WEN MOUTHS FALL IN DESPAIR

10th October 2025 - Wendron United 1 v 0 Falmouth Town reserves - By heck we were being busy on our hols.  Up at the crack every day, walking and wildlife recording, visiting cafes and shops and seeing all manner of natural gems.  Today we opted for a change in attack, first port of call was a game of pitch and putt on a 12 hole course of all par threes. In truth, I expected a disaster with balls lost, clubs snapped, ponds and bunkers visited and the odd bruise from a stray ball.  We did OK - I ended up with a birdie, a par and my missus bagged a par too.  My fine daughter did well but was too aggressive on the putting - I blame all the dancing, too much energy that tinker. A cafe break was had and then a round of crazy golf was a joy, a couple of holes in one were choice and a few expletives used in the most appealing manner.  From here I was dropped off at Hayle Estuary whilst my lasses did a bit of shopping.  I took it easy and saw some nice birds - close-ups of Curlew Sandpiper, Greenshank and Dunlin being especially nice.  A meet-up and to Tehidy Country Park we went for a long stroll, some fungi recording and of course, another cafe visit.  A long stroll we had, the legs were knackered and the bellies rumbled.  Nourishment was soon found, and then we sought the footy. 

The ground of Wendron is known as The Underlane, I think 'Under The Radar' would be a better tag, by crikey it was a tucked away spot.  After the odd wrong turn we managed to find a long darkened thoroughfare along which we hesitantly travelled and there, in the midst of nowhere, was a fine Non-League set up to behold.  We wrapped up as a chill was nipping at the nethers, entered, paid our dues, and picked an appropriate viewing point.  This looked to be a well-thought out affair although the pillars in front of the seating area were a niggle and duly avoided.  I like to see everything that goes on, we adopted a perch where the buttocks were placed against a ledge and the shanks could still be stretched - splendid. 

A decent turn-out was had, I am sure by many locals who have good navigational skills, and the game promptly started on the dot of 7.45pm.  The first action came mere minutes after the globe got rolling.  The home keeper received, his attempt at a clearance was blocked, No 7 (Kian Thomas) for the guests found himself with an open goal awaiting a kiss of the globe.  It was all too much for the wannabe assassin and the target was missed - by Jove sir that was a chance gone! 

The response was quick, some good work by No 11 (Josh Wood) resulted in a foul and a free-kick into the meat of the wall.  No 2 (Ollie Tomlinson) grabbed the loose ball out wide, in and out the globe went with a shot deflected wide for a corner.  Ball in, keeper safe - no breakthrough had.  Soon after Wood received a cross ball, took one touch and had a pop - the ball flew over the horizontal! This was all promising stuff for the hosts but Falmouth were not laying back to take a beating and duly counterpunched with No 8 (Ryan Townson) leading the way. Alas a corner was won, the threat dissipated and we continued with no penetration had. 

Despite no goals this was a perfectly balanced game with the defending ranks at both ends doing enough to snuff out any real peril. Falmouth started to work up a real bubbling lather, their pressing was admirable and the energy levels impressive.  Despite this the hosts won the next corner with the sphere going into the box, back out and being returned via a crisp volley by the well-balanced Thomas.  The strike was worthy of a goal but the ball went into the awaiting keepers arms. 

Falmouth won two corners in return, Wendron were secure at the back and looked like seeing the half out without any bulging of their net.  Before the break the Falmouth No 9 (Evan Tresider) flashed a shot forth that the mitter held onto at the second attempt and then from a Wendron corner the ball came back out of the box, No 3 (Rio Pledger) reposted, Thomas touched on but again, the defender with the gloves grabbed and denied.  A few more efforts were had at either end, this match reporter had little more to add. 

We stayed put for the break, a Cockchafer was seen whizzing about, a nip was pervading the privates, I just hope the said coleopteron didn't follow suit.  It had been rather clement of late, I had been seen gracing the cliffs of The Lizard with ye olde belly out, surely Jack Frost was not ready to object? 

Half two of an intriguing encounter - it was a brisk start with both teams at it like Turkey-Assed bastards loaded on whizz.  Wendron cultivated a nice counter to some approaching danger with Thomas at the apex who was hassled by the guest No 2 (Levi Hilling) that allowed the keeper to douse the rising flames of hope.  After some toing and froing Thomas was almost in again but that trigger was left unpulled and the chance went begging.  No 10 (Billy Stone) for the hosts had a gratis dig next when the ball was sent around the wall and flew inches wide - surely a goal was going to grace this game mighty soon. 

The visiting No 10 (Aaron Hicks) nearly confirmed my thoughts when he sent forth a rangy pop that just failed to lose its elevated trajectory and flew over the bar.  From here though the Falmouth No 3 (Will Harding) flew forth, entered the box and was unceremoniously tumbled.  A penalty looked to be the outcome, the referee had other ideas and awarded a free-kick outside the box.  Crikey, as a neutral even I could see that this was a serious error.  To be fair the Falmouth lads did well to not blow a fuse and duly got on with matters in applaudable style.  The free kick was taken by No 5 (Reece Carroll) the horizontal timber was grazed and the ball went dead. 

Falmouth came on but too many high balls went forth and Wendron looked totally cool when dealing with these airborne advances.  As we entered the unsettling realms of Desperation Street and penalties loomed in the near distance both teams looked to snatch a winner.  Wendron came close but Falmouth's Harding was a cranial saviour and as we entered the final chucks Falmouth looked to push but the move was quelled by the resident Number 4 (Max Roberts) who was happy to take a card and give away a free-kick.  The bonus booting was shit and Wendron came on, won a corner from which followed a cracking dig at goal that the keeper did well to save.  I missed the striker's number, darn these non-nocturnal peepers. 

