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.
Tuesday, 18 December 2018
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'!
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!
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!
Sunday, 9 December 2018
OSWEST-THREE AS THE VAUX ARE POPPED
8th December 2018 - FC Oswestry Town 3 v 1 Vauxhall Motors - A change of plans was had on the morn of the game as the weather was looking rather shifty and our planned game was in danger of being called off (later that day we found out it had been postponed, the decision was a choice one). 'Head southward' was the final decision and at 7.45am we set off in dirty weather looking forward to the day ahead. First port of call was Chirk Castle where we wandered for 3 hours and saw a few nice birds, clocked up 81 species of fungi and I exposed myself to a vicar who was out for a morning run. It was a political gesture and aimed to keep the man of the cloth pure - thank goodness my wife was with me to hold the brolly and fungi box whilst I dropped the trollies - she is a supportive old soul and always willing to help me pay the odd fine or two. Eventually all was tucked in, we arrived at the car and had a warm drink and some spiced ginger biscuits that were ruddy scrumptious. The drive to The Venue was short and done under rainbow streaked skies and we duly entered and had a warm meal to revive the soul. Pasta and garlic bread for the good lady (she's a veggie tha' knows), Gammon, 2 fried eggs chips and peas for me (I am a fatty tha' knows). With tea swilled we were doped up but forced the issue and took our seats on the balcony overlooking the pitch and awaited the game proper - here is what we got for our money!
A fuss-free start saw both teams play at a very sedate pace and look to settle-in to the game proper. The O's No 7 (Harry Bower) was the first player to hold threat when he picked the ball up in a very innocuous position and rolled forward like a stone intent on flattening some moss. He was given time to trespass and consider a shot from range which he duly took with both greedy feet. The ball was struck, looped at the last and dropped into the net over the disconcerted keeper - a peach of a strike, game on. The next action wasn't far away with a home goal kick sweetly touched on by their robust No 11 (David Howarth) that led to a short cross with No 4 (Michael O'Reilly) lashing one without apology. The startled mittman parried and the pressure was partially relieved but moments later, after the guests had a rare flurry, the potential was snuffed out and a long hoof from the rear culminated in a strong crack from No 10 (Ryan Jones). The mittman punched away, the VM engine was just ticking over, a spark was very much needed to get the Motors properly running. Another scarce attack saw No 10 (George Hassel) released and duly cross but the header that came was too light and wasn't even close to the strike zone. Oswestry were still ravenous and No 9 (Liam Parry) exuded hot determination and cut in at the angle before letting fly. Again the keeper was called into action and tidily tipped over. The corner came, discomfort caused and as the ball went out and came back in Hassell was in to knock over from mere inches out.
The visiting team were now nudging back into this one and were building with patience and looking to cross at the first opportunity. A hit and miss period followed and equilibrium suppressed excitement. The Vauxhall lads won a corner which came but was nutted disappointingly over by the effective and efficient No 8 (Haydn Cooper). The half continued without incident, the rain now lashed down and the cold started to creep in - we must be mad. Suddenly, from nothing, the travelling No 7 (Joe Brandon) fired and forced the keeper to save. No 11 (Damas Kiwanda) retrieved on the flank, jinked in and put in a sizzling cross that was connected with by the predatory Hassell. It was perfect timing and with 3 minutes left of the first half it really put the result up for grabs. At the death the same team nearly snatch a lead goal when a cross was poorly defended and Kiwanda just missed a half-chance - now that would have been a sickener and a surprise, The referee blew - this wasn't a classic but there was much to ponder.
Me and my good lady had a brew and shared a Boost Bar, by crikey that is a good lump of chocolate if ever I tasted one. As we huddled up the teams came back out, take yer pick folks, it was all down to who wanted it most!
The second period began with little in it, No 8 (Christopher Craven) nearly got the third strike with an outrageously audacious floater from a fair distance indeed. Time stood still the visiting keeper kept his peepers on the ball and did enough to tip onto the bar and then safely gather and spare any blushes. Jones had another dig soon after but the save was comfortable and then he had a second bite of the cherry when a free-kick was wonderfully delivered for him to only miss the target. No 9 (Benjamin Greenop) for the Motors could have also grabbed that crucial third goal when he put crust on ball from a floating kick inwards. The downward force was too strong and the ball hit the deck and pinged over much to the relief of the goal guardian. Chances now became scarce, Parry had a dig out of the blue but could only hit the keepers carcass and then the same player put nut on ball soon after but this time was inches off target. A pause in play was followed by a razor onslaught by the hosts. The ball went out wide, the cross hurtled in and Bower appeared from nowhere and slammed the ball home - it was the spark needed and a fist up the rear of the opposing team. The dynamics were now altered, Vauxhall Motors needed a gear change and a push on the accelerator or FC Oswestry would be gone into the wild grey murk with all three points tucked in their jockstraps.
