Match Day 2

ASS: Australian Swamp Soccer team, originally uploaded by digiphotoneil.

After a short night at the ceilidh (that's Scottish for 'piss-up', but it sounds much more cultural in the Gaelic), ASS dragged themselves out of bed, or off the floor for those who had no bed and prepared for the finals. Those preparations consisted of a fantastic pre-game fry up. It is said that armies march on their stomachs (what are the feet for then?), but a swamp soccer team definitely plays on some part of the intestinal tract. Fed and watered, we headed down to the pitch to see who would be the next to fall to the great ASS team. Yes, with our better than perfect match record, ASS was getting cocky.


A quick look at the line up showed that the Antipodean teams were punching above their weight: ASS was in one semifinal against local pub team 'MacClures Swamp Stars' while the New Zealand All Muds were drawn against the Belgians in the other. It seemed only right that there should be a trans-Tasman final, but there was the small matter of the semis first...

Putting clipped vowels aside, ASS cheered on the All Muds against the Belgians. Kiwi affinity for the mud looked like it would help them, but the Belgian team had a few spry players that were able to dance across the mud like elves. And a lot more reserves. The All Muds went down 1-0, and dreams of a swamp soccer/Bledisloe final were dashed. My dreams of watching them try and perform a haka in knee deep mud were thwarted.

Having seen the quality of the opposition at this level, we knew we'd have to lift our game. With a supportive crowd (mainly the Irish and Kiwis) we took to the pitch against the team of Scots, whose warm up consisted of a downing a few ales. They were masters of the pre match psych-out games... but weren't masters of the on field game. Watch the video below to see their feeble attempt at a penalty shot. Two fantastic long range efforts from Tim and Mike were enough to seal the win and put us through to the final.

Watching a few of the mens' matches before our final, I was struck by how seriously these guys took it. It was a completely different sport. The match before our final went to penalties (I think it went to 7 or 8), only to be lost when one keeper stepped up for his shot and missed. The pain on his face as he fell to the ground in despair was priceless. Schadenfreude before the fall...

ASS lined up against De Rode Modderduivels in the final, whose team was so large they managed to break the bandstand. The final was conducted in a much more professional atmosphere than any other game, with the ref calling the captains to the centre to explain the rules and shake hands. An even larger crowd had gathered now that the sun had appeared and they were expecting a fierce contest from the two national teams. And fierce they got, the highlight being Megan turning on one of the Belgian elves when he turned the already dirty game a bit dirtier. Megan's revenge got a cheer from the crowd and decided the allegiance of any 'swinging voters' in the crowd - no one cheers a guy beating up a girl, but a girl shoving a guy face first into the mud...

Unfortunately crowd support wasn't enough to give us the second wind we needed in the bog: exhaustion was showing, our 'build up momentum and charge' tactic was failing in the face of the swamp dancing elves who could steal the ball and actually dribble away. But for some fantastic saves from Tim in goals, ASS would have been down and out by half time. The second half saw a slight resurgence from the green and gold, getting some good possession and into attacking positions, thanks largely to being awarded free kicks, but we were always thwarted by the elves and the ever present Belgian substitutes. The Belgians put another one past us when I made the shocking decision to try and pass back to the keeper: an elf danced past me to take the ball and not even Tim could save the shot. After an exhausting and challenging match, the Modderduivels took the match 2-0.


Although we weren't the champions, we definitely were the darlings of the press, with almost everyone with a camera snapping shots of the lASSes at every opportunity, and local photographers asking us to pose in the mud. This includes a 3 page spread in TNT magazine, where the cheap bastards have shockingly misquoted me (see p 67) for the write up rather than take up my offer of writing a short article.

All in all, a great weekend, despite the cold, the rain, and the midges... but you'd get that in Scotland no matter what. Although the comp is over, there will no doubt be more ASS news. Waiting for the plane back from Glasgow we've already come up with the idea of an ASS reunion monopoly pub crawl...