TRIUMPHANT TOWN

9th September 2023 - Dronfield Town 2 v 1 Armthorpe Welfare - A trip across the moors was had, we were in Hoyland for 8.50 and 10 minutes later we had entered Tinker's Cafe and were partaking of some scran, a brew and a mandible wag.  Soon after we were meeting a few good green folk and leading a walk at an area that is soon to be turned to concrete.  The suited and booted assassins of our kids futures are having an easy ride, by doing nowt is contributing to a downward swing - this punk bastard says the arse must be moved, I shall not be culpable for the shittery.  In blazing heat we pootled for a couple of hours, clocked up 65 species with some good critters in the mix.  A brew back at Tinkers was had and a good natter before we set off for some footballing action.  We initially parked up in the wrong place, found somewhere more convenient and duly checked with a resident if we could park outside his house.  The fine gent said 'yes'.  A walk was had, we took the wrong route, negotiations were made, bearings were found, the entrance of the ground was tucked away like a burrowing butt beetle in the crack of a sweating arse - phew.

The sun continued to sizzle and after acquiring drinks we made for cover.  Alas the spot chosen was still under the solar power so the top was removed and my titties duly bronzed.  Just prior to kick-off some young nippers were running themselves ragged in a mini-game of soccer and duly having a grand time of it (albeit with purple faces and dripping brows).  Penalties settled matters and after photos were taken the pitch was cleared and the main game took centre stage.

At the sacred footballing hour matters began with both teams indulging in a bit of foreplay and duly feeling each other out (by heck it was too warm for such dastardly behaviour).  No 9 (Max Rhodes) for the hosts was showing good fizz early on and was eventually released but could only send his eager shot low and slightly shy of the far stick.  Dronfield continued to make the greater advancements with a throw in laid off to No 7 (Harry Walker) who sent forth a low daisy decapitator that once again strayed the wrong side of the upright.

Armthorpe Welfare, despite being on the back foot, were grafting hard but producing very little.  A corner was eventually won due to No 2's (Luke Boxwell) determined running. The ball posted went long and the gent at the back post just couldn't stretch his neck enough to guide the ball on target.  The guests came once more after robbing the ball from a dilly-dallier.  A player dashed ahead but his number eluded me due to the shit clash of shirt and digits. Boxwell was fed and had a shot that quivered the inside of the timber.  The ball was there to be snaffled up, No 19 (Daniel Boulton) was on it like a pervert on a discarded jazz mag.  The ball was buried, 0-1 it was, the game needed it.

Dronfield were now asked questions, they responded with a long ball to Rhodes who took one touch, turned and had a pop.  The ball failed to trouble the keeper - it should have at least been on target.  With the game pattern set the guests were defending well whilst the hosts were needing to up their 'off-the-ball' work-rate. Eventually Dronfield moved with real focus and entered the box.  A shot came, the ball whizzed wide, a tackle had been made and a clattering had, the referee pointed to the spot - No 10 (Samuel Bebbington) stepped up and did a Bing Crosby - 'Straight Down The Middle' - 1 - 1 it was.

As the game progressed a certain staleness crept in with no team making any great strides.  A solid run from the home No11 (Joe Pearson) looked promising and when his pass found Rhodes one expected another goal to follow.  Alas the punt at the netting was off the mark (again).  Soon after No 20 (Callum Mawbey) was setting his sights on the edge of the box but was also guilty of missing the mark - the shooting boots were certainly in need of a bit of spit and polish that was for sure.

Rhodes for the hosts continued to be an active role player and after dashing the flank, riding a tackle and putting in a neat cross he must have been slightly frustrated by the visiting keeper who read matters well and collected with relative ease.  

The half was coming to a close, Armthorpe were looking a little disjointed, the Dronfield pack seemingly growing in desire and belief.  Suddenly the guests had a lapse in focus, a long ball caught them with their trousers down and conkers dangling.  Rhodes was away and only had the keeper to beat which he did with a cool brow and gave his side the uplifting half-time lead.  Both teams looked ready for the break with Dronfield Town displaying a certain spring in the step as they left the field.

My good lady went for the half-time drinks whilst I glazed the paps and perused my notes.  There were many folks flagging in the heat and I saw one bloke take on the look of a beetroot with problematic blood pressure.  At least he was art and abart though, bloody good on him and I hope a good cold beer was waiting for him when he got home. 