And to the dregs we went, a home long ball was played, Ryan Reeve was on the end of it. There was a chance for all-consuming glory and this duly came as the ball was struck and the meshing was bulged - an unquestionable winning goal it seemed and kick up the Khyber for a team who didn't deserve this.  A few final huffs and puffs and the referee blew for full time - it goes without saying that football can be a cruel game at times.  This, despite only one goal, had been a good cup tie with some strong performances.  For me though Wendron United's No 5 (Russell May) was absolutely outstanding both in the air and on the deck.  The main winning aspect of the stint tonight though was the communication level and the encouragement given throughout - a real captain's role and just desserts had at the end.  Cracking stuff and we wasted no time in getting back to the caravan and getting the noggins down - it was another early start in the morn - rock pooling, birding and shrooms tha' knows - oh, and another Non-League fix. 

FINAL THOUGHTS - And once again, a highly competitive game darn sarf played with a high level of industry, good sportsmanship and with a certain honesty. This game could have gone either way but I think the hosts just deserved it and the defending was watertight.  Falmouth played too many high balls into the danger area and just didn't have the aerial threat to capitalise on these - maybe a lofty player up front as an option may help.  They should have had a penalty though, that could have been a game changer but this is the joy of footy at this level - 'ifs', 'buts' and 'maybes' - it adds to the intrigue.  Wendron look a very capable unit, with options aplenty and some very steady players in their ranks.  I am clueless as to what the cup holds and their potential but I do wish them well and once again, if I am in the area, I will be tempted to pay a return visit (after some wildlife recording of course). 

REPLAY REBOUND

4th October 2025 - Helston Athletic 4 v 1 Stoke Gabriel and Torbay Police - We were in Cornwall on a late break.  The year had been hectic and so, during a season when I am usually leading fungi walks, we decided time was needed to have a break.  We arrived in a genital-blasting hoolie that nearly blew over our caravan during a unsettling stormy night. We survived, my conkers remained attached and we set out for a morn around the shops (and cafe) of Helston with a wildlife pootle around Coronation Park and down the Penrose Trail greatly enjoyed.  It was a fair walk although a chat with a guy who professed to wanting to kill a copper was somewhat overly colourful. Some choice fungi were seen, a few insects, blooms, birds, galls and other oddments were added too. Time though raced on, we were soon back at the car and, after a very short drive, at Kellaway Park, the ground of Helston Athletic FC.

The set up was sound, the obligatory coffees bagged and seats chosen for what was a cup replay after the away team had been punished for fielding a few ineligible players (so I was informed by a touchline home fan).  We all made pre-match predictions (which were all proven to be wrong) and the match unfolded as thus:-

The initial play was fairly balanced at both ends of the pitch with much promise displayed.  The robust breeze that was blowing through though was looking to be the predominant player in an opening sequence that was making matters difficult to predict.  Helston were passing well but just failing to squeeze the trigger quickly and slightly guilty of not working hard enough off the ball.  The home No 19 (Jude Tripconey) though was a lively component and eventually earned his side a gratis hoofing.  No 10 (Finn Costa) took the honours, played it short to No 7 (Olly Redd) who touched on to No 12 (Matt Searle) whose finalising shot had too much uplift.  From this fair move the ball was booted goalward by the home No 16 (Jake Warman) who saw the visiting mitter (Jimmy Weeks) off his line and duly chanced his shank.  The keeper backpedalled and pushed the ball onto the upright to save his side's exposed arses.  Phew, that was a close bloomer for sure.

Helston continued to make most of the play with a throw in coming that landed at the feet of the forward thinking No 9 (Liam Eddy) who turned and let fly a low shot that the keeper smothered with unflustered ease.  The guests continued to look for scraps and eventually grew into the game proper.  Eddy though had another pop soon after but the keeper collected with no fuss once again.  From nowhere though the guests reacted.  No 12 (Billy Spurway) had a good dig at goal and forced the home No 1 (Morgan Jones) into producing a quite choice save and then, within the shake of a sausage dog's todger, some shabby defending allowed Aldus to crack one off and force the keeper into pull off another solid block.  A corner ensued, it was posted with good pace and accuracy but the keeper was there to palm away.

The pressure on the home goal led to a couple of breaks that were laden with potential but which lacked the all crucial coup de grace, I felt as though the opening goal was getting close though and girded my loins for a real net buster (oh we of warped faith).  No 11 (Phil Cattran) for the home lads tried to break the deadlock from range but the shot had more uplift than the wired up brazzies of Dolly Parton.  At the other end Spurway beat a couple of players, entered the box of promise but was just unable to negotiate a further bod.  Aldus had a grass-grazing shot that went wide next and then Helston pounced.  Much probing was done. Eddy eventually gathered, played a sumptuous pass to Cattran who only had the gloved one to beat.  This man between the uprights was duped, the ball sent home and the lead was bagged.  Nifty work!

The game galloped forth, Stoke pressed, No 2 (Sam Bishop) let fly a right old sizzler that was inches over and then Helston advanced via Redd who had time to strike but was beaten to the boomer by Eddy who neatly doubled his side's lead.  From the restart Stoke jumped out of the blocks, Aldus was at the apex of a swift move and released a low firm effort that found the back of the net.  A strange silence was borne, the ground became a graveyard of eerie sound absence - we three onlookers looked at one another and were in a unified 'WTF' moment - how odd, but great for the game it was.

From here little else occurred and into the break we went.  The sun came back out, the match held plenty of intrigue and a fine award was had by one B. Dunston for 50 years of footballing service.  Great stuff and applause all round.  To cap a wonderful interval we just needed to win the 50/50 draw but, it seems like the chairman's lovechild was in luck again with his 17^th win on the bounce.  I remained without suspicion!

A free-kick was earned by the guests at the start of period 2, the keeper was unruffled and dealt with it.  At the other end Cattran took too long in striking the ball, Eddy was quicker and had a shot that was tidily touched over.  The resultant corner was hit too long.  A few semi-chances came, the stickmen stood firm.  There came a lapse in fluidity and hot-assed action although I felt a fart building and considered blowing one off in the liner's mush.  Alas I am not a public flatulator, it goes against the laws of observed decency he says (whilst steaming up his monocle).

