Oxford Comments
by Oxford Balderson
Ta-da! And now its time to
give away the flying ficicle finger
of fate award for soccer. And
wiio will the award go to this
time?
One contestant is Tusculum.
They came into town with
30,000 players for a single
soccer match with UNC-A, (who
incidentally only had thirteen).
Wave upon wave of orange shirts
blinded the foe and Tusculum
sneaked by UNC-A 5-1. The
Bulldogs played brilliantly but
the sun was too fright and a gnat
got in Rodrigo’s eye and John
tripped over a tree and Oxford,
who played a fantastic game,
slipped into a cow pile. Mike
Lemieux played goalie for the
first time and played well,aving
the team from utter
embarrassment, holding up his
extra large pants. John March
and Lars (kick anything that
moves) Pptersen did a_great duet
at fullback disabling nearly four
enemy forwards. Bill Coonan
played a heroic game despite a
bad foot (no pun intended). And
big Wayne Shelton was. Centre
forward was held down by
Andy, call him El Greco for
short.
Throughout the first half,
UNC-A played heroicly and had
them 0-3. But in the second half,
Osford got a stroke of genius
and banked a beautiful shot off
a Chicken Delight delivery boy
for a and that’s how it ended,
1-5.
Another contestant is
Wingate. The Wingate field was
beautiful, from about 25,000
feet. The game progressed well
until Lawrence of Arabia
emerged from the dust storm in
the middle of the field. Again,
UNC-A was out manned by the
foes. No substitutes were present
for the visitors, while the
Piedmont boys dressed out the
entire town of Monroe. Ken
O’Connor scored the
\ I
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•PIKE
game-saving goal as UNC-A who,
by the way, played a lousy
game, lost 1-7. No offense,
sunken defense, no passing, no
teamwork, you know, the usual.
But Erskine, ah! they deserve
it. Charlie, Mario, Kiki, Tommy,
Davis and the rest showed no
mercy> demolishing the Bulldogs
(Bull-what?) 20-0. Flayer, coach,
captain John Marcy did his best
to rally together a team out of
nothing. Only Mike Lemieux
played a good mage. There was
no offense at all, so the defense
was forced to play at least 60
seconds out of every minute.
There was no coach aside from
John to shout and scream and
generally be ignored by the
team. If anyone deserves the
Flying Fickle Finger of Fate
Waard, the Flying Fleet would
be the ones. Yep, Let’s give
them the finger!
a
OCT. I
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