I've been teaching English in Brussels for nearly a year and a half. I'm classed as independent, but I work mostly at one language centre in Crainhem called CLL. I teach group and private lessons both at the centre and in businesses in and around Brussels. The students I teach cover the full spectrum of age, from young kids to teenagers to adults and even pensioners.
There are many things I enjoy about my job. There's no shortage of people wanting to learn English, and because I'm independent I get to choose my hours. Between 25 and 30 a week is enough to live on, providing I don't crash too many sports cars or have too many champagne breakfasts. The majority of the students want to be there so, with the exception of a few mopey adolescents, motivation and discipline aren't a problem. The ambiance of the classroom is also helped by the fact that lessons at CLL have a maximum of eight students.
People sometimes ask if you need to speak French in order to teach English in Brussels. The answer is no. In fact, in some ways not speaking French is an advantage. Translating is a big no-no where I work. Total immersion is the order of the day. Often a student will ask a simple question, like 'how do you say sel (salt)?' It's tempting, and quicker, to just say salt, but it's not the way to learn a language. You have to give a puzzled look, ask 'what's that?' and force them to explain.
Keeping the lesson completely French-free is the hardest part of the job, especially with teenagers. With them it's easier to be strict about it. I turn into a dictator. They roll their eyes and scoff with that adolescent outrage, but it works. With the adults it's harder. While it's frustrating, I can empathise. I've taken a couple of French courses at CLL (they're free for me - another perk), and often I'll speak in English outside the classroom with the other students. Once you've spoken comfortably in a common language switching to another one can be a bit odd.
When I was doing my EFL teacher training course we learnt about the specific language needs of certain nationalities. The Japanese, famously, can't pronounce r's (surprise becomes supplies), whereas the Poles always forget the articles ("excuse me please, where is post office?"). Spanish speakers struggle with words that begin with s and a consonant. Spain, for example, or straight. In Spanish any word that begins with s and a consonant is preceded by an e, and thus Spain becomes ehSpain. The Italians put a vowel on the end of every word and draw it out. The Portuguese turn beach into bitch. The Russians forget articles AND pronouns. Is big problem.
After 18 months of teaching French-speaking Belgians I can talk at length about the problems they have when learning English. Pronunciation problems are the most obvious. The th sound is very difficult. The three fathers, for example (not a suitable example for lessons on council estates, or with any of Madonna's three children). The h disappears from many a word. It's very 'ot in zis 'otel. They also have trouble with the awe sound in words like caught, taught, fought and thought. I tried to think of a snappy sentence that combines all these challenges, but the best I could do was 'I thought that there were three hot mothers'.
The most challenging grammar subject is the difference between the past simple and the present perfect simple. In French j'ai vu can mean either I saw or I have seen, depending on the context. The simple explanation is that the past simple always refers to a specific time in the past (I saw her yesterday), whereas the present perfect does not (I've already seen this film). Just as common, though easier to correct, is the use of the present continuous instead of the present simple.
There are also numerous examples of a verb in French that has two meanings in English. Make and do (faire) is the most challenging, but there's also say and tell (dire), speak and talk (parler), look and watch (regarder).
In French the word the is used with gay abandon. In English it's only used when referring to something common to both speaker and listener (but of course there are exceptions). One of my students was so persistent in her overuse of the word the that I devised a system whereby I would raise my right arm if she used it incorrectly. After two hours my arm was ready to drop off.
Although I never speak French during the lessons, I use the mistakes my students make to aid my French. The students translate literally from French to English and thus inadvertently give me a mini lesson. Explain me, I heard over and over again. Hmm, I thought, must be explique-moi in French. I phoned to my parents. I thought to you. For breakfast I take a croissant. I lived there during three months. I live here since two years. And on, and on...
Monday, 29 December 2008
Thursday, 25 December 2008
Christmas in Belgium
In many ways Christmas in Belgium is a lot like Christmas in Britain. However, there are a few little differences between our two small countries.
The Belgians like mulled wine, but in French it's called hot wine. Crazy or what?
We have a Christmas log, or Yule log, whereas the Belgians have this thing called a Bush de Noel. They also have this beer called Bush, and at Christmas they bring out a special version called Bush de Noel. The beer is delicious. The pun is not.