The Motormen now advanced, Kiwanda worked in but the ball would just not settle. Eventually, from knotted shanks, the cross came and No 16 (Ben Holmes) got a shot away...but just shy of the sticks it went. We now entered the final phase, the guests were making all the running and dictating the tempo with their Captain Cooper, putting in some rewarding work. A quite scintillating passing move was cultivated from the fields of desperate hope, the O's stayed composed, pissed on the new shoots of belief and planted their own seeds of promise via a break with Parry galloping like a farmer with the shits and eventually squirting one that went just shy of the far timber. The Vaux pushed back, urgency was needed, they were caught napping at the back and a defender was pickpocketed and Howarth tried a long ranger, it was unfortunate not to kill the game dead. Into the dog end of the game, as The Town remained calm and neatly absorbed a ray of light was spotted, they dashed for glory with an attack akin to an hormonal dragon, full of fiery desire. The culmination was a well taken goal by Craven, much to the delight of his colleagues. It was a fine way to finish and during the few seconds that remained the visitors offered little to lessen the lead...and we were done. A tough game and a grinding effort but for me the points went the right way and the team that won produced the better quality at the right times. Man of the Match goes to FC Oswestry's No 7 (Harry Bower) who displayed some fine footwork, exposed a great inner desire and ran himself ragged for the Non-League cause. He did so with little fuss and got a well earned goal - well played sir! Cold and tired we headed home, it was a long drive but it had been a good day all round, until next time!
FINAL THOUGHT - And so to the end consideration and it goes something like this. Vauxhall Motors seemed off colour today, their paintwork looked scuffed, the steering out of sync and they seemed to have very few options when it came to gear changing. The exhaust needs blowing out, the windscreen cleaning and a clearer view had of where they want to go and how they want to get there had. The league position informs that they are better than this but if care is not taken, the crankshaft held in check before you know it the wheels can come off and you can end up in a lay-by of no hope. They play Maine Road next, a very hit and miss team, there is a chance there to repeat this minor blip but if they ain't on it from the start the hazard lights will be flashing. FC Oswestry have much to build on here and play in a very unruffled manner and can win with graceful aplomb or, like a masturbating Quasimodo, grind one out in ugly fashion. Today they did just enough and what was asked of them and seem to have a good moral within their ranks that will undoubtedly serve them well over the mid-winter period. It can be a trying time for teams, turning out on Grade-A grey days, freezing one's chuff off and getting kicked to buggery when they could be sat at home with a bag of chips and a warm cuppa whilst reading about the love-triangle of Elton Welsby, Lawrie McMenemy and Billie Jean King - Oh what babies came from that mess. The enthusiasm to get up and play is applauded from this end and they were good value for their win today, it goes without saying we will catch them again, let us see how things transpire.
A fuss-free start saw both teams play at a very sedate pace and look to settle-in to the game proper. The O's No 7 (Harry Bower) was the first player to hold threat when he picked the ball up in a very innocuous position and rolled forward like a stone intent on flattening some moss. He was given time to trespass and consider a shot from range which he duly took with both greedy feet. The ball was struck, looped at the last and dropped into the net over the disconcerted keeper - a peach of a strike, game on. The next action wasn't far away with a home goal kick sweetly touched on by their robust No 11 (David Howarth) that led to a short cross with No 4 (Michael O'Reilly) lashing one without apology. The startled mittman parried and the pressure was partially relieved but moments later, after the guests had a rare flurry, the potential was snuffed out and a long hoof from the rear culminated in a strong crack from No 10 (Ryan Jones). The mittman punched away, the VM engine was just ticking over, a spark was very much needed to get the Motors properly running. Another scarce attack saw No 10 (George Hassel) released and duly cross but the header that came was too light and wasn't even close to the strike zone. Oswestry were still ravenous and No 9 (Liam Parry) exuded hot determination and cut in at the angle before letting fly. Again the keeper was called into action and tidily tipped over. The corner came, discomfort caused and as the ball went out and came back in Hassell was in to knock over from mere inches out.