And with the good lady rejoining me the second half got underway.  Dronfield had their peckers up (in this heat I really don't know how they managed it) and created an early chance that saw the final shot end up in the awaiting keepers arms.  After some AW pressure that lacked the killer touch Dronfield broke but Rhodes who was the apical component tried to execute a cheeky chip that only transpired to be a rather limp lob lob (no wonder in this heat). Down the other end we went,  The robust No 5 (James Baxendale) chanced his shank with a 35 yard free-kick.  The ball was sweetly belted, the direction was sound but the home No 1 (Lewis Naylor) was up to the task and produced a quality save.  The resultant corner bore bugger all.

A few delays for injuries now impeded the general flow and little worthy of reporting came the way of this onlookers orbs.  The visitors eventually earned themselves a corner with the delivery being sharp and with a gentle swerve.  I was as surprised as anyone to see that no contact was made and the choice ball was wasted.  From nowhere Pearson for Dronfield Town was released, all the player needed do was beat the back-pedaling keeper.  The attempted chip was made, I immediately reached for the pen and considered scribbling such caveman descriptions as 'wank', 'shite' and 'crap-o-tastic' - I stayed rather gentlemanly and noted the miss down as a 'ruddy bad show sir'.

Shots did come at each end, somehow the scorecard stayed clear of any further blemishes.   A player for the welfare had a dig that lacked weight but somehow found its way through a pack of players and kissed the upright - this was a stern warning for the leading tribe and note was duly taken.  The final throes saw Bebbington for the home ranks dash forth only to see his effort palmed over.  The angled hoof came, no attackers made a lunge although the ball eventually fell to No 12 (Connor Chapell) whose shot at the angle led to another corner.  Again the globe was posted, the keeper fumbled and for a split second the chance to bury the game was there, somehow the AW ranks survived.

A final Dronfield corner saw a header saved on the line, a shot blocked and the guests survive by the skin of their now clammy scrotums.  Soon after the game was done and the final desperate scramblings were resigned to the ranks of 'Non-League History'. A short contemplation before putting the rear in gear and Man of the Match was given to Dronfield Town's No 5 (Arran Bovill), a very solid component who put the head on the ball when needed, worked with composure and defended like a good un' on a very trying day.  

We had a good journey home and were happy with our day out.  A few wildlife records, a footy report and sincere thanks is all we can offer - on we go.

FINAL THOUGHTS - A grand day out again, a decent ground visited and two teams seen who are struggling so far but, with patience, commitment and belief can turn things around and get the season moving.  The guests just lack a certain belief it seems and communication between players is not 100%.  many a time possession was had with no options given by players off the ball and looking to make space.  This left the one in possession in two minds which of course caused undue fuss, an area I feel that needs looking at.  There are one or two good players in the midst of this team though, the hefty bloke at the back a man with a footballing brain, one particular example.  Dronfield Town created many chances and should have grabbed more than just two goals today - is this a theme that will haunt them throughout the campaign?  I liked the movement upfront and the eager effort put in by several players.  Again, the movement off the ball is key to keeping the opposing forces guessing and on the back foot but I reckon I have seen enough today to note a team set to move up a few league places in the near future.  A snippet of positivity, combined with some good work will help them along - here's hoping both teams do the business as matters unwind and if I can catch them again at some point my support shall be there.  Onwards with the underdogs and if anyone is wondering, no we didn't dash home to watch England - that patriotic claptrap and making idols out of overpaid prima-donnas isn't for me - tha' gotta keep it real tha' knows.

BLANKETY BLANK OR WANKETY WANK

28th August 2023 - Atherton Laburnum Rovers 0 v 0 Shelley FC - I turned 58 today, it was nothing to celebrate and I wanted nothing.  My kind lasses got me a few gifts though and a book about a killer fungus was a horrifying treat that I couldn't wait to start.  Prior to the game myself, Gillian and my daughter Katie visited my parents, two aging buggers with a cranked look at life and who want to just keep things simple - nowt wrong with that.  My Dad made me one of his fruit cakes. I am a cake lover, let me tell you, his cakes are the best - they are of a rich brown in colour, mightily moist and adorned with sumptuous fruits - akin in fact to a Gibbon's defecation. I had a quick slice before we left and it was spot on the mark and bore no resemblance in taste to a primates pooping's (thank goodness).