They eat this large sweet bread loaf type thing called a cougnons. I can't pronounce it, but I do enjoy eating it. It's like a scone, though slightly sweeter and more moist. For added significance they put a marzipan Jesus on top.
For many Belgians the present giving starts on Christmas Eve, and when it's over they go to midnight mass.
The Belgians have no idea what Christmas crackers are. I bought a box in Sterling, the English bookshop in Brussels, and they caused much delight amongst my students. That delight ended when they read the jokes that are inside the cracker. Here's one that failed to win them over to English humour: Who wore the first shell suit? Humpty Dumpty.
One of the most important differences is that, for kids at least, St. Nicolas comes first and Father Christmas second. I had an interesting discussion with a student who said that when she was a child St. Nicolas was much more important than Father Christmas, but now they're more or less the same. Sad really. I hate seeing local customs being swallowed up by western hegemony. There's also a tragic irony in the fact that the character of Father Christmas was based largely on St. Nicolas. In case you don't know, he was a 19th century priest in Holland who delivered presents to needy children. Coca Cola took that idea, gave him a magic sleigh and some reindeer and voila.
Merry Christmas. Joyeux Noel.
The Belgians like mulled wine, but in French it's called hot wine. Crazy or what?
We have a Christmas log, or Yule log, whereas the Belgians have this thing called a Bush de Noel. They also have this beer called Bush, and at Christmas they bring out a special version called Bush de Noel. The beer is delicious. The pun is not.
They eat this large sweet bread loaf type thing called a cougnons. I can't pronounce it, but I do enjoy eating it. It's like a scone, though slightly sweeter and more moist. For added significance they put a marzipan Jesus on top.
For many Belgians the present giving starts on Christmas Eve, and when it's over they go to midnight mass.
The Belgians have no idea what Christmas crackers are. I bought a box in Sterling, the English bookshop in Brussels, and they caused much delight amongst my students. That delight ended when they read the jokes that are inside the cracker. Here's one that failed to win them over to English humour: Who wore the first shell suit? Humpty Dumpty.
One of the most important differences is that, for kids at least, St. Nicolas comes first and Father Christmas second. I had an interesting discussion with a student who said that when she was a child St. Nicolas was much more important than Father Christmas, but now they're more or less the same. Sad really. I hate seeing local customs being swallowed up by western hegemony. There's also a tragic irony in the fact that the character of Father Christmas was based largely on St. Nicolas. In case you don't know, he was a 19th century priest in Holland who delivered presents to needy children. Coca Cola took that idea, gave him a magic sleigh and some reindeer and voila.
Merry Christmas. Joyeux Noel.
Tuesday, 23 December 2008
Top 10 Traditional Belgian Bars in Brussels
In November my mate Andy the Sausage (ATS) and I went on a pub-crawl in Brussels. I’ve been so busy in the intervening weeks that I haven’t had time to write about it. Now that I’m home with Christmas music playing and free time wallowing like mulled wine on the stove I’ll share all the details.
The idea for the crawl came from an article I saw on the Guardian website. It was a list of the Top 10 Traditional Belgian Bars in Brussels. Although I’d lived here for nearly a year and a half I had only heard of one of them, Le Corbeau (the Raven). I only knew it as a nightclub where people danced on tables. It was here that the pub-crawl began.
Or it would have had it been open. Having walked for ten minutes in persistent rain ATS and I were none too impressed with this inauspicious start. Undeterred, we took the metro to La Bourse and headed to Manakin Piss. Tourists are most likely to fall for the bar of the same name across the street from the iconic statue, but our destination was nestled in the corner just opposite. Poechenellekelder. Try saying that five times fast. In fact, just try saying it once.
I liked it immediately. Up a small stair case you come to a bustling place, packed to the rafters, swarming with noise and beer and smoke. Innumerable objects cover the walls; puppets, postcards, framed photos. At first there was nowhere to sit, but a few people left and we found a spare corner. We ordered La Divine, 9.5%. Delicious. The barmen whirl around the place. As we gazed at the walls we noticed that half the pictures were of Manakin Piss.
