Anchorman Presents: A Tale of Two Narwhal Wins

Blue Marlin – “That Escalated Slowly”

Our first victory of the season arrived in classic Narwhal fashion: slightly chaotic, mildly confrontational, and almost certainly full of confusion. The opposition, Blue Marlin, brought exactly what you would expect. A bit aggy. A bit boisterous. A bit like they couldn’t remember the rules. We, meanwhile, lacked our usual punchy Italian to cancel out theirs, so we did the honourable thing and attempted to deal with him ourselves. Diplomacy was limited. Whistles were plentiful.

It took over six minutes for the first goal to land. Six. Whole. Minutes. Historians are still reviewing the footage to confirm whether we were playing water polo or conducting a live demonstration of advanced shooting avoidance. There were missed penalties. There were missed sitters. There were moments where the ball seemed allergic to the goal frame.

By the fourth quarter it was locked at 4–4. Tense. Cagey. The kind of atmosphere where you can hear every questionable life choice echoing off the tiles of Trinity Pool, a venue we continue to dislike on a spiritual level. Then we did something outrageous. We scored. Repeatedly. Five to their three in the final stretch. Final score: 9–7 to the Narwhals. Our first win of the season.

There was some creative tabling that allowed two of their players to enjoy extended stays in the pool despite three majors each. We won’t dwell on that. We prefer to focus on the positives. Like winning.

Man of the Match went to George, who emerged from nowhere to bag a hat trick. George is our Brick. He loves lamp. He also apparently loves scoring goals, though he looked as surprised as the rest of us. He even delivered one of the few genuinely well worked man ups of the evening.

He also pushed hard for the coveted Golden Narwhal but fell short. He did, however, give away a beautifully fluffable fluffer by wandering into the path of a minor foul like a man lost in IKEA. In the end, TJ claimed the fluffer for a masterclass in loose passing and general fluffiness.

As Matt Finch wisely observed in the second quarter, “Every time I bounce it, it goes in. Sometimes.” Sixty percent of the time, it works every time.

Special mention to Ed Gamble, an exceptional player who I can only assume smells of rich mahogany and success.

Orca B at the London Aquatic Centre – “Afternoon (evening) Delight”

Less than 24 hours later, we took our talents to the magnificent London Aquatic Centre to face Orca B. We travelled light, with a stringy eight players. It was probably going to be a long evening.

Unfortunately, we also travelled alongside approximately 50,000 West Ham fans. Never has the Jubilee line felt so… educational. The traditional pre-match Nando’s was swiftly abandoned in favour of a rushed McDonald’s and two urgent toilet visits. Elite preparation for elite athletes.

Poolside warm up included some light stretching and some genuinely impressive diving from young Olympic hopefuls. Twists. Spins. Grace. Poetry in motion. This was immediately followed by TJ’s running bomb off the 1.5m board.

Grace: no.

Precision: no.

Athletic beauty: absolutely not.

Entertainment value: funny.

Finch Senior and Andy Winterbotham arrived fashionably late after wrestling both traffic and football supporters. Impressively, they still beat the referee to poolside. Professionalism comes in many forms.

We began, as is tradition, slowly. First quarter: 2–2. Then the engine spluttered into life. 7–5. 12–9. 16–10.

Final score: 16–10. Back to back wins. At this point we are basically a dynasty.

Nick Shute was unstoppable, bagging six and collecting Man of the Match. What a superstar. He’s quite a big deal. Rumour has it, he is getting bored of scoring 5+ goals a game. Anyone got a violin?

Finch Senior and Gamble each grabbed hat tricks, with Gamble casually assisting everything in sight. It’s tough when you are that good.

It was not entirely smooth sailing. Early in the third, TJ picked up his third major for committing the exact same foul. A Zach Finch special: the pull back in front of goal. Permanent exclusion. Thirteen minutes left. Seven players. Character building stuff. Even so, our superior fitness shone through. Yes, that cough you heard was sarcasm.

Late on, Matt Finch took a bump to the nose that appeared to wound him emotionally more than physically. In response, he missed three consecutive one on ones. Not one. Not two. Three. Anchorman levels of commitment to a bit.

Fluffer was unanimously awarded to TJ for the early shower. Naughty. Don’t do it again.

Moment of the Match, however, also went to TJ for the running bomb. It was silly, unnecessary, and exactly what the sport needs more of.

Afterwards, we fled the Aquatic Centre with urgency, dodging both West Ham fans and the looming threat of Surrey based Manchester United supporters. We made it home in comfort, enjoyed a well-earned pint at the station, and even found time for a spicy margarita on the train.

Afternoon delight indeed.

Two games. Two days. Two wins. The Narwhals have entered their Anchorman era.

I've been Gimli, son of Gloin. Stay classy Narwhals.