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Matchday 1 — vs Paris Saint-Glinglin

2-2 (L)

Erich Bey with an absolutely perfect sliding tackle, takes the ball right off the attacker's toes. Nothing given, play on! Transition play at its ruthless best, straight through the heart of the defence. Erich Raeder unleashes a HOWITZER on the cross from Rolf Carls! The ball rips the net, GOOOAL!

Tremendous work from Wilhelm Marschall who goes and wins the ball in the opposition half. The press is rewarded, recovery thirty yards from goal. Close-quarters dribble from Wilhelm Marschall, he finds space where there is none. Wilhelm Marschall picks up speed and FIIIRES with power! But it is also placed, the keeper can only watch. GOAL!

Dead defender. Wilhelm Marschall mimes a sniper taking aim at the travelling support, finger pulled like a trigger, cold as ice. Erich Raeder completes the choreography by collapsing. Winston Churchill arrives late, throws himself on the pile, sends a roar through the stands.

Hans-Georg von Friedeburg does not let up and steals the ball right from the defender's feet. Blistering transition, defence caught cold and carved wide open. Erich Raeder sets his side on fire, the opposing full-back is completely outpaced.

Hellmuth Heye tries one dribble too many and gets the ball pinched by the defender. The statesperson produces a perfect fingertip save and sends the ball for a corner! In that position, that kind of save is what makes the difference. On the corner from Wilhelm Marschall, Joseph Stalin wins the aerial duel but his header goes over.

It's hit the back of the net! Paris Saint-Glinglin lead and we look completely lost.

Solidarity move: Winston Churchill grabs Theodor Krancke who made the assist, drags him by the neck to the main stand. 'HIM! IT'S HIM!' The stadium gives Theodor Krancke a standing ovation right through to the restart.

Tactical debate in the corner. Erich Bey wants to push higher. Theodor Krancke reckons they will get done on the counter. The gaffer listens to both, arms folded, then makes the call: "We push up. Theodor Krancke, you cover. If they break, you are the last man. No arguments." The room goes quiet. Orders received. Scouts initially spotted Theodor Krancke not on a pitch but in a Greggs queue, where the 133-year-old demonstrated elite spatial awareness and patience beyond his years. At 180, the lad dominated the sausage roll section. And now, our TV game show The Weakest Biscuit! To win a potato peeler from Argos, text 1133 and answer this question: 'Which motorway service station was once nominated for a BAFTA?' The rain starts to fall as the players take their positions. Winston Churchill wipes {his} face and grins. Proper football weather. Time to get stuck in.

Winston Churchill opts for the short option to Karl Dönitz, keeping possession, building play, no panic. Inch-perfect tackle by Karl Dönitz, he's taken the ball cleanly and snuffed out the attack. Brilliant defending. They've turned defence into attack in one touch, that's vintage stuff. Through ball from the officer for Rolf Carls, the centre-halves are sliced apart like salami. In that position, that is the difference between good and elite. The military personnel reads the play and puts in a textbook challenge. That's the sort of awareness you need in that position, and he's delivered it perfectly.

Oh no, Paris Saint-Glinglin score a worldie! Fair play, but our hearts are sinking.

Knee slide from Winston Churchill right up to the edge of the stands, high-fives every fan in the front row one by one. Joseph Stalin does the same down the line. Winston Churchill turns up late and blows kisses to both ends at once. Pure magic.

Lovely use of the ball by Theodor Krancke, finding Erich Raeder in a tight pocket of space. Quality. Groans from the stands, this possession is going nowhere. Shot from the military personnel, wide! Not far from the woodwork though. In that role, full credit for trying, that was genuinely close.

Vertical press, the opposition has to go long and aimless. Lightning press from Rolf Carls, he pounces on the carrier and wins the ball in a heartbeat. That man's intensity is his secret weapon. Little shift from Rolf Carls to Erich Bey, the timing is spot on, the gap opens up.

Otto Schniewind whips the free kick into the box for Hellmuth Heye, dangerous delivery! Header from the officer, it flies wide! In that role, aerial ability matters and he was so close to scoring there. Stodgy, sluggish football, the entertainment has drained out of the game. Karl Dönitz launches it to Rolf Carls on the opposite wing. Raw, direct, and devastatingly effective.

Injury time, the suspense is unbearable, who will crack first? The officer plays it simple to Erich Bey, neat little ball into feet. Tidy. Intense pressing from the officer, he wins the ball in the opposition half. When you have that engine in that role, you suffocate any team.

Free kick played short by the naval officer! In that position, having the game intelligence to mix up your free kicks is what makes a team unpredictable. Cross from Hellmuth Heye, he puts it on the far post for Erich Raeder. Aerial claim from the statesperson, ball in the gloves. When your keeper comes out like that, you know you can defend high without fear.

Honours even. Theodor Krancke swaps shirts with one of the Paris Saint-Glinglin lads, tight smile. "See you again next week, yeah?" quips Rolf Carls, laughing. Everyone laughs. Inside, everyone knows this was three points we should've had. And here's the answer to The Weakest Biscuit! Maureen Crumble-Dispatch, from Scunthorpe, correctly answered the question, which was 'Which motorway service station was once nominated for a BAFTA?'. The answer was of course Watford Gap, for its outstanding performance in the category of Sustained Disappointment. Maureen wins this magnificent potato peeler from Argos! We leave you with tonight's feature presentation: 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, but all the questions are about council tax bands.' Phone a friend? He doesn't know either.

Matchday 2 — vs México No-Era-Penal

1-0 (W)

What a mess after Erich Raeder's corner! The keeper flaps, the ball drops, a defender scrambles it away! Rolf Carls was THERE, as always! On the badly cleared ball, he prods it in and signs his trademark. GOAL!

Karl Dönitz plays it into the channel for Erich Bey, the defensive line is split clean in two. That is pure filth. The officer strays just offside on Hans-Georg von Friedeburg's pass, the linesman raises his flag. Brutal. The match has gone to sleep, somebody needs to wake it up. The opposition defenders could grab a brew, nothing is happening.

The match has hit a real flat patch, no urgency whatsoever. Rolf Carls sends the game to the other side with a long pass to Otto Schniewind. Simple in concept, masterful in execution. Quick exchange between Otto Schniewind and Wilhelm Marschall, triangles all over the pitch, the opposition is chasing shadows.

Lovely corner from the military personnel but the header ends up wide. In that position, when you put the ball in the right area and it does not go in, the finishers need to look at themselves. The statesperson finds Hellmuth Heye with a pinpoint kick. The kind of keeper who starts as many attacks as he stops. Hellmuth Heye sprays the ball into no-man's land, the pass finds nobody. Wasteful stuff at this level. The military personnel wins the ball back high up after a ferocious press. That is exactly what you want from a player in that position: intensity and sacrifice. CRAAACKER from Otto Schniewind outside the box! On target, heading for the net but the keeper pushes wide!

Decisive interception from Joseph Stalin who cuts out the opposition's attempt to build from the back. The ball was meant for a striker on the run, but Joseph Stalin saw it all. The revolutionary shifts the point of attack with an inch-perfect crossfield pass to Rolf Carls. Pure quality, as per usual. The military personnel slides in with a perfect tackle and wins the ball. That's exactly the kind of intervention you want from someone in that position. The military personnel switches the play to Joseph Stalin, fifty-yard crossfield ball. That is his bread and butter. Clean lay-off from the revolutionary to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg into the gap. The bare minimum for a player of that calibre, but done with outrageous class.

The gaffer sits down, crosses his arms, and just watches the lads for a moment. Rolf Carls is chatting with Theodor Krancke about holiday plans. Someone is throwing grapes into someone else's mouth. The staff are relaxed, the players are relaxed. "Right, let us not get complacent," the boss finally says. "But well played. Seriously." Dressing room whispers confirm that Erich Raeder has an entire drawer at home dedicated to takeaway menus. Refuses to use apps. Says he likes 'the theatre of choosing from paper.' He's 150 and living in a beautiful analogue world. And now, our TV game show The Weakest Biscuit! To win a signed Greggs loyalty card, text 8989 and answer this question: 'Which day of the week weighs the most in Grimsby?' Back on the pitch and Rolf Carls is already barking orders at {his} teammates before the ball even rolls. The tone is set. This half means business.

Hellmuth Heye storms into the box and the defender UNBALANCES him! The referee awards a penalty! The player gets up, the stadium is SILENT, everyone is holding their breath. Hellmuth Heye sends the penalty into the sky! It's missed, he's absolutely crumbled.

Otto Schniewind anticipates the run from Erich Bey and fires a low missile in behind the defence. Perfect connection. The goal doesn't stand! Erich Bey strayed offside from Wilhelm Marschall's pass. Gutting for the attacking side! Endless VAR check here, players exchanging glances, managers pacing the technical area. The tension breaks — VAR confirms Otto Schniewind's goal! What a moment!

Corner from Rolf Carls into the danger area but a defender heads it away, dealt with. Massive diagonal from Otto Schniewind! Rolf Carls receives it on the opposite side, not a defender within ten yards.

The military personnel embarks on a solo run from his own half. In that position, a run like that is truly exceptional. Ball in behind from the military personnel, Hans-Georg von Friedeburg is through on goal. That is the kind of pass that justifies the price tag all on its own. Strike from Hans-Georg von Friedeburg that sails over the bar and into the stands! The keeper watched it fly past without moving. Bit of a snoozer this, not much happening at either end.

Counter is perfect until the last second when everything falls apart. Otto Schniewind absolutely butchers that pass, straight into the feet of the opposition. Enormous press from Karl Dönitz who wins the ball thirty yards from goal. The opponent buckled under the pressure.

Get in! Winston Churchill and Wilhelm Marschall do the customary shirt swap with a couple of México No-Era-Penal players — handshakes, mutual respect, the lot. Then Winston Churchill turns to the home end and cups his ears. The roar nearly takes the roof off. Pub's gonna be lively tonight. And here's the answer to The Weakest Biscuit! Pauline Drizzle-Hatch, from Barnsley, correctly answered the question, which was 'Which day of the week weighs the most in Grimsby?'. The answer was of course Thursday, at approximately 47 kilograms, mostly due to the accumulated dread of Friday. Pauline wins this magnificent signed Greggs loyalty card! And now, the show nobody asked for: 'Love Island: Wetherspoons Edition.' Twelve singles. One sticky carpet. Zero phone signal. Who will find love by last orders?

Matchday 3 — vs Casablanca Dima-Maghrib

2-1 (W)

Hellmuth Heye gets the better of the full-back with a burst of speed, he is unstoppable down that side. Chipped cross from Hellmuth Heye over the defensive wall, Theodor Krancke collects it behind the back line. GOOOOAL! Theodor Krancke flies like a bird on the cross from Wilhelm Marschall and powers his header into the bottom corner!

