This was meant to be the moment of destiny, the weekend where an impossible dream came true. This was the time of the goblins.
With full orange war paint, the little fellas swarmed out onto the pitch and did Coach Itchen proud.
For a bit.
Sweeping aside another team of Goblins and then fighting to a close victory over some wood elves, Coach Itchen could feel it, the line was in sight, his Ians (for we all know every good goblin is named Ian) would soon be legend.
As match 2 ended the Goblins were NAF ranked 198.89, just shy of the mythical 200 and this is when nuffle stirred. Smiling warmly at Coach Itchen, Nuffle opened her arms and beckoned him in for a loving embrace. Entranced by those beautiful eyes and the comfort they promised, Itchen went to nuffle willingly, giving himself to her, knowing everything was going to be ok.
When the first delicately shaped boot made sharp contact with his testicles, Itchen was caught by surprise, by the time the 18th landed, he was curled up in a ball on the floor pleading to be kicked in the face instead.
Out on the pitch the goblins tried to carry on, but they were simply evapourating under the pressure. The blessed end came in style. 8 players on the pitch, all 8 stunned by a pitch invasion and the ball bounched off one of their unfortunate bodies for a touchback.
Had Coach Itchen been able to do more than clutch at his groin and whimper, he would have found this funny, but instead nuffle stood over him for one last stilletoed pirouette and she shrieked in delight as the very last chance of there ever being an Itchen Junior left
this world.