The visiting team were now nudging back into this one and were building with patience and looking to cross at the first opportunity. A hit and miss period followed and equilibrium suppressed excitement. The Vauxhall lads won a corner which came but was nutted disappointingly over by the effective and efficient No 8 (Haydn Cooper). The half continued without incident, the rain now lashed down and the cold started to creep in - we must be mad. Suddenly, from nothing, the travelling No 7 (Joe Brandon) fired and forced the keeper to save. No 11 (Damas Kiwanda) retrieved on the flank, jinked in and put in a sizzling cross that was connected with by the predatory Hassell. It was perfect timing and with 3 minutes left of the first half it really put the result up for grabs. At the death the same team nearly snatch a lead goal when a cross was poorly defended and Kiwanda just missed a half-chance - now that would have been a sickener and a surprise, The referee blew - this wasn't a classic but there was much to ponder.
Me and my good lady had a brew and shared a Boost Bar, by crikey that is a good lump of chocolate if ever I tasted one. As we huddled up the teams came back out, take yer pick folks, it was all down to who wanted it most!
The second period began with little in it, No 8 (Christopher Craven) nearly got the third strike with an outrageously audacious floater from a fair distance indeed. Time stood still the visiting keeper kept his peepers on the ball and did enough to tip onto the bar and then safely gather and spare any blushes. Jones had another dig soon after but the save was comfortable and then he had a second bite of the cherry when a free-kick was wonderfully delivered for him to only miss the target. No 9 (Benjamin Greenop) for the Motors could have also grabbed that crucial third goal when he put crust on ball from a floating kick inwards. The downward force was too strong and the ball hit the deck and pinged over much to the relief of the goal guardian. Chances now became scarce, Parry had a dig out of the blue but could only hit the keepers carcass and then the same player put nut on ball soon after but this time was inches off target. A pause in play was followed by a razor onslaught by the hosts. The ball went out wide, the cross hurtled in and Bower appeared from nowhere and slammed the ball home - it was the spark needed and a fist up the rear of the opposing team. The dynamics were now altered, Vauxhall Motors needed a gear change and a push on the accelerator or FC Oswestry would be gone into the wild grey murk with all three points tucked in their jockstraps.
The Motormen now advanced, Kiwanda worked in but the ball would just not settle. Eventually, from knotted shanks, the cross came and No 16 (Ben Holmes) got a shot away...but just shy of the sticks it went. We now entered the final phase, the guests were making all the running and dictating the tempo with their Captain Cooper, putting in some rewarding work. A quite scintillating passing move was cultivated from the fields of desperate hope, the O's stayed composed, pissed on the new shoots of belief and planted their own seeds of promise via a break with Parry galloping like a farmer with the shits and eventually squirting one that went just shy of the far timber. The Vaux pushed back, urgency was needed, they were caught napping at the back and a defender was pickpocketed and Howarth tried a long ranger, it was unfortunate not to kill the game dead. Into the dog end of the game, as The Town remained calm and neatly absorbed a ray of light was spotted, they dashed for glory with an attack akin to an hormonal dragon, full of fiery desire. The culmination was a well taken goal by Craven, much to the delight of his colleagues. It was a fine way to finish and during the few seconds that remained the visitors offered little to lessen the lead...and we were done. A tough game and a grinding effort but for me the points went the right way and the team that won produced the better quality at the right times. Man of the Match goes to FC Oswestry's No 7 (Harry Bower) who displayed some fine footwork, exposed a great inner desire and ran himself ragged for the Non-League cause. He did so with little fuss and got a well earned goal - well played sir! Cold and tired we headed home, it was a long drive but it had been a good day all round, until next time!
