Sunday 30 December 2018

THE FUNGAL THREE SEE

29th December 2018 - Alsager Town 0 v 5 FC Oswestry The last football excursion of the year, this time with my missus and young un' and to the home of The Bullets to witness a game that was up in the air as far as the scoreline goes (what's new there then).  My lasses nipped into Manchester in the morn, poor old me was left to tidy up and see to some loose ends (loose ends as in outstanding tasks to complete rather than an overabundance of flaccid foreskin to tuck away).  My lasses arrived home, we got sorted and set out down the M6 to the tucked away potteries-based pimple known as Alsager.  The weather was the norm and akin to the arse hairs of Anne Widdecombe - grey, slightly damp and without much promise of change (crikey where's me Prozac).   Into the ground, parked and a walk top the local shops was had. My bladder went twang and the bushes of the local Asda were duly watered - it is another mark on my 'Great British PIddle Map'. Back to the ground, tea had (and a burger for me as I had had no dinner) and selected seating was had.  As the teams warmed up we three pootlers chatted and made our predictions which I shall keep under wraps so as to save any unnecessary embarrassment. The Prize of Prophecy will be secret also as I can't for the life of me think what it should be - ooh me noggin. 3pm came, the two sides appeared, the end result of all the clashing, kicking and confrontation is as follows, I hope this poor man's football erotica serves its purpose!

Game on, the visitors began with zipping zest, an hopeful ball came from the back, was collected and crossed whereupon an indecent upending took place and a penalty given.  Again no consideration was given to player's not being at full match speed and that the tackle was not as untoward as initially deemed.  The referee was duly labelled as 'useless' by an irate fan, I was sure at some point he would be upgraded to 'wanker' at the very least.   Up stepped the No 10 (David Howarth) to get the opening goal and duly buried the ball with relative comfort - the home lads now had to wake up, shake off the early game stiffness and kick back.  Alsager gained a foothold, passed well and put in a few crosses one of which nearly dropped from the grubby skies and entered the framework - the mittman did well to tip over.  The corner that followed caused in-box mayhem with the ball pinging and a shot blocked.  The O's eventually broke with a final cross getting firmly volleyed by the eternally impressive No 7 (Harry Bower). The strike was sugar sweet, the corner of the net found - one could almost feel the bruising on the home team's conkers as this surprise double dig caught them on the hop.  The guests were far from sated, they came again, the home keeper was caught on walkabout and wide-eyed with blood-rushing particles of panic.  Bower crossed, the shot that followed was blocked and Alsager just about hung on.  The home lads were still in this, they just needed a little extra movement in and around the box and some encouraging on-pitch verbals to get things flowing.  


Next up, No 9 (Michael O'Reilly) of the travellers put in some stubborn and eye-snagging work and was rewarded with a free-kick.  He took the bonus boot himself - it was a poxy way to finish such an excellent moment with the ball just flying into the Land of No Man.  Moments later Bower was causing defensive consternation for the hosts when he touched back and released. The ball was deflected for a corner, the angled kick was abysmal - The Bullets needed to fire back and fire back very soon.  They did just that, No 3 (Jamie Evans) was in, the ball was blocked and fell to No 7 (Jack Hurd) who put forth a veritable rasper - wide it went, but hope was had.  A quiet spell came, Hurd had another dig, again not that far off the mark but not good enough at this desperate stage.  As the impetus looked to be swinging towards the ambitions of the trailing side a goal kick came the other way.  Bower took it down, touched out to No 11 (Ryan Jones) who eyed the goal and unleashed, 0 - 3 it was and this game looked done, dusted and filed away in the folder marked 'whooping'.  Despite the 3 goal deficit I thought No 6 (Connor Taylor) of Alsager was having a fine game and looked a very accomplished player with a good reading of the game and a certain calmness and control.  From the back the hosts built, a free-kick came late in the half and No 5 (Ryan Goodwin) snuck in the crust with oodles of time to hit the target zone - the outcome was an effort that was not even close.  Before the half-time bell Bower had a chance to make it 4 when he latched onto a pass, cut in and slapped in a low driller.  The keeper sprawled and just got a foot to the ball to minimise the half-time roasting and when O'Reilly for the guests slapped one straight at the said keeper it was with great relief that the intermission came.   


A dash for tea and a leak was had, the lasses had a water break too and then we resumed our seats and wondered where this one would end up.


Oswestry made the early running in the second half, a couple of firm shots by Jones flew into the sable beyond but indicated the intent of adding further injury to a very wounded team. A
 static period came from which the home No 9 (Dominic Smith) burst forth like a souped up bulldozer and barged his way to the end line where he duly belted in a meaty cross.  It was a shame that no outstretched toe was there to nudge the ball home!  Another cross came within minutes, the keeper caught, dropped and saw the situation rescued - the man was one lucky customer.  Smith had a dig next, the keeper this time made a steady save, a bit more bite on the ball though and things could have been a little different!  Alsager were now doing well and picking up the tempo but an Oswestry escape broke the flow and an immediate break down the flank by the substitute (Samuel Springson) saw some marvellous work end with a step in and a shot that beat the mittman at the near post and finish the game as a viable contest.  The home team still tried to get a goal though, one moment deserved such a reward when Taylor put forth a delectable pass that No 10 (Stanley Anaebonam) cracked with ardour only to be denied by a well-timed save.  A corner of decent standard followed but the visiting tribe were disciplined and 'on it' - there seemed no way through for the trailing unit.


Into the home run, a cross was fumbled by the resident keeper but his defending comrades spared his blushes and then O'Reilly sent forth a low dipper that bounced up at the last and made sure the man between the sticks stayed honest and alert and that his nighttime vision was at its best.  This was now one way traffic, the O's No 12 (Reece Taylor) whacked one wide, Bower had a close-in touch that clipped the framework and then, after an Alsager push, a breakaway came, Bower was at the helm again and turned and twatted to bring up the 5th and round off a good day's work.  The closing seconds ticked away and then we were done, there was only one Man of the Match, FC Oswestry's No 7 (Harry Bower) who played with such industry, moved into space at all times and read the game with a true footballing eye.  He was far from a lazy git and worked forward and backward with an appetite to admire - a cracking run out if ya ask me.  


