Friday 17 May 2019

2018/2019 SEASON ROUND UP

Matches attended


78

Goals witnessed

299

Average goals per game

3.83

Highest scoring game

Maine Road 6 v 5 Abbey Hulton 

Ten most seen teams

Cheadle Heath Nomads 15
Maine Road 8
Stockport Town 7
Bacup Borough 5
City of Liverpool 4
Avro FC 4
Chadderton 4
1874 Northwich 4
Cheadle Town 4
Sandbach Utd 4

Raffles won

Fuck-all (again)

End of season round-up

The season has been, in Northern terms 'a reet good do', and in truth without the fine folk I have nattered to along the way and the many welcoming grounds it wouldn't have been half as good.  Non-League football is more than what happens on the pitch it is about doofers trying to put something back, people involved in the game because they love it and fans supporting the glorious game rather than some big business masquerading as a community happening.  I have been blessed this year with many a good match, some great days out with an abundance of goals.  The people I have spent time with on the touchline have been plentiful, I am really grateful for the company - nowt wrong with a good enthusiastic natter and a brew - tis what it is all about.  My good lady Gillian has been to more than her fair share, she is a wonder and STP Stu has been a frequent escort (in a non-sexual way) and as per, is always a pleasure to spend time with.  

On the field I have witnessed many a good match with all three North West Counties Leagues showcasing some real quality and well-contested football.  There have been many surprises along the way with 2 of the leagues going right to the wire.  City of Liverpool have now progressed onwards and it would be rude of me not to catch up with them again next season even though the lofty standard they will be playing at may cause the odd dizzy spell.  Memorable days out have been too many to mention but our trip down to Eccleshall was brilliant, a day of sun, good bug-hunting and a match watched by one of the most friendly crowds we have encountered.  Denton Town of The Cheshire League was visited a few times and is a firm favourite we intend visiting more and more over the coming years - there is something purely DIY there - as a gutterpunk that appeals no end.  Of course Congleton Town remains a firm favourite, FC Oswestry is always special with its chips and tea on the balcony and Longridge Town certainly put on a good show with a good atmosphere and the free biscuits and programme a much appreciated bonus.  Stockport Town is a special place due to the kindness of club secretary Rob York who advertises the Fungalpunk going's on and the Young Carers service in the match day programme and who is always the most genial and amiable chap imaginable.  1874 Northwich are a team to admire with their solid set-up and of course the last gasp winner in the Macron Cup Final a veritable high.  It would be rude not to mention a place that is fast becoming my second home, namely Cheadle Heath Nomads who are run by the most sociable and inviting people you can imagine and are doing things in a slow and steady way and hopefully building for a bright future.  The ground is only a couple of streets away, I now have a wild flower patch there and the team have more than held their own in this inaugural season - I think it makes sense that I will be there plenty of times each and every campaign and always scribbling my reports with the best of intentions.

The major gripe from the season I have is that I can't be everywhere and some grand places have not had enough of my attention due to there only being 24 hours in a day and being rushed on many other fronts.  Each season I like to spread the reports, keep myself intrigued and throw in a few new grounds to add to the overall variety - it isn't easy but I hope I have done a good enough job this time to give everyone a fair share, a bit of support and spread their word.  You wouldn't believe how frustrated I get every Saturday when there are a dozen matches I feel as though I should be at, several that I haven't visited for a while and some new grounds that are provoking my interest further - it isn't a bad problem to have though.

So final thanks to all, the natterers and Non-League nuts, the people who have provided teamsheets and info, the general doofers who just love this game and of course, all those who read my scribblings and appreciate it.  Next season and here is to more of the same with all involved avoiding prejudice, bullshit and pointless bad mouthing and making the game a fair and all-embracing place where everyone can enjoy themselves and feel welcome.  A few hundred goals, lots of cuppas and the usual company and I'll be like a pig in shit - oh aye!

