Well dear reader, once again you will have to endure the familiar prose of yours truely as the oh-so-recent failure of the Bees to trounce Bebbington is reflected in the general apathy that greeted the (by now familiar, surely?) post-match enquiry as to who would relish the opportunity of airing their literary talents to the world at large by taking on the priviliged role of match report author, and dazzling their unsuspecting public with a veritable torrent of observational wit, description of sporting derring-do imbibed with passion and not forgetting that most traditional , nee mandatory, trait of Killer Bee mission reports, a magnificent distortion of the truth.

(And that, Yokker me old mucka, is 108 words, or 567 characters, or even 674 characters if I count the spaces, so this year I'll be getting the Shakespeare jobbie thanks, and not the Stick 'o Shite)

With less than half the swarm available for the game, the friendly Vets came to the rescue, and we were able to at least put eleven names down on the teamsheet! This is not to say, of course, that we had eleven men playing - that would be far too simple! Instead, poor old Jim Stafford was driving around Cheshire looking for the ground, whilst Bowdon fielded ten men against, well six boys, four adults, and a keeper. The Judge magnanimously volunteered to ensure that the laws of hockey were adhered to, and Colin bravely volunteered to go in nets for the Bees. Unfortunately, one man down, Colin got pretty busy in goal, with Bebbington scoring immediately and maintaining the pressure throughout the first half. Even the appearance of Mr Stafford after thirty minutes, bringing us up to full strength, failed to improve things enough, and we went into half time five nil down.

At half time Mr Blackwell took over on the whistle having had the thankless task of defending against a series of youngster-rich attacks by the oppo. With Jim & Brian Jones manfully battling away at the back, Bowdon made it into the Bebbington's dee on several occassions, but with all four of the oppos adults playing on their back line, there wasn't much chance to getting a shot off. Somebody did, 'cos we scored one, but I'm buggered if I can remember who it was. (No doubt someone will indignantly contact me, at which point I may or may not embelish this match report further)

Despite an admirable effort by all concerned, the differing styles of play between the Bees and the Vets players meant that the hockey never really flowed, and some respectable wobbling by Bebbington's youngsters (abley supported by a very competent defence), meant a few more goals against Bowdon, and the recognition that this was going to be a moral victory of the finest order.

Bebbington beat us fair and square, in what everyone could agree was a mediocre and unsettled game of hockey by the Bees. However, the weather was unexpectedly dry, and the temperature occassionally mild! A decent run about followed by more chips than you could shake a (hockey?) stick at back at the pub seemed like as good a way to spend a Saturday afternoon as any. Frank Fallon & Shaun Kilburn, the only young legs we had with us (sorry Stickie, Pritch, you haven't qualified for years...), both did a good job in the midfield, and easily made up in effort what they may have lacked in experience. The rest of us? Well, by the end of the second half we were entirely depending upon experience! Phew!