A season that has regularly lurched from the extreme of extended inactivity to that of double-header freneticism and back again, had for the most part boasted on-field disappointment as its only common factor. But that all changed yesterday as Logica produced by far their best performance of the season when it mattered most as they trounced Old Sergeant 5-2 in what may turn out to be their last ever home game at the Stade d'Ilea.

The pressure was on for 's men after an increasingly poor run of results had seen them slip into the relegation zone. At least their destiny was in their own hands, with expert analysts determining that victory in their final game of the season would see Logica avoid automatic relegation regardless of results elsewhere.

Despite then this being the club's most important match for years, was once again struggling to muster eleven troops for battle. The official team sheet published late on Friday boasted just ten names, and one of those, , was soon crossed off due to a late infection. Luckily the cavalry was on hand in the shape of and , and Logica could at least play the game with a full complement of players, even if the absence of substitutes was a tad worrying under a blazing sun.

After square pegs had been banged into round holes ( was asked to play in an unaccustomed sweeper's role, possibly due to his new found mopping up skills; the injured heroically taking the gloves), a downbeat pre-match team talk asked only that everyone go out and enjoy themselves. But before Groom could head off to the Vic, interjected with a stirring and inspirational speech that Henry V would have been proud of. As Logica headed into the breach once more, wanted tigers straining at the leash, summoning blood, and getting stuck in like we did two weeks ago.

Logica's players did exactly as had demanded. and , nominally in the middle of the park, were everywhere - closing down, harrying, and using the ball to good effect. and on the wings yielded not an inch to their opposite numbers, whilst posing a threat of their own. And another makeshift back four bedded in quickly, sniffing out the slightest whiff of danger before needed to be called into meaningful action.

Old Sergeant wanted to play pretty, passing football but Logica would not let them. Time and again their creative players were locked in circles as they desperately sought a closely marked colleague to pass to. The ball was regularly won and otherwise forced backwards. The destiny of this match was decided in these opening exchanges as the well-drilled Logica troops forcefully wrestled the psychological advantage from the retreating Old Sergeant, who quickly and increasingly voiced their frustrations.

Logica earned themselves the time and space to play in, and did so to far more effect. Their passing was crisp, accurate, and far more direct, posing a threat with each well constructed raid. The home side so nearly had the lead when a corner was only half cleared and fired a volley from the edge of the box just a fraction the wrong side of the post.

But the first goal was not too much longer in coming. A long clearance from enticed a sideways header from a defender, and calmly controlled the ball on his thigh. was already off and running and wasted no time in spearing a volleyed pass wide of the last defender and into his strike partner's path. There was still plenty to do, but Logica's self-styled big number nine took just one touch forwards before firing lethally wide of the keeper and just inside the right-hand post [1-0].

Logica's deadly strike duo combined for a second goal some ten minutes later. This time it was peeling off the shoulder of his marker in perfect harmony with a visionary long pass from right-back . As the number one Sergeant advanced hesitantly, the experienced forward needed little tempting into his finish of choice: a delicately curled lob looped over a stranded keeper. But his calibrated angle of elevation was fractionally off the mark, and the keeper just managed to get a finger-tip to the ball. A covering defender seemed favourite to clear the loose ball, but from nowhere the predatory slid in to practise what he had earlier preached, bundling both ball and defender over the line with a seismic challenge [2-0]. would be purring in his grave.

Logica looked like scoring more. again lobbed weakly after latching on to a long ball, and then over-hit a cross to the back stick as burst in unmarked. The home side's pressure realised a succession of corners and long throws as Logica revelled in their unaccustomed dominance.

Old Sergeant rarely made it into the danger zones, but when they did, they were met with some uncompromising challenges. saved a seemingly certain goal with a sliding tackle eight yards out, and executed a esque last ditch challenge with impeccable timing as a forward looked to gallop clear. went about his goal-minding in understated fashion, producing a couple of effective blocks when it mattered, and reserving his more colourful interventions for the verbal kind, keeping his defenders on their collective toes with some style invective.