Monday 13 May 2019

ARSE END AFFAIRS

11th May 2019 - Poynton FC 2 v 0 FC St Helens - Today I woke up starving and was passing water through my arse quicker than a souped up water-pistol.  I was due to have a colonoscopy and so had been having the whole clear out procedure and was now sporting an anus as red as a piss-pots nose and as equally roughened.  A call early morn indicated I could move my appointment to an earlier time which, with a bit of luck, would mean I could squeeze in some Non-League Football - the offer was taken.   So, at 1.30pm I was lay on my side, refusing sedation and gas and air and enjoying the delights of having a camera explore my 28 feet of intestine.  I duly farted, chatted with the nurses and came out with a sign of 'all clear'.  I rushed the nurses through the paper work, was guided back to the waiting area where my missus was duly informed that we were in time for some footy - I think her wry smile said it all.  We arrived just in time to grab teamsheet photo's and then enjoyed a good chat with fellow Non-League pootler Gareth Evans and his good lady, Sandra.  Andy Gray, the Manager of Cheadle Heath Nomads joined us for a natter and the teams came out to indulge in a sun-blessed game that, in truth, was of no great concern.  So with recently stretched anus, a fear of letting the sphincter muscle relax and with fine weather and company I scribbled a report assessing a match that went as thus.

The first animation came via some Poynton probing, No 10 (Jason Leach) provided a meaty dig that the keeper did well to clear at the second attempt.  A throw followed, Leach was on it like a perverted doctor on a testicular boil, the shot that came was skewed embarrassingly wide.  The home team continued to make the most play with the guests seemingly happy to bide their time and try and explosively counter.  An angled hoof came for the home pack, the fiery barnet of No 5 (Luke Jones) was neatly found, the header was close in and firm but the keeper was in the right place and securely held the ball.  Eventually St Helens found time and space to wriggle forth and win a free-kick.  The ball in was deliciously drilled, No 8 (Liam Houghton) dashed into room, produced a flick header that almost dropped beneath the horizontal - oooh! 


From here the game became a ramshackle affair, with quality a very rare commodity on a pitch drier than the humour of Clement Freud and more uneven than the complexion of Hilda Baker.  Both teams hurried and harried but no real direct progress was made.  A gratis-dig was offered to St Helens after an opportunist hoofing.  No 10 (Kieran Curtis) put the ball forth, a bounce was wicked, the keeper did well to catch and hold.  To hinder the flow of the game several collisions and verbal exchanges came with talking to's given and the nonsense quelled.  The last 10 minutes were soon upon us, more pointless disagreements came and then Leach struck a free-kick that rattled the underside of the bar and somehow pinged outwards rather than inwards.  Oh my goodness, now that was bordering on excitement.  The half trickled on and flickered out - it had, in truth, been a shocker.  The whistle was a blessed relief.


We stayed put at half-time, enjoyed the pleasant weather and had a natter.  


Poynton came out quickest for the second period, a great cross seemingly came from nowhere, No 7 (Carl McCurrie) nipped in and provided a low header from close range that crawled off target.  The blushes were spared via the liner's waving flag - lucky swine.  A few cruddy tackles followed, the hosts rose from the mess with a stunningly effective sweeping and simple move. One ball down the flank, a cross, Leach at the near post, one goal to nil and thank you very much.  St Helens worked hard to create a worthy response, a free-kick was truly awful, another one in return was equally shabby.  The hosts strode on once again, a long ball was headed on by No 8 (Jamie Manson) with McCurrie nipping in and poking toward goal - the save was steady enough.  A corner followed, many heads rose, none made any contact and Jones for Poynton popped up and bumbled home.  The lead had been doubled, the onus was on the visitors to make a game of this.

The visiting pack marauded, a dropping header was tipped behind for a corner kick which duly came in and was boomed off the bonse of No 8 (Liam Houghton) who looked a trifle miffed that he couldn't hit the strike zone.  Another angled boot came the same way, the keeper fumbled and bumbled but recovered his ass and eventually helped the ball clear.  The hosts pounced and started to build a good attack that was ultimately ruined by some crude tackles.  Several corners and crosses came at the St Helens danger area, all led to bugger all, it was a very disjointed game.   The fractured finish saw No 12 (Nick Challinor) of Poynton make good room in the corner, put in a cross that McCurrie headed against the back of a defender instead of into the net.  The last blasts saw the home goalie get in a pickle but just scrape together a recovery and then the resident No 14 (Greg Mathers) spurt through and shoot...off target.  A St Helens sub stuck out a foot in the midst of a tackle and pushed the ball just shy of the far stick and a final header over the bar for the hosts finalised what had been, a quite ugly game with the true winner being the pitch.  From the disjointed disarray Poynton's No 5 (Luke Jones) was deserved of the Man of the Match choice due to the fact he stayed disciplined, coped with the unforgiving surface, stood his ground well and grabbed a goal as a bonus.  Farewells were made following the final whistle and my mind was now on food - if I had a shit sandwich it may be quite fitting for the day's events.