Lightning counter, but the finish is absolutely catastrophic. Turnover from Hellmuth Heye, the pass is read like a book by the opposition defence.

The revolutionary produces the tackle of the match, impeccable timing and technique. That ability to read the game defensively from that position is absolutely priceless. Lifesaving clearance from Joseph Stalin! The ball goes out for a throw but the danger is over, that is all that matters. Brilliant interception from Erich Raeder, he read the passer's intention before the ball even left his foot. The naval officer spots the run and threads a beauty in behind the defence for Otto Schniewind. That is exactly why he is out there. OHHH it's gone past by a whisker! Otto Schniewind strikes and the ball grazes the right-hand post.

Wilhelm Marschall puts in a surgical free kick to the back post, Karl Dönitz is there to finish. Enormous leap from the officer who wins the header. In that role, a player who wins his aerial duels like that is an insurance policy.

Three passes to go through and the last one is intercepted dumbly. Joseph Stalin attempts a through ball but it is cut out halfway. Far too obvious. Magnificent reading of the game from Wilhelm Marschall, he intercepts between the lines and launches the counter. That kind of action turns a match on its head. Wilhelm Marschall opens up to Erich Raeder on the opposite wing, the ball floats over the midfield. Magnificent.

Theodor Krancke starts a chant and within seconds the whole dressing room joins in. Boots stamping, hands clapping, proper old-school dressing room stuff. Wilhelm Marschall conducts like it is the Last Night of the Proms. The gaffer lets it go for thirty seconds then kills it: "Save the singing for the pub tonight. We have still got a job to do." Winston Churchill sparked a full dressing room meltdown by declaring custard creams superior to bourbons. At 152, the 180-tall midfielder stood firm while chaos erupted — the manager had to intervene with a tin of Foxes assortment. And now, our TV game show Homes Under the Hammer Price! To win a doorknob from a house that needed a lot of work, text 0800FIXER and answer: 'What does a lot of potential mean in estate agent language?' Here we go again. Forty-five minutes to settle this. Erich Raeder sprints to {his} position like a man on a mission. The crowd sense something is coming.

Hellmuth Heye lights the fuse with a cutting pass for Joseph Stalin down the channel. The defence is caught cold, it is over for them. Winston Churchill comes out like a missile and blocks the strike! The attacker thought he had a clear run, the keeper said NO. Winston Churchill plays out from the back with Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, short pass, controlled. The gaffer approves.

Big clearance from Karl Dönitz under pressure from the striker, the ball soars into the sky and drops at the halfway line. A real dead period, the ball's being passed around with no intent at all. The naval officer fouls the opponent to break up the attack. It's part of the job at that position, knowing when to take one for the team. Erich Raeder opts for the short pass to Theodor Krancke instead of shooting, catches everyone by surprise. Theodor Krancke lets fly but it shaves the woodwork, not far off!

The admiral sets up Erich Bey with a pull-back inside the eighteen. When you have got that footballing brain, you change matches. Golden chance wasted by the officer after the perfect service from Theodor Krancke. In that role, it is these moments that separate a good player from a great one. The game has stalled, both managers look frustrated on the touchline.

A sickening crunch as Hellmuth Heye catches the attacker full on the shin. The crowd gasps. We're in limbo now, the VAR room is checking the footage. Both benches on their feet. Hellmuth Heye wasn't fouled, VAR cancels the decision! The match is limping along, neither keeper has touched the ball in ages.

They've scored! Casablanca Dima-Maghrib break the deadlock and the momentum has completely shifted.

Joseph Stalin launches the ball into orbit, emergency clearance. No time to think, just get it out. The game's petered out completely, we're just waiting for someone to spark it. Shoulder charge from Theodor Krancke on the opponent, just a bit too forceful for the ref's liking.

Superb! Karl Dönitz jogs toward the tunnel but stops, turns around, and takes one last look at the pitch under the lights. Theodor Krancke waits for him at the door: "Beautiful, isn't it?" Karl Dönitz nods. They disappear inside. The muffled sound of celebration follows. Magic night. Pauline from Wakefield says a lot of potential means the roof is missing and there may be foxes living in the bathroom. Doorknob for Pauline! We hand you over now to the evening's main event: 'The Great British Bake Off, but in a caravan during a heatwave.' Soggy bottoms have a whole new meaning.

Matchday 4 — vs Dakar Teranga FC

2-3 (L)

Good delivery from Wilhelm Marschall off the left flank, Hans-Georg von Friedeburg positions himself between the two centre-halves. GOOOOOAL! Hans-Georg von Friedeburg sends in an INSANE bicycle kick! The cross from Otto Schniewind is inch-perfect, Hans-Georg von Friedeburg throws himself backwards, both feet in the air, and BOOM the ball is in! MASTERFUL!

Wilhelm Marschall fakes a cardiac arrest, collapses backwards, hands on his chest. Rolf Carls plays the medic running in. Winston Churchill plays the priest giving last rites. The stadium dies laughing. Three full minutes of circus before the ref can restart.

Handball, handball! The ref gives a penalty for Erich Bey's shot striking a defender's arm. Correct decision. The military personnel converts with class! In that position, not flinching on a penalty is what separates the good players from the DECISIVE ones. GOAL!

Erich Bey spots a kid in the crowd, locks eyes with him, tears off his shirt and hurls it over the barrier. The boy is sobbing. His mum is sobbing. The entire stand is sobbing. Winston Churchill gives him a pat on the back. Everyone grew up a bit tonight.

GOAL for Dakar Teranga FC! You can't defend like that and expect to get away with it.

Wilhelm Marschall plays the give-and-go with Hellmuth Heye, the combination is measured to the millimetre. The defensive block is pierced. Low pull-back from Wilhelm Marschall across the turf, Erich Bey controls and shoots in one movement. Erich Bey spreads it to Wilhelm Marschall, simple pass, clear intent. Playing it right. Textbook one-two between Wilhelm Marschall and Karl Dönitz. The ball goes, comes back, and the defence is beaten. Pure football. The admiral pulls it back along the ground for Hans-Georg von Friedeburg. The low cut-back is his trademark.

The statesperson goes long for Theodor Krancke, fifty yards of precision. In that position, the feet have become mandatory. Superb diagonal from the marineoffizier to Erich Raeder, the ball sails across the entire pitch. When you have got that wand of a foot, you use it. Dominant header from Erich Raeder on the corner, he outmuscles his marker and wins the aerial duel. The ground shakes. The naval officer boots it into the stands to clear the danger. In his position, that kind of clearance is not wasteful, it is survival intelligence. Clearance from the statesperson towards Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, the ball covers the entire pitch. In his position, it is not just about the saves, the distribution matters too.

The dressing room feels like a funeral parlour. Grey faces, hollow eyes, shoulders slumped. Joseph Stalin has not moved since sitting down. Karl Dönitz is muttering to {himself} in the corner. The gaffer lets the weight of the scoreline crush them for a full minute before speaking: "Are you done feeling sorry for yourselves? Good. Because I am not done with this match." Here's one that'll make you smile — Hans-Georg von Friedeburg spent three hundred quid at a Blackpool arcade trying to win a stuffed monkey from a claw machine. Didn't get it. Went back the next day with another fifty. Still didn't get it. He's 131 and absolutely committed. And now, our TV game show Strictly Come Complaining! To win a strongly-worded letter template, text 3789 and answer: 'What is the correct way to complain about a lukewarm cup of tea in a cafe?' The dressing rooms empty and the pitch fills up again. Winston Churchill does a few quick stretches on the touchline before jogging into position. Ready for war.

GOAL! Dakar Teranga FC strike! Their attacker has ghosted past everyone. Too easy.

The team is resisting with real discipline, no cracks in the shape. Heroic recovery from Karl Dönitz! Had ten yards to make up and still got back in time. Take a bow. Superb tackle from the officer, cleans up the danger without breaking a sweat. When you've got a player like that in the role, you sleep easy at night.

Mad pressing, the strikers chase defenders like wolves. Karl Dönitz wants to find Rolf Carls between the lines but the weight is all wrong. Intercepted. Karl Dönitz sees everything, understands everything, and intercepts at the perfect moment. That is the kind of player who makes a team unbeatable. They go from a standing start but the final touch is completely missing.

What a disaster! Dakar Teranga FC score and you could hear a pin drop in our end.

Rehearsed move all week: Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin stage a Wild West duel, back to back, ten paces, turn, fire. Winston Churchill plays the corpse in the middle. The stadium wants an encore, they do it twice more before the ref cuts it off.

Otto Schniewind delivers the corner and it's CHAOS in there! A defender hooks it off the line! OHHH Hellmuth Heye unleashes an absolute thunderbolt! On target but the keeper pulls off a stunner!

Erich Bey with a last-gasp tackle that saves the day! Gets everything on the ball and nothing on the man. Heroic stuff. Erich Bey launches the ball into the stratosphere, panicked clearance but effective. The centre-back has done his duty.

Crucial intervention from the revolutionary, wins the tackle cleanly and recycles possession. In that role, timing is everything, and his was spot on. Joseph Stalin decides to carry the danger all by himself, he devours the pitch with fierce determination. Joseph Stalin loses the ball on the dribble, too greedy in that situation. The officer positions himself in the passing lane and intercepts the ball. In that role, reading the game is the invisible weapon, and he has just pulled it out at the perfect moment.

Rolf Carls launches a forty-yard crossfield pass to Erich Bey, ambitious, clean, and it comes off beautifully. Erich Bey forces a pass to Erich Raeder who was not in position. Bad read, ball gone. That is a tackle of the highest order from Otto Schniewind. Slid in, won the ball, and came away with it. Fantastic. Otto Schniewind goes crossfield to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, the ball gains height, dips, and lands perfectly at the feet. Textbook. Inch-perfect cross from Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, the ball clips just over the keeper's hands and finds Joseph Stalin at the back post.

Winston Churchill goes straight to the bus without showering. Sits at the back, hood up, headphones in. Otto Schniewind takes the seat across the aisle but doesn't try to talk. The motorway lights flicker past the window. Sometimes silence is the only honest response. Gerald from Bath says you simply tut loudly, stir aggressively, and leave a passive-aggressive TripAdvisor review. The letter template is his! Coming up: 'Gogglebox, but the families are watching Gogglebox watching Gogglebox.' It's telly-ception. Nobody knows what's real anymore. The dog seems fine with it.

