23rd November 2018 - Chadderton FC 1 v 2 Prestwich Heys - Of late I have been catching up on the horror movie front, an art-form I have enjoyed since my informative years and one that has perpetually kept the noggin entertained and twisted. 'The Ghoul' from 1975 and 'The Frozen Dead' from 1966 have been the recent cinematic jaunts taken, the first sounding like a non-league strike as pronounced by a Geordie goon, the second quite pertinent and perhaps best describing the state of my testicles after sitting and watching tonight's match - cor blimey the chilliness of it all. As I dragged my carcass from the car into the cold night air, I ambled like a Frankensteinian creature to the hole in the wall and duly partook of the life-inducing brew. A few folk were already in attendance, wrapped up like wannabe Im-Ho-Teps, with the hope of resisting the invading frosted tendrils. STP Stu was in-situ and we duly went into the club bar, supped and swilled whilst partaking on some Red Velvet Cup Cakes. We were confectionery vampires tonight, sinking fangs into sugared flesh and extracting the sweet gifts found therein - welcome to my castle of toothsome content, I bid you....welcome. It was all very cosy but into the darkened night we had to wander, like footballing Werewolves summoned by the call of the whistle rather than the pull of the lunar orb. Positions had, we watched the two competing tribes take to the field and prepare to kick up sods, make haste and hopefully feed upon their opponents energy like a Succubus on heat.
The target of everyone's urgency was pounced upon, the sphere pounded here and there with No 11 (William Shawcross) of the home team dashing straight down the flank and putting in a cross. A touch back found the feet of No 9 (Harry Pratt) who sent in a dipping effort that was neatly tipped over. The corner was easily dealt with but Chaddy kept on coming like irrepressible Zombies of Reaction, no matter how hard The Heys tried to settle the next wave of the onslaught came with crosses, free-kicks and zipping passes all adding to the initial pressure. One ball in particular was played by the home No 2 (Kyle McGovern) it carved open the Hey's defensive flesh like a Freddie Kruger talon down the flesh of a dreaming virgin, was this the moment the blood of triumph would flow. A shot came, the keeper did enough but Shawcross popped up like a bad dream and looked to jab home at the near post - the defensive block was straight out of the uppermost drawer - fantastic. Eventually Prestwich worked and made a move, No 11 (Rio Wilson-Heyes) flew forth, a triumvirate of defending bods were outmaneuvered and a dig at the target was had. The mittman parried, the ball went astray and in stepped No 8 (Adam Farrell) to tap home the presented gift.
Chadderton refused to buckle from this blow against the flow and started to build once more. Heys gained possession and broke away with Wilson-Heyes doing his deviant stuff, laying one off and seeing an extra pass find the feet of No 4 (Liam Healey) who popped one just high of the horizontal. Another warning for Chadderton, take heed lads, 'They're coming to get you Barbara'. A free kick came from a balanced period, the hosts were the recipients and a good ball into a melee was had. From the mush of seeming confusion No 4 (Jordan Butterworth) put bonse on ball, the top of the bar was clattered - a real shame. Heys came back and began to take on the role of The Boston Strangler and apply a certain pressure that looked to suffocate their opponents hopes. Chadderton struggled and squirmed and put up decent resistance which made for a scrappy tussle. The elastic of the footballing underpants was twanged in the grappling with several loose balls exposed. Suddenly the guests captured the attention with a lightning release, Wilson-Heyes was the Van-Helsing of the moment and provided a much needed cross. The ball invaded the box, a nut rose, connected, rustled net - 0 - 2 and as easy as A, B, C. The executioner was No 7 (Bradley Sixsmith), his teammates looked overjoyed. From here until the halftime whistle Prestwich played within their comfort zone, Healey had a chance to close the coffin lid on the outcome but proved trigger shy and the opportunity disappeared into the slightly misted night. Another close shave soon after came via a cross that skinned a few scalps and then we were done - not a bad do at all methinks.