FINAL THOUGHT - One can't polish a turd even if one had one, alas today I was void of such a bodily item.  This match was far from a classic, it was what one may consider a stinker, my shit-shining efforts would be wasted so I'll say it how it is (as ever).   Both teams worked hard, defied the substrate and tried to get on with matters apart from the nonsensical moaning and groaning.  Both units have some fine players, have options and play with a good determination but for me, trying to play football on a baked deck that is far from level is just an impossible task.  We are at the fag-end of the season, minds are elsewhere and legs are tired, the game today wasn't a true reflection of what the teams are capable of, of that I am sure.  I nip in and nip out of this Cheshire League and see plenty of good endeavour from many teams, the ones who have moved up into the North West Counties League have held their own which says a lot for the standard - I hope to catch both these units several times next year - until then I will reserve judgement - by heck, that polaroid up the posterior must have made me all considerate.

Thursday 9 May 2019

WHAT'S YOUR STYAL

7th May 2019 - Styal FC 3 v 2 Golborne Sports - A ship at sea, heads towards a high-profile martial arts contest organised by the maniacal crime-lord known as Han.  The competitors are on board and after a gambling game that sees two Praying Mantis go claw to claw a cretinous goon kicks over a basket of fruit and then starts to throw range-finding punches towards a quietly introspective Chinese American.  'What's Your Style' the simple minded man asks, the response is beautifully enigmatic - 'The art of fighting without fighting' - the mentally challenged buffoon furrows his brow.  This snippet, from a film of gargantuan proportions leads me to tonight's game - hence the title of the piece and my knowledge of both teams.  What is their style, who are this team known as Styal, do Golborne Sports really exist or have I been misinterpreting the arrangement of letters and the team is actually called Oblong Porters? The fact that this report involves the art of 'writing without writing' due to using a keyboard helps reinforce why I used the opening gambit and as I have a fantastic collection of Bruce Lee underpants and have been to prison for Kung-Fu kicking the right breast of local celebrity 'Big Hilda' I think I am fully justified in my approach.   After a day at work myself and my good lady arrived home, had a quick change and practiced a few high-flying kicks against the buttocks of the local shopkeeper - my wife took the right cheek, I took the left, nothing political, just one of those.   The drive to the ground was simple enough, we arrived, partook of a warm brew and half a Flapjack, picked a spot and I took pictures of the night's teamsheets.  Both teams were new to me, it is an end of season extra to throw into the mix and a prediction was kept under wraps - I have been made a fool of enough this campaign, sometimes common sense must prevail!

Matters began with the Styal No 7 (Louis Garner) knocking forth a delicious pass out wide with No 11 (Jardel Depeiaza) on it, zooming in and cutting the ball neatly back.  Unfortunately a defender read the situation, intercepted and cleared which led to No 7 (Steve Mulenda) hassling away, winning the ball and supplying No 9 (Mark Woods) who boomed over and nearly beheaded a passing Mistle Thrush - he should have done better.  Mulenda had a dig himself next, the strike was sweet enough, the elevation though was excessive.  Styal responded, Garner swept in another choice pass, No 9 (Joe Knight) swivelled in the box like a whizzed up entrant in a Twist Competition (ooh Chubby Checker and thy arthritic hips) and was duly tumbled.  A spot kick was awarded, Knight shouldered the responsibility and slotted home with self-assured equanimity.  1 - 0 it was, a veritable added bonus to a good game for sure.

Styal started to dictate the pace but Golborne Sports dug in and battled like an army of Dung Beetles over a choice turd.  The guests eventually earned a free-kick, the ball went into the box, No 10 (Niall Concannon) had a shot off target.  The goal-kick that ensued was shabby, No 11 (Craig Gladwin) jumped at the mis-kick, slipped a pass to Woods who negotiated a marker and hoofed the ball into the net - we were back to all square - nice! 