FINAL THOUGHT - And that was that, a result not expected and one that can be interpreted as thus.  Alsager Town have a pack of good players, several looked solid in possession and many ran themselves ragged but, and what a great stinking 'but' it is, without cohesion, hollered demands and much off-the-ball scampering the end result will always be a struggle and give opponents the upperhand before a ball is even kicked.  Today the team battled but lacked options and when in the final third just seem to lack support and ideas when the detonation button was due to be pressed.   They are not far off the mark but just not on it either - I am due to watch them again soon with a tricky visit to Vauxhall Motors - they need to buckle down, play with width and get talking.  FC Oswestry are an impressive unit and for me are lower in the league than their potential suggests.   They communicate, play with good impetus and pass and move with commendable urgency and defend as a pack offering opponents little chance to shoot.  It will be interesting to see what the season brings for a team very much on the up.  The
key is to keep the squad healthy and confident and even if the odd hiccup is had, to keep the whole unit laden with belief.  This football management lark is no easy thing, I am a mere punter on the touchline trying to keep folk enthused, those at the helm have my respect and spare tranquilisers to help them through.  So a good day out, a welcoming place and 5 goals to add to the season's tally - as per...onwards for all and a Happy New Year to each and every Non-League doofer - you are sincerely appreciated and blessed!

Wednesday 26 December 2018

BLOOD, THUNDER, OH BOLLOCKS IT'S A DRAW

26th December 2018 - Cheadle Heath Nomads 1 v 1 Cheadle Town - And so, in theory Christmas has gone and today is the day when the conned dispose of the coin, the overstuffed try and walk off the extra inch or two and those in the know get out and get a fix of Non-League action.  Our Christmas had been fine despite the boiler blowing on Christmas Eve and therefore leaving us void of hot water and heating.  The lasses will have to cleanse themselves at the Mother-In-Laws, I, like the eternal awkward bugger, have opted for a post-festive stink in the hope of cultivating a bodily fungus I can identify on the 1st of January and therefore start the wildlife year off with a species new to science.  Cockus rankeroonos, Festeritis nippleoides or even Rectalitis crapodea - the hunt will start soon, anyone wishing to attend the physical foray needs to book on now!  So, after a morn shaking off the dust and detritus a walk was add looking at the birds, spotting a few shrooms and generally stretching the carcasses.  My young daughter, home from Uni, opted for hibernation mode and only surfaced at 11.30am - she missed 3 Great Spotted Woodpeckers and a classic example of Stubble Rosegill (Volvariella speciosa) amongst many others - she seemed unconcerned.   An early dinner was had, a quick change and a dip of the testicles in some icy water (gotta be fair to the public don't ya know) and out we went to feast our peepers on this fascinating local match-up.  Both teams operate within less than a mile of one another, Cheadle Heath Nomads are virginal upstarts making a name for themselves, Cheadle Town are long term soccer slags and are well-versed in the heave-ho at this level - it was a mouth-watering match up and one not to be missed.  The crowd was healthy enough (mind you one or two didn't look particularly fresh of face) and the weather was more than clement.  Me and my grand lady, arrived, nattered, park rears and watch the following event.  

The first foray into territory deemed threatening came via the steaming legs of the home pack with No 9 (Ashley Harrison) fast on his feet and No 11 (Stephen Kirby) the veritable slippery sausage.  Alas after the initial huff and puff a goal kick was the end result but soon after No 10 (Leon Grandison) got upended in a far from sexual way and a free boot was won.  Grandison sent in a nicely weighted cross, the keeper sprawled low and smothered and took a wallop to his framework for his troubles (Happy Boxing Day sir).  Cheadle tried to respond from the early advances with No 10 (Connor Naughton) producing a nice turn and pass movement that just failed to find the galloping striker.  The home keeper (Aaron Tyler) was off his line with great haste and did well to kill the peril.  From another Town sortie the Nomadic lads broke with frazzling impetus.  Grandison ran the flank, reached the end line, cut back and laid one off for No 8 (Keiren Herbert) to thwack.   The power was raw, the timing sweet, the elevation too generous - just off target the ball went.  In return to this neat move No 2 (Joseph Neild) of the short-travelling guests knocked forth a quite choice pass that No 7 (Nathan Ntalu) collared in the corner and belted across.  Several chances to shoot came but when a shank was swung with any real purpose the defensive block that followed was indicative of the home teams desire.  It was a good job the ball didn't hit the crown jewels though or we may have been witnessing the first on-pitch black puddings of the game!

Spiced tackles now came, Herbert for the Nomads was a real needle in the nob-bag and forced a few opposing players to lunge and mistime their efforts.  Kirby took a free-kick that was hard earned but could only find yuletide air, another shot soon after boomed off the bar but this time luck was with the attacking side and the ball kindly dropped to the predatory Grandison who slotted home and got the crucial lead.  This was a deserved lead as the Nomads had made the greatest contribution to the impetus of the game and soon after they were racing forth again with Kirby putting in a trademark cross of meritorious quality that failed to be met by an in-flying noggin.  The Town were quick to wake up, a long ball saw the home No 4 (Ashley Crank) lunge and bring down a danger-laden striker.  The shouts that came for a red card were vulgar, the brandishing of a yellow fortunate for the offender and after a few shoves and pushes and several sequinned purses waved about a free-kick came of accurate and high quality.  The keeper sprung from his heels and tipped the ball onto the bar, the globe went loose and somehow was hoofed clear but this game had new life and a good thermality - questions were being asked of both ranks!

