There is a history between the Royals and the Falcons, and it has not always been a pleasant one. Within each club, there are members who viscerally dislike each other. We remember the words last year from Brian, of the Gloucester Hornets, who said that he and his team had been "Falconed" and, as last year, headed into this match with some trepidation.

The pre-match situation offered some worries. Substitute coach Green found his car broken into and, worse, half the Royals' beer stolen just before heading off to the game - he arrived just 15 minutes before game time. Jersey washer Ken Slemko found himself on standby for a 5:00 flight from Toronto, and raced up with the jerseys but 10 minutes before kickoff. This chaotic preparation manifested itself on the field, as the Royals clearly had their heads elsewhere. The absence of the calming influence of both Coach Harry van Dyk and the injured Mario Arnone only made things worse.

The fact that the Falcons were playing with just 9 men seemed to serve only to throw the men in blue that much more. In fact, within 5 minutes, the Royals were behind to these 9 men. A long ball from the back found not only the Royals' defense, but the whole team, not concentrating, and the lone Falcons striker captured the ball and went in unchallenged to beat diving keeper Larry Everett before anyone knew what had hit them.

Within minutes, the Royals would surely know what had hit them. Recriminations rang around the park as questions about marking were asked in a less than complimentary fashion. The Falcons players, already up for a fight, pushed forward, keeping the Royals off balance for several minutes with some quite physical play. The Royals would not simply lay down and die, but things got worse for them before they got better. Their play remained scattered and, then, a horrific tackle at knee level put team dynamo Graham Cathcart out for the game. Initial worries about torn ligaments would turn out to be false, but the Royals had this in their minds as they - slowly - began to turn the tide. Nigel Parker, Matt Blackwell and Riccardo Brun Del Re began exerting their influence in midfield, the defense took hold of the Royals' end, and after a half hour, the Royals began to see some chances. Marwan Kassis had a nice header off a corner that went just wide. Brian Harcombe was in resplendent form, bounding about as if he hadn't been a pack a day man in twenty years. Brian Mackintosh, pushed back into midfield on an emergency basis, came close too. But, halftime came along and still no goal. The atmosphere amongst the Royals was not good.

Warnings to coach Green about whining amongst (? ed.) the 8 year old he had agreed to coach began to pale next to the efforts from the leather lungs among the geriatric set. What was needed was a cool head to create a calm influence among the team, but with all the bitching, nobody could hear what Cathi Fournier was saying.

The wounded Cathcart did his best, but all that could be made out was something about his kneecap moving sideways. Perhaps if the team had helped him up from rolling on the ground, things could have been better. But, Cathcart's suggestion to move Parker to the middle of the midfield began to pay off in the second half and, within 10 minutes, the score was level. A nice lateral ball across the top of the area from Kassis was just beyond Green, but left winger Andy Steele, who clearly could not have been watching the English during the European Championship, (actually, by this point, the English had gone home, so nobody was watching them) lashed an excellent shot into the upper right corner of the net. Green tried to say something to Steele about a dummie, but Steele simply told him not to be so hard on himself - "and did ya see that shot by the way! With me right foot yet!"

The flow of the game became one way in nature, and the solid defense of Mike Fournier, Jeff McNamee, Paul Dickins and Fergus MacDonald didn't let anything through, allowing Dickins to move up frequently to aid in attack. 15 minutes later, the Royals would get their deliverance, albeit in a strange way. (Just so nobody misinterprets, although the previous sentence used the words "deliverance" and "strange", no allusion should be made to Ned Beatty's pain). Some fairly constant pressure brought about a corner and, as the Royals set up to take it, they saw the forlorn figure of Jeff "No Goals" McNamee trotting, nay, zooming forward with the expectant grin of Wile E. Coyote under a cliff. Seized by a moment of intense guilt (read report from last game of last year), Green aimed an inswinger at Jeff's prominent cranium. Alas, it was a little low, but winger Kenny Slemko came to the rescue (actually, given that it got to Kenny instead of Jeff, that would mean it was a lot lower). Quickly and cleverly reading his angles, Kenny yelled out: The sum of the squares of a right-angled triangle equals the sum of the square of the other side!" (yeah, right, O mathematical one, ed.) and glanced the ball off the back of a diving (OK, OK, this is old timers, let's say a leaning) Falcons defender, and put it into the back of the net.

The referee, a friendly old fellow, perhaps feeling guilty over the calls he was not making for rough play by the Falcons, readily agreed to give the goal to our Ukrainian import, and from then on, the Royals focused more on adding to their lead than defending. Glory boys, every single one of them, I tell ya. Every rush forward, after he lost the ball, Dickins would glare at Green for not covering back. That Green was for the most part on the sideline didn't seem to matter. (I'll maybe forget that slur, ed.)

Eventually, the midfield did begin to cover back, Larry began to relax, and the Royals were never really threatened. If this game were a book, it would clearly be a bad one, but the last page would read 2-1 for the Royals. Yes, they won, but the Royals could clearly not be happy with their performance.

Our fans were disappointed, but didn't grumble out loud. Cathi had brought along her daughter, and promised her that we would never be this bad again. Marwan had his daughter out, along with other members of his fan club. They, too, were polite about the awfulness they had seen.

After the game, we heard the distressing news about compatriot Nigel Jackson's serious ankle injury, suffered during the 3rd division game played at the adjoining Woodroffe field. He busted his ankle, plus has torn ligaments. His femme has presently whisked him off to the Caribbean for some R'n'R: maybe when he's back we'll have to buy him an ale to help with his recovery. In any event, we all wish him the best and hope he's back in his dazzling playing form soon.

On the positive front, at least Harry wasn't around to see this, but we had better be better against a very good - and likely very motivated - Internationals C team next week! In particular, we need to communicate better on the pitch, move and cover for each other more fluidly, and keep our talk positive.