A few shots and a free-kick threatened to curry the spices and this was the case when the visitors lost the ball and Eddy got his noggin down and had only one thing on his mind (well two if you count the post match bowl of savoury testes).  The goal was sighted, the ball boshed, 3 - 1 it now was and the goal was well taken for sure. Things were looking hunky-dory for the hosts and so a sub was made, a local favourite it seemed.  The player was coming back after a long injury and no sooner had he entered the fray he indulged in a 50/50 ball and after some prolonged treatment was stretchered off.  All the best for a quick recovery lad.

The game continued, Heston's Eddy tried to bag another but the danger was quelled by an alert defender and then Stoke flashed forth with a cross ensuing and a downward header executed and looking destined for a goal but stopped by the eye-catching mittman.  From here the away pack applied some heavy pressure thus forcing the resident squad to dig deep.  Alas no comeback was to be and this scenario was cemented when Helston's No 14 (George Marris) beat 3 players, delivered a cross that saw the globe ping about and go loose.  Searle collected from the opposing flank, put in what looked like a cross ball that metamorphed into a shot and brought the scoreline to 4 goals to 1. A prayer of thanks perhaps to the Greek God Boreas and his assisting wind methinks (now that's flatulence).

The game tickled on, no further thrills seemed likely and I found time to empty the throbbing plumbing system.  I was back on the touchline to see the guest No 7 (Saul Vanes) twat one over and that was that.  Man of the Match must go to the Helston Athletic No 1 (Morgan Jones) who made several quality laden and utterly crucial saves at the right time to make sure his side remained in matters, took charge and kept their noses in front.  I like it when a keeper gets the MOM nod, good on ya chap.  Keep then maulers safe!

We three onlookers headed off, this had been a good visit and a good game played in a sound spirit - the next time we are in Cornwall we may be back.

FINAL THOUGHTS - Overall the match was played in a very applaudable spirit that saw needless niggles, gripes and gobbing off absent (this was a real noteworthy aspect).  I think the home team won this with relative ease and hopefully will continue on a good cup run that will bring them good reward.  If the wind helps blow them in the right direction then so be it, they just need to make sure that for each and every game, after a goal, there is no lapse in concentration.  Stoke Gabriel And Torbay Police contributed to the fair play essence of this game and despite struggling with the whole affair today they remained disciplined and never lost their heads.  This was just one of those days when a team wasn't allowed to get going and I am sure they will bounce back from this setback.  I noted a few good grafters in the mix and some steady suppliers of the ball which is always the sign of a decent backbone - here's to a change in fortune soon.  

JEKYLL AND HYDE

6th September 2025 - AFC Blackpool 2 v 0 Maine Road - With the climate looking to be kind to our plans we rose early, packed up and headed to Lytham St Annes. We visited a garden centre at 9am prompt, purchased a few items and had a small breakfast and coffee that set us up for the day.  From here we met a couple of fine friends at nearby Lytham Hall and had a slow and steady wildlife pootle and clocked up, despite the arid conditions and disturbing tread of folks, 165 species.  The cafe visit was a pleasure and I did share a cake with the good lady despite being on a health kick.  Many hoverflies frequented the nearby flowers and a Painted Lady Butterfly was a bonus.  The only gripe was some nearby goon waffling on about how they need to get HS2 finished as it would save him (and other deadheads) 20 minutes on a certain journey - a note was made of this strange clacking species - Idioticus twattus - I don't think it falls into the uncommon bracket.

After farewells we set off and within a matter of minutes we had parked up at the ground, had paid our fee and were perched in position with brews in hand.  I like this ground, a good layout, a feeling of spaciousness and the coffee was fair enough for sure.  Predictions were made, my wife fancied draw, I went for an away win, what a couple of wankers we turned out to be.

A fractured start to the game saw two teams gallop and gasp but no real upperhand had.  This set theme seemed to continue for a great while and I did pessimistically wonder if we were in for a goal drought.  Eventually the home team started to show greater urgency and attacking prowess when a long goal kick found No 11 (James Hughes) out wide.  The player finding himself in possession got the noggin down, cut in and decided to chance matters with a low, turf skimming shot.  The visiting No 1 (Oliver Brockbank) was down in plenty of time but fatally allowed the ball to squirm under his carcass and roll into the net.  A crucial mistake but better early in the game than at the death.

The Road were needing to respond to this suckerpunch and rise from the canvas, gain some composure and fire back without delay.  A free-kick was eventually earned, the ball entered the box, was bumbled away which allowed No 6 (Ben Mooney) to have a pop.  The effort was close but not close enough and the guests continued to push into a deceptive wind that saw all high balls get diluted of threat.  AFC Blackpool defended as Maine Road advanced, another dash by the Blues fizzled due to the support trotting into position and not giving the possessor of the ball any options.    Matters must improve, the players needed a dose of Non-League laxatives methinks.

AFC Blackpool were showing a great adeptness at pilfering the ball and after one such thieving incident there followed some choice interplay with No 10 (Jack Banks) showcasing himself as a tricky-footed blighter. No 7 (Jacob Gregory) posted a good ball in that No 8 (Shaun Sailor) cranially connected with but not providing enough 'oomph' and making matters too easy for the keeper.  The Blackpool mob came again, a cutting ball saw Gregory gather and fire but be denied by the mittman.  Several minor scares came at each end, nothing to send a tremble to parts untapped though.  The hosts earned a throw in that caused in-box chaos with a corner ensuing, Gregory threading to Banks who just couldn't keep his shot below the timber.

As the half wound down MR's No 7 (Loui Williams) had a pop that was abysmal, a corner for the Blues saw the hosts remain as defensively tight as Anne Widdecombe's rear end and then The Mechanics broke away, Maine Road became awash with panic, failed to deal with the danger and gave away a spot kick.  Gregory stepped up to deal with matters and duly rattled the ball home to double his sides lead.  In truth, the two goal advantage was more than deserved.