Matchday 5 — vs Douala Makossa-Corner

1-2 (L)

GOAL! Douala Makossa-Corner have scored! Oh no, the defence has been caught napping.

Otto Schniewind delivers into the box on the corner, it's a proper BATTLE in there! Defense holds firm! GOAL for Erich Raeder! The keeper parries it in front of him, the ball is loose, he just has to push it in. EASY GOAL but well placed!

Otto Schniewind points a finger to the sky — for someone up there. The stadium gets it, goes quiet for a beat. Erich Bey comes over, puts a hand on his shoulder, says nothing. Even the camera crew keeps its distance. Sacred moment.

They've scored! Douala Makossa-Corner find the back of the net. Absolute disaster at the back.

Winston Churchill mimes smashing a penalty into the top corner, arm raised in frozen follow-through. Erich Bey does the wave with contortionist grace. Winston Churchill solemnly applauds. The home end copies the movement in cadence.

Beautiful distribution from Winston Churchill to Erich Bey, a long kick that looks like it came from a midfielder. Erich Bey slips Rolf Carls in with a cute little pass through the gap. Clever. Rolf Carls plays the simple ball to Hellmuth Heye, nothing fancy but dead effective. Football does not have to be complicated.

The officer presses high and forces the defender into an error. In that position, the ability to recover the ball that high up changes the entire complexion of a match. Brilliant pass from Hellmuth Heye! The ball cuts through the defence like a hot knife through butter and Erich Bey is onto it. Pass into no-man's land from Erich Bey, nobody on the end of it, the ball rolls straight to the opposition. Gift. Rolf Carls intercepts in the opposition half, he read the play three seconds before anyone else. That is defensive caviar. Rolf Carls thumps the danger clear with a powerful boot, the ball sails the length of the pitch. The crowd roars, that is a soldier's work.

Tea cups everywhere. The gaffer has launched the lot. There is PG Tips running down the wall and broken ceramic on the floor. "That," he says, pointing at the mess, "is what our defensive shape looks like right now. An absolute disaster." Rolf Carls stares at the carnage. Erich Bey swallows hard. Nobody disagrees. Brilliant little nugget — Rolf Carls has a recurring dream where he's stuck in a Harvester salad bar that never ends. He told the club psychologist, who apparently just said 'that's very normal for a man your height.' He's 180, for the record. And now, our TV game show The Weakest Biscuit! To win a signed Greggs loyalty card, text 5050 and answer this question: 'How many sugars does the Queen's corgi take in its tea?' Wilhelm Marschall spits on {his} palms, old school, and rubs them together. Boots in the turf, eyes on the prize. The whistle goes. Game on.

Winston Churchill catapults the ball towards Wilhelm Marschall from the six-yard box, thirty yards in the air. What a boot. Wilhelm Marschall tries to open it up for Theodor Krancke but the timing is miles off. Possession lost. Quick break, the counter is executed with surgical precision. Wilhelm Marschall threads the needle between the two centre-backs, Karl Dönitz bursts through the back and he is clean through. Massive.

Short distribution from Winston Churchill to Rolf Carls, circulating at the back, the press is beaten. Rolf Carls finds Karl Dönitz between the lines, short pass, right foot, perfect first touch. Karl Dönitz sets it for Erich Raeder, good reading of the game, the ball is circulating. Erich Raeder clatters into the opponent, a fraction late on the challenge. Free kick. Erich Raeder delivers an inswinging free kick, Rolf Carls at the back post tries to get on the end of it.

Instinctive clearance from Erich Bey who pokes the ball away with his toe. It was going wrong but he has saved the day. Quiet as a library out there, no tempo, no edge, no quality. Otto Schniewind slides in but gets the man before the ball. Free kick, no complaints. Free kick played short by Otto Schniewind and Karl Dönitz, the opposition did not see that one coming. The officer lets fly and it's wide. Flirted with the frame though. In that position, with a tiny bit more precision that's going in.

The revolutionary reads the play and puts in a textbook challenge. That's the sort of awareness you need in that position, and he's delivered it perfectly. The revolutionary launches the ball skyward under pressure from the attacker. It is not glamorous, but in that position it is exactly that kind of action that prevents disasters. Winston Churchill finds Hans-Georg von Friedeburg with a long kick, the ball sails over the midfield and lands right on the money. Diagonal from Hans-Georg von Friedeburg to Joseph Stalin, surgical stuff, the ball cuts out six opponents in one go.

The corner from Otto Schniewind is snuffed out by the defence, a defender clears at the near post. Karl Dönitz clears in a panic off his weaker foot, it is not clean but it is out. The important thing is the ball is miles away. We're in the doldrums, both sides seem content to knock it about at the back.

Winston Churchill fires it out quickly by hand to Otto Schniewind, the opposition defence is not set yet. Smart. Otto Schniewind looks up and launches a long pass towards Theodor Krancke. The ball traces a perfect arc across the sky. Rapid combination: Theodor Krancke to Joseph Stalin, the ball barely touches the grass between them.

Erich Bey climbs above everyone on the corner from Erich Raeder but his header is too wide. Massive punt from Winston Churchill, sends the ball sixty yards, Wilhelm Marschall is scrapping for it up top. The admiral rises above everyone and wins the header. In that position, aerial dominance is what separates the good from the great.

Full time. Hans-Georg von Friedeburg applauds the home fans with genuine gratitude — they never booed, not once. Joseph Stalin joins the clap. A few supporters lean over and say encouraging things. "Keep going, lads." It helps, a bit. The walk to the tunnel is the longest forty yards in football. And here's the answer to The Weakest Biscuit! Doreen from Doncaster, from Barnsley, correctly answered the question, which was 'How many sugars does the Queen's corgi take in its tea?'. The answer was of course seven and a half, but only on formal occasions. Doreen wins this magnificent signed Greggs loyalty card! Don't touch that remote! Up next: 'Antiques Roadshow: Nan's Attic — is that vase worth thousands or did she nick it from a Toby Carvery in 1987?'

Matchday 6 — vs Lagos No-Carry-Last

2-3 (L)

Blistering counter but the final touch is sorely lacking in quality. Powerful run from Otto Schniewind, he shrugs off challenges and carries the ball up the pitch. Oh the TOUCH from Otto Schniewind! SUBLIME lob! The keeper is ten yards off his line, Otto Schniewind spots it, chips the ball and it drops right into the goal. MASTERPIECE!

Otto Schniewind kisses the club badge with theatrical slowness, eyes locked on the directors' box. Erich Raeder takes a knee behind him. Winston Churchill raises both fists to the sky from the other end of the pitch. Statue moment.

That's a beauty from Joseph Stalin! Slides across the turf and takes the ball off the attacker's boot. Clinical defending. They're away in transition, pace to burn, it's like watching a freight train. GOAL from Otto Schniewind! A lob of outrageous DELICACY! The keeper came out, Otto Schniewind spotted it and dinked it over him. That is GENIUS, all finesse!

Firm pass from Wilhelm Marschall into Erich Raeder, right into the boots. No waste. Erich Raeder drops it into space for Joseph Stalin, the kind of pass that looks simple but requires a reading of the game that is way above average. Joseph Stalin is ruled offside on Theodor Krancke's ball over the top, but that's incredibly harsh! The crowd is getting restless, VAR is taking forever. What a nerve-wracking wait. VAR denies the officer! At that position, a ruled-out goal can knock the stuffing out of a player for the rest of the match.

They're going for broke, nothing can stop them now. Good cross from the admiral for Rolf Carls in the area. The bare minimum for a wide player, but done with surgical quality. Poor cross from Rolf Carls, the ball sails three yards over the head of Karl Dönitz. Wasteful. Massive clearance from Rolf Carls, just get the ball as far away as possible.

We're watching paint dry, this has become a real war of attrition. Foul by Rolf Carls on the opponent, clips him from behind. Free kick. The referee has lost patience, yellow card for Rolf Carls. Foul after foul after foul. Free kick from Rolf Carls... into the wall. The wall didn't flinch. Winston Churchill hoofs it forward towards Joseph Stalin, clearance mode, no time to mess about.

The boss slams the door shut and leans against it. Nobody leaves until he says so. "Look at your faces. You are beaten already and there are still forty-five minutes on the clock. Winston Churchill, lift your head up. Rolf Carls, stop sulking. We are footballers, not victims. Now act like it." Staff at IKEA Wembley confirm Theodor Krancke spent five hours in the showroom and left with nothing but a bag of tea lights and a hot dog. The 133-year-old reportedly got lost in the warehouse section twice. And now, our TV game show Only Fools and Quizzes! To win a genuine Reliant Robin air freshener, text 3678 and answer: 'In which year did Del Boy last say this time next year we will be millionaires and actually mean it?' The dressing rooms empty and the pitch fills up again. Erich Raeder does a few quick stretches on the touchline before jogging into position. Ready for war.

It's there! Lagos No-Carry-Last tap it in from close range. Where was the marking?

Winston Churchill places the ball on the centre spot, stands on top of it, arms in a V like a pharaoh on his throne. Hellmuth Heye falls to his knees bowing. Winston Churchill does a slow sarcastic clap. The home end loves this magnificent arrogance.

The admiral devours the pitch on his own. That kind of surging run from that position can change the course of a match. Wilhelm Marschall releases Joseph Stalin with a ball into space on the left. The defence is sliding across but they are too late. Marginal offside called on Joseph Stalin, Erich Raeder's through ball cut the defence open perfectly. Short restart from the statesperson to Wilhelm Marschall, building out from the back. The modern keeper is basically an eleventh outfield player.

Oh that's poor! Lagos No-Carry-Last score from a set piece. We switched off completely.

Winston Churchill stands alone, hands on hips, calm, proud, stares at the stand for a long second before tapping his heart three times. Two seconds of respectful silence, then a deafening roar. Otto Schniewind comes over and hugs him without a word.

Joseph Stalin goes straight through the attacker with a wild sliding challenge. Bodies everywhere. The referee's been called over to the monitor. Nobody knows which way this is going. The referee changes his mind after VAR! Penalty overturned on Joseph Stalin! A proper quiet spell, the crowd has gone eerily silent.

The free kick from Erich Raeder is sent to the near post, Otto Schniewind rushes in to meet it. Aerial duel lost by Otto Schniewind, he is beaten to the punch by the attacker. The ball flies over his head. OHHH Winston Churchill pulls off an OUTRAGEOUS save! That shot was heading top bins but the keeper got across!

Rolf Carls chops the opponent down at the halfway line. Stops the counter. The military personnel sees his free kick stopped by the wall! In that position, the wall is a CLASSIC obstacle, you have to keep trying. Totally wasted corner from Erich Raeder, the ball ends up miles from the box, shameful.

