goal line. A delight!

HT: 2-0

Games are often decided by very small details ... the very small detail in this case being that Morley had size 11 feet but had chosen to wear his sister's size 6s! With blisters reducing Tom's ability to move, let alone run, Norwich found themselves effectively down to 10 men. The pressure began to mount. Stoke threw caution to the wind and began to 'double team' Seechy on the left. With 15 mins left the extra man found space, resulting in a scrambled goal.

Now two key decisions were left that afternoon for the official. The first being whether Gappy should be penalised for being fitter, faster and better than the Stoke central defender. Gappy 'hunted down' the floundering defender in to his own box, calmly robbed him, and was about to pass the ball into the corner of the net when the referee awarded a free kick to Stoke. Clearly the Norwich player had broken Law number 437, which states that 'no individual should have superior ability to the opposing player '.

And indeed he was right. Gallagher sacrificed his creative instincts and sensibly moved back into the Canaries midfield. Norwich managed to string a couple of passes together culminating in Perrett being released on the right hand edge of the box. Now Tom seized his opportunity, driving into the box, assisted by his now (in)famous "slowest stepover in football history". The defender could not cope with such skill and fell off balance and lunged for the ball ... Note to ref: when a defender commits to a challenge totally off-balance, you will hear one of 2 noises ... the first being a low pitched thud, about the consistency of putty being dropped from arms-length if contact is made with the ball. The second a loud 'crack' as a shin pad is shattered into tiny pieces ... every single player, Stoke and Norwich alike, looked at the penalty spot. But oh dear! The ref got his thuds and cracks mixed up ( I suspect not for the first time) and waved play on.

You can all guess what happened next, as Stoke having left 5 players upfront broke away and slotted a well taken goal passed the excellent McMeckan.

Although this was perhaps a fair result it felt all wrong to the tiring Norwich players. Football, Hey? Bloody hell!!

MoTM: Harris