As the battling elements continued to generate sparks a double-ended dildo of misfortune entered the untoward orifice of luck for the hosts and saw Grandison hobble off with a twanged hamstring and his replacement get given a straight red card for a tackle that was mistimed and primarily down to the player not having got to grips with the pace of the game.  The decision was made without regard for this latter point, something that seems to happen on a regular basis.  Now the Nomadic jugular was exposed, The Town were sensing blood and a late corner for the guests saw the host's No 6 (Zac Tyson) defend with ardour and the visiting Naughton hit back in a close-in snap-shot that went just wide.  1 - 0 we were at as the referee called for a break - a fascinating contest to say the least!

We stayed put for half-time, watched the club secretary appear at the other side of the ground with microphone in hand.  Neville 'The Voice' Pearson did well to contain his enthusiasm and avoided a Roy Orbison impersonation and simply read out the raffle draw.  We were 2 numbers away, so much for sending nude pictures of myself to the chairman.  After a nibble of some orange chocolate we watched the teams reappear - could the 10 men hold on.  Could their opponents get back into this?  Will the aforementioned Mr Pearson appear at full-time dressed as the big 'O' and send us home to the thoes of 'Blue Bayou' - one never knows!

The second period began with an early Cheadle Town free-kick which was easily dealt with but quickly followed by a sharp cross from Neild that just dipped over the bar.  A corner next which was nutted out and put back in by No 8 (Laurence Taylor).  Naughton connected with the cranium, the header was not even close.  A Nomads break kept The Town honest, Herbert blazed a trail, put a pass in to No 7 (Jack Benson) who could only thump into the side-netting. A patchy period was had, a Town break was unexpected and the dash down the line and cross from Ntalu was done in the spasm of a sensation seeker's electrified nipple and the poke home by Taylor was precise and exuded a sharpshooters class.  Now then, this was getting serious! The fight for supremacy was intense, the guests had a counterattack with No 3 (Robert Wallis) at the helm but lacking welly in the shot and allowing the mitter to block,  At the other end Kirby led a charge and cross with cultured grace that found Herber who touch and belted in one fluent move.  The tip onto the bar by No 1 (Daniel Whiting) was top notch, that was some chance!  

Crosses, corners and shots now came with increasing frequency at each end, the defensive units held firm with The Nomads under greatest pressure and showing a resilience and stout inner unified ticker.  3 corners for The Town came almost on the bounce, one saw a shot pushed wide, another saw a crust get deflected over and the final one induce a bout of bagatelle that eventually got booted away.  The best chance of the half so far came via a host's break that saw Kirby have a glimpse of an open goal after the keeper went walkabout.  The chance to bury was fluffed and was followed by another break that culminated in a toe poke just off target and then a corner that was just palmed away by the well-extended keeper.  Ntalu for the visitors had two chances in response, the first seemed a surefire strike but was cleared off the line, the second a header that looked certain to be buried but the finishing was nothing less than 'crap'.  Sandwiched between these two major moments Harrison had a chance for the resident pack when a quality cross just needed nutting into either corner - the end result was atrocious.  The final seconds ticked away with urgent desperation - the game soon ended and a draw was perhaps fair with all things considered.   Man of the Match goes to the Cheadle Heath Nomad's No 8 (Kieren Herbert) for an absolutely gut-busting effort that lasted the full 90 minute period and showcased what effort and passion actually goes into these matches.  He deserved a goal for his industry and trouble-making talent - on another day...who knows!  We two pootlers buggered off impressed and looking forward to the return - now there's one to ponder!

FINAL THOUGHT - A few questions were raised today, a few answers given - these are my thoughts!  Cheadle Town, after a dodgy period seem to be realigned, stabilised and back on the right track in this utterly unpredictable league.   Today they had to battle for the point against a fired up unit who are ravenous for every scrap and who certainly dig in when the chips are down.  Playing against 10 men who are prone to flashing counter-punches is no easy thing, I think the lads did well to get what they did and several players exuded that extra touch of quality that will see the team win more than they lose.  The Nomads, with 11 men on the park and a full compliment of first team regulars may have won this if the truth be told and must be looking forward to the next encounter with hopes elevated and the gnashers chomping at the bit.   The work ethic today was exemplary, the focus zoned in and the desire there for all to see.   This needs to happen week in and week out though and if they want 3 points next time they won't be given it on a plate.  This league never fails to surprise and entertain, for 5 nuggets a piece we got 90 minutes of good football and a natter with some down to earth football folk who love the game for the right reasons.  I also sold one of my Nettle Books (thank you Mr Pearson), saw a Ring Necked Parakeet and found a fungus on my Oriental Eye that may be new to science - what a great festive treat!  Next thrilling installment will come from Alsager Town - tune in again in a few days for more scribbled passion!

Sunday 23 December 2018

FESTIVE FOOTBALL

22nd December 2018 - Abbey Hey 0 v 1 City of Liverpool  - Christmas is coming, ye old Santa is a twat, he is a ruddy faced pisspot, and his arse is too fat but...if he has a non-league heart, then these two teams need a gift, a very merry 3 points, would be an ideal and thoughtful lift - then again...Santa doesn't exist, if you want 3 points you gotta work for them and when in the mire or on top of the tree on the pre-festive run-in, the effort has to be extra special.  After a morn of sorting moth pictures, exercising and preparing some flyers for the night's gig I got sorted, had a good dinner and packed my bag ready for out.  The good lady and my fine daughter dropped me off today, leaving me to wallow in another footy match and scribble my notes.  I met up with Rob York (Stockport Town Club Secretary and nude after dinner speaker), Abbey Hey Pete put in an appearance (ex-con now on bail after an incident with a rolled up copy of 'Wrinkled Rings' and a blacked-up conservative MP) and a few COL fans who bade me welcome and looked forward to the game ahead.  I heard that prior to the game there would have been free home made Mince Pies on offer but the guy who made them was dyslexic and had ruffled the feathers of the local Women's Lib group by using a 'G' instead of a 'C' when labeling the aforementioned treats.  Oh the poor bugger but now I understand the message I got pre-game from a bloke asking me to go for a drink in a nearby 'Pubic House' - phew that could have been one hairy experience and I got off with a relative close shave there methinks.