It's there! Lagos No-Carry-Last hit the back of the net. Our goalkeeper was rooted to the spot.

Winston Churchill and Karl Dönitz do a rehearsed hand-kiss bit to the camera. Perfect sync. Winston Churchill arrives behind, misses his cue, flubs the whole thing. Even funnier. The crowd won't stop clapping.

Short build-up from Erich Raeder to Rolf Carls, playing out from the back, keeping it safe. The military personnel opens up to Erich Raeder on the far side. That is exactly the kind of pass he is paid to deliver. Erich Raeder crosses from the left side, the ball hangs in the area, Otto Schniewind is in the right place. The cross from the military personnel ends up in the keeper's gloves. It happens to the best, but it is frustrating in that position.

A loss that will linger. Joseph Stalin drives home alone, the radio off, the replay running in his head on repeat. Rolf Carls texts him at midnight: "Chin up. We're still in this." Three dots appear. Disappear. Then: "Yeah. I know." Short texts, big feelings. Terry from Peckham says Del Boy has never once meant it and that's the beauty of it all. Enjoy the Reliant Robin air freshener, Terry! Stay tuned for: 'Grand Designs — Kevin McCloud watches a man build a shed that costs more than your house.' He will be over budget. He will cry. Kevin will narrate.

Matchday 7 — vs Barranquilla Toque-Toque

1-2 (L)

Pinpoint delivery from the naval officer towards Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, the ball lands on a sixpence. In that position, crosses are half the job. GOAL from the military personnel with a scissor kick! In that position, that kind of acrobatic goal is what makes people REMEMBER you. Perfect overhead, top corner, standing ovation. MASTERFUL!

Rehearsed move all week: Erich Raeder and Erich Bey stage a Wild West duel, back to back, ten paces, turn, fire. Winston Churchill plays the corpse in the middle. The stadium wants an encore, they do it twice more before the ref cuts it off.

And there it is, Barranquilla Toque-Toque score! The writing was on the wall after that pressure.

Winston Churchill points a finger to the sky — for someone up there. The stadium gets it, goes quiet for a beat. Otto Schniewind comes over, puts a hand on his shoulder, says nothing. Even the camera crew keeps its distance. Sacred moment.

Erich Bey tugs the shirt of the opponent, referee spots it straight away. Free kick. Erich Bey is cautioned for dissent. The referee's patience finally ran out. The officer dummies the shot and plays it short. In that position, that ability to read the defence and pick the right option is what separates the great players. Wide from the military personnel! The ball licks the post. In that role, that shooting ability is a real asset, the next one's going in.

They've nicked a goal! Barranquilla Toque-Toque catch us cold on the break.

Winston Churchill kisses the club badge with theatrical slowness, eyes locked on the directors' box. Wilhelm Marschall takes a knee behind him. Winston Churchill raises both fists to the sky from the other end of the pitch. Statue moment.

Brilliant tackle from Theodor Krancke! Slides in, wins the ball, and comes away clean. That is textbook defending. Counter perfect until the last yard when everything goes haywire. Hellmuth Heye picks his spot and SHOOTS! Wide of the near post, genuinely not far off. A proper lull, the players seem to be going through the motions. A team possessed now, everything is clicking into place.

Erich Raeder cannot even look at {his} teammates. {he} knows the mistake was {his}. The gaffer knows it too but does not single {him} out. Instead he addresses the room: "We win as a team, we lose as a team. Right now we are losing. So what are we going to do about it? Sit here and sulk, or go out there and fight?" Winston Churchill once set off three smoke alarms trying to make beans on toast. Fire services arrived to find the 152-year-old fanning a tea towel at a cremated Warburtons loaf — an absolute state. And now, our TV game show Who Wants to Win a Kebab! To win a Wetherspoons voucher for 47p, text 4321 and answer this question: 'What is the speed limit for a shopping trolley on the M25?' Second half underway and Otto Schniewind is straight into it, pressing high from the first whistle. No easing into this one. Straight for the jugular.

Massive clearance from the officer under pressure. It is the basics of the role: when it gets hot, you send the ball as far away as possible. Long ball from Winston Churchill for Rolf Carls who takes it down on the chest. Fifty yards of pinpoint accuracy. Aerial duel won by Rolf Carls in his own box. He took the lift to the top floor and cleaned up everything. Rolf Carls accelerates and takes the channel, the defender is left behind in two strides.

Short pass from the revolutionary to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, no frills, just efficiency. The bare minimum for someone at this level. The military personnel winds up and fires, wide but close. In that position, keep pulling the trigger, the goal is coming. This has turned into a real scrap, with no invention and no drive. Erich Raeder drops a lofted ball to Rolf Carls, it sails over the entire midfield line.

Wasteful from Rolf Carls on that pass, the ball does not arrive. Joseph Stalin throws his arms up in frustration. WHAT A FOOT SAVE from Winston Churchill! The opponent was clean through but the keeper got a leg in there! Rolf Carls clears the danger with a massive hack, the ball flies into the distance. No time for pretty football.

Lovely transition but the shot is like he was scared of the goal. Telepathic pass from Erich Bey to Otto Schniewind, like they rehearsed it at breakfast. The ball fizzes in behind the defence. Otto Schniewind controls and SHOOTS! On target but the keeper dives and gets a hand to it. Corner. The corner from the military personnel is cleared with ease. In that position, when the defence keeps heading it away, it is time to change the game plan on corners.

The free kick from Wilhelm Marschall is superb, it picks out Joseph Stalin unmarked in the box. Joseph Stalin crushes it in the air, he wins the header with incredible power. The opponent was left flat-footed. The revolutionary roasts the full-back on the wing. That kind of acceleration in that role creates overloads and turns matches on their head. Free kick conceded by Joseph Stalin, a nibble at the opponent's heels. Enough to bring him down. The free kick from Joseph Stalin is played short, Rolf Carls receives and goes immediately.

Raking ball from the marineoffizier to Hellmuth Heye, surgical precision. In that position, vision is half the job. BLOCKED! Hellmuth Heye hits it hard but the defender stands firm and deflects it for a corner.

The ball carrier has no time, three shirts on him instantly. Fantastic high recovery from Wilhelm Marschall, he sprinted twenty yards to go and rip the ball away. The effort is immense. Wilhelm Marschall keeps it short to Theodor Krancke, no frills, just good football intelligence.

Lost it. Karl Dönitz kicks a water bottle across the dressing room. Nobody flinches — they've all been there. Joseph Stalin hands him a towel without a word. The gaffer waits for the anger to pass before speaking. "Right. Let's talk about what we do next." And here's the answer to Who Wants to Win a Kebab! Maureen Crumble-Dispatch, from Scunthorpe, correctly answered the question, which was 'What is the speed limit for a shopping trolley on the M25?'. The answer was of course 12 mph, though nobody has ever managed more than 3. Maureen wins this magnificent Wetherspoons voucher for 47p! Buckle up for: 'The Apprentice, but Lord Sugar sends them all to run a village fete in Dorset.' One team runs out of tombola tickets. The other buys 400 scones. You're fired. All of you.

Matchday 8 — vs Montevideo Garra-Charrúa

1-2 (L)

Quick one-two between Rolf Carls and Wilhelm Marschall, clean as you like, they are moving forward. What a BOOOOOM from Wilhelm Marschall! The ball flies like a 30-yard projectile and ends in the top corner. GOAL!

The statesperson throws it out to Hellmuth Heye, quick and clever. When your last line of defence plays this well with his feet, it changes everything. Hellmuth Heye picks out Joseph Stalin with a short pass along the deck, the ball glides across the surface like it is on ice. Step-over from Joseph Stalin, he ghosts past his man in one move!

The wall from Hans-Georg von Friedeburg is perfect for Karl Dönitz who collects at full speed. Two passes, one defender eliminated. That is football. Karl Dönitz hits turbo and flies down the wing, the defender is left in the dust. Failed dribble from Karl Dönitz, he tried to do too much and the defender capitalises. Theodor Krancke with a perfectly weighted challenge, takes the ball and launches the counter-attack. Two jobs in one! Panicked clearance from Theodor Krancke, the ball goes out for a corner but the attacker does not score. Job done.

Lightning recovery and attack, they're running riot on the break. Hans-Georg von Friedeburg tries the curler... it bends beautifully but slides just past the post. AGONISING. Winston Churchill takes his time and plays it short to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg. The press is on but the keeper does not flinch.

Rapid break, the defenders are still trying to find their marks. POST for the military personnel! In that position, a strike like that is pure gold, but the woodwork said no. Cruel. Monster clearance from Winston Churchill, the ball reaches the stratosphere before coming back down to Wilhelm Marschall.

The gaffer flips the tactics board clean off the wall. Magnets scatter across the floor like shrapnel. "Can somebody, ANYBODY, explain to me what I have just watched for forty-five minutes?!" Nobody answers. Karl Dönitz pulls {his} shirt over {his} face. The hairdryer treatment has well and truly arrived. Remarkable little detail about Otto Schniewind — he spent every childhood summer in a static caravan in Blackpool. Still goes back every year, eats a stick of rock on the pier, and insists it resets his chakras. The man is 139 and living his best life. And now, our TV game show Deal or No Meal Deal! To win a slightly dented tin of beans, text 3344 and answer this question: 'How many episodes of Bargain Hunt equal one real emotion?' The floodlights feel brighter for the second half. Theodor Krancke squints up at them, takes a deep breath, and takes {his} position. Forty-five minutes. Everything to play for.

Completely sterile passage of play, neither side wants to take the initiative. The opponent is bundled over by Erich Raeder. Not much in it, but the whistle goes. Erich Raeder rolls the free kick along the ground to Theodor Krancke, it is the short routine.

Winston Churchill distributes short to Wilhelm Marschall, no risk, no frills. The ball moves, the team breathes. Wilhelm Marschall pings a ridiculous diagonal to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg. The ball crosses the pitch in three seconds flat. Right-footed cross from Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, the ball bends beautifully into the box and seeks out Karl Dönitz.

They've scored again! Montevideo Garra-Charrúa are running riot and we can't cope.

Both teams are treading water here, it's turgid fare. The referee spots the foul by Erich Bey, a push in the back on the opponent. Yellow card. Erich Bey has been fouling all half, the referee finally acts. Free kick blocked for the officer! In that position, when the wall stands firm, it's ROUTINE in football, you have to keep the faith.

GOAAAL for Montevideo Garra-Charrúa! What a howler at the back, that's been gifted to them.

