Oh how they laughed. In fact the Lag Cabal holding its weekly get-together in the corner in the Snug Bar of The Bailey was in fits. "Unlucky?!? Seven-nil? Unlucky! That's seven bloody nil!" they expostulated between side-splitting guffaws so uncontrollable that a number of bottles of Pale Ale went flying.

Abbott and Reevaldo could do little else but sit quietly and bide their time. When the derisory mirth had abated a little, they attempted to justify, somewhat timidly it has to be said, the previous Sunday's unfortunate Cup exit at the hands of FC Machio de Londres. "We were unlucky," insisted Abbott. "It was just a glut of unfortunate goals late on in the second half. For an hour it could have gone either way." And with that the old blokes were off again like a whole platoon of laughing policemen. "Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, ho, etc".

After what seemed an eternity, when the noise-level had reduced to a mere chortle, the mocking Lags returned to a familiar 'in-my-day' tack. "Where's Logica's winning mentality gone?" demanded one. "You turn up, get beat 7-0, and go home reasonably happy because you think you were 'a bit unlucky'" Another man of experience picked up on the theme. "It's all about trophies. Winning trophies. And you won't win anything in this game whilst considering yourself unlucky to lose 7-0. I despair of today's generation of Logica player. Now in my day, luck didn't come into it. And we won trophies by the bundle." The first Lag could only agree. "Yeah, look at the state that the club is in now. You actually have to be registered to get a game on a Sunday morning! It's a scandal! Now in my day....." And there ensued much long-winded, rose-tinted, nostalgic blathering regarding the good old days.

With Abbott and Reevaldo sticking to their guns, there was serious danger of a fissure in the Lags camp, between those who played, and those who merely reminisced, a good game. Such was the serious nature of the division, that there was the prospect of some negative impact on the Lags' chances of lifting the World Cup this summer. Fortunately, however, a resolution to this dispute has arrived from an unlikely source.

Logica were unlucky to lose 7-0 to FC Machio in the Cup - it's official! And you can't get much more official and than an official! In an unusual turn of events, the referee for the game in question actually felt obliged to write to no less an authority than the Football Association in order to document just how unlucky Logica were. This completely unsolicited act is a very good indication of the huge great massive Lag-sized quantity of misfortune that is at the centre of this bitter internecine dispute.

Appalled at the cruel and ruthless manner in which the Football Gods had slunk off after robbing Logica of their chance of a glorious double, referee Ray Buckingham felt immediately obliged to put pen to paper and fire off a letter to the highest powers in the land. Addressing his heartfelt account of gross injustice to the London FA Referees Chief (known only as "Steve"), Mr. Buckingham raged passionately that "despite the scoreline of 0-7, the match was more closely fought than the result suggests."

Such strong and impassioned language constitutes a full and frank vindication of the view from the Abbott-Reevaldo camp, as well as an unambiguous two fingers in the direction of the misty-eyed old codgers. Such is the importance of this piece of documentary evidence, that we have reproduced it below for posterity to pass judgement on.

But referee Buckingham was not content to leave it at that. Oh no. He also felt duty-bound to praise Logica's exemplary attitude in nearly beating higher league opposition in this David-and-Goliath Cup struggle. It was a "privilege" to referee both teams apparently, despite the "difficult playing conditions". Even as fate was conspiring against them, Logica displayed "exemplary sportsmanship" throughout, and were "a pleasure to referee". We should be "congratulated on [our] performance". So much so in fact, that Mr. Buckingham "would look forward to refereeing [us] again".

This accolade is a superb tribute to everything that the modern Logica is about. We can take on the best in the league, be "the only team to give [them] a decent game all season" (according to the opposition themselves), and still maintain a sense of fair-play and sportsmanship whilst we're doing it. Winning is important, but taking part in the right spirit even more so. Whilst the old blokes' half-remembered anecdotes of trophy-hunting is something to be aspired to, the regular tales of twenty-two man brawls and dressing-room rucks instigated by the likes of Venis and Dick that frequently accompanies them, is really not the kind of role model we should be setting before the modern Logica footballer.

So thank you Mr. Buckingham. We are quite sure that a certain legendary superstar of yesteryear cannot boast any such complimentary letters from referees in his sepia tinged scrapbook.