22nd January 2022 - Cheadle Heath Nomads 3 v 1 Alsager Town - This is the first report of the year due to a stodgy start, a need to pick and choose where I scribble and having a slight problem re-capturing my mojo. The Covid fiasco, the empty headed people, the general piss-take and the days of dishrag grey skies have jaded me no end and with the masses pissing on their own chips, the Mother In Law in hospital again and my good lady worrying her lovely head, I have good reason to be a pissed off bugger, Never fear though, Fungalised defiance and determination runs deep and I am being productive in many ways. Work on my latest books has been solid of late and I have seen a few new bands this year as well as reaching a total of 50 matches attended for the season.
The morn was spent decorating, typing up some wildlife records and listening to obscure DIY noise by The Conspiracy, Little Bohemia, Smashing Red and other such creative forces. I have my own gig next week, rest assured it will be under-the-radar, as pure as the driven snow and not built on shittery, posing and pleasing the socialites - you see, I am still chomping.
I arrived at the local ground in good time, nattered with some fine, reliable faces, had a brew and 2 sausage sex rolls, one of which I ate whilst the other I shoved up my arse. I took up my usual position beneath dreary skies and scrawled out my observations on another 90 minute session of ball-booting effort.
The jet-clad authoritarian blew his shrilling gadget, the globe was animated with the first unit to create anything worthy of ink spilling being the hosts who dashed forth and had a penalty shout duly turned down by the referee. The Bullets quickly pounced next, a shot came that was tidily saved with a follow-up dig also palmed away, this time onto the post and back into the keepers arms. Moments later the ball was stroked into the opposite net by a keen No 10 (Kyle Foley) although his erection of celebration was soon quelled by the numbing flag of offside. The arousal levels were soon raised again though when Foley came on strong and No 11 (George Blackwell) sent in a cross that looked to be heading to the belfry of No 9 (Daniel McLaughlin) but instead dropped straight into the net - well, they all count.
From here the Nomads continued to play good, honest, 'on the deck' decent football making the guests earn their onions. The game though became a battling affair with Alsager more than holding their own. The next chance came the way of the visitors with No 10 (Stephen Jones) going on a fine, carving run that ended in the box with the final shot neatly blocked by the home No 1 (Adam Rigby). A corner followed, it had great swing and surprised the attacking Jones whose head the globe pinged off and went over.
Alsager came again soon after, No 7 (George West) pitched a superb ball over the top that Jones gathered and sent towards goal, once again the keeper saved his side's bacon. A follow-up punt came, it was closer to hitting the recently opened George Gibbons Brothel in Cheadle Hulme rather than the back of the net. It seems as though we know where the best place to score is, although cross-eyed women dressed as football players has never been my thing.
Nomads now upped the urgency levels, No 2 (Robert Lewis) flew the line like a Moorhen with an avian pervert hot on its tail. A fizzing cross came that exposed McLaughlin's neck as being too short. The chance went begging, but the same unit were foaming with desire, came on again with a quite sumptuous cross finding No 3 (Kieran Alley) at the back post who duly controlled and cracked home - a quite simple, but eye-catching goal.
At 2 goals down the guest gang needed to summon up a response, but the best they could offer was a dig over the bar by their ever-willing No 11 (Bobbie McDonnell). The closing stages of the half saw the Alsager keeper make a good save from a flashing Blackwell shot and then Foley put in a low-drilled cross that just needed the merest touch to send it into the net - alas that touch failed to materialise. One last effort came via the toes of Alsager's No 9 (Christopher Smith) but genuine power was lacking and that was that.
For the break I stayed put and chatted with Johnny D who had recently started a collection of prosthetic legs in the hope that a civil war would break out soon. John's business prowess is always to be taken seriously after his investment in absorbent underpants paid off when working in the Diuretic Gas Wars of Limpopo. The man doesn't piss about when a chance to make some dosh is concerned, I duly put in an order for two-PVC feet and a plastic nipple - one never knows.
Half-two began in balanced fashion. Thoughts of limb replacements were banished as the Alsager mob strained hard to make some headway. The Nomads just couldn't make any territorial advances as the opposing force pressed on. The hosts stood firm however and eventually started to build some momentum. After a grinding period a push came, Foley gained command of the globe and fancied his chances from range, The peg swung, the ball was sent forth with loft and loop and as the keeper dove it was all to no avail as the top corner was found and the striker jigged around like a man with an arse full of happy pickles. What a beauty, the delight was justified although when inserting pickles into one's rear always remember to add a finishing cork.
From here we were witness to 6 on-the-bounce corners for the Nomads, several of which held good threat. Alsager looked relieved to have survived the half-dozen angled assaults and the hoofer was equally relieved to get back to normal play and be substituted soon after. The home lads where now on top, Foley had another dig with a low daisy decapitator just humming wide of the timber and then, as in the words of Cilla Black - surprise surprise, it was as Alsager advanced, the ball was played in to No 8 (Ben Darby) who took one look and drilled home the ball to gain an unexpected comeback goal.
We entered the darkening dregs with Alsager renewed but stumbling at the last, The hosts bounced back, a ball was passed to Foley who ran free and noted the keeper off his line. A chip-shot came, the keeper reached up on high and got a mitt in the way - ooh the lucky blighter. With a few minutes more played out in middling fashion the game was called to halt and I was left to bid farewells and ponder the Man of the Match. The choice was Cheadle Heath Nomad's No 5 (Thomas Greenfield) for a quite concrete rear-guard session that was carried out with authority, good discipline and a high level of exactitude. Keep it up good fellow.
FINAL THOUGHTS - Despite walking through cerebral treacle of late a visit to the Nomads is always a tonic due to the fact there are some good faces involved, a warm welcome guaranteed and the team always tries to play fair, honest football. Today they got their just deserts and ran out winners due to effective off the ball work, some improved decision making and one stunning goal. This could be the start of a rewarding run and with a few choice signings of late, I can't see why not. Alsager Town have been involved in a minor upheaval recently but today exhibited sound evidence of a team sorely underachieving. The lads worked hard and for 2 thirds of the game put in an applaudable display with many attacking moves well thought out and just failing at the last. I can see no reason why they will stay in the bottom three and am hoping they build up a good head of steam soon. Their No 7 (George West) was a particularly eye-catching component and their strikers have net-busting capabilities that just need tapping. Keep an eye on The Bullet's folks, firing blanks is not their thing.
And that is that, next stop Maine Road v Alsager Town, hopefully the Mother-in-Law will get better, the skies will donate a bit of sun and Johnny D will throw in a bonus synthetic tit due to my company loyalty. The arthritic fingers are crossed.
No comments:
Post a Comment