Tepid stuff, the ball just keeps going back to the keeper. Erich Bey triggers a change of flanks for Theodor Krancke, the ball rockets across the pitch above the heads. The marineoffizier finds Joseph Stalin along the ground, clean and tidy. That kind of pass looks easy but it takes a reading of the game that is way above average.

Lovely counter move but the pass is too heavy, runs straight through to the keeper. The officer cuts open the lines with an inch-perfect pass for Otto Schniewind. When you have got that kind of vision, you change a game in a heartbeat. Otto Schniewind caught offside by a shoulder width on Hans-Georg von Friedeburg's through ball, what a shame!

Defeat. Erich Raeder sits on the pitch long after the whistle, knees pulled up, replaying every mistake in his head. Erich Bey comes back out from the tunnel to get him: "Come on, mate. Can't stay here all night." The groundsman's already got the sprinklers going. And here's the answer to Deal or No Meal Deal! Shirley Bungalow-Throttle, from Milton Keynes, correctly answered the question, which was 'How many episodes of Bargain Hunt equal one real emotion?'. The answer was of course 347, though episode 212 did feature a man who nearly smiled at a vase. Shirley wins this magnificent slightly dented tin of beans! Buckle up for: 'The Apprentice, but Lord Sugar sends them all to run a village fete in Dorset.' One team runs out of tombola tickets. The other buys 400 scones. You're fired. All of you.

Matchday 9 — vs Buenos Aires Pecho Frío

1-0 (W)

Counter from their own goal, and all that just to butcher the cross. The military personnel finds the gap that nobody else saw and puts Hans-Georg von Friedeburg clean through. Pure genius from that position. BOOOM the military personnel pops up and prods it in! In that position, that nose for goal cannot be taught, it is in the genes. GOAL!

Winston Churchill sprints the full length of the pitch from his six-yard box to join the pile-up. The bundle forms on Rolf Carls, you can't see him under the pile, just studs sticking out. All four subs have invaded the pitch. The ref has given up blowing his whistle.

Lovely quick counter but the final shot just whistles past the outside of the post. The military personnel misplaces his pass to Wilhelm Marschall, the ball goes nowhere. Not his finest moment.

Wilhelm Marschall gives it to Otto Schniewind into feet, it is bread and butter but done with surgical precision. The military personnel beats the defender with a sharp turn. It is rare to see a player in that position with that kind of pure skill. Otto Schniewind tries a shimmy but slips on the ball. Turnover in a bad area. Enormous anticipation from Otto Schniewind who intercepts and kills the opposition attack stone dead. The pressing has paid off. Authoritative clearance from Otto Schniewind in the box, he put everything behind it and the ball has gone sixty yards.

Erich Bey with a trademark slide tackle, gets the ball and pops straight back up. The fans are on their feet! The officer finds the gap that nobody else saw and puts Hans-Georg von Friedeburg clean through. Pure genius from that position. Offside against Hans-Georg von Friedeburg! But that is so tight it's almost criminal! Otto Schniewind is beside himself.

Hellmuth Heye spots Otto Schniewind in acres of space on the far side and sends a sixty-yard pass. Maximum awareness. Otto Schniewind tries a crossfield ball to Rolf Carls but it is miles too long, the ball sails out. Nothing to salvage. Lovely anticipation from the marineoffizier who cuts out the opposition pass. In his position, that kind of interception is worth as much as a goal. Brilliant switch of play from Theodor Krancke! The ball covers the entire width of the pitch to land in front of Wilhelm Marschall.

The physio announces the GPS stats: "Rolf Carls has covered seven kilometres already." Karl Dönitz shouts: "That is because {he} has been chasing their winger all half!" Rolf Carls fires back: "At least I caught him, unlike you last week." Laughter all round. The gaffer taps the board. "Focus, lads. Same energy second half." Theodor Krancke has developed a full-blown B&Q addiction, spending every Sunday morning browsing power tools with absolutely no DIY ability. At 133, the lad owns fourteen drills and has never put up a shelf. And now, our TV game show Come Dine With Regret! To win a microwave meal for two from M&S food hall, text 0800PING and answer: 'What is the fanciest thing you can make using only items from the reduced aisle?' The floodlights feel brighter for the second half. Joseph Stalin squints up at them, takes a deep breath, and takes {his} position. Forty-five minutes. Everything to play for.

Sterile football, looks like a testimonial out there. Shot miles off from the officer, flies into the stands. In that role, these things happen, just needs to find the range next time. Flat atmosphere, flat game, everyone looks half asleep.

Oh what a challenge! Theodor Krancke goes to ground, wins the ball, and is up on his feet in a flash. Top drawer. Theodor Krancke catches everyone off guard with a solo burst, he is unstoppable. Ball loss from the marineoffizier on a dribble. In that role, taking risks is fine, but the timing has to be spot on. Erich Raeder steals the ball in the passing lanes, that is pure reading of the game, intelligent football at its finest.

Hellmuth Heye strings together a double stepover and leaves the defender for dead. Sublime skill. Hellmuth Heye bursts into the box and is SCYTHED down by the defender! Penalty! The referee is categorical. The whole bench is on its FEET, the atmosphere is ELECTRIC! Penalty saved on the officer! In that position, when the keeper reads you, it's DEVASTATING, but character makes the difference. Clearance from Karl Dönitz under pressure, the ball flies into touch on the far side. It is not in the coaching manual but it works.

The marineoffizier reads the play and puts in a textbook challenge. That's the sort of awareness you need in that position, and he's delivered it perfectly. Theodor Krancke plays it simple to Otto Schniewind, neat little ball into feet. Tidy. The game is crying out for a moment of magic, nothing's happening. They're monopolizing the ball but it's all hot air, nothing in the box.

Winston Churchill sparks the transition with a quick throw to Hellmuth Heye, the break is lightning fast. The officer switches the play to Rolf Carls, fifty-yard crossfield ball. That is his bread and butter. Good ball from the military personnel to Karl Dönitz, playing it quick between the lines. That is what he does.

Massive win over Buenos Aires Pecho Frío! Otto Schniewind is the last man off the pitch, soaking in every last decibel. The ground's half-empty but the noise is still deafening. Winston Churchill pops his head out of the tunnel: "Oi, the pizza's getting cold!" Priorities. Tracey from Stockport says a prawn cocktail made entirely from items reduced to ten pence. M&S meal for Tracey! And now: 'Cash in the Attic, but the attic is a storage unit in Croydon and everything in it is slightly damp.' Emotional valuations guaranteed.

Matchday 10 — vs Rio Malandro FC

1-3 (L)

Rolf Carls is knocked off balance in the box by the defender. The referee looks, blows and points to the SPOT. PENALTY! The tension is thick enough to cut with a KNIFE! CRACK! Rolf Carls's penalty smashes the post! The footballing gods are not on his side! Wilhelm Marschall arrives at full pelt and prods the ball in at point-blank range! On the delivery from Erich Raeder, it is in, GOAL!

Rolf Carls climbs onto Wilhelm Marschall's shoulders, arms spread, like a living statue in the centre circle. Winston Churchill circles round them pretending to take photos with an imaginary phone. The Kop chants 'Champions' at full volume.

The rhythm has gone entirely, this is attritional stuff with no cutting edge. Surface-level dominance, not one incisive moment. Shifting pass from Theodor Krancke to Wilhelm Marschall, the ball drifts into the free zone and Wilhelm Marschall is onto it in two strides.

Joseph Stalin shifts it to Hellmuth Heye with a short pass, threading it between two defenders. Nothing to get the blood pumping, this has turned into a possession drill. The military personnel switches the play to Otto Schniewind, fifty-yard crossfield ball. That is his bread and butter.

Hellmuth Heye rolls it to Joseph Stalin, the ball hugs the turf, not a bobble, not a hesitation. Change of flanks from Joseph Stalin, the ball sails across the entire pitch to find Erich Raeder. Magnificent tackle from Erich Raeder! Sweeps the ball away from the attacker just as he was about to pull the trigger. Erich Raeder picks it up and goes coast to coast like a man possessed. Nobody is stopping him.

What a chance squandered, the counter was perfect until the last ball. Error from the revolutionary, the pass is too soft and the opponent intercepts. Happens to the best of them. Ferocious press from Erich Bey! He sticks to the carrier, hounds him, and ends up winning the ball. The dirty work that makes great players.

The boss slams the door shut and leans against it. Nobody leaves until he says so. "Look at your faces. You are beaten already and there are still forty-five minutes on the clock. Theodor Krancke, lift your head up. Joseph Stalin, stop sulking. We are footballers, not victims. Now act like it." A bitter feud erupted between Karl Dönitz and a neighbour over wheelie bin placement. At 135, the 180-tall footballer reportedly moved the green bin three inches to the left — the council got involved. And now, our TV game show Deal or No Meal Deal! To win a signed Greggs loyalty card, text 3141 and answer this question: 'What noise does a disappointed scone make?' And we are back underway! Karl Dönitz jogs to the centre circle, jaw set, eyes locked on the opposition. Second half, let us have it.

The military personnel is beaten in the air, the attacker got higher. Losing an aerial duel like that in his position puts the whole team in danger. Winston Churchill fails to control it and the leather slips from his gloves! Scramble in the box, scary stuff. Emergency clearance from the military personnel, the ball travels fifty yards. In that role, knowing when to clear is just as important as knowing when to play.

Unbelievable! Rio Malandro FC score from nowhere. Their striker just smashed it in.

Theodor Krancke throws himself into the passing lane and comes away with the ball. Phenomenal reading of the game. Superb diagonal from the marineoffizier to Wilhelm Marschall, the ball sails across the entire pitch. When you have got that wand of a foot, you use it. Wilhelm Marschall is beaten in the air by his opponent, he could not compete. The statesperson produces a monster save! In that position, a save like that is worth a goal. He is the last line and he has held firm.

And that's a goal! Rio Malandro FC extend their lead. We are in deep trouble here.

Winston Churchill stands alone, hands on hips, calm, proud, stares at the stand for a long second before tapping his heart three times. Two seconds of respectful silence, then a deafening roar. Otto Schniewind comes over and hugs him without a word.

Sideways ball from Erich Raeder to Rolf Carls, switching the point of attack, stretching the block. The military personnel spots the run and threads a beauty in behind the defence for Hans-Georg von Friedeburg. That is exactly why he is out there. Acceleration from Hans-Georg von Friedeburg down the side, he takes the space behind the full-back. It is a motorway.

Absolutely dreadful! Rio Malandro FC score and we have only ourselves to blame.

Winston Churchill sprints to the corner flag and poses alongside it, arm around it like an old mate. Wilhelm Marschall snaps the moment with an imaginary camera. Winston Churchill waits at the centre circle tapping his foot: 'ARE YOU LOT COMING OR WHAT?!' The chant kicks off.