Back at it and Styal came on strong.  Knight played to Garner with a shot squeezed out and a tidy save had.  The guests from Golborne responded with a couple of punts that were not too far off the mark and Knight and Garner linking up yet again for the hosts with one shot neatly saved, another shot hit on the bobble and thwacked way over.  Garner was put through again, chased down the ball and after weaving around the keeper found a gaping net to ripple - the attempt from the angle was off target - a crucial miss methinks.  Knight had an audacious hoof next with a long range lob actually not that far off the mark.  The game bounced back and forth, Woods tried a cheeky free-kick next but the resident gloved guardian gathered with ease and then a breakaway came, a corner won and tipped away and soon after No 6 (Matthew Clarke) burst from the midfield pack, put in a close in shot that was saved by the visiting No 1 (Dave Szostok).  Styal began to up the ante when suddenly a long goal-kick came against the flow, bounced in the box and caused a defender to dilly and dally and allow Mulenda to slip in and grab the lead for the traveling team.  It was a bit of a shock but hey, there ya go, shit happens, the question is what is the response going to be?   The final stages of the first half saw Styal work hard, Golborne earn their crust and with a few moments of promise, a few mistimed kicks and much gusto we ended on something of a high.

We stayed put for half-time, consumed the rest of the Flapjack and had a natter.  The break was brief, with no floodlights there was no time to fanny about (or dick around if you require a politically correct balance).

Half two started with Styal springing from the traps like greyhounds with gonads dipped in curry sauce.  They were passing well and trying to pressurise their opponents into a rash faux pas.  Golborne remained disciplined and worked up a good lather with No 8 (George Reid) a real pesky customer.  As the hosts pushed Garner had a choice shot sweetly tipped over and then a sharply accurate corner was nutted on the line by the ever hungry Clarke who saw the mittman grab at point blank range.  No 12 (Zydane McCarthy-Brooks) had not been on the pitch long and provided the next surge with some good link up play, a dash to the corner and a sugar-sweet low cross.  No 3 (Shackeel Depeiaza) was on it, paused, took a touch and poked home to balance the books - what a decent match this was.

Onwards, Styal let fly with a few efforts, one wide, one botched by the goalie which led to a corner that was struck too firmly.  The hosts had their tails up now, a lightning cross came from S. Depeiaza, Knight glanced the ball with his bonse, the upright was quivered but no moment of orgasmic triumph was had - how deflating!  S. Depeiaza rushed forth once again and had one wondering what the Hell he had shoved up his arse during the break.  This time the fiery player was denied at the last by a prostrate keeper - it was still an eye-catching thrust.    There remained very little in this one but out of the blue Reid for the GS crew should have snatched the lead when he had only the keeper to beat and pushed his shot stray of the mark - one could almost see the air turn blue above the dug out as heads dropped in utter disbelief.

A crappy period followed as urgency rose and tired legs became desperate.  Styal were the first to emerge with any threat, J. Depeiaza took down a goal-kick with casual grace, set the wing on fire with a blur of legs and released a white hot cross.  Players lunged, the final touch was missed, now that would have been some goal.  A Styal sub had the next dig (sorry his name was not on the teamsheet), he was a hefty bugger and walloped the ball with wildman intent.  In the way was the flame-haired crust of No 16 (Rob Langford), the connection between globe and pate was shocking, how the Hell the defensive bod wasn't decapitated is beyond me but thankfully, after a short recovery on the deck, he rose to his feet and continued to contribute to his team’s efforts. 

Into the closing minutes, things became frantic, a cross ball came for Styal, a dummy had and in slipped J. Depeiaza who had acres of space and time to win this one.  The advanced player closed in on goal, the keeper slowly left his line, a shot came beneath the diving carcass - a quality finish had been executed in cool style, the game had been won at the death,  Golborne Sports had one last free-kick to salvage a point, into the wall it went and the final whistle rung out.  A quite lovely game this with quality and mistakes aplenty, an abundance of solid action and several performances of note.  Man of the Match goes to the fleet-footed No 11 of Styal (Jardel Depeiaza) who dashed like a Sausage Dog with two Donglers, worked the space well and was always keen to rattle forward and try and make a moment of magic - it was a fine stint for sure.  We wandered home happy with a decent night out cheers peeps.

