Monday 11 March 2019

SPIRIT AND SUBSTANCE WIN THE DAY

10th March 2019 - Rylands FC 3 v 5 Cheadle Heath Nomads I have recently watched the famed 1978 mystery thriller 'The Eyes of Laura Mars' starring Faye Dunnaway as well as starting to work my way through a fine box set of Joe 90 episodes.  I pondered the outcome of a Ms Mars/Joe 90 copulation and, despite a prison sentence, reckoned the resultant offspring would be a speccy bastard with the ability to predict the future.  Well, I wear glasses, have been termed a bastard (especially in the oh so delicate punk scene) and reckon I can predict the outcome of this match.  Having got up early, donned my Gerry Anderson see-through underpants and dropped a couple of Thunderturds down the U-bend myself and my good (and patient) lady headed out to get to the ground at 9.30am prompt (and on a Sunday morning too - what will the vicar say).  Tea and a snack was purchased, STP Stu turned up and I boldly proclaimed that this match would be a 3 - 3 score draw.    A vision had been had, a Fireball XL5 had shot up my jacksie, passed through my carcass and hit my cranial matter with enlightening intensity - it was a 'eureka' moment, even the great thinking of Brains or the logical skills of Father Stanley Unwin paled into insignificance as the future was seen and the result received.   Read on folks, see the truth transpire or perhaps, see Fungalpunk look a right twat - this is the outcome.

Viewing points chosen and the weather was more than a trifle wank.  The embryonic moments of the wind-riddled affair were played with a hesitancy and a care to adjust to the elements.  From this seemingly excitement-free exchange a Cheadle rear bod played the ball back to his mittman who, instead of rattling clear, chose to be cute and use his bonse.  The touch went all wrong, the ball picked up by an opposing player, tidily passed for No 11 (Steven Boothman) to jab home.  What a shocker, certainly not the start the guests had ordered.  The response to this unexpected blip brought about a showcase of the visiting teams guts and nuts.  They came forth, throw in went to No 10 (James Green) who dashed in at the angle. let fly and watched the ball flash across the goalmouth and just miss the far upright.  A floated free-kick came the same way not long after, it was nutted wide but pressure was building.  The Nomads were busting their conkers trying to get back into this one.  The ball entered the middle of the park, No 9 (Ashley Harrison) shook off two markers and progressed.  The player in control unselfishly passed, Green was the recipient, eyed his spot and bang, the equaliser was had.  No longer had breath been caught and Cheadle won a free-kick.  No 11 (Stephen Kirby) floated one, the keeper was alert and gathered, this though was a quality fight back.

The rain abated, the wind however grew stronger and from a distant climactic rectum much blusteriness was being expelled no doubt after an insane Heavenly feast of spiteful beans and perishing prunes.  These howling insults and the claggy pitch brought about a spell of hard-fought football with little in the way of chances arising.  Rylands strove to regain their lead, a ball from Cheadle found Kirby who sweetly collected, knocked in a pearling pass that saw Green gather, gallop and get grounded by the advancing keeper.  A penalty was awarded Green buried - what a turn around.  Rylands still tried to play football, they came on, No 8 (Stephen Wolhuter) played a quality ball, No 3 (Thomas Parry) put in a vexing cross that needed defending behind.  The corner came, the wind was a ruination, the chance went begging.  A few spicy tackles ensued followed by an injury delay.  The game restarted, the guests grabbed possession, No 7 (Kieran Herbert) seemed to be in the realm of nowhere, he tried a sneaky shot.  The ball crawled over the mud-blemished turf, somehow the bottom corner of the net was found - by crikey lad, what the Hell is going on here then?

The half now advanced with the guests looking to cement their lead, the hosts scurrying and looking to gain a glimmer of hope before the break.  Ryalnds duly trespassed, they were given time to move the ball around the box until Boothman had had enough, let fly a low whistling shot and squeaked the ball home between the vertical and the sprawling keepers' mitt.  It was the last major action of the half, it set matters up nicely for the second period and what a decisive goal this could be.