Lovely quick transition, but the final decision-making is terrible. WHAT A SHAME for Erich Raeder! Thunderous strike that flashes just past the upright. Winston Churchill sends an absolute rocket towards Otto Schniewind, almighty clearance, the ball covers half the pitch. The military personnel lays it off first time to Joseph Stalin, fluid stuff, exactly what you expect from a player of that calibre.

The revolutionary hacks it clear in a panic, the ball goes into touch. In that position, sometimes you do not look for the pass, you just clear it, and that is exactly what he did. Theodor Krancke sends an aerial beauty to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, the ball cuts across the pitch like a guided missile.

A loss that will linger. Erich Bey drives home alone, the radio off, the replay running in his head on repeat. Theodor Krancke texts him at midnight: "Chin up. We're still in this." Three dots appear. Disappear. Then: "Yeah. I know." Short texts, big feelings. And here's the answer to Deal or No Meal Deal! Colin Flannel-Trousers, from Grimsby, correctly answered the question, which was 'What noise does a disappointed scone make?'. The answer was of course a sort of moist sigh, like a librarian who has lost her bookmark. Colin wins this magnificent signed Greggs loyalty card! Next on your screen: 'The Repair Shop, but it's just a bloke trying to fix the office printer.' He will fail. He will call IT. IT will tell him to turn it off and on again. Art.

Matchday 11 — vs Istanbul Cehennem FK

1-1 (L)

The naval officer sets off on a solo raid from deep. When a player in that position triggers a run like that, the opposition defence does not know what hit them. Erich Raeder is CUT DOWN in the box by the defender! Penalty! The referee is sure of himself, he points to the spot. The moment is VITAL, nobody is breathing in the ground! GOOOOAL! Erich Raeder converts the penalty, the keeper goes the wrong way. Ice cold.

Clearance from the statesperson towards Hellmuth Heye, the ball covers the entire pitch. In his position, it is not just about the saves, the distribution matters too. Hellmuth Heye changes the point of attack with a raking pass to Erich Bey. The defence is caught completely flat-footed. Erich Bey takes off and beats everyone to the header. Nobody can compete with him in the air.

They push up as a unit, the opposition can't string two passes together. Erich Raeder presses high and picks off the sloppy pass from the defender. When you bring that intensity, the opposition errors come thick and fast. Erich Raeder slides a beauty through the gap, Erich Bey is away, the timing is absolutely spot on. Erich Bey winds up the right foot and LEEEEETS FLY! On target, heading top bins but the keeper claws it out!

The one-two between Joseph Stalin and Wilhelm Marschall blows the defensive block apart. Give, run, return, done. Clinical. The revolutionary accelerates and flies down the channel. On that flank, a player with that speed changes everything. Joseph Stalin gets tackled cleanly by the defender mid-dribble. Possession lost. The revolutionary slides in with a perfect tackle and wins the ball. That's exactly the kind of intervention you want from someone in that position. Emergency clearance from the revolutionary, the ball travels fifty yards. In that role, knowing when to clear is just as important as knowing when to play.

Clinical interception from Theodor Krancke, he cuts out the pass between the opposition lines and breaks forward on the counter. The crowd loves it, and rightly so. The marineoffizier opens up to Karl Dönitz on the far side. That is exactly the kind of pass he is paid to deliver. Karl Dönitz wins it in the air with terrifying ease. The opponent just got a masterclass in aerial dominance. The opponent dominates Karl Dönitz in the air with worrying ease. Karl Dönitz did not have the tools to compete on that one.

Karl Dönitz sits at the end of the bench, head in hands. Decent first half but nothing special, and for a player of {his} quality, nothing special is not good enough. Erich Raeder sits down beside {him}: "Second half, mate. It is coming. Trust me." Karl Dönitz nods but does not look up. Scouts initially spotted Winston Churchill not on a pitch but in a Greggs queue, where the 152-year-old demonstrated elite spatial awareness and patience beyond his years. At 180, the lad dominated the sausage roll section. And now, our TV game show Deal or No Meal Deal! To win a potato peeler from Argos, text 4455 and answer this question: 'Which colour was banned from Milton Keynes in 1987?' The dressing rooms empty and the pitch fills up again. Rolf Carls does a few quick stretches on the touchline before jogging into position. Ready for war.

The military personnel goes for the short corner to Otto Schniewind, great vision. In that position, having the awareness to build rather than force it makes you stand out. Low cut-back from the military personnel for Wilhelm Marschall. The bare minimum for a wide player, but delivered with outrageous quality. Golden chance WAAASTED by Wilhelm Marschall! Erich Bey plays the perfect ball, the goal is empty, and he misses. Incomprehensible. Dull as ditchwater, the lads look like they're on a Sunday stroll.

Oh that's heartbreaking! Istanbul Cehennem FK score right on the stroke of half-time.

Winston Churchill mimes drawing a bow and firing an arrow at a specific section of the crowd. Hans-Georg von Friedeburg plays the dramatic victim, collapses in slow motion. Winston Churchill plays the medic arriving with an imaginary stretcher. The home end eats it up.

What a waste, the counter was a thing of beauty right up to the end. Wilhelm Marschall drops a lollipop in behind the defence, Joseph Stalin read the play perfectly and finds himself one on one. Linesman's flag is up immediately. Joseph Stalin was a good metre off on Hellmuth Heye's pass. Quick throw from Winston Churchill to Erich Raeder out wide, sharp and clever distribution. Off we go. Erich Raeder links up with Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, one touch each, bang bang, the opposition cannot keep up.

Monumental ball from Wilhelm Marschall to Otto Schniewind, the kind of pass that gets the crowd on its feet. What a block! Otto Schniewind slides in with impeccable timing and takes the ball away. That's defending at its finest. Otto Schniewind puts it right into the feet of Theodor Krancke, one touch and away. Silky stuff.

Raking ball from the military personnel to Otto Schniewind, surgical precision. In that position, vision is half the job. Phenomenal leap from Otto Schniewind who wins the header without any contest whatsoever. The opponent does not exist in the air against him.

Rolf Carls sticks to the opposition midfielder and ends up winning the ball in a dangerous area. Pressing is sacrifice, and Rolf Carls has it in buckets. Rolf Carls sends Otto Schniewind into acres of space with a clipped ball over the top. The defence turns, but it is way too late. The military personnel reads the play and puts in a textbook challenge. That's the sort of awareness you need in that position, and he's delivered it perfectly.

Points shared with Istanbul Cehennem FK. Hellmuth Heye slumps against the corner flag for a few seconds before pulling himself up. Winston Churchill has a chinwag with their number 10 — old pals from the academy days. Football brings people together, even when nobody's really won. And here's the answer to Deal or No Meal Deal! Trevor Mildew-Parsnip, from Grimsby, correctly answered the question, which was 'Which colour was banned from Milton Keynes in 1987?'. The answer was of course mauve, after a council vote determined it was too exciting for a town built entirely of roundabouts. Trevor wins this magnificent potato peeler from Argos! We leave you with tonight's feature presentation: 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, but all the questions are about council tax bands.' Phone a friend? He doesn't know either.

Matchday 12 — vs Milano Piano-Piano

2-2 (L)

Erich Bey pierces the backline with a low through ball, Joseph Stalin latches onto it at full tilt. Magnificent. The revolutionary prods the ball into the net with the tip of his boot! GOAL! In that position, that nose for goal makes you indispensable.

Erich Bey weaves through Milano Piano-Piano's defenders to reach his own fans, waving his arms to whip up the stand. Every step is chanted. Otto Schniewind screams 'COME OOOON!' next to him. World Cup final vibes in a league match.

Royal interception from Karl Dönitz! He positions himself in the passing corridor and plucks the ball out of thin air. Incredible solo charge from the officer, he goes coast to coast with the ball. When a player in that role starts running like that, it is chaos for the opposition. Karl Dönitz aims like a surgeon on the cross from Otto Schniewind! Placed finish, the keeper has no chance, GOOOOAL!

Karl Dönitz fakes a phone call, thumb and pinky against his ear: 'HELLO?! YES, I SCORED! TELL THE MISSUS!' The stadium loses it. Erich Bey plays the person on the other end of the line. Pure theatre.

Tidy restart from Winston Churchill along the deck to Erich Raeder, the press is avoided, the trap is sprung. Superb tackle from the naval officer, cleans up the danger without breaking a sweat. When you've got a player like that in the role, you sleep easy at night. Win the ball, punch forward, the transition is electric! One laser pass from Wilhelm Marschall and the entire defence is eliminated, Rolf Carls is through on goal. The space is enormous. Rolf Carls goes to ground and absolutely nails the tackle. Ball won, danger cleared, crowd on their feet.

Joseph Stalin with the last-ditch tackle, gets every bit of the ball and none of the man. The ref's happy, we're happy. They have the pitch to themselves but the cross is completely overhit. The military personnel has a pop, it's wide but grazes the post. In that position, having the bravery to shoot is good, just needs a fraction more accuracy. The ball goes from side to side but there's no end product whatsoever.

Winston Churchill rolls it short to Erich Raeder into feet, no panic, keep the ball and play. Erich Raeder fires the ball over to Otto Schniewind with a raking pass, the pitch opens up like a book. Otto Schniewind clips the ball into the area with a whipped cross, Hans-Georg von Friedeburg gets across the near post first.

Wilhelm Marschall stands up without being asked: "We need to show some bottle, lads. This is not a friendly against Milano Piano-Piano. Where is the fight? Where is the desire?" The gaffer nods slowly. Theodor Krancke cracks {his} knuckles. The message lands. Sometimes the players need to hear it from one of their own. A scouting report from Rolf Carls's youth days says — and I quote — 'technically raw, but can eat a full Sunday roast in under eight minutes.' That kind of efficiency translates to the pitch. He's now 141 and hasn't slowed down at the dinner table. And now, our TV game show Deal or No Meal Deal! To win a parking permit for Slough, text 5959 and answer this question: 'How fast can a disappointed Brit tut in miles per hour?' The rain starts to fall as the players take their positions. Rolf Carls wipes {his} face and grins. Proper football weather. Time to get stuck in.

Dead time on the pitch, both sides happy to keep it ticking over. Lay-off from Karl Dönitz to Joseph Stalin, one touch, moving forward, retaining possession. That is the game plan. Joseph Stalin slides the ball across the ground in the box, Karl Dönitz arrives for the finish. The statesperson pushes the shot away with an iron fist. In that position, reflexes are everything, and right there he was MONUMENTAL.

GOAL! Milano Piano-Piano are celebrating! Their attacker made it look far too easy.

