MOATSIDERS SUNK BY PINNOCK'S POACHING

04.04.10

In the lands of the North, where the Black Rocks stand guard against the cold sea, in the dark night that is very long the Men of the Northlands sit by their great log fires and they tell a tale... They tell a tale of Gavin Rose and his army of Pink and Blue warriors led by the veteran warhorse, Justin Bowen, and young colt, Sol Pinnock. They tell a tale of how the Hamlet of Dulwich was threatened by that rarest of species, an angry dragon, one that bore the name of Relegation. They tell a tale of how, when the times were at their darkest and spirits at their lowest, the men of the hamlet answered the trumpet call and claimed the victory that would ensure their place in Valhalla, or the Isthmian League at least.

Champion Hill has been worried by a spectre. Defeat after defeat had dragged the Hamlet ever closer to the maelstrom of relegation to the oblivion of the county leagues but cometh the hour cometh the men. Back came Nicolas Plumain to add his steel and determination to the back four. Billy Chattaway returned to the starting XI whilst Yinka Salami sat out the afternoon in the wake of dismissal at Mayfields. Missing too were Kevin James, out of favour, and Paul Scott, on duty on the day and night job. In the absence of Scott, the baton was passed to Justin Bowen, his body bearing the bruises of the years, now coming late in his career to a striker's role. Methinks he missed his vocation after a masterclass in the art of the old-fashioned centre forward that many feel has become a lost breed.

Like Hamlet Merstham have drifted away from the play-off spots much due to a thin run of results away from their Moatside home, just two on the road since the old year turned. Last of those was a creditable result away to impecunious Folkestone Invicta where the squandering of chances cost them dear in a game where the Surrey side more than matched their lofty opponents. Still manager Graeme Banyard took heart from such a Pyrrhic defeat sending out ten of the eleven that starting that game with Ross White the sole change as Mark Wardell took a pew on the sidelines.

Where ducks had paddled mere hours before as the heavens opened upon Champion Hill, the remains of the pitch prepared for potato planting by the players' preparations pre-match. No chance of flowing football here. Pastoral pleasures forsaken for a gung-ho, up and at 'em game. Over the trenches and into Flanders fields, bayonets fixed and tin hats for protection from enemy cannon. Gilded youth first to swoop, a neat pass from a Dulwich corner found Gerry Gonnella loitering on the edge of the area. With intent, indeed, as he drilled a low shot through a pack of players but lacking the power to deceive the alert Ian Chatfield. Soon after the garrulous 'keeper was swiftly out of his goalmouth as Dulwich's thundering herd threatened once more, a flicked pass in from the flanks had Bowen off in pursuit only to find Chatfield earning a mention in dispatches with a brave save at the feet of his adversary.

On the quarter hour enemy lines were breached with a Big Bertha of a strike from Pinnock catching Chatfield off guard. For Pinnock it was a moment to savour as he supped from the cup of success after thirsting for goals since mid January when last he found the net. If the finish was sublime, the Merstham defence must look to their failings with a clearance that left the custodian in No Man's Land as Pinnock met the ball with the most precise of volleys over Chatfield's head.

Merstham's own battle charger, skipper Wes Goggin, was in the thick of things for the visitors as they tried to wrestle their way back into contention. Even when floored by a close range howitzer of a clearance, no cheap pass back to a bed in Blighty for Goggin but a shot of brandy and back to the battle lines once more.

Dulwich's militia had the upper hand though. Sol Pinnock robbed of the ball by Chatfield, charging out of his area to rescue a sluggish defence. Head scratching from the Hamlet when goalkeeper and defender had a rush of blood leaving Frankie Sawyer a clear run on to an empty goal only to be halted in his tracks as raised flag meant no goal.

37 minutes and number two for the Hamlet. Deshi and sensei in harmony as Pinnock surged down the left wing, beating Chatfield at the near post with a hammered low drive across the face of the goal. Mud, blood and bullets as defender and attacker swooped in but it was Bowen who emerged from the shellhole with the prize as the ball was forced over the line. The Champion Hill terraces "en fête". To score once, a relief, twice, such joy. Now would a third just be showing off? Then again perhaps the two goal cushion is not all it's cracked up to be. Ask a Catalan. As if to reinforce the fragility of such a lead, Gonnella had a close range effort well blocked after Sawyer's endeavours on the flanks had teed up the opportunity only for Merstham to switch the focus. A shot lashed across the face of goal was battered away by an underemployed Phil Wilson but Gavin Gordon, a deadly marksman on his day but out of sorts with a mishit shot that skewed wide of an inviting net splayed before him.

The early warning siren had sounded and three minutes into the second half the bomb landed. Skulduggery in the Hamlet box as Gonnella was spotted by referee Mr O'Brien involved in nefarious acts of fouling. The skeletal Mr O'Brien always has the lean look of man in need of a good meal but it was the Moatsiders that had something to chew on with the award of the a spot kick. The onus fell on Dale Marvell with regular taker, Craig Vernon, hors de combat and though Wilson was within a gnat's fart of clawing the ball out, the power and precision of a ball belted high into the roof of the net served the purpose.

What might have been a death knell for Hamlet hopes became a clarion call and the troops rallied, Pinnock the standard bearer as the two goal advantage was restored 'ere two minutes had elapsed. Jousting with the last defender, Pinnock emerged victorious in pursuit of the quarry, a lofted ball behind the defence. Chatfield advanced, narrowed the angle but the striker's instinct prevailed as Pinnock calmly struck the ball home

Deflated Merstham wilted. Dulwich attacked again and again looking to ad to their tally. With the old solider to the fore, Dulwich came at the Moatsiders with intent in their eyes. Bowen outjumped Chatfield to meet a free kick at the back of the six yard box only to loop his header on to the roof of the net. Moments later he mugged Adam Moriarty for the ball setting up Gonnella only for a brave block to charge down his shot. Bowen again getting in betwixt defender and 'keeper to knock the ball into space in the penalty area but tyro substitute Alfred Gbanie failed to react in time and the ball was hoofed behind for a corner.

A late renaissance for the visitors with a screamer of a shot out of nothing from fully 35 yards courtesy of Wesley Bartlett, the strike beyond the outstretched fingertips of Wilson but crashing back against the crossbar before Marvell's free kick penetrated the defensive wall but proved no more than an irritant for the Hamlet number one. The game had escaped them. Dulwich will take heart from rare victory if only to provide the first building blocks of the next campaign.