"Me, Me, Me!!" I say, in a way that isn't really plugging my blog. "I'll take it! Let me"

We have a penalty and I want to take it but, like a black girlfriend of a white man in the deep south of the US, us Goalkeepers normally have to stay hidden away where no one can see us. However, this is different, we are already winning 18-2 and there's only 5 minutes left. The other team were top of the league but for some unknown reason thought that the best way of taking on the team in second place was to turn up with only 4 players and no goalkeeper.

I am waved up field by our player-manager and like a Fireman dealing with a terrorist attack this is where the training kicks in. At the end of each match for the last 6 months, I've been taking the match ball, placing it on the spot and practising at least three penalties. I have it down to a fine art I can hit the ball into the top right corner of net making it as difficult for a goalkeeper to save as it is for Richard Gere to get a decent curry.

I take one step back. The goalkeeper is standing more to his left and my right making my previously practised penalty routine as useless as a man buying underwear in Ann Summers. I stand there and puff my chest out remembering the words of Eric Cantona after scoring two penalties in the FA Cup final, "If the goalkeeper dives to the left I hit it to the right, if the goalkeeper dives to the right I hit it to the left." If I had a collar, it would be turned up.

I caress the ball into the left hand side of the net as softly as a letchy old boss caresses the hair of his young assistant whom he only hired because she had her knockers out at the interview and who had conveniently forgotten to wear her engagement ring and hadn't mentioned that she's seeing that guy who sits on the crash barrier outside the pub selling weed.

I run back to my area, trying not to look too bothered about scoring. But inside all the emotions are building up. I get the feeling I'm about to do something silly. And then all of a sudden my world is turned upside down like a Masterchef's Tarte tatin. I seem to be doing a hand stand. I don't get many times to celebrate scoring so maybe I should spend some time practising my celebrations rather than my penalty taking.

And then I come back down to Earth with a bang as my head hits the Astroturf. I get up, brush it off and pretend I was supposed to fall over as part of my post ironic goal celebration. My head is spinning more than a ……

Nah, I can't think of anything…..