Three weeks without a game, you would have thought the second’s home game would be inundated with players wanting a game. Not so, the usual domino effect of the first team shortages cascaded down the sides.

Yet again captain Jack Beckwith abandoned his post to seek glory in the first team. It’s déjà vu all over again, without the milk.

On the Saturday we were assured by Jack (as he was having his ego massaged by his new first team buddies) that we had a full complement of thirteen players, with ‘maybe’ a couple of students coming down. So why were we stood on the pitch with thirty minutes till kick-off with just eleven? A few phone calls later, we find out that Dan Oswald doesn’t even know he is playing, and is enjoying a nice leisurely full English breakfast. Luckily for us, Dan is a quick eater, and he was down just as the ref blew his whistle to start. We still don’t know who Jack sent his supposed message to, lost in space perhaps, and picked up by some alien race a million years from now. I suspect they would return a message saying they would have to cry-off because they had really bad alien flu.

---- The Game ----
Miraculously, by kick-off Sefton had fifteen, and thus narrowly avoiding St Eddies gracious offer of lending us Jonny Orr. Wait a minute you might say, is this the same Jonny Orr that used to play for Sefton, who you struggled to get any subs off, the one that me and Campo used spend our Saturday mornings round at his house, trying to persuade his younger brother to wake him up, only to be told, “you don’t want to go in there”. Yes it was, the Judas, switching allegiances faster than his fickle conscience. I hope St Eddies enjoy trying to get money out of him.

Sefton’s full complement didn’t however prevents St Eddies registering a quick score, with the ball passed wide at a lineout, and their winger going over in the corner. It appeared Sefton hadn’t yet woken up.

Despite giving away a number of penalties, Sefton managed to keep them at bay, and had several excursions within the oppositions twenty-two, but their defence was well organised and numerous handling error by Sefton allowed them to escape.

Sefton’s main success was in the forwards, at the scrums and lineouts, and though they stifled the opposition they couldn’t prevent them having the ball all the time. With St Eddies finishing very clinical, they took the ball wide at every opportunity, and used their quick backs to score in the corners.

The fiery Dan Leary was at it again, he is so proficient now, he seems to be able to have an argument with himself. He has obviously learnt from the best, being watched from the side-lines by his dad, who almost got sent off himself, without even playing. After a few breathing exercises Dan calmed down a little, and agreed he should go off for a bit, still arguing with himself under his breath.

A yellow card for Owen Collins late on, allowed St Eddies to accumulate a bigger score than Sefton would have liked, but as is apparent St Eddies have been flying up the leagues, and I’m sure they haven’t finished their climb. It will be interesting to see if they keep this up, or whether their reinvigorated player recruitment will start to drop away, once the games start to get tougher. They could always drop out the League, and start at the bottom again.

A short report I know, but the low score defines how much glory is dished out. Players out of position never helps, and despite some strong runs by Dan Oswald and Kev McCombie in the centres, they couldn’t quite break through. Another fine performance by Kyle Robinson, filling in at stand-off and full-back, but Player of the Match went to Kyle Sanders with some great carries in the forwards.

Away at Wirral next Saturday, the question is will we still be rudderless, with the captain still thinking the first team value his insightful rugby input.

---- Who is Sean Muirhead ----
Off now to ponder the unanswerable question, who is Sean Muirhead? Is he compiling a bully journal, containing all the cheap digs he has endured over the past two years, I hope so, I'm running out of material, I might have to repeat forgotten insults. How long can I flog this dead horse, you might ask. Until he admits that he is an evil Bond villain with a secret lair. I'm watching you Muirhead.