Double Header: see also Logica 3-3 Gardeners Arms

Whilst Logica can never be accused of complacency (rarely having got into a position from where they can be complacent), they may do well to revert to the tried and tested formula of taking each pair of games as it comes. Whispered talk of promotion in the corridors of power at the Stade d'Ilea last week proved to be the kiss of death, as the side managed to collect just one point out of the six on offer in Sunday's double header against lowly Gardeners Arms.

Last season, a certain England captain with more hairstyles than Noobie could ever dream of, stated that he could not see why in Alex Ferguson's last season in charge, Manchester United should not go through the season unbeaten and mop up the quadruple. Half a dozen defeats before the Christmas lights were even up sowed the seeds of United's first trophy-less season for some time.

Undaunted, Monsieur Wenger, Professor of Modesty at a certain North London academy refused to learn from this experience. Wowed by the quality of football he was seeing from his charges at the start of this season, he similarly predicted that his troupe of over-sized craniums could go through a season unbeaten and hoover up all silverware before them in the process. Why not, he claimed? It was mere superstition that stopped the managers of great sides publicising such beliefs. The Arse duly lost their next four games.

Few in this club doubt the inevitable wrathful revenge of a Football God goaded by gauntlets tossed casually in his path. Sidaway's missionary work has seen to that. But perhaps we felt that our ambitions were a little more humble, so lowly in fact that the Gods would not deem predictions of a top-three finish and resultant promotion worth getting out of bed for on a Sunday morning. Oh dear.

On the face of it, things could not have been more in Logica's favour. A sixteen man squad bulging with talent was out warming up a good half an hour before kick off. Our opponents languishing in tenth place shambled onto the pitch with seconds to spare and just ten men. The points were as good as in the bag, surely?!?

The Gods had other ideas. Firstly a whole fleet of Bobble Gods were dispatched to the Riverside Lands Stadium and set about their work with gusto. Then a wicked wind blew up and howled down the pitch turning the ball into a balloon. Muppet Supremo Bruninho did not know what had hit him: dazed and confused he assigned Lag duo Abbott and Lambert to the bench. A risky stratagem and one that the gutter press would be licking their lips at in the event of a back-fire.

The Gardeners seemed hell bent on giving it 110% each in order to make up for their collective numerical deficiency. Meanwhile Logica started in a style that suggested that they firmly believed that the bag containing their points was safely under lock and key. With no passing options, Logica posed little or no attacking threat, and lulled into a state of near lethargy, there was little appetite for winning the ball back in any department.

The result was that it was the ten men who created all the chances. Booth had saved both the ball and Logica's blushes on a number of occasions before a long pass into no man's land put him in trouble. Racing from his goal-line he reached the ball first, but his clearance rebounded straight off the oncoming striker and straight into the empty net [0-1]. Logica offered little in response, and were lucky to have conceded just one by the interval.

After a frank exchange of views between Bruninho and those he was leading down the Gardeners path, Abbott and Lambert were hastily thrown into the fray. But the initiative was lost, and the Arms had their tails up. They also by now had an eleventh man. With the wind at Logica's backs, most of the second half was spent in the Gardener's half, but few clear-cut chances were created and the scoreline rarely looked like changing.

Abbott provided a classically elaborate and ineffectual cameo. He had provided the occasional accurate pass when a long looping cross sailed over the keeper's head and appeared to be going out of play. Obviously, an elaborate 180 degree turn with a noncy back-heeled half-volley flick from the bye-line back over the keepers head was what was called for. Abbott's fragile right hamstring was not quite up to the job, and a loud twang could be heard as the ambitious flick ballooned over the bar. It was not long before Abbott's left hamstring followed suit, and despite limping gamely on, he finally admitted defeat with minutes to go and was replaced by Bruninho.

This seemed to sum up the morning's fiasco thus far, and at the final whistle, it was still the Gardeners who looked the more likely to score. Sadly Logica could only claim a cast-iron penalty claim (when Buck was felled in the first half) as their only genuine chance of the whole game. And the referee somewhat incredibly turned that down. It was scant consolation and certainly no excuse, that the only performance worse than Logica's was the referee's. But more of him in the second match of this double header.