FINAL THOUGHT - So, two teams at the back end of the campaign and bringing much entertainment for the few folk (about 24) who turned up and supported.  The score reflected a game that was close throughout with the difference just the rub of the green and the final touch of fortune falling to the home team.  Golborne Sports are right at the bottom of the league and tonight, looked like a team at the end of a long campaign. They have some good workhorses in the mix, they have some nice ideas but the main areas to work on are the running off the ball, tracking back and the width they use when in possession.  If these areas are worked on over the summer I guarantee next season there will be great strides made - it is all about incessant desire and stretching one's opponents this way and that.  Styal seem a unified side and have some very effective players within their team.  Some of the moves tonight were very fluent and rehearsed, that final ball though and attacking support are the only weak areas and with a bit of fine tuning a solid side will be there to be reckoned with.  The ground here is nice area, the guy who served us tea and flapjack an amiable chap, I think it goes without saying we will be back and I hope that many others will follow suit!

Sunday 5 May 2019

74'S MACRON MAGIC

4th May 2019 - 1874 Northwich 1 v 0 City of Liverpool - My wife and I had little sleep last night (too many boiled potatoes I reckon), we were fagged out and yet up and out early anyway.  A walk into Altrincham was fruitless, a wander around Stamford Park sweetly interrupted with a tea and toast break in the local cafĂ©.  We saw a few wildlife species and noted a tent set up by an old one-eyed crone who went under the nom de plume of Cyclops Stella - The All Seeing Slag.  I was pondering the result of the match and greatly troubled by my inability to predict the outcome so, after borrowing 5 rupees from my missus, I paid my way into the wigwam of enlightenment and had my left buttock read.  Apparently the arrangement of the stretch marks pointed to great excitement with a pimple close to the anal area indicated many capricious incidents.  The end advice given was to place a £50 bet on a 5 - 5 draw, put an each-way side wager on the appearance of a 2-willied streaker and to wash my arse more regularly.  Me and my good lady skipped to a cash point, withdrew the relevant funds and placed a bet at the local Bobby Queen's Turf Accountants.  We entered the ground with high hopes, had a brew and chatted with a few good faces.  The game eventually got going (The Macron Cup Final no less), I could almost feel the winnings in the palms of my hands and the weekend break to Frisky Freda's B&B was as good as booked (I hope she still pickles her dumplings, my missus won't eat nothing else).

The opening throes of this initial period saw the 74 crew hold onto the ball and play the patient game thus keeping the Purple pack on their toes.  No 6 (Aaron Smith) for the dominant side was looking lively and sent in an early looper that wouldn't drop on target and a low grasscutter that was spilled by the keeper but eventually mopped up. The COL ranks moved back with pace, No 9 (Craig Cairns) posted a quite fiery cross with the arriving bonse unable to make a connection.  No 11 (John McGrath) was there to gather the free-ball and let one fly - the save that came was regulation.  From here an 1874 breakaway was lightning and liquid, the flank was set on fire, the cross that came found the chest of No 11 (Taylor Kennerley) who eventually found time to shoot...just shy of the vertical.  A few more crosses came the same way, the Cheshire based team were certainly showing the greater urgency and trouble-inducing desire.  The main gripe for the dictating team was not turning the possession into anything of value and when playing a side such as COL, this was always going to be a major concern.  Once more the green machine rolled forth, Smith placed one out wide to No 7(Mike Koral) who chucked in a cross the keeper was forced to palm away for a corner which ultimately was like a Eunuch's nob and produced absolutely nowt!  As the lads from Northwich got carried away on the well ridden wave The Purps threw in a quite scintillating move with several rapid touches, a back heel and a shot home bringing great joy to the boisterops fans.  Alas the joy soon led to dejection after the liner's flag was noted - but was this perhaps a taste of things to come?

Despite this unexpected scare 1874 continued to play the role of constipated cockerel, trying to force the issue and lay a golden egg of success (No, I don't know what the fuck I am on about either).  Another corner came, it was played short and a cross was once more pushed away by the mittman's palms and what followed was a terse quiet period that saw 74's probing prongs of potential get slowly blunted by City of Liverpool's stubborn resilience.  Eventually the team on the back foot started to cause a bit of kerfuffle, No 8 (Jack Hazelhurst) was a noteable pest to watch for sure.  With much pressing a ropey defensive kick was forced with a quick cross flicked on by Cairns who saw the ball drop inches wide of the far stick - close sir, but not close enough.  Before the break Smith for 74 had a free-kick cleared and that was that - no goals, plenty of intrigue, everything still in the balance - fascinating stuff and not the outcome thus far that many of us predicted (including that cycloptic hag who was in danger of costing me some much-needed money).