Just prior to the break Blackpool won a free-kick which was sent forth and flicked on by Sailor.  Gregory connected , the outcome was a real close shaver that was worthy of a net buster.  Alas it was not to be and Maine Road's hopes continued to hang by a thread.  The referee blew for the break, we two onlookers had a wander, looking at the local flowers, enjoying the fine fresh air and finding a seating position at the opposite side of the ground.  The guests really needed to turn things around here as the first half display was shabby beyond belief.  AFC Blackpool just needed to keep up the work rate, remain solid and see the game through - easier said than done.

The second period began with Maine Road borne again and obviously taking heed of what I suspected was a robust half-time team talk.  Either this or the threat of a visit from a Cyril Smith look-a-like had certainly put a spring in the teams step and a corner was immediately won.  The delivery was choice, Mooney appeared and put in a point blank header that the keeper somehow saved.  The ball went out, Williams gained possession, cultivated a shot that was mighty close indeed.  Within seconds another corner came, the keeper dropped but an infringement was spotted.  The Road had their tails up, a recent sub had a dig but the ball strayed wide of the mark,  This was a good response though and once more the blue clad unit advanced with a ball out wide won after some hard industry.  A ball came into the box, No 9 (Jack Coop) put in a header and quivered the upright - another big chance gone.

The hosts eventually had a break and earned a bonus boot. The delivery was bilge but soon after another break was had, Gregory put a swift ball in that Hughes connected with but saw the globe get deflected wide.  The corner came, No 6 (Kieran Shaw) had a header but it was easily grabbed by the keeper's mitts.  Two more attacks came, both snubbed out by offside decisions but the growing threat was there.  The Road reacted with a corner leading to a defensive flick on that saw No 10 (Mark Pearson) volley wide - and again, the home netting survived a bulging.

Matters proceeded with a hectic tempo. Maine Road had several more pops at goal, all to no avail.  Time trickled away and hope was seemingly taking a dive and considering a trip around the u-bend of abandonment when Banks committed an over-hearty tackle and was given a straight red.  Was this the dangled carrot the travellers needed?  There was little left on the clock, if there was going to be a turnaround then shorts, socks and surgical trusses needed hitching up.

The sky blue clad ranks came on, a free kick earned that Coop hit forth with a sugar sweet connection.  A goal was anticipated but the horizontal length of timber was rattled - it was just going to be one of those days.  Into added time we went, Maine Road put in a good stint but too many efforts were off target.  Corners, great gallons of perspiration and much whirring leg work didn't help matters and when the referee blew it seemed only right that the points were going the way of the satsuma-coloured army.  Man of the Match I reckon was duly earned by AFC Blackpool's No 5 (Anthony Pearson) - a stalwart at the back who had a good reading of the game, made sure the rank and file were organised and in the second half, pissed on the pasties of promise the opposing force were striving to serve forth.  This had been a game of two halves, this chap was a standout throughout!

We wandered off and saw a few extra wild things before getting into the car and heading home.  As per, a visit to AFC Blackpool is always part of a good day out, we look forward to the return.

FINAL THOUGHTS- Well, where to start with Maine Road.  This was another one of those familiar Jekyll and Hyde performances that really do discombobulate the senses of logic.  The first half the team were downright abysmal with no cohesion, no real flair or desire and no real threat.  They were lucky to be only two down if the truth be told and maybe, a more attack minded side would have buried the game long before the 45 minute spell was up.  The second half though was a real turnaround and if the lads would have bagged a draw I think no one would have had any complaints.  The fact remains though, they must play like this for each and every minute of every game, any more spells like the first half stint here and any thoughts of a top ten finish can be forgotten.  As for AFC Blackpool, well they are difficult to judge on this game due to the peer opposition in half one and the fact that they were on the back foot for a lot of half two.  Granted, they were down to 10 men for some of the game, and they did see things out without conceding.  They do seem to me a team in the process of gelling and maybe this win will begin a run of games that will earn many points.  They do need to get their arses in gear though as games are slipping by and the teams at the top are building up a good head of steam.  I shall be watching the next few results with my beady eye and crossing my fingers in hope.  I shall also be catching up with Maine Road many times throughout the season, I may be branded a pervert for punishment looking at the way matters unfolded today - I may be wiser paying a dwarf dominatrix to throw Weebles at my nob!  Many things doth wobble but will they fall down!

BLOOD THRUST

30th August 2025 - Ashton Athletic 1 v 4 Droylsden FC - Footballing Saturday was here again.  We ponder, pick and head out - the plan as per, to have a good morn walking, wildlife recording and chilling before getting the usual ball booting fix.  Today I was leading a walk at Bewsey Woods for the Land Trust so had no  say in where we were going.  The good lady was my partner in crime and we led a decent bunch of folk around an area in need of a good soaking.  We clocked up 110 species, had some good natters and arrived at the ground in good time.  We had avoided all rain but as we left the car and purchased brews it seemed we had just scraped by.  A quick pootle around the pitch resulted in 21 species of wildflower in bloom, Field Horsetail and a Common Field Grasshopper (Chorthippus brunneus) heading for cover.  We followed the groppers intent and were soon seated and out of the elements.  We settled in, predictions made for game 16 of the season.  Things slow up from here as I lead more walks for a while and am here, there and everywhere.  I shall do what I can and hopefully squeeze in the odd report, just like this one, No 434 in fact - ooh me fuckin' nib!

The object that is round got hoofed on the dot of the hallowed footballing time as the wind grew in strength and the first timed teardrops fell from the sullen skies.  No 7 (Yasir Salim) wasted no time in making a thrust, cutting in and having a shot that saw a corner ensue.  The ball entered the box, was sent outward before No 5 (Emmanuel Udjor Omorogbe) received and touched off to No 4 (Jamie Robinson) who had a pop and made the home No 1 (Billy Davies) produce a choice save.  The immediate follow-on corner was easily dealt with.