And to the game, two teams in the same league, poles apart - pre-match thoughts were of a whipping, I was hoping the home side could do themselves justice but was also hoping the guests would get a win after being threatened with a lifetime ban from the club after watching them twice of late and seeing them get beat both times (my only viewings of the team this season).  I took up my position, scribbled in earnest - etc. etc. etc.

The first attack from the grotty conditions came via the COL crew with No 9 (Craig Cairns) rifling one and forcing a firm and reliable save.  An angled kick followed, the cross was choice but all necks were too short and the ball went into the dead zone.  Seconds later the same team were marauding forth once more with the pocket rocket No 8 (Jack Hazelhurst) hurdling through and sending in a shot that was blocked at the death.  The Heys were under pressure, the pre-match script was being followed but a rush against the tide was had when the defiant No 7 (Keiron Dale) duly earned a corner.  The ball in was right into the meat of the matter but the keeper rose and displayed to all and sundry a ruddy good pair of hands.  From here a rapier response was had, No 11 (Francis Foy) moved like a gazelle and stroked a ball into the box that led to a corner which produced a disappointing sour FA.  The game now balanced out as Abbey Hey gave a good account of themselves against a darn fine team and on a day that you wouldn't find Judith Chalmers sun-bathing on (thank goodness).  In fact Heys came mighty close when a corner came and their No 5 (Jamie McLellan) put a firm crust on the ball that the mitter had to deal with just at the last - he must have been mighty relieved to see it creep over the horizontal.

Onwards, the skies darkened, the waft of green was forever on the air and the game was awaiting the birth of the first goal.  Cairns had a penalty claim waved away and then a shot soon after was blocked and fell to Foy to bury.  He eyed the goal, took a fraction of a second too long to send in the strike and when the ball left the boot it was strongly defended by a 'never say die' rear guard pack.  As The Purps roamed forward No 11 (Taylor Maguire) for The Hey picked up on a loose ball, darted and shot.  The ball went straight at the keeper, crept through his legs but was just recovered at the very last - the mittman was a man dipped in high favour, that could have been a real old Betty Blooper.  At the other end No 10 (Jamie McDonald) poked one wide, and after a cross from Hazelhurst, Foy connected quite beautifully but his volley had too much weight and sailed into the ghastly murk. The half ended with the guests on top but the hosts were showcasing a hefty resilience with their No 4 (Stephen Solademi) a stalwart and a solid brick in an admirable wall.

Half-time - a cuppa and a chat.  The temperature was fair but the clouds burst and a downpour caught a few on the hop as they scurried to the clubhouse for a selected beverage.  Mr York pootled off at this point as he was having a festive tattoo on his left conker - something to do with Terry Wogan and Enoch Powell I think - some people hey!

The match re-started, the COL chaps were on it with Hazelhurst dragged down and a free-kick on the corner of the box earned.  The punt in was cleared but soon after we had a repeat situation. This time the cross was choice but the nut from Hazelhurst failed to hit the target and went just wide.  A corner was not long in coming, two firm shots were blocked by a well-flung defense and then a third dig was just knocked over.   The Heys were riding the Hobby Horse of Fortune, The Purps were looking to grab the same nag by the dangling dong and squeeze out the odd pip of success - things were still up for grabs.  A quiet spell came, suddenly a shot cum cross was fizzed forth by the COL sub, No 12 (Kris Owens).   The ball rattled the upright, the home No 4 was caught rushing in and duly deflected the ball into his own net - what a tragedy for a player having such a strong and impressive game and a side putting in a very defiant stint.  The Purps deserved the lead for sure, twas just a shame it had to come this way via an own goal - cruel indeed!

The game now whizzed by, another downpour adding to the home teams struggle.  Abbey Hey dug deep and had a period of semi-success but their opponents are no mugs and were always threatening whenever the slightest chance arose.  One move by the visitors was a liquid zenith and made The Hey lads work like Trojans to avoid a killer strike.  No 2 ( Luke Denson) for the travellers knocked the next choice ball that saw Hazelhurst chase and duly get bungled over.  The gratis dig came, was tipped up and just about cleared with the AH pack having a brief break that was snuffed out with regimented defending.  The final throes were played out with much industry but no real danger was exposed.  At the death Cairns for the City of Liverpool could have full-stopped matters but the solid shot that came was dragged just wide. The referee blew soon after, farewells were had and my choice for Man of the Match goes to the City Of Liverpool's No 2 (Luke Denson) for a well-drilled, unsophisticated but very effective performance that was a veritable cornerstone on which his team could build.  Sometimes it is the things that aren't quite so obvious that bring the end reward!

FINAL THOUGHT - This was a clash between the top and the bottom, a supposed small time David and Goliath encounter that saw Goliath forced to work his knackers off and with much effort and desire finally floor the smaller man with moment of good fortune.  Abbey Hey's season, judging on this evidence is not done and, with the same guts and grinding passion they can get out of their very tricky predicament and stay in this ever competitive Premier League. Their No 4 ( Stephen Solademi) was a rock, their commitment testament to what the North West Counties Leagues are about and with some fine tuning upfront and a few midfield manipulations this can surely lead to the cracking of the opposing defenses the Hey Brigade becoming a team to be reckoned with over the coming months.  Their next fixture is a bottom-based battle and could just define their future!  The City of Liverpool needed this today, a game where things just wouldn't fall right, where the shitty weather separated the delicate from the determined and where they had to work like neglected donkeys to earn the end carrot.   I think they passed the test with flying colours and dug in and got the result they deserved.  They should win this league but it is good that the Congo are keeping them honest and making them earn their stripes.  There is work to be done, you'd be a fool to back against this lot and good luck to em'.  The good news for me is that with this win I avoid the aforementioned ban and I can catch up with them again real soon - surely my pleasure.  

