Galaxy Cup Final
So we know who is the final. It’s Soccereptune versus Socceruto and this time the home utos outnumber the away eptunes by a two to one margin. The media has used up all the clichés they could muster pre game and all that remains is for ninety minutes of action to decide the Galaxy champions for 2000. FGFA (Federation of Galaxy Football Associations) officials, visiting dignitaries, President elect Gore Bushuto and the 224,000 paying customerutos inside the Stadium of Lightuto are joined via satellite by too many millions of viewers galaxy wide. I, of course, possess the only satellite capable of receiving the game live here on Earth, and will relate the events as they occur to our fans.
At the toss up, captain Michael Oweneptune calmly hid his nerves of steel as he was faced down by Roy Keanuto. Call headuto or taileptune said the ref in that kind of “I’m in charge here” voice the good refs have. Keanuto shouted heads just in case Oweneptune took the unprecedented step of not calling tails. Both players knew that Socceruto like to attack the Stretford Enduto second half. It was tense. The coin hung in a slow motion movie moment before deciding to let Oweneptune strike the first blow by forcing Socceruto to play first half into their beloved Stretford Enduto. The knowledgeable crowd roared in response to the set up which told the tale of tails.
If Soccereptune could win the toss, could they then win the game too? The time had come to find out. Vinny Jones was the guest commentator from Earth and his mouth was salivating as within 4 seconds of the tip off, a tackle that only Vinny Jones could have been proud of “missed” it’s intended target and the referee had already got his wake up call. Three yellow cards were issued in the opening fifteen minutes and all before a strike on goal was recorded. If it was tense before, it was elevense now. Luckily, Vinny Jones was replaced in the box after twenty minutes by Gary Lineker and from that moment on a thriller of a match ensued. The free flowing passing game that both sides are capable of emerged and the entertainment factor soared accordingly. The elevense had settled at ninse and soccer was winning.
Twenty nine minutes saw Emile Heskeptune making a strong run down the right flank before delivering a thundering cross cum shot that deflected twice before falling perfectly for Michael to open the scoring with a coolly taken sidefoot that only he could make look easy. The upset was even more “on” now. Far from silencing the Stretford Enduto, the response to the goal was a deafening crescendo of demand urging endless waves of attack that would make editing highlights impossible. First Beckamuto, then Gigguto, Coluto and Yorkuto all came close to equalizing before the half time whistle brought temporary relief to the visiting fans, frustrations and questions for the home fans, and time to catch your breath for any neutrals.
Both ends of the ground sung nervously as the second half mirrored the final twenty of the first. Blood, sweat and tears mixed inextricably with grace and poise, while David Beckamuto twice heard strikes on goal sing “Knock on Wood” but not “Congratulations”. The game entered it’s final moments with the score still one to zero. Would there be a swansong. Of course, I’m writing the script, aren’t I? Ole Gunneruto had come on for Teddy Sheramuto with ten minutes remaining and proceeded to lower manager Alex Ferguso’s blood pressure considerably in the 88th minute while increasing that of all the eptunes watching and playing. He struck a volley from the edge of the area that would have been hard to believe were it not for the fact that cameras actually recorded the flight of the ball. It left his foot and travelled the approximate twenty yards of its journey in less than one second. Little wonder that the goalkeeper was not alone in being rooted to the spot as it flew past him and tested the efficiency of the net to protect the paying public from a projectile sure to cause severe headache. Realistically, it was well deserved and even Stephen Gerardeptune could only smile and admire silently as he picked himself up and started thinking about extra time.
The players were spent and overtime proved what a difficult game this is to play for ninety minutes. Two half chances were exchanged but both sides stayed mostly cautious, settling for the knowledge that penalties would decide exactly where the Joe Martin Trophy would reside for four years. But that’s another story.