Ashton eventually began to gain some possession and won a free kick.  The ball was played, No 9 (Deklan Hill) challenged the keeper, the ball went loose but No 7's (Emmanuel Ujahchuku) touch was shabby and matters were cleared.  Droylsden were still holding the upper hand although they were not finding many areas to create threat due to the home team's constant hustling.  Eventually though a sumptuous ball was played to Salim, a pure chance was seemingly there to be had but by heck that first touch by the wannabe assassin was dire.  The Bloods advanced again, a superb cross field ball was followed by a choice delivery that saw No 11 (Nellson Van) cranially connect with and have his attempt saved right on the line.

The game continued, the weather dissolved into a dreary mess. A free-kick was awarded to the guests with the quality of the delivery not deserved of an untimely infringement.  Van had the next effort after great huff and puff battling.  The shot went over the timber into the murky beyond and then a corner came with yet another testing posting had and the keeper doing mighty well to punch clear from a clashing mush of carcasses.

A spark was needed to really ignite this game that was just lacking that extra magnetising edge.  The guests put together a sound passing sequence, No 10 (Caelan Kilheeney) sent forth a good cross that just wasn't met by the incoming attackers.  Soon after No 6 (Luis Cantello) had a crack that was way over the bar and No 8 (Luke Crompton) returned with the same effort and outcome up the other end of the park.  The away lads nearly committed the cardinal sin when pissing about with the ball at the back and allowing Crompton to nip in, pilfer and have his sights set on an open goal.  The shot that came from distance though was ruddy woeful.  The hosts came again, Kilheeney fired first time but only found the awaiting keeper's midriff.  

During this period of little threat came an unholy stench of fish.  I was wondering if someone had smuggled in a sardine -based snack or perhaps a Joan Collin's look-a-like was in attendance and watching the match with legs akimbo.  One thing for sure, my cod-piece was going in the bin when I got home.  Anyhoo, the half fizzled out with the closest we got to a goal being when an Ashton ball into the Droylsden box bounced with great 'oomph' and nearly beat the keeper.  The mitted one did well to palm behind, the corner bore sour bugger all.

Despite the malodorous stench that only the most perverse ichthyologist would get aroused by, and the need for a quick water break, we stayed put for the break and watched the rain fall, the distant trees sway and a few locals bear the weather in the hope of a better second half.  I had gone for a 1 - 3 scoreline, my missus had opted for 1 - 4 - we were being affected by the weather though and felt that a 0 - 0 draw was on the cards - ooh what miseries.

The second half began with hopes flatlined, but things soon lifted when it was noted that the hosts had a veritable spring in their step whereas the visitors seemed a trifle unsettled.  Eventually the latter team got back into the groove with a quick flourish that the home keeper (who was having a ruddy fine game) did well to snuff out.  Ashton responded, Hill busted a goolie and earned a gratis hoofing.  No 5 (Ethan Pearce) stepped up and took the honours with a grass-grazing blisterer that the keeper did well to get down to and, more importantly, hold onto.

Another free kick came for the Bloods soon after with a cracking delivery leading to a touch that just went wide.  A corner was the result with the ball blocked, sent out and No 9 (Kyle Campbell) leaning back and having a pop that had too much uplift (a bit like the titties of Tessie O'Shea when she tried out the patented Breast Scaffolding as designed by Dr Franz Mammary).  Ashton came on with a superb delivery into the area marked 'hazardous' only for the robust Udjor Omorogbe to tidily nut away.  A handball shout came, nothing was doing and the scoresheet remained unblemished.

End to end hoofing came, composure was lacking and we awaited a strike of any import.  Droylsden pushed, Ashton nipped away after the guests were guilty of being trigger shy.  Hill released Emmanuel Ujahchuku who only had the keeper to beat.  The shot was low, the No 1 (Jordan Latham) watched it all the way and saved.  The corner in was dealt with - a golden chance was gone.  At the other end a recent substitute tried to dink one in but the keeper easily dealt with it - by heck, where was the opening goal coming from?

From here Droylsden won a corner, I expected little, imagine the shock when the ball was struck by No 12 (Sam Oliver) and went straight into the goal.  Well if ever a game needed a stroke of luck this was it!  Within mere moments the leading team were at it again, Campbell was in the box and tumbled, the referee wasted no time in pointing to the spot.  Campbell stepped up and struck well, the keeper reacted and produced a quality save.  The corner came, in, out and back in the ball went with Robinson rising and nutting home.  0 - 2 - now then, what's going on here?

The game briefly settled, Ashton were stuttering along and conceded another.  No glory but a repeat ball in was had.  In the globe glided, No 14 (Cody Artwell) rose and the third goal was bagged.  From a game looking to be destitute of goals we now had three in the bag.  The clock was winding down and it looked as though a comeback was beyond the realms of possibility.  An Ashton sub had a dig that went straight at the mitter and then at the other end Artwell latched onto a ball and yet another strike was bagged.  The home team looked deflated and bewildered, this was a cruel turn of events.  In the final spurts another pop at the Ashton goal came and then the home No 3 (Aleksander Calaku) went on a fine run, put the ball in and  Ujahchuku grabbed a consolation.  

Game done, we were keen to get on the homeward journey and avoid arsing about under the vile clouds and inhaling anymore nasal invading haddock odours.  This had been a fair day out though, the Man of the Match was a close call, I thought the home No 1 (Billy Davies) was exceptional and ruddy unfortunate to let 4 goals in but, for me, Droylsden's No 5 (Emmanuel Udjor Omorogbe) was a concrete rock at the back and played with a simplistic style, a strong authority and a good reading of the game. I like the way the man operated today - keep it up fella.

