Many knuckles were harmed in the making.

It is approximately 3 minutes before pushback, the issue with the coin has been addressed and sides have been chosen. Meanwhile, shirts are being adjusted, our new stand-up stand-in, self-sacrificing goalie is just becoming acquainted with her costume for the next 70 minutes and our newest recruits have just heard the words “So, we play with a W formation….”

What happens next, though separated by 601 years and 363 days, gives weight to the old adage that history repeats itself, or at least it would if history actually portrayed what should happen when battle is pitched between a team dressed in matching tops, with matching bottoms, accompanied with matching steely gazes (and the most comprehensive of all the warm-ups in the land), and a team that has a tendency to forget their skorts. Due to updated health and safety rules we have also opted out of the possible war crimes, dysentery, many of the more severe transgressions of the code of chivalry. Furthermore, due to the slightly optimistic application of sun cream, opted for the harsh winter sun over flood soaked fields as our extreme weather of choice.

They say never judge a book from its cover, however matching tops with matching bottoms proved to be a pretty good judge that Livingston were here with a purpose, for soon as the whistle went so did they with some no nonsense approach to tackling (knuckles) general tackle avoidance and passing which at times seemed to be have an extra sensory aspect. This all led to an early encampment in the 25, but after some tangling feet and slips (knuckles) the early imminent threat could be downgraded a,s after fulfilling our obligation as host, we decided to take the fight (and ball) to them ,sometimes in the case of the ball, in a bit too much of literal way, causing problems with our own passing and dribbling and passing round the back. However, Livingston had clearly read ahead for having dressed for the part of France, they seemed to be taking a leaf from King Hal’s pals giving no quarters in attack or defence (knuckles), and after a particularly effective foray down the right wing, catapulted the ball in to the goal.

Thankfully there is always time for a therapeutic Jelly Baby (or 10) at half-time. Less consoling, looking up mid munch and seeing an already set team ready to begin again.

And begin anew we did full of vim and vigour to right the wrongs and become ascendant. However it was clear that they had taken more than a leaf, or even a branch – more like an entire thicket and were once more, twice and thrice into the breach and into the goal. Which is not to say we went quietly into the night, oh no. There was full body commitment to passes (knuckles, knuckles and knee even), threatening their D (and their goal too) however the vice had been set, and the handle turned, the final twist transpiring just before time took its pity on us. If anyone has spent any time with the L3s they would know our keen interest in the fine art of short cornering, and we had the bittersweet pleasure of being the unwitting pawns in a singularly fine example – which closest companion piece can be found in the final battle of the Karate Kid - snake charming : It all began as usual they hit, we ran, but then the ball moved right we watched and followed, they ball moved left we watched and followed, the ball moved we watched and followed, and then the ball moved into the goal. Five nil.

We started out as England, but somehow ended up as France. Bring on Joan of Arc.