The military personnel plays the free kick short instead of shooting. In that position, that kind of reading of the game at set pieces is pure football IQ. Karl Dönitz has a crack and BAAANG! Wide but the ball kissed the post on the way out. Back to the keeper for the fifteenth time, fans have had enough. Lay-off from Karl Dönitz to Hellmuth Heye out wide, the ball rolls down the channel like it is on rails.

Stunning tackle by Karl Dönitz in a dangerous area! Keeps his composure and wins the ball cleanly. No arguments from anyone. Blistering solo run from Karl Dönitz, he covers sixty yards on his own, beating three defenders. The officer reads the movement before anyone else and puts Rolf Carls into space. In that position, that is the kind of pass that changes a game.

Oh that's terrible! Milano Piano-Piano score on the counter-attack. We were wide open.

The stadium tifo drops at the exact moment Winston Churchill strikes: a massive 'UP THE LADS' unfurling in front of the Kop. Surreal scenes, you'd swear it was scripted. Theodor Krancke points at it, jaw on the floor. Winston Churchill shakes his head, not believing it.

Free kick crossed in by the naval officer into the box! In that position, putting deliveries like that into the area is what creates danger at every set piece. Theodor Krancke rises and smashes his header... but it goes over. Just a touch too much power. The statesperson finds Rolf Carls with a pinpoint kick. The kind of keeper who starts as many attacks as he stops.

Erich Bey boots the ball into touch with a panicked clearance. The manager winces but the result is there. Winston Churchill plays it short to Erich Raeder, building out from the back. Calculated risk. Erich Raeder swivels and releases a crossfield pass to Theodor Krancke, the ball cuts through the sky and drops on a sixpence. Vision. Theodor Krancke threads a ball into the void for Erich Bey, the timing is spot on, the space is enormous. He shapes up, he shoots... WHAT A HIT from Erich Bey! On target but the keeper palms it onto the bar!

Level score. Winston Churchill screams at the sky out of frustration — we were leading at half time. Joseph Stalin boots a stray training ball as far as he can, just to let it out. The ref watches, doesn't love it, lets it go. Everyone understands. And here's the answer to Deal or No Meal Deal! Derek Blandford-Tepid, from Slough, correctly answered the question, which was 'How fast can a disappointed Brit tut in miles per hour?'. The answer was of course Mach 2 on a Sunday, or Mach 4 if someone has pushed at the post office. Derek wins this magnificent parking permit for Slough! We hand you over now to the evening's main event: 'The Great British Bake Off, but in a caravan during a heatwave.' Soggy bottoms have a whole new meaning.

Matchday 13 — vs Sevilla Olé-Olé

1-1 (L)

The counter is on but the ball is lost dumbly when it's time to play it in. Ball into space from the marineoffizier for Hellmuth Heye, the channel is wide open. When you have got that kind of vision, you cause damage. The officer places his shot to perfection on the cross from Erich Raeder, GOOOOAL! In that position, that finesse in the foot is pure gold.

Theodor Krancke runs to the corner flag, yanks it out of the ground and plants it at the centre circle like he's claiming new territory. Hellmuth Heye gives a mock salute. The Kop responds with a full tifo unfurling. The stadium announcer plays a banger.

GOAL for Sevilla Olé-Olé! Their striker has slotted it home, nothing our keeper could do.

Winston Churchill stretches his arms like an aeroplane, makes vroom sounds with his mouth, runs around the centre circle. Otto Schniewind follows like a second plane, the engine noise is audible. Winston Churchill plays the control tower. Holiday camp vibes.

Wilhelm Marschall tries the one-two with Joseph Stalin and it comes off! The wall is perfect, Wilhelm Marschall wins the battle without even touching the opponent. Wilhelm Marschall jumps the gun on Erich Raeder's through ball. Clear offside, good call. Winston Churchill throws it out quickly to Erich Raeder, rapid distribution, catching the opposition before they can reset. The naval officer lays it off first time to Karl Dönitz, fluid stuff, exactly what you expect from a player of that calibre.

Long kick from Winston Churchill, Erich Raeder positions himself and collects in the opposition half. Game on. Great vision from Erich Raeder who switches to Erich Bey. The defence pivots, but they are too late. Erich Bey feeds Otto Schniewind in stride, sharp and decisive, the backline is scrambling. The military personnel bends the ball into the box for Hans-Georg von Friedeburg. The kind of delivery that makes the difference in the big games.

Lightning counter but the final pass is dreadful, completely wasted. Hellmuth Heye sees what nobody else sees and puts Joseph Stalin through on goal with a genius through ball.

Nobody is talking but everyone is thinking. Winston Churchill reties {his} laces for the fourth time. Theodor Krancke cracks {his} neck left, then right. The scoreline is level and the anxiety is palpable. The gaffer finally speaks: "Fifteen minutes. Give me fifteen minutes of proper intensity at the start of the second half and we win this." Here's one for the ages — Otto Schniewind is the reigning champion of the dressing room biscuit dunking competition. His record is a full eleven-second dunk with a digestive. No breakage. At 180, his hand-to-mug coordination is genuinely world class. And now, our TV game show Would I Lie to the Council! To win planning permission for a shed, text 0800SHED and answer: 'How many forms does it take to get planning permission for a garden shed two inches too tall?' The rain starts to fall as the players take their positions. Joseph Stalin wipes {his} face and grins. Proper football weather. Time to get stuck in.

Through ball from the marineoffizier for Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, the centre-halves are sliced apart like salami. In that position, that is the difference between good and elite. Hans-Georg von Friedeburg lets rip and it SHAAAVES the woodwork! Inches from a goal, so unlucky. Winston Churchill goes long for Otto Schniewind, the ball flies straight into the opposition half. Wing switch from Otto Schniewind, the ball covers forty-five yards in the air and Hans-Georg von Friedeburg brings it down with a velvet touch. Class. The military personnel wins the aerial duel with authority. In that position, heading is the foundation, and he has just reminded everyone why he starts.

The statesperson finds Joseph Stalin with a pinpoint kick. The kind of keeper who starts as many attacks as he stops. Joseph Stalin switches the play to Wilhelm Marschall on the far side, superb crossfield ball! Aerial duel won by the admiral, he crushes it in the air. When you have that leap in that role, you rule your box. Wilhelm Marschall absolutely leathers the ball and it flies into the distance. Clearance of a lifetime. Winston Churchill plays it along the ground to Joseph Stalin, composed, controlled. The modern keeper plays football too.

Theodor Krancke cleans up with a magnificent sliding tackle, wins possession, and plays it forward. That's the complete defensive action. Massive clearance from the marineoffizier under pressure. It is the basics of the role: when it gets hot, you send the ball as far away as possible. Hans-Georg von Friedeburg tries to get up for the duel but the attacker beats him to the header. The timing was off. Ball plucked out of the air by Winston Churchill, total composure. The match has gone stone cold, you could hear a pin drop.

The admiral shifts the point of attack with an inch-perfect crossfield pass to Erich Raeder. Pure quality, as per usual. Lazy pass from Erich Raeder, the ball drags along the ground and an opponent strolls over to collect. Erich Raeder anticipates the pass and intercepts cleanly. The opposition midfielder thought he had found the gap, but it was a trap. Erich Raeder rotates the play with an inch-perfect crossfield ball to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg. The far side is completely deserted.

What a ball from Otto Schniewind! It nutmegs a defender on the way through and Wilhelm Marschall is away on his own. That is velvet. WHAT A SAVE from Winston Churchill! Rushing out at the feet, the ball is gathered. One-on-one WON! Winston Churchill smashes a volley towards Rolf Carls, the ball rockets forward and drops perfectly at the feet. What a foot on that keeper.

Wilhelm Marschall gives it to Otto Schniewind from the free kick, little dummy to create the angle. Otto Schniewind gets to the byline and whips one in, the ball floats into the area looking for the head of Joseph Stalin. Joseph Stalin tries to cross but it is deflected behind for a corner by the defender. The corner from Rolf Carls is well dealt with by the defence, cleared without any fuss. Crossfield pass from Wilhelm Marschall to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg, fifty yards of pure precision, drops right into the feet.

Level score. Winston Churchill screams at the sky out of frustration — we were leading at half time. Joseph Stalin boots a stray training ball as far as he can, just to let it out. The ref watches, doesn't love it, lets it go. Everyone understands. Roger from St Albans says forty-seven forms and a two-year waiting period for the shed. Planning permission granted for Roger! Coming up after the break: 'Escape to the Country, but the budget is £47 and the country is a layby near Swindon.' Dreams are free. Houses are not.

Matchday 14 — vs München Ordnung-Muss-Sein

1-3 (L)

GOAL! München Ordnung-Muss-Sein have done the damage! Their number nine wheeled away in celebration.

Winston Churchill legs it straight to the away end, vaults the advertising hoardings and plants himself face-to-face with their supporters. Joseph Stalin tries to follow, gets nabbed by stewards. The home end loses it completely. Absolute bedlam.

Combination from Wilhelm Marschall to Joseph Stalin on the short corner, they're trying to get past the wing. The revolutionary slides a perfect cut-back for Hellmuth Heye in the box. When you have got that vision from the flank, you are world class. OOOOH the POACHER'S goal from Hellmuth Heye! The keeper spilled, he was THERE, he poked it in. GOAL!

Wilhelm Marschall and Rolf Carls do the rehearsed move from the last party: imaginary top hat lift, military salute, spin. Flawless. Winston Churchill arrives late, misses his cue, flubs it spectacularly. The crowd in bits.

Winston Churchill distributes by hand to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg on the flank, instant counter-attack launched. Attempted pass from Hans-Georg von Friedeburg to Erich Bey, but it is way too firm, flies out for a throw-in on the far side. Crucial intervention from the revolutionary, wins the tackle cleanly and recycles possession. In that role, timing is everything, and his was spot on. Joseph Stalin hoofs the ball anywhere but it gets the job done. It is ugly, it is raw, but it saves the match.

Good ball from Wilhelm Marschall to Theodor Krancke, playing it quick between the lines. Nutmeg from Theodor Krancke, the ball goes through the defender's legs. Get the camera on that. No luck for Theodor Krancke, the dribble does not come off, the defender anticipates and steals the ball. Theodor Krancke senses the pass coming and cuts the trajectory. The opponent is dispossessed without even being touched. That is football at its beautiful best. Massive clearance from Theodor Krancke in the scramble, he has whacked it out of the box. Survival mission accomplished.