Before arriving at the ground proper we acquired a spot of lunch, parked up at Crilly Park soon after and after noting a few Milky Conecap Fungi (Conocybe apala) in the carpark entered the ground with my mate STP Stu.  Brews were had, it was a tall order it seemed with my cranial gunk getting all confused and the good lady serving equally perplexed - I think it may be an age thing in my case, the lass serving didn't look to be going bald so all I could blame it on was overspill of nervous energy when being faced with such a good looker as me (yes, I am being self-effacing).

So perches taken, jaws wagged and anticipation was of a home win with hopes for an abundance of birthday goals.  When I stated earlier that I didn't really want anything for my birthday I didn't realise two aural scouts from each team had been listening in - ooh the rotten bastards.

The game began with an early Shelley corner.   It was bilge.  ALR cultivated their first attack with a sugar-sweet ball finding No 10 (Kyle Robinson-Murray) who struck first time.  The protector of the meshing was on it, the ball went loose and a corner was won.  The ball entered the box, all craniums were missed and a careless handball quashed any further danger.  The hosts continued to create the greatest impetus, No 6 (Jack Lever) and No 7 (Jack Flight) partook of some good link-up play with a cross delivered that was too high for the nut of No 9 (Lewis Rawsthorn) to make any major impression with.

From here the shots came but no penetration was had.  Rawsthorn for the hosts put a free-kick over the horizontal and Shelley had a rare foray forth after the home lads pissed about in midfield and lost possession. No 8 (James Bootland) was the beneficiary of the ball but his shot on goal could only find the awaiting keepers mid-section and clutching arms. Straight up the other end we went with Lever chancing his shank but instead of hitting the striking zone he duly put the wind up local resident Mrs Green who was in a nearby garden hanging up her husbands rather grey and frayed smalls - it was a wayward shot to say the least.

The first goal seemed an almost impossibility although the guests had a chance when the home mitter went on walk-about.  The moment of madness was survived but soon after the man between the sticks earned his crust when a loose ball was drilled by the Shelley No 10 (Jugal Thapa). A neat tip over the bar was needed to stop the initial goal, the corner that followed was ruddy awful.

ALR now turned the screw and applied some fair pressure.  A cross needed goalkeeping attention and was palmed away with an ensuing corner needing some cranial heave-ho to quell any threat.  As the first 45 minute period wound down Shelley broke with purpose.  No 3 (Daniel Lockwood) played to Bootland, a shot came and expectations rose but the ball was a defiant and awkward bastard today and rolled wide of the upright with disappointing determination.  The half ended just after the ALR's Robinson-Murray tried a hopeful lob that came closer to the aforementioned Mrs Greens shithouse window rather than the gaping onion bag.  Seconds later  Rawsthorn had the ball in the box only 5 feet out from the goal and somehow managed to put his effort wide - ooh it was enough to bring tears to ones eyes.

No movement was had for the break, we stayed put and considered the possibilities of a 0 - 0 game (what is known as a 'bullet' to many footballing zealots).  The chances seemed high and so, being a kind and caring soul, I offered my mate Stu a cyanide pill so as to avoid the 90 minute death knell - one has to be thoughtful in these situations.

The second period began, Atherton were playing with great gusto and determined to fracture the deadlock.  Several balls were put into the box with one falling to the feet of Flight who had time to bulge the bag but recklessly blazed over.  

The rain now began to fall, the delicate onlookers ran for cover, a chill pervaded the carcass, all and sundry needed the on-pitch action to warm the cockles.  Shelley surged, a cross from the end line was met by No 11 (Daniel Vinten) who put his attempt above the timber and then Robinson-Murray for the hosts was put free with only the keeper to beat.  The first goal of the day was looking likely but somehow a shot of shittery was borne and the target was yet again... missed.

Great energy and vigour was being shown all over the pitch, alas without composure and quality it was all wasted.  Several more shots came at the Shelley goal, the end results were utterly disappointing for players and fans alike.  Robinson-Murray came closest with a shot close-in but the travelling No 1 (Paul Day) produced a good save and kept his side in the mix.  Soon after a lost cause was chased down, a cross to ALR's Flight came but the contact was poor in the extreme, it was a golden chance wasted.

