Report by the Supreme Groomo

Spirits were high as the majority of the squad assembled outside the pre-arranged meeting point at Raynes Park Station. The sun was shining, no one had a hangover, not even Supremo Groom: this must be what winning your first two matches does to players. Incredibly everyone was present by 09:30 and the only thing holding up the onward journey to the impressive Stade d'Ilea was the Supreme one himself, who was finishing off his pre-match fag [A Marlboro, that is, not Brown - Ed].

The team changed into the now adopted first team strip of yellow and green in the heated changing rooms and sanitary toilets that 'the Stade' boasts. The pitch looked so magnificent - not a bobble in sight, and gleaming in the sunlight as the last of the morning dew was burned off - that everyone was eagerly warming up on the pitch by 10:10.

There was a slight concern in the camp as the first XI was announced: although the consistently excellent Rich Booth was in goal, there followed the strangely unfamiliar back line. With Brown pursuing off the field business activities, Hatton Major visiting parents, Trovato off on his six-month loan deal, and the Captain up in Edinburgh, the expectant crowd could have been forgiven for thinking that defence was being dispensed with for this game, such was the confidence of the attacking elements. However this wasn't to be the case and the back four lined up from left to right as Lurch, Groom, Hatton Minor and Hoyzone.

With the defence taken care of, the midfield much to the home crowd's relief was much familiar: Taylor, Gautam, Buck, plus the irrepressible crowd-pleasing Reevaldo shaping up on the right wing. The forward line was also familiar with Abbott providing the guile and Lambert providing the speed. The bench wasn't filled with slackers either, with a trio of Clarke, Noobie and McWilliam who would walk into just about any other team in the league.

The match kicked off and Logica started stroking the ball around in comfortable fashion as is only to be expected from a team that has won their first two matches. To be honest, the match was played at quite a slow pace which is quite frankly unusual, particularly as the Logica team talk stressed the importance of getting at the 'oppo' early doors.

The first chance of game fell the pacey SW18 striker who chased a long ball over the top of Groom and Hatton Minor and only an on-rushing Booth prevented the visitors taking an undeserved early lead. It wasn't long however before the pace of the Logica forward line started to cause the SW18 back line a great deal of problems. Reevaldo was sparkling out on the right, beating his man every time he got the ball, and Taylor equally impressive on the left.

It wasn't long before Logica's pressure paid off, as Gautam received the ball in the middle of the park. The midfield maestro held onto it for several minutes, before launching a thirty yard pass right onto the thigh of Reevaldo who had expertly beat the SW18 half-way line offside trap. The would-be hole merchant burst into the box before pulling the trigger and firing the ball into the far corner of the net beyond the stranded goalkeeper [1-0].

The game continued to be dominated by Logica with only the occasional attack from their opponents that caused the back line any problems. With Gautam continuing to pick his passes, and Buck biting the ankles of anything that came near him, SW18 weren't getting much of a look in. When they did get forward, the unfamiliar back four held firm. Steve Lambert was also getting closer with several shots being saved, but when he did beat the keeper with a drive, the ball agonisingly flew wide of the post.

By now Logica were full of confidence and none more so than Abbott who expertly took a long Reevaldo punt forward perfectly in his stride. Sadly the old man got a little over-excited at thsi point. The only acceptable finish-of-choice following such a sublime first touch was, of course, the characteristic lob over the keeper from fifty yards [A Seaman, as its known in the trade - Ed], but tragically the lofted shot was over-hit, much to his dismay. If that had gone in, it would surely have been an early contender for Goal of the Season.

SW18 however occasionally reminded Logica that they were in fact still in this game and came very close to grabbing an equaliser towards half time when a long throw was misjudged by the Logica rearguard and their striker powered a header goalward, which was parried by Booth. There ensued thirty seconds of pinball wizard in the Logica box, before Groom finally hoofed the ball out of play off the leg of an onrushing striker.

This seemed to jerk Logica into action and they added a second just on the stroke of half time. A mesmeric, twisting run from Reevaldo found the bye-line, and a chipped cross to the back stick found fellow Lag Abbott on the same wave-length, with the number four slotting home from the acutest of angles [2-0].

Reevaldo continued to cause problems after the break, and SW18 weren't taking kindly to such torture, resorting to desperate attempts to put the Hackney hack off his game with such gamesmanship as: "Don't worry, he won't score because his hair will get in his eyes".

Groom had finally just about calibrated his forehead such that most of his headers were actually going forward, and the back line even managed to catch an opponent or two offside.

Rather annoyingly for this scribe, Logica now settled into a rather relaxed manner of play, and the game got lost in midfield with passes going astray from both teams. This was, however, until Reevaldo received the ball out on the right. After beating what seemed to be the entire SW18 team twice over, he finally decided to square the ball invitingly for two onrushing Logica midfielders who had timed their runs perfectly. Fortunately for Taylor, he just got to the ball ahead of Buck, and clinically drilled the ball delightfully under the goalkeeper [3-0].

Logica were cruising, and a third straight win was looking likely. But there were shades of the Logica of old when a defensive mix-up led to SW18 clawing a goal back almost immediately. A hopeful punt forward was misjudged by Groom and Lurch and the away team's striker stole in to blast the ball past Booth and onto the post. Unfortunately it bounced back to a striker rather than a defender, who tapped into the empty net [3-1].

But the new Logica was stung into a rapid and sustained retort that hinted at a new found ruthlessness, as wave after wave of attacks besieged the SW18 rearguard. A Reevaldo corner was played short to Abbott who had cynically loitered unnoticed by pretending to do up his bootlaces on the touchline [There's no substitute for experience - Ed]. The loiterer exchanged passes with Reevaldo before hitting a shot which was blocked. This only offered the opportunity for a classic exhibition of 'fannying', as he dummied two men into submission before attempting to curl the ball into the goal-post stanchion a la Trevor Brooking in Budapest back in 81. Abbott was gutted that the ball didn't quite stick, but at least Logica had restored their three-goal advantage [4-1]

By now McWilliam and Noobie had entered the fray, and the former continued in the same vein as Taylor, leading the right back a merry dance. Noobie, who does not have many friends in SW18, was more interested in starting a fight with the entire opposition reaguard.

Gautam was unfortunate after he thought he'd made it five, only to see a net-rippling low drive disallowed after extensive consultation with the opposition manager convinced the referee that a foul throw had taken place. It wasn't a goal befitting of Gautam anyway, with the midfielder striking home from merely eight yards compared to his usual thirty plus.

Abbott left the field to be replaced by Clarke, who slotted in on the right hand side whilst Reevaldo went up front. The latter should have added his second goal, when, after once again dribbling around half the opposing team, he saw his placed shot blocked by an exposed keeper. Noobie also went close with a half-volley after Reevaldo picked him out totally unmarked on the edge of the area with a quick free-kick.

So another satisfying Sunday morning for Logica FC, making three wins out of three. This confirmed the best start to a domestic league season for Logica since records began (even the famous double-winning side of 89, who did not lose a game until April, drew one of their first three games), and found them sitting pretty in second place in the Division Two table. Roll on next Sunday, when Logica will once more take to the field of battle at Stade d'Ilea against Everyman United.