For half time we stayed put, the thought of a wander in the chill was not persuasive - so a Flapjack, a natter and then the players re-emerged.

Rylands now had the wind behind them, little did they know that before long they would have it up em' too.  Boothman had the first pop, straight at the keeper it went and then a stunning ball over the top nearly led to a great leveller but the offside flag and a poor finish crushed the rising ambition.  The hosts sprung once more, a fluent move saw No 9 (Stuart Wellstead) put in a glancing header that had no determined direction, the keeper gathered with ease.  A free-kick followed that just missed the top corner and then No 10 (Jamie White) cut in and released but once more just couldn't find the home zone.  From this onslaught the visitors broke with Harrison at the helm and bearing down on a goal kick.  The ball richoted, went loose and was belted clear before a short stretch of scrappy play came that saw the ball spend more time off the pitch than on it.  Eventually things got moving and a free-kick came for Cheadle.  The delivery into the box was choice, Harrison rose and nutted home his teams forth and put paid to my pre-match prediction.  I ripped off my Gerry Anderson underpants and threw them into the bracing air - when I get home I am cancelling my Joe 90 tattoo as well.

From here I expected a Rylands renaissance, not so - Cheadle weren't done yet.  The battled away, the ball was up for grabs, Kirby had a first time dig, a block came, No 8 (Andrew Simpson) sensed glory and at the second attempt nudged home - was reality distorted?  The skies turned black, I saw my discarded duds fly by on the breeze and get stuck on a nearby bald man's head - yes - my sense of what is real was truly malfunctioning. Rylands now fought like dogs over the last chip butty, the ball was pumped into the perilous region, back out it went only for No 16 (Christopher Francis) to crack back a beauty.  It looked all the world to be a goal, alas the underside of the bar was hammered and the globe pinged out.  The hosts were undeterred, a great cheeky pass was dinked through, No 17 (Liam Moran) put in a laser-like cross - it was unfortunate not to see any takers present.  Boothroyd sent in a free-kick next, again it was off-line but within seconds a lightning surge saw White receive, cut in and squeeze the ball into the mesh.  3 goals to 5 folks it now was, what next?  Well, a shot each end failed to cause a bulge (now, now) and Cheadle Heath Nomads saw the game out and thoroughly deserved their 3 point haul.   It had been a street-fighting performance done the right way - with the feet doing the talking and delivering the knock-out blows.   Man of the Match goes to the Nomadic No 9 (Ashley Harrison) for a darn determined effort that never relented, his willingness to chase many a lost cause and for grabbing a well-deserved goal along the way.  An example of spirit and substance winning the day.  After the match a hailstorm came, we took shelter with a brew and then made a dash for the car and straight to a Fungalised gig - this had been a grand start to another busy day!

FINAL THOUGHT - Wow, in conditions rated 'terrible' this game had thrills, spills, unpredictability and plenty of fine effort.  Rylands are no mugs, today they were just lacking a bit of luck and perhaps a little bit of urgency in a game that was all about who wanted it most.  I have enjoyed my trips to this place this season, have witnessed many a fine footballer, I am in no doubt that this is a blip and we are looking at the league champions.  I hope so, after leading the way for so long it would be poxy to see it thrown away.  They will have to buckle down though but this kick up the arse as come just at the right time methinks and the next team to meet the boys in blue had better watch out.  Cheadle Heath Nomads are my local team, they are 5 streets away and have provided me with some good entertainment this year.  They are a unit who get on, work for one another and who have had their ups and downs in this inaugural North West Counties season.  Today they proved that they can compete, they have many fine qualities and, with a good run of consistency can be major players in the mix this time next year.  These leagues are very competitive as the lads have found out but they have a vibe, a belief when the chips are down and many options to call upon.  If you can beat the top team in the league, on a Sunday morning in conditions such as this then the footballing world is there to be kicked for six - tis easier said than done but, as ever, who knows!

No comments:

Post a Comment