From the shaded seats where the wind blew and dithered our digits we wandered to the opposite side of the ground, by heck the warmth of the sun was beautiful.  The teams came out soon after, who would make that crucial breakthrough?

The start to the second half was swift, both sides were showing a good hunger but 1874 were carrying on from where they left off with No 9 (Scott McGowan) cutting in, placing one for Koral to nail who just put the ball slightly off target.  Smith came next, with high impetus and much focus he darted between two rear men and let fly - the side netting was struck.  No 10 (Sam Hare) connected with a cross minutes later, the ball was deflected and from a follow-on build up the apex of the assault was a shot boomed into the great blue beyond.  Some curry-hot tackles warmed a few ankles, perspired brows were plentiful, calls for an upsurge in desire rang around the pitch.  Despite the consistent pressing of the Northwich ranks, the COL rearguard displayed a superb discipline and offered little in the way of clear cut chances.  Shots came, the COL No 1 (Ben Ashcroft) was always in the right spot at the right time and quick to sprawl and gather - he was having a good game that's for sure and added to his teams robust infrangibility.  Smith for the green and blacks connected with a corner next, his feet were quick and a dig released, once again the gloved bugger kept his netted orifice unpenetrated (phwoar).  The purple-pack eventually had a push, a corner was placed into the perilous zone and out of the melee Northwich broke.  The tempo rose, No 3 (Matt Russell) was eventually found, a low rasper beheaded many daisies and looked problematic, once more the shot was stopped and collected by the last man standing.

Onwards we went, like the cupboards of Old Mother Hubbard (Fanny if you knew her personally) the scoresheet looked set to remain bare.  A free-kick for 74 was sweetly struck by Smith but the goalkeeper produced the goods again with a quite lovely tip over. The corner came and went as did another down the opposite end - we now entered the final stages of this captivating battle?  Would the persistent pressure finally burst a dam, would a surprise attack burst the bubble of many rising hopes - who the Hell knew?  End to end stuff ensued, from a Liverpool push 74 kicked back with a delicious move.  A ball entered the box, great confusion came, Smith found the ball at is feet after the mittman didn't make the necessary contact, swung a shank, oh yes - 1 - 0 it was, the striker's team-mates looked rather pleased to say the least and great celebration was had as the players ran to their supporters and jigged with joy.   There was little time left now, the City of Liverpool came on strong.  Cairns had a shot deflected, a corner followed, a strong header rattled the framework, huge gasps and groans fractured the air, another ball came, the keeper reached and pushed away.  Yet another ball was launched the same way. one touch followed, No 15 (Daniel Dalton) shot, the keeper sprawled and...just held onto it.  A good hoof down field, the final whistle came, the cup was won, 1874 Northwich had done it, against the odds and down to sheer desire and determination.  Man of the Match was picked well before the end and before the goal, No 6 (Aaron Smith) was awesome today, he put in an almost complete performance that exhibited great urgency, quality control, high awareness and admirable ground coverage - a fine component in a very well-drilled machine.  We watched the presentation, acknowledged a team deserved of the win, and went home for a rest!

FINAL THOUGHT - For  a final, this was a very good do indeed, and worth everyone's time and interest with the slight underdogs coming out on top and showing what can be done with a bit of thought and some great shovelfuls of desire.  1874 Northwich deserved this, they worked like Trojans, never gave up the ghost and just looked like the team who were, to coin a phrase, 'on it'.  It was a fitting finish for a team who have underachieved in the league and just reward for a lot of good endeavour.  I always enjoy watching this lot, it is good to see the honours of the season well shared, no complaints from this end.  City of Liverpool have had a long hard season and perhaps this was one tough game too far.  I am sure the league title and promotion were top of their hit-list at the beginning of the year and that is what they got - I think they can all hold their heads high and look back on the season with many good memories and some great pride.   Today they never got going, in fact weren't allowed to, but they kept on in there and showed why they are a force to be reckoned with.  At 0-0 they were always in with a shout and I am sure, before that final whistle, no-one would have written them off - says a lot methinks.   So, game done, a ruddy good do, you know, it is showpieces like this that prove that all and sundry who are involved in Non-League are doing it the best and proper way - let us all keep it up!  Note must be made to both sets of fans who were supportive throughout, friendly and took all in their stride and accepted the end result - tis how it should be and a big Fungalised applause to all.  To add, the fortune-telling woman who persuaded me to part with my hard-earned dosh may have only had one eye but I blacked it anyway - I hope that finalises this report on a positive note and gives solace to any other punters who have been led astray!

