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SP puts the Punch in the Music Industry soccer sixes! Upton Park, London Sunday 21st May 2006


A director's recollection by Malcolm Martin

A gritty urban mixture of hard knocks, comedy and adventure, no not the Ad line for 'Sucker Punch' the movie, this was the description of the 'Sucker Punch' six a side team that gatecrashed the prestigious Music Industry celebrity charity soccer event at Upton Park, home of 'The Hammers'. Top soap stars, with teams from 'The Bill', 'Corrie' and 'Hollyoaks', mingled with radio DJ'S, television presenters and music stars to raise money for charity and, in a move that Harley himself would have been proud of, Danny John Jules and the boys from 'Sucker Punch' blagged themselves a full strip and a shot at the championship. Nobody saw us coming but they all knew we were there!

The team consisted of Joe Long (News in the movie) as our gaffer, Tamer Hassan (Del boy), Danny John Jules (Harley), Leon Walters (Creel), Chris (News sidekick), Colin McMillan (former World boxing champion) Tiger (Tamer's mate), Max (from Radio London), Austin (who are you, who are you???), Peter Hucker (former QPR Goalkeeper) and yours truly, playing after a twelve year lay-off. I knew I would be in trouble when I ran out of puff putting my shin pads on but in our Celtic style strip we all decided it was just a bit of fun, a knockabout for charity, good Pr, no pressure, a good day out, just a lark in the park and we were going to fucking win it!

Our first game was against the 'Hollyoaks' hunks and they really were a good looking bunch of fit lads straight off of the tele. We got off to a bit of a bad start when the ref told both teams 'no above head height' and I innocently asked if he meant the tackles, with Tamer stood like a brick shithouse beside me. The ref saw the funny side but some hunk's tango tans went very, very pale. We immediately opted for an attacking 1-5 formation, which meant we all left Peter all on his lonesome in our half while we chased glory and what a great job he did of it, stopping everything the Hollyoaks Hunks could throw at him. Thanks to Peter's blinding performance we slaughtered them to a 0-0 draw and this against one of the pre-tournament favourites. 'The Gaffer' was well-chuffed with his rotation system, even when it meant that we had seven on the field because someone hadn't gone off, totally unintentionally of course.

Oh, did I mention the rain? It was of biblical proportions and one of the teams had their centre forward knocked out by a plummeting cat, whilst in a corner an old guy was ripping up part of the Upton Park terracing and making it into an Ark. We didn't care, we had held the young bucks from Hollyoaks to a draw and were even more convinced that we were going to win it, although Peter did say that he would quite like one defender with him some of the time and Tamer promised that if he couldn't get the man he would occasionally go for the ball. We were soaked, happy and confident, although little Austin almost drowned in a puddle.

My only worry after the first round was that our Gaffer wasn't using the correct football lingo when he shouted at us-we should have been Danno, Tammo, Malco, Maxo, Chrissy Boy, Macca etc but he did everything else right, so we let him off. Next up was a team of DJ's including their token pro-former top class centre half Steve (Tottenham) Sedgley. Once again, using an unorthodox attacking formation that once again saw Peter as 'Billy No Mates' in goal, we slaughtered them 1-0 and endeared ourselves to the crowd, who chanted 'boring, boring Arsenal' at us.

After having actually kicked the ball twice, once without falling over, and sprinting like a Battersea Dogs Home Greyhound with asthma up the touchline, I needed the physio and decided to avail myself of the team of masseurs that were there to patch us up. Now, when I think of a massage I think of those wonderful scenes with Sylvia Kristel in the 'Emmanuelle' movies, but man was I in for a shock! These boys were right out of the Spanish Inquisition and after a few seconds of 'gentle massage' on my thigh, not only was I admitting to being a heretic, I promised to squeal on all the rest of the team, putting in writing that Leon was actually Satan.

I only lasted a few seconds of our third group game but we grew in confidence as a team, confident enough to stand and watch as the opposition peppered our goal, laughing at their futile attempts to beat the incredible Peter Hucker. Then, with a lightning counter attack, instigated by Danny the crab's across the penalty box pass, we scored to lead 1-0. With the clock ticking down, Tamer decided that the best way to prevent the other team scoring was to reduce their numbers, which he attempted with a fantastic impression of Bruce Lee. The referee didn't appreciate the way Tamer could get his leg so high and after he found the other guy's head and put it back on, sent Tamer off. This was the first time this had ever happened at the Soccer Sixes and I felt so proud, only three games in and already we were making history.

The quarter final draw saw us up against 'The Bill' and although they may look right hard cases on the box as they shout 'you're nicked my son', they didn't fancy facing the Turkish terror, so we were informed that Tamer had to serve a one match ban! The Gaffer was sick as a parrot, pointing out that not only had the other guy lived but he was already beginning to remember certain people's names and communicate through sign language. With Tamer out and myself injured beyond repair, winning was a tall order, especially as 'The Bill' side were looking good in the warm -up.

To add to our problems, our wonder goalie, Peter, was feeling the strain. At 105 he was the oldest man in the tournament and after every game his knees began to swell up a little bit more. By the time we played 'The Bill' his kneecaps looked like Jordan's jugs (after enlargement surgery), whilst Danny went to the medical team to see if they could do something to his feet to make him kick the ball forwards. The gaffer, reading from his book of soccer clichés reminded us that it was a funny old game, it only takes a second to score a goal, it's not over until the final whistle and it's rude to stare at Peter's knees.

Well, despite all these setbacks the Sucker Punch spirit shone through and, against all the odds, we beat 'The Bill' 2-1 and found ourselves in the semi final and dreaming of glory. Even the crowd were beginning to warm to us and one young star struck fan called me over to the terraces, autograph book in hand. As I got ready to sign my name with a flourish, he asked me if I could run over to the Liberty X girls team and get them to sign his book and bring it back. Cheeky little….

We were told that we had an hour to wait for our semi and the gaffer mentioned something about important tactics and formations that he had to discuss with the barman in the VIP Hospitality suite. Sensing the urgency of this discussion, half the team decided to go with him. No sooner had they gone, than the floor manager told me that we were due on in five! We had Pete, with knees that now looked like they had kid's swimming armbands wrapped around them, little Austin, who asked if he could only play in the shallow end, me, Danny the crab and Max, enough we were told, to start the game.

Just as the first whistle blew the gaffer returned with the rest of the team, the important tactics still smelling on his breath, as he asked me how long we had been playing. Realising it was still 0-0, he immediately continued his now famous rotation system, bringing Danny off, on, and off again all within 40 seconds. At one stage he even brought Danny off and replaced him with his bandana. Genius! It was not enough, however and even with Austin swimming manfully up the wing (against the tide), we lost 3-1 and our dream was over.

We had done our bit though and the Gaffer was proud of us, adding that we had really promoted the film and done our bit for charidee. For myself, there were some precious memories and some bizarre sights, not least the girl's teams, made up of sexy starlets. They looked so different from on the box-so much shorter than I'd imagined-in fact, one team running to the pitch in fits of giggles looked like a group of fifth form schoolgirls running out for P.E, except they all had enormous tits.

As I drove home, Upton Park's magnificent towers in my rear view mirror, I thought of the near future, the film's release and the prospect of returning again, stars after everyone had seen us coming and do you know what….

I was over the moon Jim, over the moon.