A wander for a brew, man was it needed, a cup cake and a chinwag, we had all made pre-match predictions and we all still had a chance of getting the result bang on the button - stick with it folks, this could be a first!
Part 2 began with the hosts fizzing like an acid bath victim (cue Vincent Price in Scream and Scream Again), The Heys Machine played the measured game and plotted and planned their next attack like a certain oriental master criminal (cue Boris Karloff in The Mask of Fumanchu). An assault duly came, it was with rapier-sincerity and ended with No 10 (Christopher Baguley) attempting to sidefoot home, the block on the line brought a blast of relief from the home teams lungs who dashed down the other end with No 7 (Samuel Riley) providing the finishing hoof. The keeper sprawled and made the save look easier than it was. The ball stayed in play, a cross failed to be connected with but eventually another shot came that just couldn't find the underside of the bar! The Heys came back, a quite stunning move saw 4 blindingly quick passes finish with a cross that was akin to a toothless Count Yorga - no bite at all. This was now a very competitive game, Chadderon came again, Shawcross weaved in, a lovely shot followed, the visiting No 1 (Michael Smith) provided an equally attractive save. The ball went out, No 15 (Jack Ward) had a punt, over! The visitors resisted, stood their ground like a resolute Golem, Ward had another dig for the hosts but again the gloved guardian did what was required and soon after he was in the right place at the right time when the opposing No 10 (Ryan Shenton) nutted close in.
Now the game heated up, Heys put three successive balls into the box, each one stretching the defense like the victim's limbs on a Poe created rack (Bela Lugosi from The Raven would be loving this). Chadderton still forced the issue, Shenton headed one over which looked a real chance to get one back, but then when the same team came gain, Shawcross advanced, indulged in a shimmy and a shake and put one at the feet of No 8 (James Dwyer) who would have believed the outcome, Dwyer took one look, launched a ball that curved through the embryonic autumnal brume and found the top corner of the net with artistic quality. A stunner, and, as in the words of a regenerated Jimmy Saville - 'now then, now then what have we here' (now that's horrific). Heys now looked skeletal (rattled), a low driller killer for Chaddy's Ward could have caused severe pain but it was too direct to cause the keeper any consternation. We now entered The Twilight Zone, the last 15, was there a twist in the tale (add theme tune here)? Shawcross for the hosts thought there might be, he came forth twisted and turned, cut in and once again found the keeper had read matters the right way - the shot though should have had more venom me thinks (check out Jacqueline Pearce in The Reptile - now that's venomous). The game rolled on, a few half chances came at both ends but when the final whistle sounded a just share of the points had been denied and Prestwich had seen this one out and bagged the booty. Man of the Match will go to the Prestwich Heys No 1 (Michael Smith) for a reliable and quite convincing stint between the uprights. He made things look easier than they were, read the game well at all times and certainly made sure the 3 points went down the road - a decent goalkeeping effort if you ask me.
FINAL THOUGHT - A rare Friday night venture out, well worth it and although we went home feeling like Abominable Snowmen, and creaked and groaned like arthritic creatures of the night, this one had been enjoyed. Chadderton put much into their play, they have several player's who really do excel and add flamboyance whenever needed, have a good injection of pace and are keen to advance. The overall team though always frustrates and many a time just doesn't deliver what it promises. I think this is set to change and a good run of form is just around the corner. They are currently 17th, I expect them, come season end, to be at least 6 places better off than this - keep working chaps. Prestwich Heys for me are an annual top 6 performing side and have a nucleus of players that will always put them in good stead. They are gradually shambling up the table like an emerging Behemoth and I think some real waves will be made in the coming months. They play with patience, have a noticeable resilience and seem to ride a hazardous storm mighty well and come out the other end with a surprise or two for attackers with impetus. They, along with their opponents, will no doubt be viewed several more times over the course of the coming campaign, as per, keep yer eye on this B-Movie football and enjoy every nuance, blemish and the naturalistic beauty!
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