From there we didn’t really know which was the nearest place. We ended up having to go to the tourist information centre on Grand Place, where a lovely young Belgian girl marked each destination on a map. We headed to Au Bon Vieux Temps, but it was busy so we headed next door to A l’Imaige Nostre Dame. Small, cosy, quiet, but alive. A waitress came. I like that. A family was there with a dog, and the resident cat didn’t like it. We drank a beer called Malheur. 10%. The cat came and slept next to us.
From there we went back next-door to Au Bon Vieux Temps. This time there was seating. That was the easy part. Getting served proved very difficult. I tried to ask for Corsendonk at the bar, but the woman insisted she would come to the table. She didn’t. ATS went to the bar and waited for an eternity. Eventually we got our beer. It was delicious.
A La Becasse was next. This was one of my favourites. We arrived at a time of transition. A few families were hanging around, but it wasn’t late enough for the crowds of young people that must throng here as the evening begins. We got a plate of cheese with the beer. So Belgian. The waiters all wear monastic-style uniforms, proper waistcoats and striped shirts. The cheese was delicious and so was the beer. Lambic. It came in a big jug and tasted like apple juice. In my notes I wrote JWTDO. I have no idea what that means.
For the next bar we had to navigate Rue des Bouchers, which is difficult in the evening as you’re constantly harassed by the owners of the seafood restaurants trying to entice you inside. The bar itself was quality. Estaminet Toone. It’s a puppet theatre and a bar, but we only sampled the latter as time was running short. It took a while to get served. While we waited we petted yet another cat. This one was named Chiffon. We ordered Barbar. Delicious. Two lovely girls sat next to us, but didn’t seem interested in talking. We didn’t mind. We had the cat. We thought there was a large fire next to us in the fireplace, but it was actually a large candle.
We needed to hurry. Match of the Day started at 11pm and there were too many good games to miss. The next place was In’t Spinnekopke. What we had forgotten was that after 6pm this place becomes a restaurant. Unfortunately it does not have a single vegetarian thing on the menu. Typical Belgian I suppose. We left and headed quickly to A La Mort Subite.
It’s a huge, spacious place with long, packed tables and long mirrors. Busy, boisterous, barmen in red waistcoats. We got the house beer, sour, but delicious. By this point it was getting hard to write, so I can’t tell you what I wrote in my notes. I do remember thinking that it was a quality place and would be great for a large gathering.
The last place we managed was the Taverne Greenwich. This place is famous in Brussels not for its beer, but for its dedication to the game of chess. Each table was occupied by men and women of various ages playing chess together. ATS and I, despite the encroaching drunkenness, took a chess set and began playing. We ordered a beer that I can’t remember because I was too drunk to write, or rather too engrossed in our game. While ATS pondered his moves I gazed at the green and white-tiled floors, the immense ceiling and spacious interior. With ATS on the verge of victory I was saved by the bell. It was time to head to a typical Irish bar, the Hairy Canary, and watch Match of the Day.
So one bar that was closed, one that was too far away and one that didn’t have any veggie food. Seven out of ten was plenty. So what is typical Belgian? The first thing you have to say is the beer. Dozens and dozens of different kinds and all delicious. Then there’s the cheese. Little plates of cheese cubes with pickles and onions and slices of meat. You don’t see that too often in England. There are little things like the décor, the pictures on the wall and the ambience. Despite the thousands of tourists and expats in Brussels most of the people we saw in the bars were Belgians. All in all this is a great city and a great country in which to do a bar crawl.
The idea for the crawl came from an article I saw on the Guardian website. It was a list of the Top 10 Traditional Belgian Bars in Brussels. Although I’d lived here for nearly a year and a half I had only heard of one of them, Le Corbeau (the Raven). I only knew it as a nightclub where people danced on tables. It was here that the pub-crawl began.
Or it would have had it been open. Having walked for ten minutes in persistent rain ATS and I were none too impressed with this inauspicious start. Undeterred, we took the metro to La Bourse and headed to Manakin Piss. Tourists are most likely to fall for the bar of the same name across the street from the iconic statue, but our destination was nestled in the corner just opposite. Poechenellekelder. Try saying that five times fast. In fact, just try saying it once.
I liked it immediately. Up a small stair case you come to a bustling place, packed to the rafters, swarming with noise and beer and smoke. Innumerable objects cover the walls; puppets, postcards, framed photos. At first there was nowhere to sit, but a few people left and we found a spare corner. We ordered La Divine, 9.5%. Delicious. The barmen whirl around the place. As we gazed at the walls we noticed that half the pictures were of Manakin Piss.