Thursday 2 May 2019

HIGH VALUE VALE VICTORY

30th April 2019 - Congleton Vale 2 v 1 FC St Helens - I am scurrying away like a squirrel with a nut complaint, dashing here and there like Albert Steptoe in a junk shop, forever twitching like the pecker of Scooby-Doo near a Hot-Dog stall (he did have trouble interpreting things) - it all gets a little too much but, I am keeping afloat and intent and doing what I can, when I can, for things I am rather fond of.  Work was busy but the whip was cracked, a walk home was grand with a few wildlife species seen that were new for the year.  The best thing noted was the hoverfly (Leucozona lucorum), I like these things, they contribute to keeping all we humans alive and help make the planet a better place to live - think on!  The journey down to the ground today was steady enough, we arrived and after some tea and a bag of crisps I sought a teamsheet.  I came up trumps thanks to a bloke called Graham (cheers fella) and awaited the kick-off.  7.30pm was the start time, by heck, if we have a clear run home we can catch the re-runs of Within These Walls starring Googie Withers.  I once went to the doctors for withered goolies - the link I make though is rather insubstantial with one 'letter' making all the difference.  The wrinkling of the said conkers had nothing to do with good old Googie - I just felt the need to mentioned my nuts again, I think I have a problem.  PS - on the way down me and the missus chomped some yoghurt coated almonds - the nut theme was maintained.

The game began, the home team pressed first with an accurate cross destined for the incoming No 7 (Stan Tatters) but the defending No 4 (Paul Meadows) was up with the lark and put in a sterling header.  A kick from the angle was played short, No 3 (Richie Booth) blasted but could only fire into the clement evening air.  Another quick move was fluent, made up of 3 sharp passes and finalised by a dig just off line.  Things were warming up quite nicely when the guests sprang their first attack with a ball out wide duly rifled into the box that the flashing No 2 (Stephen Ashton) just couldn't nudge home.  Another thrust came for The Saints, No 9 (Kieren Curtis) displayed great movement, No 3 (Brad Green) gathered out on the flank, put in an acute cross with No 10 (John Pilkington) galloping towards the back post and arriving just too late.  Congleton now brushed themselves down after these hair-raising scares, a few 50/50 decisions went their way and helped the cause and then a decent move came with No 9 (Brandon Moores) at the latter end and putting forth a real bruising shot that once more failed to stay on line.  Straight down the other end we went, the visitors were hustling, a cute through ball found No 8 (Jake Arkell) who instantaneously touched goalward only to be denied by a sprawling mittman - this was a very incessant and rewarding game, the impetus was high, the action unending, all we needed now was a goal.

As the tempo was maintained, The Vale started to hold the territorial advantage with the first strike nearly had when a St Helen's defender saw his clearance charged down and the ball fall to the alert Moores of the host team.  The touch to goal was true enough, the keeper's flung carcass was negotiated, somehow the ball trickled by the far stick.  St Helens had a free-kick, Curtis chanced his peg but his effort was a couple of feet too high.  The visitors came again, the break was looking dangerous but the home No 1 (Cameron Phelps) was out and thumped one the full length of the park.  The ball landed in the opposing danger zone, the defenders lacked conviction and in snuck Moores who duly buried and broke this fascinating deadlock.  Within minutes of this opening goal the Congleton pack came on again and won a free-kick just inside the St Helens half.  Booth hit a long ball in, Moores pulled back and No 6 (Dan Beuhler) roamed in and doubled the home tally - thank you indeed.  The hosts continued to maraud, the net was rippled once again with a superb cross from No 11 (Oliver Griffiths) glanced home by the rising bonse of No 10 (Aaron Cook), the offside flag was rather cruel to say the least.