PS - Have a good Christmas folks, watch out for Santa emptying his sack in your pillow and if you are insistent on stuffing your turkey - wear a condom!

Tuesday 18 December 2018

THE INTENSITY OF THE CUP

17th December 2018 - Widnes FC 2 v 1 City of Liverpool  - The 1st round of the Liverpool Senior Cup, a chance to catch up with the Widnes crew after they had progressed from the North West Counties League into the Evo-Stik West and see how they were fairing these cluttered days.  This was looking to be a stunning contest to get the jowls salivating, just like the 2 fried eggs, 4 toast and tin of beans I had for my dinner.  I am a northerner with earthy tastes but man, that meal went down mighty well and I make no apology for almost having an scram-based orgasm in the process of the mastication - I do like a good basic meal tha' knows.  So after a day cleaning, writing and stuffing my cakehole my good lady came home from work (as per, Monday is my day off), we had a quick tea and pootled down to the rearranged destination at The Offside Trust Stadium in Barnton.  On the way we listened to a Fear on Four, namely 'The Monkey's Paw by W. W. Jacobs.  This tale is a famed chiller and concerns three wishes granted to a couple who find out all is not what it seems.  I once found myself in a similar situation when a pot-bellied genie offered me the same bargain.   I wished for a 10 inch nob but when aroused found I couldn't get my trousers on or off.  I then wished to lose a few inches which led to a state of gangrene that destroyed the lower 3rd and so led to a full amputation.  My last wish was for a new willy altogether - I ended up with the shaft of a stickleback - what a fuckin' waste and a lesson for all to learn from.  So with fishy tackle tucked away we duly arrived, had a slurp, scoffed a cone of chips apiece, nibbled some mince pie biscuits and fought off the nippy fingers of Old Uncle Icicle, a touchline encounter not to overshadow the on-field antics.  So with trembling phalanges and a tightly squeezed sphincter muscle (yes, Mr Icicle is not just cold but deviant as well) I managed to scrawl the following observations, I hope they make sense!

The COL Crew started with great earnest and pushed with a perky, perspired passion that duly tested their opponents mettle.  Widnes displayed an immediate resoluteness and soaked and surged with applaudable balance.  The first notable onslaught came form The Whites No 10 (Ben Hodkinson) who was a busy customer in the opening exchanges and, after busting a gut, pounced on a minor faux pas, nipped forth and slotted home with little fuss.  The City of Liverpool squad were slightly upended but are a resilient pack and hammered back from this early blow with sound pride.  As the Purps pressed they were always prone to a counter and Widnes did just that on several occasions.  One such occurrence saw the COL mitter (Morgan Bacon) get caught off his line and give an opportunity to a forward bod to double the lead.  The gloved guardian recovered the situation with an outstretched arm - ooh the jammy bugger, we stayed as we were.  Widnes, to be fair, looked comfortable and soaked up the mounting pressure with defensive ease but it was a long ball that came from nowhere that caused them the greatest consternation with the always willing No 9 (Thomas Peterson) chasing after and duly getting dragged to the turf.   A yellow card and a free-kick saw that justice was done, it was up to No 8 (Paul Williams) to deliver further goods to the applecart of hope.   He stepped up, eyed the situation and fired in a firm shot - the net bulged like the underwear of a hernia suffering plebeian, the scouse army of followers roared and gave good voice, game back on folks.


Widnes were now an injured beast, they started to snarl with purpose and looked to bite the Purple arse with keen determination.  Corners came, one got nutted on target but the keeper gathered low and then after a COL push Widnes broke with high urgency, put in an accurate cross that saw No 7 (Kevin Towey) execute a delectable turn and have a first time shot that struck the upright and left it quivering.   The ball rebounded and as luck would have it, it went straight to Towey again who this time thwacked home and got his side's second goal.  From here the game was well balanced, Widnes had another chance when their No 3 (Bram Johnstone) thrusted with great efficiency, put in a solid cross that was nutted just over by the eternally available No 11 (George Lomax).  2 corners followed for the Liverpool lads, Widnes remained firm and always had an eye on the quick suckerpunch.  The final gesticulations of this manic half saw a rear end slip up from the City of Liverpool pack allow No 9 (Dale Korie-Butler) to fly through and have a dig.  The keeper was still alert and put in a concrete save - we went into the break as we were.


A warm drink and some ginger biscuits for the break, it were a bit parky to be sure.  


Half-two, the first attack came via The Whites, the passing was superbly oiled and cut through the flesh of the Purps with dazzling authority.  The final shot was hoofed by Lomax, alas only fresh air was struck, much to the amusement of the opposing fans.  At the other end Peterson was becoming a thorn in the buttocks and after nipping round the keeper he had a chance to grab the equaliser but the ball was defended well and hoofed clear.  Next and it was the No 11 (Jack Hazelhurst) who was dinking and jinking forward duly forcing a foul on the edge of the box.  No 2 (Luke Denson) was the taker, the globe was slotted in, defended outward and than rasped forth by the shank of No 4 (Kevin McEllin).  The mittman flew to his left, produced an exemplary save and knocked the ball onto his horizontal.  The COL tyrants fizzed. Peterson earned another free-punt on the angle of the danger zone. The cross came, a deflection helped quell the peril but a tide was rising and Peterson was soon through again only to be denied by the keepers sprawled legs.  