From there we didn’t really know which was the nearest place. We ended up having to go to the tourist information centre on Grand Place, where a lovely young Belgian girl marked each destination on a map. We headed to Au Bon Vieux Temps, but it was busy so we headed next door to A l’Imaige Nostre Dame. Small, cosy, quiet, but alive. A waitress came. I like that. A family was there with a dog, and the resident cat didn’t like it. We drank a beer called Malheur. 10%. The cat came and slept next to us.
From there we went back next-door to Au Bon Vieux Temps. This time there was seating. That was the easy part. Getting served proved very difficult. I tried to ask for Corsendonk at the bar, but the woman insisted she would come to the table. She didn’t. ATS went to the bar and waited for an eternity. Eventually we got our beer. It was delicious.
A La Becasse was next. This was one of my favourites. We arrived at a time of transition. A few families were hanging around, but it wasn’t late enough for the crowds of young people that must throng here as the evening begins. We got a plate of cheese with the beer. So Belgian. The waiters all wear monastic-style uniforms, proper waistcoats and striped shirts. The cheese was delicious and so was the beer. Lambic. It came in a big jug and tasted like apple juice. In my notes I wrote JWTDO. I have no idea what that means.
For the next bar we had to navigate Rue des Bouchers, which is difficult in the evening as you’re constantly harassed by the owners of the seafood restaurants trying to entice you inside. The bar itself was quality. Estaminet Toone. It’s a puppet theatre and a bar, but we only sampled the latter as time was running short. It took a while to get served. While we waited we petted yet another cat. This one was named Chiffon. We ordered Barbar. Delicious. Two lovely girls sat next to us, but didn’t seem interested in talking. We didn’t mind. We had the cat. We thought there was a large fire next to us in the fireplace, but it was actually a large candle.
We needed to hurry. Match of the Day started at 11pm and there were too many good games to miss. The next place was In’t Spinnekopke. What we had forgotten was that after 6pm this place becomes a restaurant. Unfortunately it does not have a single vegetarian thing on the menu. Typical Belgian I suppose. We left and headed quickly to A La Mort Subite.
It’s a huge, spacious place with long, packed tables and long mirrors. Busy, boisterous, barmen in red waistcoats. We got the house beer, sour, but delicious. By this point it was getting hard to write, so I can’t tell you what I wrote in my notes. I do remember thinking that it was a quality place and would be great for a large gathering.
The last place we managed was the Taverne Greenwich. This place is famous in Brussels not for its beer, but for its dedication to the game of chess. Each table was occupied by men and women of various ages playing chess together. ATS and I, despite the encroaching drunkenness, took a chess set and began playing. We ordered a beer that I can’t remember because I was too drunk to write, or rather too engrossed in our game. While ATS pondered his moves I gazed at the green and white-tiled floors, the immense ceiling and spacious interior. With ATS on the verge of victory I was saved by the bell. It was time to head to a typical Irish bar, the Hairy Canary, and watch Match of the Day.
So one bar that was closed, one that was too far away and one that didn’t have any veggie food. Seven out of ten was plenty. So what is typical Belgian? The first thing you have to say is the beer. Dozens and dozens of different kinds and all delicious. Then there’s the cheese. Little plates of cheese cubes with pickles and onions and slices of meat. You don’t see that too often in England. There are little things like the décor, the pictures on the wall and the ambience. Despite the thousands of tourists and expats in Brussels most of the people we saw in the bars were Belgians. All in all this is a great city and a great country in which to do a bar crawl.
FC Irlande - Matchday 13
FC Irlande 3 - 0 Goalois
After our last two matches were cancelled because of the weather we were eager to get back on the pitch and back to winning ways, especially as it was our last match before the two-week Christmas break.
Goalois proved difficult opposition when we played them on the opening day of the season. They passed the ball well and had a strong, quick defense. It was only thanks to a somewhat fortuitous goal in the last two minutes that we beat them. No such drama this time. Just a solid beating to round of a fantastic first half of the season.
