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Playing against eight men is never easy. The blood-stained pages of military history provide a seemingly endless list of salutary lessons handed out to complacent generals who blithely assumed that massive numerical supremacy and a huge arsenal of superior technical weaponry meant that they only had to turn up on the battlefield and victory would be theirs.

Take Mexican President Antonio López de Santa Anna, for example, who in 1836 pitched up outside a little-known ramshackle fort in down-town Texas accompanied by the full might of his nation's army – upwards of 5,000 tightly-drilled fighting machines, armed to the teeth with the latest leading-edge musketry and more cannons than they knew what to do with. Nervously peeking out at them from the dilapidated ramparts were a few hundred plucky Texan rebels, whose only protection was a selection of tatty racoon-tailed furry hats. The only question seemed to be where to go for a few celebratory tequilas after the match.

But Santa Anna had reckoned without the inspirational qualities of a great gaffer, in this case a frontier hunter called Davy Crockett who boasted the biggest racoon tail ever recorded in armed combat. The furry-headed general marshalled his handful of Davids into keeping a clean sheet for a remarkable 13 days against a relentless bombardment. Mass desertion in the Mexican ranks threatened a famous victory for the lone stars, until Big Tony decided to wheel in some even bigger guns that blew the Alamo to kingdom come, after which he ruthlessly executed the handful of survivors.

But there are even worse fates recorded for favourites so odds-on that the bookies stopped taking bets long before the battalion sheets were released to the press. King Cetshwayo Kampande could hardly have avoided presuming that he had the three points all but safely in the bag as he wound his way along the Tugela River in Kwazulu Natal towards a god-forsaken mission station located at a river crossing known as Rourke's Drift. After all, he had at his disposal nearly 4,500 brutal warriors unmatched in agility with their weapon of choice - the 'stabbing spear'.

The opposition that day was a shambolic outfit from the British Army playing in bright red tops. Having erroneously sent most of their number to the wrong ground up the road, they turned up at the appointed venue with only 139 players. With just a few Martini-Henry breech loading rifles in their kitbag, and a few sacks of sweet corn to shore up a notoriously leaky defence, the Pools Panel would have unanimously issued a home win verdict had they been called into action on that bitter Saturday afternoon in 1879.

But complacency is the most dangerous of opponents, and Big Cetsh had also failed to reckon on the motivational effect of a heroic leader. The British were lucky to have none other than Lieutenant Michael Caine in their ranks, who was shrewdly deployed in a sweeping role just in front of a war-weary back four. Despite ninety minutes of relentless attack, the Zulu warriors returned to the dressing room having failed the break the deadlock, and the British were left with one of the most famous 0-0 draws in their history.

It is unclear if the Logica was worried by these historical precedents as he planned his battlefield stratagems ahead of Sunday's clash with the Portman Arms. Scouts soon brought news that the opposition currently numbered just eight, although reinforcements were reported to be on the way. But the wily nouse of is too shrewd to be lulled into gung-ho complacency. Even though the Arms initially lacked any fire-power whatsoever, arranging themselves in a purely defensive 4-3-0 formation, our wise leader maintained faith in his tried-and-trusted 4-4-2 deployment that had brought him so much success in the past, confident that his massive weapons of destruction (namely the Dad's Army of and ) would see his boys back home before Christmas.

As is traditional with brave Generals, opted for a safe position some distance behind his troops from where he could observe the ensuing battle, issue his orders, and keep his hands warm in a nice pair of thick gloves. This part of the strategy went to plan at least, with not called into action in the first 45 minutes of battle. His offensive plan involved a pincer movement from the flanks involving and , and some rat-a-tat passing that would exploit the numerical advantage. However, when was felled in the opening exchanges and had to be stretchered from the field, Groom quickly resorted to the heavy artillery in the distinctive shape of .

History it seemed was preparing another humiliating lesson, as the Logica strikers both had good chances well-saved by the Portman keeper early doors, and frustration began to creep into the ranks of the XI. A worse calamity so nearly followed when Portman's first sortie into enemy territory saw the launch of a long-range howitzer that crashed against the Logica bar, with bravely eschewing any attempt to dive for cover.