A heated period came, the vitriolic verbals hit a new high with 'Shithouse' a favoured description primarily aimed at the man in the middle (poor bugger, what a thankless task).  Widnes though hung on, negated the sharpness of the brandished attacking epee and cut back with threats of their own.  The Purps were becoming increasingly frustrated, this was a very convincing contest, Widnes briefly spiced matters further with a blindingly efficient 4 pass move that was just stamped out at the last and then Peterson at the opposite end got a late crust on the globe but watched it drop wide of the vertical - unlucky for sure. The time ticked away, into the added minutes and Widnes had a couple of sorties forth with one shot tame and at the keeper and the other lashed into the great bleak beyond.   The referee halted matters soon after, he took a fair berating from the fans of the losing side - we thought the best team won, they weathered a storm, showed an inner strength and played with a solidity to be admired.  My choice of Man of the Match goes to the Widnes No 5 (Sam Sheen) who was a defensive rock throughout, looked a measured and balanced player and stuck to his role with regulated discipline - it was a lynch-pin performance and not one to overlook - so I haven't.


FINAL THOUGHT - Despite this being a 1st round cup tie concerning a very local area the two sides involved put in a quite impressive stint and made for a very good game of competitive football which they must be cheered for and congratulated upon.   The Widnes team are no mugs, they have good order in the ranks and are able to coil up and strike like a veritable cobra even when the flow is not going their way.  There is a lot of talent in the team and it is good to see they have stuck with many players from last season.  I enjoyed my visits to the Select Security Stadium, I think we saw Widnes win more often than not - on tonight's evidence one can see why.  The City of Liverpool have been witnessed twice this year and I have yet to see them win.  This, in no way hides the fact that they will win the North West Counties Premier League for sure, they will hold their own in the Evo-Stik League and they will win the next time I watch them (which could be sooner rather than later).  Today they weren't at full strength, the aforementioned league is the priority but man, they still did well and in truth could have easily pinched this one with a bit more fortune.  I hope to view this lot a few more times before the season closes and I expect some goal gluts to satiate my net-busting lust.  The challenge has been set, watch this space dear readers.

Saturday 15 December 2018

CHILLED CHEADLE PILFER

15th December 2018 Cheadle Heath Nomads 2 v 2 Eccleshall FC - The day started awaiting the carpet fitters who were expected to come early morn and get some kitchen flooring down. Would they come on time or would they dawdle and assist in me missing today's game and forcing me to burn down their local factory?  Thankfully my box of Captain Webb remained unopened and the layer of the laminate turned up and did his thing.  3 hours later we had a new kitchen floor and I was ready for some scram.  The gut was duly filled, I wrapped myself up with many layers and in good time made the short jaunt to this local ground.  The gnashers of the wind nipped at areas best left unexposed (unless of course on holiday or at a Royal Wedding) and  the usual mandible wag did just enough to stave off a full on winter molestation.  Eventually I chose my sitting spot, the cold plastic took some time to warm and my buttocks groaned in resistance via the little puckered mouth known as an 'arsehole'.  Fartology is the study of the anal utterances, the language known as 'crapulenta' is spoken by many, luckily I had a Non-League butt-plug on me today and the mucky mutterer was duly bunged up -  schtum bum don't ya know - and now to concentrate on the match proper.

The teams arrived out on the hardy grass, knees knocked and frameworks ravaged - it was time to warm up chaps and chase that ruddy globe.  The Nomads made the early running but Eccleshall had the first dig with No 10 (Louis Downs) trying an opportunistic wallop from out on the flank.  It was hopeful, it was over the bar - start all over again sir!  The next effort came after the hosts No 9 (Richard Tindall) let fly from a period of bluster but the attempt was tame and troubled no one except the Peeping Tom in the nearby garden of Mrs HIlda Labia.  The Nomads came again, an eye-catching ball in fell to the feet of No 8 (Philip Yuille) who just couldn't make any clean-cut contact.  Even though the hosts were edging matters the back-line of the Eck remained unflustered and panic free and blocked a few more punts with firm resolution.  No 7 (Keiran Herbert) started the next onslaught for the Cheadle lads, a firmly struck ball to No 2 (Jack Warren) was dealt with and passed out to No 10 (Leon Grandison).  The recipient moved forth, eyed glory and let fly just missing the far upright.  A free-kick the same way was not long in coming, two follow-up shots ensued but a breakthrough was nowhere to be seen - there was little in it that was for sure!


As the home pack pushed on a corner came, was delivered and headed the wrong way by a wannabe goal getter.  The ball went out and back in, a fine header followed and an almost point blank save was the result.  The much sought after spherical object dropped loose, No 5 (Joe Hare) was on it quicker than an hermaphrodite on a copy of 'Tits and Todgers Internationale' - the net was duly bulged.  Immediately Eccleshall found it within themselves to respond, No 7 (Luke Walsh) exposed some great feet, passed to Downs who swivelled and shot and made the keeper earn his crust. 2 corners came, the only danger had was with a break away but this was soon quelled and the game settled.  From here Eccleshall were the perkier outfit although Tindall produced a weak shot in return and Grandison put in a low cross that saw Herbert inches away from burying.  The quick thinking and hunger of Eccleshall would not be denied for long though and a pass and long ball saw Downs race through and bear down on the advancing mitter with a chance to get this game back on a level footing.  The brow remained unfurrowed, the eyes like a kestrel zoning in on its prey and bang, the ball was firmly nestled home and the intrigue levels went up several notches.  For the remainder of the half the resident team tried to force the issue but the travellers displayed good organisational resolve.  A few semi-precious digs came, the end shine was lacking and Tindall, just before the stroke of half-time, could have dramatically altered the interval team talks when he was put through from a glorious pass.   The shot the came was hurried and into the filthy weather - all square, all fair  - and so the break.  


A jaw wag with a few locals and Abbey Hey Pete at half-time was done through chattering teeth and clanking conkers but it was heart-warming to know that the local bishop whom Pete had recently tried to strangle following a defeat in a local nude Scrabble competition had dropped the charges.  After praying hard it seemed that the Man of God had found forgiveness in his heart and let the  frustrated compiler of words recover from the stress-inducing beating.  As a word of advice to Pete, 'Conkernobbing' is still not in the dictionary and 'Schnocklecock' is a Jewish term for chocolate dipped willies and is also not allowed.  And away from the board to the pitch we must go...