We were missing a few regulars, but in their place came a couple of new boys, Yann and Charles, two Frenchmen eager to make their debut for FC Irlande after weeks of training and two aborted matches. With no Sigve or Pauli I started up front with Pete the Dutchman.
It took us a while to get any kind of rhythm going, but once we did we looked good. Fred and Charles did well in the centre, and our defense of Enda, Adrian and Alec kept chances to a minimum. Emmett had a good shot saved, there were a couple of goal mouth scrambles, but no breakthrough. We were on top at half time, but it remained 0-0.
In the second half we upped the pace a bit and began dominating. The breakthrough came after a long punt up field by our goalie, Chris. It all happened so fast and furiously that I can't recall the exact details, but in trying to clear the ball their defender hit it against me and suddenly I was away. I cut inside from the left and chipped the keeper. 1-0. Pete tried to claim an assist, but to no avail.
I had the feeling that once we got the breakthrough we'd have the confidence and impetus to go on and dominate the game, and so it proved. Yann did well down the right and found his compatriot Charles about 25 yards from goal. With little back lift he drilled a low shot into the far corner of the goal. 2-0.
Goalois didn't lie down, though, and Chris made a good save to keep it at 2-0. Had they got it back to 2-1 things might have been different. Instead we went down the other end and scored one of the goals of the season. After a few passes on the right, Pete laid it back to Enda in defense, and he hit a sweeping cross-field pass that ran perfectly into my path. I cut in from the left and played a one-two with Charles. Goalois claimed offside, and in truth I felt sure it would be given. We'll never know, though, and while they were still flat-footed I nicked inside and fed Pete, who slotted calmly into an empty net. 3-0.
The last action of the game saw Christophe come agonisingly close to putting a real gloss on the scoreline. I fed Charles on the break and he dummied for Christophe, who hit a first time shot that crashed off the bar. No matter. 3-0, another three points, another clean sheet.
FC Irlande: Chris Jones, Enda, Adrian, Alec, Emmett (Christophe), Fred, Charles, Yann, David, Ross, Pete
Goals: Ross, Charles, Pete
Man of the Match: Charles. A goal and assist on his debut.
After our last two matches were cancelled because of the weather we were eager to get back on the pitch and back to winning ways, especially as it was our last match before the two-week Christmas break.
Goalois proved difficult opposition when we played them on the opening day of the season. They passed the ball well and had a strong, quick defense. It was only thanks to a somewhat fortuitous goal in the last two minutes that we beat them. No such drama this time. Just a solid beating to round of a fantastic first half of the season.
We were missing a few regulars, but in their place came a couple of new boys, Yann and Charles, two Frenchmen eager to make their debut for FC Irlande after weeks of training and two aborted matches. With no Sigve or Pauli I started up front with Pete the Dutchman.
It took us a while to get any kind of rhythm going, but once we did we looked good. Fred and Charles did well in the centre, and our defense of Enda, Adrian and Alec kept chances to a minimum. Emmett had a good shot saved, there were a couple of goal mouth scrambles, but no breakthrough. We were on top at half time, but it remained 0-0.
In the second half we upped the pace a bit and began dominating. The breakthrough came after a long punt up field by our goalie, Chris. It all happened so fast and furiously that I can't recall the exact details, but in trying to clear the ball their defender hit it against me and suddenly I was away. I cut inside from the left and chipped the keeper. 1-0. Pete tried to claim an assist, but to no avail.
I had the feeling that once we got the breakthrough we'd have the confidence and impetus to go on and dominate the game, and so it proved. Yann did well down the right and found his compatriot Charles about 25 yards from goal. With little back lift he drilled a low shot into the far corner of the goal. 2-0.
Goalois didn't lie down, though, and Chris made a good save to keep it at 2-0. Had they got it back to 2-1 things might have been different. Instead we went down the other end and scored one of the goals of the season. After a few passes on the right, Pete laid it back to Enda in defense, and he hit a sweeping cross-field pass that ran perfectly into my path. I cut in from the left and played a one-two with Charles. Goalois claimed offside, and in truth I felt sure it would be given. We'll never know, though, and while they were still flat-footed I nicked inside and fed Pete, who slotted calmly into an empty net. 3-0.
