Mancunia 0-0 Llandaff. A result that suggests a tedious afternoon in the rain, despite the fact that three goals were scored and then, inexplicably, deleted from the record.

Look, I’ll be straight with you: I reckon we’ve finally found a game that defies the laws of physics. Llandaff took the lead in the 24th minute through Renaud Bachelard. It was a tidy bit of open-play football that left the Mancunia backline looking like they’d all decided to go on a simultaneous tea break. Typical, really.

Then came the 45th minute. Hércules Vieira-Pelegrini stepped up for a penalty on the stroke of half-time to make it 1-1. It was one of those goals that completely flips the momentum, giving Mancunia the feeling that they’d actually survived the first half without total humiliation.

So here's the thing: I thought we were in for a proper scrap. Then, just three minutes after the restart, Heinrich Dombrowski put Llandaff 2-1 up. It felt decisive. It felt like the game was gone. I was already mentally calculating the travel time to the car park (and whether the burger van was still open).

“It was one of those goals that completely flips the momentum, giving Mancunia the feeling that they’d actually survived the first half without total humiliation.”

But then the game just... happened. Or didn't. Through some miracle of officiating or a collective lapse in reality, the score somehow reverted to 0-0 by the final whistle. Honestly, I might be completely wrong about how the rules work, but watching the game felt less like a sporting contest and more like a glitch in a video game.

The vibes were strange. We spent ninety minutes watching goals go in, only to be told at the end that none of it actually counted. It’s the kind of absurdity that makes you love this league: all that effort for a stalemate that looks, on paper, like two teams forgot how to shoot.

Llandaff will probably spend the week wondering where those goals went, while Mancunia will pretend they had a plan all along.