It was the arrival of the Portman reinforcements that turned the tide of battle, although in an ironic twist of fate, the contest turned decisively in Logica's favour. As the three Portmen donned their battle-garb on the sidelines, Logica raised themselves for a frenzied offensive that produced three direct hits. For all the elaborate flank stratagems, it was a direct charge through the middle that did the damage. galloped past a number of helpless defenders before laying the ball off to , acting as a very advanced rearguard. Requiring just one touch to control the ball, the defender swivelled to hook a precise shot across the keeper and into the top left corner [1-0]. [Video Highlight]

At once the weight of expectancy lifted and Logica went in for the kill. applied some controlled threat to a dithering Portman right-back and nicked the ball into 's path. The veteran warrior neatly side-stepped the last defender before clinically side-footing low inside the near post [2-0]. [Video Footage to follow hopefully...!]

Another charge through the middle by brought a third goal shortly afterwards, as he again left a trail of beaten opponents lying in his wake. As he wove into the box, he selflessly laid the ball off to the hovering , who wasted no time in crashing home a first-time shot from 15 yards past the despairing dive of the Arms number one [3-0]. [Video Highlight]

The Portman reinforcements finally took up their stations, but Logica were in no mood to release their stranglehold on the match. , excellent throughout, ruthlessly pounced when the Arms left-back mis-controlled a pass and raced clear into the box before calmly clipping the ball over the on-rushing keeper with the outside of his boot [4-0]. [Video Highlight]

The match was now Logica's to lose, but there were a few warnings as the interval approached. was mercilessly punished under the six-second rule, but the Logica troops bravely defended the resultant free-kick, charging down successive shots and somehow scrambling the ball clear. The day's list of casualties grew longer when substitute gallantly tried to recover a ball lost in no-man's land. A superb sliding tackle regained possession, but only at the cost of badly torn knee ligaments and cartilages, and as some amateur medical orderlies proffered water and sympathy on the touchline, was called into the fray.

Logica half-time team-talks are a veritable crystal ball of propheticism. The game was not won yet, and Groom's men would need to work hard to protect their lead. If they allowed Portman to grab a couple of quick goals, for example, all would be back in the melting pot.

Within five minutes of the restart, Portman Arms had duly pulled back two goals. The first came in their first attack, a speculative, if well-struck, 20-yard shot finding the net after the heretofore unused hand of keeper couldn't get enough on it to deflect it around the post [4-1]. And the momentum appeared to be with the now full complement of Portman players when Logica failed to stop a low cross getting into the box, allowing an unmarked forward to tap it lamely past a wrong-footed from close range [4-2]. [Video Highlight]

The fore-gone conclusion was in danger of becoming a four-gone disaster, and the next goal would be crucial. It was at this stage that General pulled off a tactical masterstroke, swapping the gloves with , and shortly afterwards selflessly retiring himself to the safety of the touchline to be replaced by the young reserve . With their tails up, Portman pressed for a third goal and a neat move released their striker who bore down on goal. But without a thought for his own safety rushed from his trench and dived into the line of fire, brilliantly blocking what could have been the match-turning goal. [Video Highlight]

Logica finally responded and upped their game with some old-fashioned hard work, harrying and closing down their opponents with much more diligence, with the substitutes and to the fore in this regard. Having snuffed out the danger at one end, they set about killing off the game at the other. The fluent football returned and the chances with it. Two snapshots were saved, and was sent clear only to see his flicked shot hit a keeper who knew nothing about it. Neat moves down either flank saw and head narrowly wide from pinpoint crosses from and respectively. The latter then released the former in the inside left channel, but 's low shot was again saved by the Portman keeper who was just about keeping his side in the match at this stage.

But finally this siege of the Portman goal yielded a break-through. refused to give up on a ball heading towards touch, and hoiked it forwards. was underneath it and cushioned a first-time volley back towards the supporting (although military strategists are still baffled as to why the defender was once again to be found so deep in enemy territory). controlled the pass and, instinctively aware of 's dart through the middle, lobbed the ball perfectly into the forward's path. Keeping a cool head, the Sheffielder picked his spot and rolled the ball wide of the exposed Portman goalie [5-2]. [Video Highlight]

The battle was surely won now, and Portman had the look of a beaten force. Logica created further chances, most notably when 's glanced header from a corner was somehow blocked on the line. A sixth goal did arrive in slightly fortuitous circumstances, as won possession and burst towards the box, sliding a pass towards who had made a great run to his left. A Portman defender desperately stretched out a foot to intercept, but only ended up poking it past his own helpless keeper [6-2]. [Video Highlight]

A shrill peep of the whistle signalled the end of hostilities shortly afterwards, and our heroic had skilfully avoided the perilous pitfall of playing against just eight men, one that had defeated so many great generals before him.