A slight tension now crept into the game as a few dubious decisions rankled several hoofers.  2 corners came for the home lads.  The first of these angled kicks saw the keeper fumble in the box but no takers arrive.  The second was met by the dome of No 4 (Lewis Adams) but the globe would not stay on target.  Shelley responded, the ball somehow managed to ping upward and when falling was met by the boot of 15 (Edward Busfield) whose choice volley was neatly dealt with by an alert goalie.

Time was now slipping away, once more shots came and shots flew wide, the referee decided that if we played until doomsday a goal would not be had and so, with great kindness, blew his whistle and called the game to a halt. In a game of no goals I am giving the Man of the Match to Shelley's No 1 (Paul Day) who did enough and made sure he made his presence felt as well as being in the right place at the right time when matters required it.  Personally I would have preferred him to have let 10 goals in, done a streak round the pitch and given me a £100 cheque but, such is this warped footballing realm.  We all went homeward without any goals to discuss and excitement at level 'minimum' but, it is always a pleasure to visit Crilly Park and today was just that.

FINAL THOUGHTS - Both teams need to do some work and do it pretty sharpish.  I reckon a bit of focus on players shouting for the ball, making sure their presence is felt and running off the ball would help both units improve the game day outcome.  Of course, it goes without saying that the shooting boots need attention and the composure at the apical end of the pitch needs great attention.  I think Shelley will get better as the season progresses as long as they play as a complete unit and maintain a certain stubborn resistance.  Atherton LR are in a good position but the arse could easily drop out of the campaign if the bag is not bulged and teams are not buried when the chance arises.  We are still in the embryonic stages of a long season but games and points are slipping by in what is a competitive league. It will be interesting to watch what transpires over the next few weeks and then take stock of matters - hopefully the fortunes of all will change for the better and some lucky blighter will be treated to a goal fest - we shall see.

BRIDGES CROSSED AND BURNT

27th August 2023 - Worsborough Bridge Athletic 0 v 3 Ramsbottom United - A trip across the moors was had early doors.  We left the leaking skies of Stockport and arrived in Hoyland one hour later whereupon we visited one of our mates for a brew, a catch up and a walk.  The walk was decent enough with a few fungi, insects, flowers, birds and galls all named and shamed.  A coffee break was grand and the downpour to close meant we had to make a dash for a lift and make sure we kept to our schedule.  After a short rest me and the missus bid our farewells and arrived at a sunny Worsborough Bridge to pay our dues, have a gypsies and perch the rears in anticipation of some FA Cup action.  We did acquire a brew, my cup of cha was adequate, the lasses hot chocolate lacked milk and was akin to a cup of sewerage - it was poured away with great disappointment.  Whilst watching the warm-up I checked around the ground to see if any waterpipes were connected to the shit-laden sea of the Blackpool coast - it seemed Barnsley had its own supply of turd water after all.

The game began at 2pm, the opening 2 minutes saw me amend my prediction for a draw and go for an away win, Worsborough didn't look to be up for this and this is what duly transpired.

The start was quiet enough but Ramsbottom looked more controlled and eventually won a dubious corner.  The ball was delivered with good pace but the strike-force was lacking and no early shocker was had.  A move soon after saw 4 quick passes lead to a cross into the Worsborough box with No 8 (Pa Jenkins) pulling the trigger and looking disappointed to see the ball fly wide of the mark.  Another smooth move mere moments later saw No 11 (Kida Chingwaro) out wide, post a fine ball to No 9 (Matthew Dudley) who put his belfry on the leather and sent the globe, once again, shy of the strike-zone - it really should have been the opening goal.

From here the home team scrambled and won a free-kick in the far corner of the pitch.  The ball was sent into the danger area, No 8 (Conor Glavin) popped up at the back stick but his headed attempt was easily gathered by the gloved guardian.  As matters progressed a certain balance was disrupted when the hosts were robbed of possession.  No 7 (Henri Ogunby) was the thieving blighter and he duly advanced with purpose.  The resident No 1 (Brett Souter) left his line to quell the threat but the wannabe marksman stayed cool and slotted the ball into the awaiting onion bag.  0-1 it was with the hosts now looking at a long afternoon of footballing labour.