FINAL THOUGHTS- It had been a while since we were last at this ground, it was nice to return and see a few goals.  Ashton Athletic look to be in for a tough season, the team just seem to be lacking that final finished gloss and that much needed cohesion.  A mere splashing of luck may help turn things around and a more relaxed and attacking frame of thinking may alter tack.  They have several players who look to be willing, able and competent and maybe, just maybe, with one or two wins a corner can be turned.  This is an unforgiving league though and the season will breeze on - I hope the next time I see them they are faring better.  Droylsden FC are my tip to win this league, they will be in the mix as they do have funds and a squad that looks mighty close to being a complete unit.  There are no real flaws anywhere on the park although they do need to be more aggressive up front and when the strike zone is spied the trigger needs to be pulled.  The first half indicated perhaps that they can be dragged down into the mire but the second half showed what determination and belief can do.  The next few months will roll by and then we may have a clearer picture of how the campaign will unfold. Rest assured though, it won't be easy for any team this time around.

PURPS SENT WEST

25th August 2025 - City of Liverpool 1 v 4 West Didsbury and Chorlton FC - The weather was set fair again, we took the opportunity to go to Lunt Meadows Nature Reserve and see what we could see.  The pools were dried up like the face of Angela Rayner and the grass was washed out and limp, akin to the hopes of the nation thanks to the digital drain, the succession of idiot governments and the masses inability to break the mould.  We did OK though - 120+ species all taken in, respected and recorded, a good stretch of the shanks and then a pop into Maghull for coffee and cake and a pootle in a few charity shops.  From here we headed to Burscough FC, parked up at the ground and did a circular walk nearby with more wildlife recorded and a few nooks and crannies explored.  Back at the ground with an hour before kick-off and we shared some chips, had a drink and both had a good read.  The climate was soporific to say the least, we could have been excused I am sure for dozing off and missing the whole match.  Thankfully we kept the peepers peeled (just) and these are my humble scribblings.

And into the animated waters of globe chasing we went with the start to the game notably slow on what was a thermally lofted day.  Initial sway fell to the WDC pack whilst the opposing force just struggled to gain any foothold.  A few forward balls were posted by the guests but no serious threats were borne.  The first hope of a strike came when the West's No 7 (Lewis Billingsley) went on a run that saw the COL defence open up like the diarrhoea spilling maw of Kier Starmer.  The dig that came lacked power whereas the aforementioned PM's bilge just lacks honesty. In return, the best that could be offered was a cloud-fracturing welly-wanger from the No 3 (Robert Murphy) which was hammered with hope but which turned out to be hopeless.

From here the home team eventually found their footing, 2 shots came in quick succession, both were blocked with No 11 (Che Trepasso-Tully) providing another effort that was deflected wide.  The corner that came was, ahem... shit.  A neat Purps move saw a finalised shot get saved and then a flashing West response come via No 11 (Billy Matthews) who galloped like a good un', exposed mercurial tootsie's, negotiated his marker and sent in a cross.  A defensive header put the ball behind and from the corner great confusion arose with the resident ranks happy to hoof clear.

The City of Liverpool were next to advance with the WDC mob gaining possession and trying to play out from the back.  The idea was sound, the execution poor and in nipped the home No 8 (Kurtis Pearson) to pilfer, punt and unfortunately ping the side netting.  The same team were soon away again, Trepasso-Tully feeding No 9 (Stephen Milne) that gave rise to a shot and a ruddy good save.  The angled humping came, a shot was blocked by a lunged carcass, the ball was astray and 'boom' - Murphy snaffled up the awaiting sphere and sent it nestling into the onion bag.  The game needed it, we needed it and the struggling home team needed it - now where do we go from here?

Well, the visiting Billingsley took down a long ball with consummate ease, turned and beat his marker.  The shot that followed was deflected wide, in truth, the lad deserved better.  The Purps had two more corners that were well delivered but snuffed out before a hefty kick from the rear released Billingsley who had an abundance of space to cause serious trouble but, before he could don the role of Dennis the Menace, he was tackled with true precision and denied any mischief.  A corner did follow, the ball into the box saw a shot hit the head of a defender and ping off the bar where the rangy No 9 (Patrick Davin) waited and easily nutted home.  The travelling support were delighted, their erections of joy were duly bathed in a bromide of realisation as the liner waved his flag for an indiscretion - no goal, no boner!

The sands of time of this first period were now trickling away when a long ball for the West Warriors looked to be a hopeless cause.  Davin refused to be denied, he galloped on his lengthy pins, somehow rescued the ball on the end line and produced a low cross that saw  an incoming player look to pounce upon.  The backtracking No 6 (Fidan Hadjari) for the Purps lunged, contact was made, a red card brandished and a penalty given.  A double kick in the globes was given when Billingsley stepped up and slapped the ball home to bring the game back to all level - if ever a game turned in a twitch, this was it.  To add insult and rub spices and salts in the open wound, on the 48^th minute of the half WDC came again, No 8 (Harvey Roberts) had a pop from range and grabbed the leading goal for his side.  It was a sweet strike with sour results for the hosts, shit happens, the second half now appeared to be a real different prospect for all concerned.

A wander for the break, the backs were busting, we needed a stretch and a catch up with some fine Purple faves (not literally of course although Bill S was of shade bordering on a full bloom into autumnal verdancy - I blame the dirty magazines).  A fine natter with ardent fans down but not out, and a gift from local Big Bake Off Star Peawack - very kind mate.  Did you know that this gent once spent five months in a Holiday Inn with The Galloping Gourmet and learned to cook all manner of mouth-watering dishes.  From chips and egg to beans on a bap, the man's talents are limitless and all for a period of dedication and a few eclairs up the jacksie.  I suppose it could have been worse, I was once accosted by a Fanny Craddock based transvestite and am still suffering from a rectal souffle infection.  

