The prospect of taking on top-of-the-league Havering loomed over us like a storm cloud. Would we be left in ruins, or could we pull out some magic from our well-worn lockers for this formidable foe? Only time would tell.

After quickly huddling up, our fearless leaders, the Hurdles, delivered an inspiring motivational speech. “Think smart, play clever hockey… and for the love of all things holy, stay on your feet!” It sounded simple enough.

The game kicked off with a surprising sense of belief. The hockey was top-notch. Max and Suzie, fresh from a week off, were in fine form. Max lived up to her name, absolutely maxing out down the wing, while Suzie linked up beautifully with Martha. The two of them came close, but the goals remained as elusive as a good hair day in British weather. Meanwhile, Ros was an absolute Boss at the back, directing traffic like a glove-wearing officer on a mission. Nothing was getting past her today, no sir.

At halftime, we found ourselves at 0-0, and suddenly, hope blossomed. Could we really come away with something from this game? Emily took this newfound belief to heart, forming a very special relationship with one of their players—and the umpire—over some “questionable” stickwork. It all looked clean to me, but hey, I’m not the one with the whistle.

The game’s only goal came in rather dramatic fashion: a ball to the face, leading to a short corner for them. Fortunately, my cosmetic surgeon had prepped me well—my face, filled with enough filler to rival a Hollywood starlet, was well cushioned. However, my bottom teeth required a quick once-over from Coach Sam. 1-0.

With every fall, stumble, and heroic dive, we threw everything we had at them. Yet despite our efforts, we couldn’t claw it back. We had to accept a narrow loss, but we walked off that pitch with plenty of pride (and aches).

As we hobbled to our cars, swapping the contact info for a local sports therapist, the promise of a generous lasagna at the clubhouse kept us moving. Let me tell you, the teas scored a solid 10/10. Worth the journey just for that Italian classic.

The MoM votes came in, and Ros and Martha took the honours and Emily was awarded the hot mess award for narrowly avoiding a card from the umpire. But as we limped back to the cars, anyone over 30 felt like they’d just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

Peace, love, and deep muscle soaks,
Shireen