Eccleshall displayed an early fire despite playing headlong into the wind and rain.  The greasy surface was being played by the Nomads and one decent move culminated in a crack from No 6 (Ebbie Rezayan) which the keeper easily gobbled up.  Onwards the hosts came, Eccleshall though still held threat and weren't to be ruled out just yet.  Hare for the home lads came close when, from a mush, he found space to shoot and clip the outside of the post. Herbert nearly pounced next but was denied at the last to keep this one in an involving state of balance.  The Eck stuck to their task, they won a free-kick from virtually nothing and as Cheadle pondered matters and chewed the cud with one another, a quick ball was had.  One pass followed, Downs was in, 1 - 2, thank you very much and well deserved it was.  There was only me applauding - I try and be fair tha' knows.   A few subs followed, a sticky spell came and then a booking and more substitutions.   A touch of tetchiness was sidling into the host's psyche, we were looking at the home stretch and this one was slipping away for the purple clad players. The Nomads came on, Herbert put in a swift and accurate cross, the fired up No 4 (Ashley Crank) just failed to find the killer touch.  A corner came soon after, the keeper punched and mayhem was finalised by a sizzling rasper - over.  


Now we entered the last 5 minutes, a hold-up brought touchline verbals, the Nomads reacted quickest after the delay and a ball into the heart of the box was the result.  Legs swung, bagatelle was witnessed until super-sub and saviour No 17 (Andrew Simpson) popped up and grabbed a quite unexpected equaliser.  This was a kidney punch to the Eccleshall pack who had done so well to gain the lead whilst working headlong in conditions best termed as 'wank'. Now they had to hang on to save the lone point rather than a fistful of three and they nearly lost that one too when a ball came and a striker almost nipped in and added insult to injury. Thankfully the away team got their draw confirmed as the whistle blew and for me they were unlucky not to go back home with a full-on victory - football can be a cruel game and we all know the wicked script only too well, each and every minute matters that is for sure.   Man of the Match though goes to Eccleshall's No 10 (Louis Downs) for his 2 goals, some solid holding up play and the eagerness to fight for lost causes and keep his team in it.  The fact that he needed substituting may reflect the effort thrown in - good on ya!


FINAL THOUGHT - Cheadle Heath Nomads may be my local team, they may be the most friendly folk I know and they will undoubtedly get the most visits from me this season and every season hereon in but honesty and fairness must always be used in these reports and today they were a side out of sync, a side rattled and a side who certainly got lucky when the chips were looking to be pissed on.  Having said that, they stayed in the contest, battled to the last and showed, that even on a rough day, they are still capable of snatching something - that, in itself, can be a mark of a very good team.  I think at the moment they are at a crossroads and are hitting one of those 'sticky' patches that all teams go through - how they come out the other end is the true judge of quality.  Eccleshall FC impressed me today and exhibited a team with good communication, some good running individuals and a defensive stubbornness that surely should bring greater rewards.  They are currently sitting in 15th position, on this evidence I find that hard to believe but, as is shown today, if you don't take your chances, kill the game dead when its vulnerable spots are showing then a chomp on the arse will be had and a struggle to consider the outcome.  I need to catch these guys again soon to gain greater clarity into their inner machinations - there are just so many options in these 3 leagues each and every week and unlike that little Moroccan fella of Mr Benn, I can't be everywhere!  PS - if anyone finds two pink globes rolling around the Cheadle Heath area please let me know, my testicles were so cold today they rolled down my trouser leg and went on a runner - there are 10 shekels and a signed William Conrad photo for anyone to helps recover them - be gentle with them  please.   Crikey it were a cold un'!

Tuesday 11 December 2018

VAUXHALL ALL OVER THE ROAD

10th December 2018 - Maine Road 1 v 3 Vauxhall Motors - A day sending out Nettle Books, sorting the kitchen floor, identifying yet more fungi and tidying up.  I am back to work tomorrow so need to crack on.  The weekend had been grand, a good wildlife walk, a decent footy match and 7 bands exposed on a Fungalised gig.  This latest football fix was at one of my local grounds of which I have several - Maine Road on a Monday night though is a regular fixture throughout the campaign and one that is always appreciated.  Tonight they were hosts to Vauxhall Motors, a team I saw get beaten at the weekend (as did The Road) leaving me absolutely clueless as to what tonight's outcome would be.  I expected the home team to start fast, the guests to warm to the task and the end result to be...well, as I say, who the Hell knows! I was averaging 4 goals a game this month, there didn't seem any reason for this to lessen after examining recent results - ooh heck, surely I hadn't jinxed this one and we would be sent homeward with a sweet FA draw.  I arrived in good time, met up with STP Stu and had a brew and discussed recent punk matters.  David Potter (Cheadle Heath Nomads Football Coach) and Andy Gray (Cheadle Heath Nomads Manager) were in attendance as well and were fine company and at half-time Neville Pearson (Cheadle Heath Nomads Secretary) also put in an appearance which had me pondering the rumours of a possible warped love tryst involving masonic rituals and the sacrificial slaughter of pies.  In fact evidence was hardened when, at half-time, I discovered the manager eating such a pastry filled delight with his left breast bared and one trouser leg rolled up - quite chilling if you ask me!   Eventually we went out into the chill for a thrill with no men of the cloth needed and no protractors and compasses anywhere in site - bonus.   Seats taken, verdicts given, the ball soon got rolling!