The last action of the game saw Christophe come agonisingly close to putting a real gloss on the scoreline. I fed Charles on the break and he dummied for Christophe, who hit a first time shot that crashed off the bar. No matter. 3-0, another three points, another clean sheet.
FC Irlande: Chris Jones, Enda, Adrian, Alec, Emmett (Christophe), Fred, Charles, Yann, David, Ross, Pete
Goals: Ross, Charles, Pete
Man of the Match: Charles. A goal and assist on his debut.
Friday, 5 December 2008
About Me
I just realised I have nothing in the 'About me' section of my profile. When I tried to add what is written below I was met with the message, "must be fewer than 1200 characters", which I found very sad. Something as complex as a human character in less than 1200 characters. That's fewer than 500 words. Ridiculous.
So, rather than edit bits out I'll post it as a blog entry. This description of me is based on 'The Five-Minute Interview', which appears in 'The Independent' everyday.
If I weren't talking to you right now I'd be ...
Probably writing another blog entry. I have some free time, which is very rare at the moment.
A phrase I use far too often ...
“Nice one”
I wish people would take more notice of ...
Litter. Or rather, I wish people would take more notice of clean places and then think about them when they're about to throw their cigarette butt or tissue on the ground.
A common misconception of me is ...
I'm Irish (I'm English) and that I'm 27 (I'm 24).
The most surprising thing that ever happened to me was ...
Moving to the USA when I was 12. One morning my siblings and I went to the kitchen for breakfast and our mother asked casually, “how'd you kids like to move to America?”
I am not a politician but ...
If I was I would make the environment my number one priority. The first thing I'd do is make rail travel cheaper and easier and make air travel more expensive.
I'm good at ...
Teaching, writing and football.
But I'm very bad at ...
Lots of things. Drawing, dancing, DIY, ironing, cooking, folding clothes, multi-tasking, pronouncing r's in French (“Derniere heure”, par example), sitting through a film at the cinema, remembering names, reconciling peoples contrary political views...
The ideal night out is ...
Dinner at a friend's house with some good friends and some new people. Then out to a bar and finally dancing in a club. If it's truly ideal it will end with the first metro home.
In moments of weakness I ...
Rub my head vigourously and exhale exaggeratedly.
You know me as a teacher but in truer life I'd have been ...
A footballer.
The best age to be is...
21.
In a nutshell, my philosophy is this:
Ask yourself: what if everyone had that attitude?
So, rather than edit bits out I'll post it as a blog entry. This description of me is based on 'The Five-Minute Interview', which appears in 'The Independent' everyday.
If I weren't talking to you right now I'd be ...
Probably writing another blog entry. I have some free time, which is very rare at the moment.
A phrase I use far too often ...
“Nice one”
I wish people would take more notice of ...
Litter. Or rather, I wish people would take more notice of clean places and then think about them when they're about to throw their cigarette butt or tissue on the ground.
A common misconception of me is ...
I'm Irish (I'm English) and that I'm 27 (I'm 24).
The most surprising thing that ever happened to me was ...
Moving to the USA when I was 12. One morning my siblings and I went to the kitchen for breakfast and our mother asked casually, “how'd you kids like to move to America?”
I am not a politician but ...
If I was I would make the environment my number one priority. The first thing I'd do is make rail travel cheaper and easier and make air travel more expensive.
I'm good at ...
Teaching, writing and football.
But I'm very bad at ...
Lots of things. Drawing, dancing, DIY, ironing, cooking, folding clothes, multi-tasking, pronouncing r's in French (“Derniere heure”, par example), sitting through a film at the cinema, remembering names, reconciling peoples contrary political views...
The ideal night out is ...
Dinner at a friend's house with some good friends and some new people. Then out to a bar and finally dancing in a club. If it's truly ideal it will end with the first metro home.
In moments of weakness I ...
Rub my head vigourously and exhale exaggeratedly.
You know me as a teacher but in truer life I'd have been ...
A footballer.
The best age to be is...
21.
In a nutshell, my philosophy is this:
Ask yourself: what if everyone had that attitude?
FC Irlande - Matchday 12
La Lorraine 0 - 1 FC Irlande
Massive win.
When Sigve's shot hit the back of the net with five minutes to go my first thought was of Liverpool v Man Utd, April 2007, John O'Shea in the last minute. We didn't play as badly as Man Utd did that day, but there was certainly an element of smash and grab about this latest and, though I use the term often, greatest win.