Half two, and the early thrust came via the trailing team.  A striker darted, a tackle made, the guests broke with 2 cutting passes and a cross.  No 12 (Kristian Holt) appeared, the ball was fired home, the ultimate early body blow was delivered.  From here WDC controlled the general pace of the game, passed with care and patience and posted a few crosses that resulted in headers that should have produced more.  One such cross however resulted in a choice point blank save with the loose ball by Holt buried and the score duly increased to 1 - 4.

Credit where credit is due, the depleted home lads battled on and produced several minor threats  Another blow came soon after though when the player I considered most effective hobbled off and a forced sub was made.  Big up to their No 5 (Colyfa Kamara) who jumped like a kangaroo on steroids, dashed and darted like a nerve riddled ferret and read the game like a wise old owl all booted up.  On the game went, a COL sub nearly nipped in and at the other end Billingsley fired a shot just wide to make sure the hosts didn't get any crazy ideas of a comeback.

The game took on an expected pattern, the leading ranks were looking comfortable and were unlucky not to add a further strike.  Matthews latched onto a long ball and forced the resident No1 (Joseph Angus) to produce a solid block and soon after the keeper was forced into action again when a substitute moved in and fired low. 

The folding threads of the game unwound, during the last gasps the West went down to 10 men after losing a player to an injury and having no replacements left.  3 corners for the WDC mob resulted in bugger all, the Purp's No 2 (Joseph Cunningham) dashed at the last but finalised his efforts with a ruddy dire shot and that was indeed, that!

A cruel game with a single moment making all the difference. Man of the Match goes to the tireless trooper of West Didsbury and Chorlton, namely their No 11 (Billy Matthews). A superb commitment was shown throughout, great effort and a willingness to work both on and off the ball - no wonder he went of with a limp.  Great work and keep up the fine 'heads down' attitude and this will be a very profitable season.

We two wanderers headed home after farewells.  The roads were surprisingly quiet seeing that it was a Bank Holiday - this had been another good day out, some good species recorded, the legs stretched, 5 goals and sunshine - YES.

FINAL THOUGHTS - West Didsbury and Chorlton have a fair squad here and several players to really turn any game on its head.  This is a very tough and competitive league though and if I was picking my top six these would just be on the outside.  They played well today but it was against a team low on form and playing the most part with 10 men, judgement is impaired for sure.  They are not far off being a more competitive unit but they need to string a series of wins together pretty sharpish and keep their team intact.  I may be wrong but a top ten team is my hunch, but then Quasimodo had a hunch and it did him no good at all that is for sure - ooh the balls, the balls.  City of Liverpool are a conundrum.  I have seen them 3 times so far, they have some players of note, pass and play well but after today's game are rock bottom of the league.  This doesn't seem right but as Bruce Forsyth used to say 'points make prizes' and 'ooh Anthea give us a twirl'.  The latter catchphrase is irrelevant unless they are thinking of starting a new club called 'Generation Game Utd' and only using transvestite players.  The former catchphrase is spot on though and the Purple Pirates had better get pilfering some points very soon.  The are no pushovers in this league - I shall be watching their progress closely and catching them in the flesh very soon.

THE UNEXPECTED STATE OF THE EXPECTED

22nd August 2025 - Wythenshawe FC 3 v 3 Cheadle Heath Nomads - Another working week done, I had cracked on, was up to speed and had led a Clay Making Workshop with a few Young Carers.  Today I was jaded but after work had a cycle home via Fletcher Moss where I grabbed a coffee and recorded some insect life. Once home I input the sightings, had a sprawl with the missus, partook of a quick tea before being dropped off at this nearby ground.  Upon arrival I bagged a brew and nattered with local Non-League embezzlers Mr and Mrs X.  This couple I know have recently become involved with the Nomads, Mr X is now the secretary and Mrs X does all sorts of work here and there.  They are a lovely couple but their close contact with the local clubs coffers has seen them develop rich tastes and only the other night reports came in of them both being seen in a tucked away opium den, dressed in the finest silks and sipping champagne poured between the breasts of a Cheadle virgin.  This is all believable news except for snippet regarding the unblemished lady (I mean, come on, that is really stretching the truth). Upon hearing about this disreputable behaviour, I was a trifle shocked.  Tonight I noted both were smoking Cuban Cigars and Mr X had recently had a butt uplift.  The evidence is damning, how some people live.

And to the game proper, positions were duly chosen, Mrs X asked me if I wanted one of her Baluga caviar hors d'oeuvres, I declined and had a spam butty instead whilst watching the opening hoofings in this FA Vase encounter.

After the initial feeling out process the first team to muster any menace were the hosts with a lengthy ball finding No 11 (Darius Palmer) who cut in with ease, delivered a floating cross that the keeper neatly dealt with.  The Nomads did well to respond with No 7 (Kaylan Wilkinson) out wide and posting a ball that needed some observant defending.  From here the guests won and wasted a corner and then Wythy's No 7 (Aaron Dwyer) flashed away, worked inside and sent a shot over the timber.  Now that was a warning.

The contest was warming up nicely with the underdogs more than holding their own.  Corners and free-kicks came and went, the home No 10 (Brian Ly) received a low pass and cracked one off without hesitation.  The shot was deflected wide and the angled hoof was well defended.  Back and forth we went with the closest to any penetration coming when No 11 (Edson Cata) for the Cheadle chaps was the apical component and whom sent forth a shot that was saved with relative ease.

The game looked fairly settled when out of the great capricious blue the visiting No 6 (Hal McHugh) hit a fine ball to Cata who received with noteworthy attention and duly dashed forth with the strike zone well and truly in sight.  Space was running out, composure was maintained and after a brief look the ball was buried - a fine goal laden with the unexpected - for the neutral like me, it was the perfect start.

This was a pace riddled game and the guests were doing just fine.  A Nomads corner, the delivery was superb, No 4 (Callum Graham) appeared - wham, bam, and shit flavoured jam (well, for the hosts at least) - 2 goals to the Nomads in what was turning into a high-end shocker. Soon after the short-distance travellers were marauding forth again.  In and out the ball went, a shot fizzed wide, a follow-on corner was bilge.  