Logica's continued pressure bore more reward in the shape of a third goal. More determined work from won a throw on the left near the corner flag, and the single-shirted winger's well directed fling found flicking on. The ball bounced away from a defender and the ever alert latched on to the loose ball, firing it home unstoppably from the edge of the box [3-0]. This was just reward for 's unselfish and skilful first half work, and a super strike with which to open his Logica goal-scoring account.

Logica were rampant now, and the unstoppable soon engineered another goal. Ruthlessly robbing a dallying defender, he unselfishly returned the compliment to play in his unmarked strike partner. wisely eschewed the lob this time, drawing the keeper before clinically slipping the ball past him and into the empty net [4-0].

There was still time for more before the break, but the move of the game went unrewarded. Some sublime first time passing between , and saw the latter dissect the Sergeant rearguard with a pass aimed for the run of . The midfielder seemed to have added a fifth as his low first-time shot beat the despairing keeper's dive, but the ball rolled agonisingly just wide.

Logica's success down the years has rarely been built on hard work, and this season especially the erratic fixture schedule has left them collectively some way short of prime match fitness. With the sun beating down ever harder, there was certainly no complacency in the Logica camp during the half time interval. Old Sergeant made a substitution, throwing on a pacey right-winger and spent much of the next 45 minutes feeding him the ball.

The energy levels were down, but Logica held their own in the opening stages of the second half whilst still posing an occasional threat. was again at the hub of Logica's most dangerous moves, and manoeuvred himself some space on the hour mark to unleash a fizzing drive that the keeper could only parry. was again thinking ahead of the rest, pouncing on the loose ball first and touching it past the keeper but again just the wrong side of the post.

As the half wore on, Logica's defensive line was getting deeper and deeper as Old Sergeant began to dominate. Twice 's handling had to be perfect as he caught close range headers in a crowded penalty box, and he was also called on to punch another corner clear. Logica's ninth keeper of the season then had to be on his toes to tip a long range shot over the bar. But it was perhaps no surprise when Old Sergeant did pull a goal back, a header from a corner being half blocked before the loose ball was thrashed home from close range [4-1].

Logica were visibly tiring now, and for a period could do little more than hump defensive clearances back into the visitors' half. Worse followed when the impressive injured an ankle, and required extended treatment. The pacey winger hobbled back into the forward line, with the unlikely candidate being moved into the left midfield slot. It was perhaps no coincidence that Old Sergeant's second goal was soon created by their right-winger, his well flighted cross glanced home just inside the far post [4-2].

With a quarter of an hour still remaining, there were plenty of jitters amongst a packed home crowd at the Stade, many of whom had seen bigger leads than this thrown away. But they needn't have worried this time. The home side raised themselves for one last effort to ensure the season finished victorious. had run off the worst of his injury and took the pressure off his team with some speedy breaks that took the game back to Sergeant. fired himself up again and some persistence in the box won the ball: he fired in a low goalbound shot but the keeper just managed to finger-tip wide of the far post to deny the Logica man a hat-trick.

But with five minutes left, Logica finally wrapped up the victory they so richly deserved. caused the danger, dribbling past one man, pushing it past another, and forcing a desperate challenge to slide the ball behind for a corner. took so long trotting over to take it that was able to fetch the ball and, with a speed of thought that matched his feet, play it short to the old striker. Old Sergeant were caught napping but not , who was very much alive to what was happening. looked up and chipped a cross into the path of his unchecked run, and the tall midfielder's bullet header nearly burst the top corner of the net [5-2].

It was a fine way to finish a largely disappointing campaign – not only with a win, but with a dominant and hard-fought all-round team display that produced good football and plenty of goals to boot. As news filtered through that both Lansdown and Kew Green had lost their final games, knew that he would maintain his proud record of never having been relegated in seven seasons at the helm. This well-deserved victory had guaranteed ninth place in the final table, but the increasing difficulty of raising a team this season would make Logica's future as a club a little less certain.