The final flings of the first period saw the guests win a corner after their Ashton had exhibited some rather sweet tootsies.  The ball in was way too long and a follow-on free-kick and corner were both lacking in true accuracy.  Congleton had one last push, a bonus dig saw a travelling defender nearly put the ball into his own net and then, after 2 more corners, we were done.

Myself and my good lady spent the break doing a cryptic crossword which I duly completed later that night.  'I twice bent my willy backwards to the shouts of Goody Goody' had me troubled and 'The erect umpire had trouble with his arse' nearly caught me out but after working the cranial gunk the answers were discovered and my pen filled in the appropriate squares.  

The second half began with more great earnest, The Vale rushed, Griffiths fed Cook, the shot was too high but it was good to see the tempo maintained.  Several shots came towards The Saint's goal, No 17 (William Buckley) had a couple of wild digs, No 2 (Damon Oakes) blistered a howitzer that was also untamed and then Moores robbed a defender, had the mitter to beat but could only strike the far flung legs.  The ball went loose, Griffiths was there to bury, boom, way over.  Eventually the growing tide was defied, the travelling team sprang from nowhere, No 18 (Jack Graham) launched a beauty, the post was clattered in resounding style - the effort deserved better.  The hosts bounced back, Griffiths bust a bollock and won a free-kick, the ball in led to a breakaway but the home teams back-tracking was exceptional and all peril was duly piddled on.

With great gusto the game progressed, Beuhler for The Vale jumped on a defensive error and had only the keeper to beat.  A block came, a free-kick eventually ensued, Cook struck and was only slightly shy of the far upright.  Suddenly St Helens summoned themselves, a powerful surge caught the hosts on the hop, No 7 (Liam Houghton) collected and hit a lovely bender, the ball curved and found the inside of the post, what a sugar-sweet shocker, what a way to get his teams hopes revived!  Once again, the hosts responded, a free-kick was smartly delivered, Cook rose and applied a power header, it was a shame to see the effort flash over the horizontal.  The trailing team struck back, two shots were blocked, a corner knocked away and belted back by the alert Ashton - inches wide.

Into the last 10 minutes, St Helens were making a good effort to get back in this one, Congleton Vale were earning their crust the hard way although two poor free-kicks from the guest gloved guardian nearly awarded the hosts a couple of bonus goals. Both duff digs came back with interest, both failed to hit the mark and then M. Houghton at the other end nipped in and sent in a low shot that was also off-line - by heck, the shooting boots were certainly lacking in accuracy tonight.  The finale remained hectic, The Saints came mighty close when a dangerous ball in was somehow bumbled behind at the very last whilst right at the death another stunning cross came the same way but the home No 5 (Jack Clews) stood strong, stood proud and snuffed out the imminent peril.  And that was that folks, a cracking match and one heavily pregnant with much productive endeavour.  Man of the Match for me goes to Congleton Vale's No 11 (Oliver Griffiths) for a relentless running game, a general awareness that allowed him to pick out several neat passes and a willingness to run forward and backward when the need arose.   Note must also be made that the lad was on the receiving end of some hard but fair tackles and duly got up, dusted himself down and played on without complaint - that I hope will be rewarded and will help him have a good and respectful career - well done that man.

FINAL THOUGHT - And what a ruddy good night out this was.  The weather was spot on, the crowd small but very keen, the commitment by all players at this late stage in the season highly applaudable and the consistent animation and competitiveness a true testament to the Cheshire League and all involved.  I thought both teams were well matched but the hosts did deserve the end 3 points (just).   The only aspects both sides need to work on is their finishing, this could have been a game of umpteen goals had the sharp-shooters been more composed and more brutal in front of goal.  Having said that, this was a fast paced, balls-out game and played in good spirit by all.  Both units have had an average season but there is an abundance of promise on show and note has been made to catch up with them both several times during the next campaign.   Before then though I have the hosts pencilled in at an away game at Greenalls Padgate St Oswalds - now that could be interesting to say the least and if the match is as good as this I will have no complaints.   PS - the answers to the half-time cryptic clues I was struggling to get to grips with are 'Bon-bon' and 'Rectum' - I think the compiler may also have a problem.