The first sortie into the area considered dangerous came via the manipulations of the visiting tribe with No 8 (David Webb) surging forth and allowing his teammate to wallop with much heftiness.  The save was solid and a corner came which was nutted out to relieve the early pressure.  No sooner had a respite been achieved than the guest No 11 (Joe Brandon) was chasing a classy through ball that he was millimetres away from connecting with.  Luckily for the hosts the keeper had had an early wake up call and was off his line in good time to hoof away.  The home team now had their first wander forth, No 3 (Luke Podmore) flashed in the corner, back heeled for No 10 (Thomas Keyworth) to cross with the keeper spilling the greasy globe.  The defence cleared up the mess before having possession pilfered in the middle of the park by Road's Keyworth who dashed, delivered and forced the keeper to just do enough.   The corner that followed was awful.

The Road now tried to capitalise on the sudden momentum, No 9 (Lee Hendley) delivered a delicious cross that was duly buried but ruled offside - how cruel!  A corner came soon after, Podmore and Keyworth were in cahoots once more, a ball eventually went into the box but was parried away by the gloved artisan between the uprights.  Keyworth soon retrieved matters, knocked in another decent dig which No 11 (Kyle Hendley) cranially connected with - alas it went off target!  Vauxhall needed a release and reacted with a quick attack that was spearheaded by Brandon.  He darted with dogmatic desire, worked through the smallest of gaps and left his markers standing before a quick one-two was finalised with a sweetly taken strike.   A quite simple but effective goal and a real poke in the pud for the Road's ambitions.  As if this wasn't bad enough a free-kick was awarded a few ticks later, Webb took the opportunity from distance and doubled his side's lead in glorious style - were we to bear witness to a thumping?

The hosts now dug in dirt-laden heels but Vauxhall looked to add a third sting with No 9 (George Hassell) buzzing down the wing before releasing a quite blistering cross that No 10 (Ben Holmes) looked certain to bury.  The miss was astoundingly terrible.  An injury to a Road player looked to add to the home teams woes but a long ball was had and dissected the Vauxhall defence and allowed Keyworth to scamper in.  The legs worked, the head stayed composed and the ball was stroked homeward to half the deficit - interesting indeed folks.  The lads in blue now discovered renewed hope, Podmore was having a good game and contributing to the possibility of a comeback  2 crosses followed like the irritating twins known as Tweedle Twonk and Tweedle Twat - both causing concern.  Vauxhall dealt with matters (just) and responded with some accurate crossing at the other end which Maine Road were lucky to survive.  During the last dregs a few half chances were fluffed, Vauxhall's No 6 (Haydn Cooper) went into the book for a clumsy tackle and a couple of old blokes stated that they were giving the half-time tea a miss as it was too strong and reminded them of Castrol GTX - ha, ha - it tickled me no end that comment.

A brew and a chinwag during the break, I noticed The Cheadle Heath Nomads' Manager had picked up a couple of love-bites during the first 45 minutes and passionate Potter was looking hotter and hotter as he sipped his half time refreshment.  The latter deviant had his helmet out on the table for all to see during the 15 minute break but I must clarify that it was a motorcycle helmet and not the one that is more than likely at the forefront of your disreputable noggins.  

Half two, the visitors had the first free-kick which was delivered with yet more quality.  Brandon had the final say with a solid crust but the save was equal to the task.  No 5 (Thomas Mitchell) also put nut on ball soon after when Hassell had bust a gut to earn a free-kick in the corner.  The delivery was spot on, the end result just off line.  Road were unsettled, they were not getting to grips with matters and in danger of throwing away any chance of earning a point or three.  Another corner came, Holmes blazed over, Hassell then escaped the pack and fired in a heat-seeking cross that needed the faintest touch - no takers.  More corners, more mither and then a static period with some frantic play, too many rushed passes and little in the way of quality.  Despite the second period being a dull affair the time absolutely whizzed by and the last 10 were soon upon us.  Vauxhall continued to command, a shot was blocked on the line and then Webb punted one from range but just didn't get the coordinates right.  The Road mustered a great corner, there was no way through the rear heap.  Eventually a ball came,  Hendley had a free-shot fly wayward and then Webb blew forward with determination high.  On and on he progressed until making it into the perilous pastures of the box where he was bumbled to the turf and awarded a penalty.   The same player stepped up, remained calm and put the final nail in the Road's coffin.  The hosts had one last chance with Keyworth failing to bury a half-decent ball and then we were done.  Farewells were had, I pondered the Man of the Match and went for the defensive rock of Vauxhall Motors, namely No 5 (Mitchell Thomas) who, like a turd in a U-bend, would not be moved and clogged the plumbing of promise for the opponents and left them primarily creatively constipated.  A firm but commanding effort - good on ya fella.

FINAL THOUGHT - As per, when I visit Maine Road, there are always goals aplenty and not always the way of the resident pack.  The team confound me, frustrate me and seem to defy logic.  There is one thing I keep noticing when watching the games though and that is how time and time again they allow their opponents to have one player freely roam into a wide position thus creating untold problems when an attack comes.  Is this an oversight, is it a tactic not working?   I think if the team play with more width and cover this blip further success could be had, then again I am a mere punter with an opinion and don't want to get too judgmental.   The team have some fine players, the mechanics just need a little oiling and that elusive bag known as 'Lady Luck' needs catching - she is a slippy old mare though and holds no favourites that is for sure. Vauxhall Motors came and did what they had to do tonight and although they got bogged down into a messy second half the win, at the end of the day, was fairly comfortable.  I feel as though this team isn't firing on all cylinders either, there seems to be a few extra gears waiting to be used but the season is ticking on and there is no time to dawdle and admire the Non-League scenery.   I have yet to visit their ground, in the New Year I shall correct this and witness what progress has been made - they do look good value for a top 8 finish though (at least).  Before I sign off I need to clarify that when the aforementioned Mr Potter claimed after the match that he wasn't going home to 'polish his helmet' no suggestion of self-abuse was intended - I hope we can now move on from the misunderstanding that caused one nearby old lady to swoon in sexual discombobulation - ooh those aged hormones!