We knew it would be a tough game, and it was. Along with the Brits, La Lorraine are the best side we've played so far. Throughout the match they passed the ball very well, and were particularly good at switching the play when our central midfield trio was on one side of the pitch. They were all very capable players, good on the ball, but there was no-one truly exceptional. Or rather, no one was made to look exceptional thanks to the sterling work of our defensive trio of Adrian, Christian and Alec.
In the first half, despite their superior possession, we had the two best chances. The first fell to Kieran after their goalie had fumbled a powerful free kick from our big Danish centre back, Christian. It was a guilt-edged chance that Kieran blazed over from six yards. I know how he feels (see matchday 9). The second chance fell to Sigve. One on one with the keeper his shot was well-saved from close range.
0-0 at halftime, and after some good advice from our injured midfielders, Mark and Christophe, we got stronger in the second half. One goal-mouth scramble aside they had no clear-cut chances. The best they could do was shoot from distance, but luckily for us Chris' handling was impecible all afternoon.
With around five minutes left we got the breakthrough. Christian floated another great ball in from 30 yards out, and after a bit of pinball the ball fell to Sigve. His fierce shot cannoned straight off my legs. It would almost certainly have gone in had I avoided it, but just as I was thinking that I'd end the day as the villain, he got the ball again. This time ee made no mistake, burying it left-footed in the corner beyond me and the keeper.
You could see the devastation on their faces, and I knew the game was won. Johnathan and Enda were on and brought great composure when we needed it the most. Long after the final whistle the La Lorraine players were moping on the sideline, wondering how a very good performance had ended in defeat. Strength and perserverance, I'd say. And sheer bloody-mindedness.
FC Irlande: Chris, Adrian,, Christian, Alec, Kieran, Francis (Enda), Fred, Pete (Jonathan), David, Sigve, Ross
Goal: Sigve
Man of the Match: Christian. The big MF didn't put a foot wrong. Colossal.
Massive win.
When Sigve's shot hit the back of the net with five minutes to go my first thought was of Liverpool v Man Utd, April 2007, John O'Shea in the last minute. We didn't play as badly as Man Utd did that day, but there was certainly an element of smash and grab about this latest and, though I use the term often, greatest win.
We knew it would be a tough game, and it was. Along with the Brits, La Lorraine are the best side we've played so far. Throughout the match they passed the ball very well, and were particularly good at switching the play when our central midfield trio was on one side of the pitch. They were all very capable players, good on the ball, but there was no-one truly exceptional. Or rather, no one was made to look exceptional thanks to the sterling work of our defensive trio of Adrian, Christian and Alec.
In the first half, despite their superior possession, we had the two best chances. The first fell to Kieran after their goalie had fumbled a powerful free kick from our big Danish centre back, Christian. It was a guilt-edged chance that Kieran blazed over from six yards. I know how he feels (see matchday 9). The second chance fell to Sigve. One on one with the keeper his shot was well-saved from close range.
0-0 at halftime, and after some good advice from our injured midfielders, Mark and Christophe, we got stronger in the second half. One goal-mouth scramble aside they had no clear-cut chances. The best they could do was shoot from distance, but luckily for us Chris' handling was impecible all afternoon.
With around five minutes left we got the breakthrough. Christian floated another great ball in from 30 yards out, and after a bit of pinball the ball fell to Sigve. His fierce shot cannoned straight off my legs. It would almost certainly have gone in had I avoided it, but just as I was thinking that I'd end the day as the villain, he got the ball again. This time ee made no mistake, burying it left-footed in the corner beyond me and the keeper.
You could see the devastation on their faces, and I knew the game was won. Johnathan and Enda were on and brought great composure when we needed it the most. Long after the final whistle the La Lorraine players were moping on the sideline, wondering how a very good performance had ended in defeat. Strength and perserverance, I'd say. And sheer bloody-mindedness.
FC Irlande: Chris, Adrian,, Christian, Alec, Kieran, Francis (Enda), Fred, Pete (Jonathan), David, Sigve, Ross
Goal: Sigve
Man of the Match: Christian. The big MF didn't put a foot wrong. Colossal.
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