Ross High and the Meaning of Life

When you play Ross High, you know what you’re going to get: high-tempo pressing, strong tackling and a middle-aged woman going batshit in the middle of the park. So it’s important to stay zen. Take deep breaths. In exceptional circumstances, book a relaxing massage from our forward’s mother the next day.

Broken glass. No running water. An unopened (UNOPENED!) Oreo Dairy Milk bar. The end of days? No, Ross High’s pitch. Those girls are tough, and it was a tense start for the transcendental 4s.

Straightaway the opposition harried us. They started stronger and made interception after interception, took shot after shot. The onslaught was on the pitch and in our ears. “WHY WOULDN’T YOU PASS THAT?” Rhetorical. Ignore. “WHAT’S THAT?!” Existential. Ponder. Our always-robust defence coped well. Special mention to Judith for her excellent tackles and decidedly un-zen-like remarks and to our chilled wünderkid, Saskia, in goal, who performed miracles keeping the score in single figures. Nevertheless, we reached halftime 2-0 down. Deep breaths. Focus…

We composed ourselves and channelled the maroon teachings of Guru Ben. It helped. In the second half our passes were sharper; we found space more easily and pressed Ross High on the ball better. Disciple Liv made some fabulous runs - having an effort cleared off the line; our defence made some harmonious crossfield passes and The Terrier made some serene interceptions. Best of all, we silenced Ross High.

Always the calmest on the pitch, Saskia made yet more heavenly saves, but a goal sneaked in at the death and the match finished 3-0… Peace and love. Peace and love.

Trying to stay zen, I have distilled the match into a meditative haiku. Read, repeat and restore your chakras for next week when we go again.

Sask was ace
Donna was shouty
Watsons lost

Ommmmmmmmm.

MoM: Saskia
DoD: We don’t subscribe to such negativity.