by Ben Sharvell & Nicolas Guimont (due to Nicolas leaving soon and thinks he is too good to be nominated for turkey in any of his last 4 games, he has requested to write the second half of the report in order to complete his Raiders journey by being a turkey)

Early game scheduled at 09:30am and I’m in the starting 11, what an excitement, I’m already playing the game in my mind while changing the diaper of my daughter, oh yeah, it’s gonna be a dirty dirty game.

The nightmare of my miss against celebrities still haunting months after, I’m seeking for redemption, time to pull out the A game, but damn, legs hurt from Colin punishment training and frustration of losing against the Saints.

06:00am alarm, 03h30 before the kick off, it’s time to feed the 2 beasts. Milk for my little angel, warrior smoothie myself ; Veggie Bacon, eggs, backed beans, protein shake and redbull. Today is my day. I read it on my tattoos, tattoos do not lie. 15 minutes to remove the bigoudis curls from my hairs and I’m on my way.

Temperature is already quite high, a game ongoing and the center of the field has no grass, I suspect Craig to come there to practice his tackles. He denied pretending he’s too busy being a good husband and has no time for that gardening, moreover, he claims that his natural talent do not need practice. Colin dark look at him make him rush to the Far East corner from the field pretending to take a pee.

Team speech announced the line up, Miguel as Goal Keeper, Olly, Peter, Ohashi and Aron on the defensive line, midfield is Toby, Edwin, Ben, and Bao the French fellow, front line is Enzo Zidane aka Luke and myself. Time to come back to the winning tracks!

Good first minutes from the raiders, winning ball contest while the bench is wondering which players has the most muscle pains after our Wednesday training.

Long pass from Ohashi which ends in FC Quan camp. The Raiders block is slowly advancing and no one is suspecting what’s going to happen.

I know, I’ve seen the stars alignment last night at Glow skybar, that’s my moment. The ball is thrown to one opponent, I massaged him the right side of his butt, kindly, with my knee, managed to put my body forward while my opponent is expressing some sympathy toward me and obtained the ball, pushed the ball view meters in direction of the cage.
I watched the goal keeper, he watched me too but couldn’t stand my determination look and look down. PAM, I threw a curved shoot coming directly from Olive and Tom, the keeper is totally defenseless and ended accompanying the ball into the cage.
This one is for you daddy in law, after a goal like that, you’ll have no choice but putting yourself on my side, my daughter will have the England flag tattoo on her skin by the beginning of the world cup!

Games goes on, and Raiders maintained their domination, beautiful combination of passes in the midfield initiated by Toby lands in Ben feet who shoot a magnificent shoot below the bar, well done mates!!

But Raiders squad came back to its old demons; FC QUAN is regaining some ball possession and get some opportunities, our Miguel pushing away the shots like a possessed muay thai fighter.

Unfortunately, after a freekick, Miguel pushed the ball forward and a FC Quan player which had well followed, managed to arrive first and scored, 2-1. 5 minutes after, corner kick and FC Quan score again with a header, frustrating, the scorer is smaller than any Raiders …

Half time, 2-2 Ohashi, Bao, Enzo Zidane, and myself are substituted by Hoggy, Wouter, Craig and Nico.

2nd alf.

Ello ello. Let’s get stuck into these little quick bastards. 2-2 now so I ave my battle plan all mapped out, they will be calling me Napoleon by the end of zis game.

Thank god that stupid fluffy aired tattooed English prick is off.

Although, that was an amazing goal he scored. He definitely meant it.

‘Over ere, over ere’, I scream at Edwin, as e takes the ball away from FC Quan’s number 10 in the centre of the dirt pit. The ball goes long for Oggy. A bit too far that one, but a chance to stretch my legs. Still feeling eavy from Wednesday’s training. Need to find the Thiery Enry from within.

The second alf presses on with determination from both sides and FC Quan go another goal up. 3-2 now and they were aving their 15min of domination. First, a run down the left flank, leaving the little English prick Craig ‘never passes’ Armitt, for 6 and best efforts from O’ashi olding them back and then blocked by Olly.

Another shot on target by them and… ‘what are you doing?’, I ad to ask aloud, as I watch Miquel pump the ball in ze air. ‘Zis is not a volleyball ball game! You are not on a Catalonian bitch now’, e is no Barthez, that’s for sure.

Brave efforts from Pete, as we keep le score ze same. And out for a corner. I suppose they need their Napoleon to come back and elp defend. Straight over my ed, and cleared by le wall.

By now, le sun is burning down, making me sweat worse than my favorite piece of Brie on an ot day in Marseille.

Oh la la, a long goal kick from Olly and we’re off, zis is it!

Out wide to Ben2, forward to Moi. olding le ball up nicely, I might add.

“CAAAAAAAAMM. OOOOooooonnnnn WAIDERSSSSSSSSS!” Bellows from le side line. Stupid cornemuse twat, your not even Scottish.

Dust from Edwin and Toby’s efforts in the middle, twirling still in the air and must ave put Oggy off a 50 meter attempt, trying to match the first goal of the game.

But we took back possession and started working like a team again.

Unfortunately, after several failed long balls, FC Quan countered and we conceded a goal.

Which Miquel took to mean, no point gained, nor lost, simply ‘change of server’ under official bitch volleyball rules.

And zen another goal. Zist goal did not come from me getting nutmeg-ed and giving away possession just like Zidane’s head didn’t really connect with Materazzi. D’accord.

Zis plan was turning into Waterloo all over again.

But, we did not give up le fight, so we battled the elements and pressed them.

Then like a beautiful sprout of garlic, in le spring, popping its first bud out of nowhere. Le Raven, bursts through FC Quan’s defense and scores.

J’adore le way e scores. On and off le pitch.

In to the last ten and the other team are melting. I was impressed, the extra Zumba class with coach at the UFC gym last night, was paying off.

Battling on like a, brilliant Boudeaux grape, bursting with that, how you say? ‘Je ne sais pas…. Va Va voom’. Oui.

As further attempts to break them were fruitless, like a 1978 Pinot Noir, we were strong and never stopped believing zat we were good enough to come back with only minutes to go.

We drained them for all they ad. Like a Cabernet Sauvignon cross Merlot. Unfortunately, Final score 5-3 to them.

We proceeded to clap the other team. I don’t know why we do that? I think zis is a cultural thing and English tradition that the coach has been trying to implement all season. You wouldn’t catch a french team doing zis.

Crowding in the shade under the rusty metal shelter, the team reflects as Clem, who thinks e is too good to play in the B team, joins us to look forward, towards the next game and le final test of zis incredible teams courage, strength and determination, in the final stages of a season where, We Are No1, We Are le team to beat! We Will fight to Win ze title. I ope.

Edwin then kindly reminds us on ze group chat that we are only an amateur footballing group of expats and not fighting for a Eredivisie league squad place.

Then the stupid English man suggests a place, who does e think e is? David Ginola or something. I bet e thinks is surname name is french for orse. I watch Le ole man from Olland jump-on the back of is beast of a machine. A lot better than Aron’s bike. E then proceeded to take us to a really cool, chilled choice of location for turkey nominations where e also got wrongly nominated for a turkey.

Pete was man of the match. Deserved so. After all, e as just lost Wenger so give him something to smile about after losing two very influential French men in is life.

Au revoir le Raiders. I will always keep a sweet taste in my mouth, like a bottle of Prosecco welcome at a champagne party. I never thought a french man would would be so accepted into a team of so many other nationalities and an English coach.