The Rams had their peckers up, although The Briggers had a rare sortie forth that ended with a shot off target and a offside decision just in case.  The game started to throw-up all manner of midfield mistakes but, more often than not, any loose ball was won by the guests.  No 9 (Luke Francis) for the resident ranks though nearly earned himself some 'assist'  points when he collected, swiveled and played the ball to No 7 (Harley Holt) who let fly a screamer that just wouldn't stay on line - it was a ruddy good effort deserved of more.

Matters became more competitive as time ticked on with Worsborough rising to the task.  Francis had a pop but his effort was closer to decapitating a flasher in the local country park than hitting the back of the net.  In return No 10 (Conal Gallagher) blazed a punt but only found the awaiting keepers midriff.  As the half wore down Ogunby for Rammy tried a cheeky in-box flick that didn't come off and even though the travelling blues stayed on top, that second goal wouldn't come.

We stayed put for the break, I noted that the recent hot chocolate that we poured away had given rise to a few fungal specimens and several flies that had partook of the said liquid were now lying on their backs, twitching with the final throes of life.  By heck that was a close call! These Yorkshire folk must have some tough constitutions.

After a snack and a banana we watched as the teams reappeared and expected the away win to be cemented in stone.  Rammy applied some good early pressure, a bit like a fat masseur squeezing one's testicular bag.  The first move forth came from a throw in with a delicious cross ensuing, Chingwaro at the back post nodding back and No 9 (Matthew Dudley) arriving just in time to stretch a shank and poke the ball home.  The lead was doubled, it looked like the match was won already.

Worsborough Bridge responded with a few forays forward that were lacking in vision and apical threat.  Ramsbottom held firm, won a free-kick that Dudley twatted over - I think the time for more creativity was upon us.  No 11 (James Woodhouse) was working up a good lather for the home lads but when released he delayed the shot and allowed the defender to block with relative ease.  More attacks came at each end, the only snag was an unwillingness to shoot on sight.

A few corners came, a yellow card and some chances went begging.  Some argy-bargy was unnecessary and not helping the home team's cause. Eventually Rammy moved forth with purpose with the eye-catching Chingwaro on the ball and looking to make a difference.  A pass and the ball was pinged skyward.  As the globe fell Chingwaro waited, lashed at the perfect moment and sent the ball home to bag his sides 3^rd and grab the goal of the game.  It was a choice moment as this player had really impressed with his display today.

Now the game began to wind down, the puff was running out of matters and the result was settled. A Rammy free-kick saw No 6 (John Black) look to add icing on the cake but the shot was wide of the mark.  A shot out of the blue nearly raised the roof (and a few erections no doubt) when a 30+ yard sizzler took the paintwork of the underside of the bar and yet somehow stayed out of the goal.  Cripes that would have been a beauty.  As the final seconds dwindled no further shake-ups came and when the referee blew there could be no complaints from either team.  Ramsbottom United's No 11 (Kuda Chingwaro) was the Man of the Match for me, a player with good feet, neat control, some solid composure and a willingness to work forward - the goal was a deserved bonus too.

We buggered off home at the final peeps, this had been a lovely visit although matters were marred at the end when I saw the local ambulance service carrying out a stomach pump on a guy gibbering away and uttering the words 'No, No, No - not the fuckin' liquid Cadburys again' - now I wonder what that was all about?

FINAL THOUGHTS - A grand ground to visit and one I hope to return to again in the near future, preferably after a good walk at Worsborough CP and some local tea and cake.  The home team though were outclassed today and lost too many 50/50 balls and didn't work as a force especially at the strike end of the park.  I am sure today was not reflective of how the season is going and I did note several players busting a bollock throughout the game and playing with undying fervour.  If composure is had and work on player awareness is concentrated on then the future may be a little more rosy than many may think.  Ramsbottom United seem a different prospect than the team I saw lose by 4 goals to a very efficient Wythenshawe FC.  They hold the ball well, battle in all areas and read the game with insightfulness.  The main area to work upon is making sure opportunities are taken and when they have a side on the ropes they duly pummel them into complete submission.  Despite being on top for most of this game they failed to bury matters early on.  A shock goal by the opposing force could so easily have brought unnecessary pressure.  Having said this, I reckon Rammy are capable of a good cup run and will only get better as the season unfolds - I am sure I will catch them again, hopefully in the next round of the cup (the fingers are crossed).