Wythenshawe were just on the cusp of losing their cool when a corner was won.  The posting of the ball into the realms of potential peril brought a moment of confusion, the team on the back foot were happy to hoof clear.  A free-kick followed, the Nomads keeper held without fuss. After sustained pressure a long ball for the hosts came.  Palmer was away, the guest keeper was out and a foul was committed.  The card brandished was of egg-yolk tones - it could have been much worse.  The free-kick was taken by Ly, the ball scooted mere inches wide.

Next, and another long ball came for the hosts. Palmer took possession with great artistry and control, a pass came and No 7 (Aaron Dwyer) only needed to cut in, set the sights and kaboom, the netting was bulged and the game was now back on.  Within mere seconds No 8 (Kamoy McNair) cracked forth a driller that wasn't a killer but which the keeper did well to get down to, gather and keep his team just ahead.  The final flings of a good half came with no further strikes - the second half was set up nicely.

Mr and Mrs X left me for a while whilst they nipped off to do who knows what? I was happy to nibble a Granola Bar and have a natter with the Nomad's photographer Mark.  A fine chap this with a collection of Wilfred Bramble tattoos second to none.  He also has a John Inman scrawling on his left testicle that he seems to be rather shy about - in this day and age of so-called liberated thinking I think a tribute should be paid to the said nut as a nod to some forward thinking ahead of its time.  In fact I am going to write a letter to the Nomads Chairman and see if we can get a Giant Teste erected outside the ground with the word's 'I'm Free' emblazoned across it.  Ooh what would old Mr Grace say?

Half two, an early Wythy free boot brought no joy and nearly resulted in disaster when Cheadle broke via their rapido Wilkinson who really should have done more than finalise with a somewhat shitty cross.  The hosts reacted, a low shot the end result, the Nomad's No 1 (Joseph Lawlor) once more saving well.

The rising tide of home-based impetus was now seeing the game played in one half of the field.  The only release for the leading team saw Wilkinson again, bust a bollock, dart into the box with no options available.  A similar dash gave rise to a free-kick which fizzled out before a somewhat subdued period came.  Dwyer had a punt that was straight at the keeper but all in all, very few chances came. 

Time edged along, the trailing pack were just lacking the creative touch and the team with their noses in front were doing enough to quell any rising threat.  The game stuttered away, like Patrick Campbell on whizz in fact (ooh Call My Bluff).  Eventually matters picked up, the guests had to clear a shot off the line and gasp and grasp as they held on to their slender advantage when... a break came. Wilkinson was charging with purpose and then finding himself with a goal chance to grab.  The outcome was a fine taken strike and a great celebration from a team who were riding the crest of a wave.  The problem with crests though, is that they are easily fallen if care is not taken.

Now the Wythenshawe unit worked with high industry and a serious degree of panic.  A free-kick was won, Dwyer whacked the ball towards the wall which parted quicker than the buttocks of Liberace at a stag do.  Thankfully for the Nomads penetration was lacking ( I think the said key-tapper had nay such problems).  Wythy came again, the attack was swift, cutting and precise.  The cross that came left all standing except No 9 (Darrhyl Mason) who tapped home and brought high hopes to his fellow battlers.  There were only 6 minutes left plus added - cripes.

The finale was all frenzied action, Dwyer had a pop that went across goal and brought great gasps from the crowd that had me checking the groin area of the aforementioned Mark in the worry that is left plum had made an unexpected cameo appearance.  As I averted my eyes from the ball-free realm to that where the sphere was the focus of all I witnessed a handball shout get waved away, more balls enter the Nomads box and then, Dwyer attempt a ludicrous overhead kick and clatter the bar.

Luck seemed to be on the visiting tribes side when, on the 96th minute a ball was played, the Nomads were seen to be all too static and in No 6 (Fraser Goodwin) stepped to level the game, break many a hope and put the contest into the penalty shoot out stage.  The pressure was heaped onto the Nomads by the shovel load, the penalties came with the guests up first.  McHugh buried, Wythy's Ly equalised.  A Nomads sub was denied by a great save, Mason put his side in front for the first time all night. Another  Nomads sub levelled, Wythy No 4 (Steven Hewitt) poked his team ahead. The next Nomads replacement blasted over and then Dwyer had his shot saved.  Wilkinson for the Nomads had to score to keep things alive and he did so with ease and then we saw Wythy's Cata step up and have the game to win.  The ball was struck, the keeper committed and the onlookers pondered - the net bulged, the hosts had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat - the jubilant scenes were awash with great relief - wow.

Game done, what a cracker and for me the Man of the Match must go the Cheadle Heath Nomads No 7 (Kaylan Wilkinson) who was a constant threat, a real menace and a quick and forward thinking component in a hard working and unfortunate team.  The goal was deserved, here's to a good season fella.

FINAL THOUGHTS - I was fagged after this one, it had been a real humdinger with the potential of a cup upset just snuffed out at the very last.  Cheadle Heath Nomads will do OK this season, they play with good discipline, have pace and a good level of industry and just need the odd tweak to make them a real threat.  An out an out striker, a commanding force at the rear and they will be close to the finished article. If they play with the passion shown tonight though they may have enough to bag a top 6 finish.  Wythenshawe have just dropped back into the North West Counties Premier League - they will be in the mix come the end of the season but this is not a given.  Tonight they showed vulnerabilities and at times, just overplayed matters.  They have the players and enough experience to overcome this but it will take hard work, dedication and some consistency.  A cup run could be a blessing or a curse, they could go on a good roll in this year's Vase though, how that will affect their league form is anyone's guess - I wish them all the best.

NB:  On the way home I noted Mr and Mrs X being picked up in a Limo - the disgust didn't override the joys of witnessing a darn good cup tie.