Rolf Carls plays it to Wilhelm Marschall on the short corner, they stall to draw the defense and create space. Wilhelm Marschall lays it off first time to Theodor Krancke, fluid stuff, the ball is moving nicely. Backpass from Theodor Krancke goes completely wrong, the ball rolls to nobody and the opposition pounces on it. Blistering counter but the shot is so far off target it's painful.

"It is a disgrace. An absolute disgrace." The gaffer repeats it twice because once was not enough. Karl Dönitz grips the bench so hard {his} knuckles go white. Otto Schniewind is chewing the inside of {his} cheek raw. The scoreboard tells one story. The dressing room tells another, and it is even uglier. Researchers at the entirely fictional Loughborough Institute of Pace claim Winston Churchill once outran a mobility scooter in Blackpool. At 180 and 152 years old, the data was described as 'statistically irrelevant but spiritually important.' And now, our TV game show The Weakest Biscuit! To win a parking permit for Slough, text 0001 and answer this question: 'What is the boiling point of regret?' The whistle goes and twenty-two players get back to it. Karl Dönitz claps {his} hands three times, {his} little pre-half ritual. Here we go.

GOAL! München Ordnung-Muss-Sein have broken through! Their forward buried it into the bottom corner.

Wilhelm Marschall holds the attacker by the arm, ref gives the free kick without thinking twice. Wilhelm Marschall is booked after dragging back the opponent by the collar. Blatant but effective. Wilhelm Marschall puts his free kick on a sixpence into the area, Rolf Carls comes steaming in. OHHH the header from the military personnel goes over! In that role, he has got the timing and the leap, just needs a fraction more precision. Winston Churchill boots it into row Z... no wait, it is actually for Joseph Stalin! Long ball that catches everyone off guard.

Short restart from Winston Churchill to Joseph Stalin, building from the back nice and tidy. The revolutionary slides in with a perfect tackle and wins the ball. That's exactly the kind of intervention you want from someone in that position. They've broken at pace and the back line is nowhere to be seen. Key pass from Otto Schniewind! It fizzes between the lines and Erich Bey collects on the run, the defence is left for dead. The officer slides in with a perfect tackle and wins the ball. That's exactly the kind of intervention you want from someone in that position.

Ball moves quickly, players run, but the finish is heartbreaking. Rolf Carls gifts Wilhelm Marschall a highway with a pass in behind the last defender. The kind of service that is worth a goal. The admiral is flagged offside by a whisker on Erich Bey's ball, agonising decision. Video review underway, players catching their breath, supporters on the edge of their seats. Incredible tension.

Theodor Krancke anticipates the lofted pass and intercepts with his chest. Total control, maximum game intelligence. Epic counter, but the low cross goes through with no one at the back post. Bad pass from the revolutionary, the weight is completely off. In that position, that kind of mistake can be very costly.

And it's a goal! München Ordnung-Muss-Sein punish us for that sloppy defending. Heads will roll.

Flawless defense, players throwing their bodies on the line to protect the goal. Winston Churchill plucks the cross like a proper keeper. No frills, just pure efficiency. The keeper is calm. Winston Churchill launches it up the pitch, the ball drops on Wilhelm Marschall after a fifty-yard flight. Old school. Switch from Wilhelm Marschall! The ball arcs over the midfield and Hans-Georg von Friedeburg collects it on the other side. Stretching the play.

They break three on two and waste it all with the final pass. Otto Schniewind strings together a series of dribbles and covers fifty yards on his own. The crowd is on its feet. Otto Schniewind attempts an aggressive tackle but the attacker sidesteps and leaves him sliding into no-man's land. RED CARD! Rolf Carls tugs the attacker's shirt as the last man. Desperate but necessary — he's off.

Tough one against München Ordnung-Muss-Sein. Wilhelm Marschall and Joseph Stalin are the last two off the pitch, like students who don't want to face the headteacher. The tunnel swallows them up. The floodlights buzz. The stands are empty. Football is brilliant and cruel in equal measure. And here's the answer to The Weakest Biscuit! Valerie Dampsworth, from Scunthorpe, correctly answered the question, which was 'What is the boiling point of regret?'. The answer was of course 73 degrees, which is the exact temperature of a bath you ran two hours ago. Valerie wins this magnificent parking permit for Slough! Stay with us for: 'Homes Under the Hammer — Martin Roberts discovers a property so haunted even the estate agent won't go inside.' Structural survey pending. Ghost survey: conclusive.

Matchday 15 — vs London Three-Pints

1-3 (L)

The admiral commits the professional foul. Players in that role know exactly when to stop the play. Yellow card. Wilhelm Marschall grabbed the shirt and dragged the man back. Textbook professional foul. GOAL! Wilhelm Marschall sends an UNSTOPPABLE free kick into the top corner. The keeper had no chance!

Wilhelm Marschall runs to the corner flag, yanks it out of the ground and plants it at the centre circle like he's claiming new territory. Winston Churchill gives a mock salute. The Kop responds with a full tifo unfurling. The stadium announcer plays a banger.

The marineoffizier finds Joseph Stalin along the ground, clean and tidy. That kind of pass looks easy but it takes a reading of the game that is way above average. They've got the ball but it's troubling absolutely nobody. Shot from Hellmuth Heye, it's wide! Flirted with the post, missing by millimetres.

GOAAAL! London Three-Pints make no mistake! The defence parted like the Red Sea.

Hellmuth Heye gives it to Otto Schniewind and gets it back, the one-two is spot on, Hellmuth Heye is away. Lightning overlap from Hellmuth Heye, he puts ten yards on the defender in three strides. Hellmuth Heye tries to power past but the defender stands firm and wins the ball. Crucial intervention from the officer, wins the tackle cleanly and recycles possession. In that role, timing is everything, and his was spot on. Karl Dönitz boots it into the stands under pressure from the attacker, it had to go.

Short restart from the statesperson to Joseph Stalin, building out from the back. The modern keeper is basically an eleventh outfield player. The revolutionary gives it straight to the opposition. That sort of waste is not forgiven at his level. Three on one and they find a way to mess it all up, unbelievable. Line-breaking pass from Wilhelm Marschall! The ball slices through the centre-halves and Rolf Carls picks it up at full pace. Devastating. Rolf Carls goes for it and fires! Wide, just to the left of goal. Not far off at all.

The boss slams the door shut and leans against it. Nobody leaves until he says so. "Look at your faces. You are beaten already and there are still forty-five minutes on the clock. Karl Dönitz, lift your head up. Erich Raeder, stop sulking. We are footballers, not victims. Now act like it." Absolutely unbelievable scenes — Winston Churchill, aged 152, once admitted on live radio that he eats a Greggs sausage roll before every single match. The lad swears it's the secret to his pace, and honestly, who are we to argue with those numbers? And now, our TV game show Pointless But True! To win a parking permit for Slough, text 6060 and answer this question: 'In which county is it illegal to whistle at cheese?' And the second half is go! Erich Bey charges forward from kick-off like a man possessed. The gaffer watches from the technical area, arms folded. Let us see what happens.

Hans-Georg von Friedeburg delivers a tidy ball to Karl Dönitz, the kind of pass that does not make the highlights but does all the dirty work. The officer shifts Theodor Krancke into space, pass weighted to the millimetre. That is his bread and butter, he could do it blindfolded. It is not happening for Theodor Krancke, the pass to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg is weak, half-hearted, and the opponent pounces. Otto Schniewind reads that pass like an open book, surgical interception.

Oh no, it's in! London Three-Pints punish a terrible defensive error. Heads in hands.

Knee slide for twenty yards, Winston Churchill arms outstretched like a crucifix, face buried in the wet turf. Theodor Krancke slides in alongside, they both crash into the hoardings. Wonderwall starts up from the stands, fifty thousand voices, goosebumps territory.

Erich Bey reads the game like nobody else, he cuts out the cross-field pass and launches a counter immediately. The officer lays it off first time to Erich Raeder, fluid stuff, exactly what you expect from a player of that calibre. Crafty ball from Erich Raeder into the gap, Hans-Georg von Friedeburg arrives into the space and collects on the move. The military personnel butchers that pass, straight to the opposition. Unusual for a player of his calibre.

Driven kick from Winston Churchill to Theodor Krancke, long pass that bypasses the entire midfield. The marineoffizier opens up to Hans-Georg von Friedeburg on the far side. That is exactly the kind of pass he is paid to deliver. The military personnel gets to the byline and floats one in for Erich Raeder. Crossing is his bread and butter. The cross from Erich Raeder is blocked by a defender in the box. The defence holds firm.

What a mess! London Three-Pints capitalise on that blunder. We are our own worst enemy.

Winston Churchill sprints the full length of the pitch from his six-yard box to join the pile-up. The bundle forms on Winston Churchill, you can't see him under the pile, just studs sticking out. All four subs have invaded the pitch. The ref has given up blowing his whistle.

We're in a proper lull here, the game's gone to sleep. Rolf Carls pings a long diagonal to Erich Raeder, completely shifts the point of attack. Supersonic transition, but the final shot ends up in the clouds.

Blistering counter, but the one dribble too many kills the whole move. Delicious through ball from Joseph Stalin, the ball slides in behind the centre-halves and Hellmuth Heye is there to gobble it up. Devastating burst of pace from Hellmuth Heye, he eats the full-back alive on the right flank. Hellmuth Heye curls a cross to the near post, Theodor Krancke is lurking in the box. Oh my word, the scramble from Theodor Krancke's corner! Three attempts blocked, the defense survives by the skin of their teeth!

High recovery from the officer who hounds the carrier until he coughs it up. In that role, pressing is not a bonus, it is part of the job description. Hellmuth Heye spots the run from Theodor Krancke and slips it in behind the defence, inch-perfect! Bad pass from the marineoffizier, the weight is completely off. In that position, that kind of mistake can be very costly. The military personnel reads the pass and intercepts cleanly. When you have that reading ability in that position, you snuff out attacks before they even begin. Emergency clearance from the military personnel, the ball travels fifty yards. In that role, knowing when to clear is just as important as knowing when to play.

Full time and it's a bitter one. Erich Bey stands rooted to the spot, hands on hips, staring at nothing. Wilhelm Marschall walks past and squeezes his shoulder. No words needed. London Three-Pints are celebrating twenty yards away but it might as well be another planet. And here's the answer to Pointless But True! Geraldine Puddleworth, from Milton Keynes, correctly answered the question, which was 'In which county is it illegal to whistle at cheese?'. The answer was of course Shropshire, where the Cheddar Protection Act of 1903 remains in force. Geraldine wins this magnificent parking permit for Slough! And now, the show nobody asked for: 'Love Island: Wetherspoons Edition.' Twelve singles. One sticky carpet. Zero phone signal. Who will find love by last orders?