FINAL THOUGHT - And so to the end consideration and it goes something like this. Vauxhall Motors seemed off colour today, their paintwork looked scuffed, the steering out of sync and they seemed to have very few options when it came to gear changing. The exhaust needs blowing out, the windscreen cleaning and a clearer view had of where they want to go and how they want to get there had. The league position informs that they are better than this but if care is not taken, the crankshaft held in check before you know it the wheels can come off and you can end up in a lay-by of no hope. They play Maine Road next, a very hit and miss team, there is a chance there to repeat this minor blip but if they ain't on it from the start the hazard lights will be flashing. FC Oswestry have much to build on here and play in a very unruffled manner and can win with graceful aplomb or, like a masturbating Quasimodo, grind one out in ugly fashion. Today they did just enough and what was asked of them and seem to have a good moral within their ranks that will undoubtedly serve them well over the mid-winter period. It can be a trying time for teams, turning out on Grade-A grey days, freezing one's chuff off and getting kicked to buggery when they could be sat at home with a bag of chips and a warm cuppa whilst reading about the love-triangle of Elton Welsby, Lawrie McMenemy and Billie Jean King - Oh what babies came from that mess. The enthusiasm to get up and play is applauded from this end and they were good value for their win today, it goes without saying we will catch them again, let us see how things transpire.
Wednesday, 5 December 2018
THE PLOY OF THE ROVERS
4th December 2018 - Atherton Laburnum Rovers 3 v 2 AFC Blackpool - Another midweek match, another jaunt to Crilly Park and a chance to sit in the perishing cold and watch some Non-League footy (my private parts are really holding a grudge against me at the moment). Atherton are in the shit, sitting bottom of the heap, 7 points adrift and in need of a plan. The managerial staff and players have got it all to do and I was intrigued to see what they would come up with against a mid-table side looking to rise a little higher. 5 points from 19 games is disastrous, the threat of the drop was getting closer each and every week and I hope by sprinkling a little bit of Fungalised dust on one of my many favoured teams I may help them turn a corner. What would be the plan of action tonight? Would the stench get stronger, would there spring forth an unexpected flower of hope from the clogging manure of desperation or would AFC Blackpool find it within their charitable hearts to award the home team the full 3 points, an all-expenses trip to Honolulu for all players and staff alike and a night on the razzle with a Brian Moore look-a-like for the lasses serving refreshments and working the bar (I think not). AFC Blackpool are a hit and miss side and when 'on it' can turn over the best, when 'off it' can be beat by the worst (interesting to say the least). I love a trip up to the Mechanics Ground, I just wondered if the team had brought all their tools tonight to do a real dismantling job on a side in real jeopardy - this is the outcome of the contest.
The opening play was scrappy to say the least with the lemon-clad hosts winning an early free kick after No 10 (Luke Hincks) was unceremoniously dumped in the dirt on the periphery of the box. No 6 (Bradley Aspinall) took charge of the hoofing but his shot was shy of the nearside stick. In due course he had a similar gratis punt but this time he found the target but the effort lacked any wallop whatsoever and the keeper easily gathered. In response to the home teams efforts the tangerine draped guests had their own bonus ball delivered, it came, gave rise to some sketchy defending that was somehow put right and ALR looked to push on and grab the opening goal. From a game lacking initial quality Atherton were just about shading matters and just needed a touch of luck or a moment of killer quality. Suddenly more pressure was applied to the visiting rear ranks, a free-kick missed all heads but went straight back into the danger area. The ball headed goalward, a striker looked to touch, the keeper misread the situation, Aspinall was claiming the opening strike, his teammates looked absolutely delighted. From here the Rovers came on strong, they were definitely hungry for this one. Hincks provided a stunning ball next, No 9 (Jake Ambrose) burst through and knocked the ball out wide after the netman went AWOL. The ball fell to the feet of No 7 (Nathan Hatton) and a chance to double the lead was there - alas a crucial miss followed, would this be a moment to haunt the memory banks (add own sinister music please)?
Blackpool now started to bust guts and work back in. Their No 9 (Ben Duffield) battled well, put forth a mis-pass, that was duly missed by a defender allowing No 11 (Stephen Betteridge) to wildly thump one and ahem, miss the zone. Atherton reacted, a stunning ball saw a striker advance and get crowded out. The chance looked lost but the head was kept, a pass back came and woomph (artistic licence there) No 11 (Kyle Tomlinson) buried the ball with controlled authority. This was a turn up for the tattered books and The Laburnum Lads weren't done yet as they passed and moved with keen desire and kept on creating the odd half chance. A long ball from the Blackpool keeper nearly bore fruit from a barren tree with Duffield controlling well and Betterridge belting one just wide. Atherton were unflustered and duly saw out the half with a couple more tame efforts on goal and with a momentum that was focused and irrepressible. It was a good stint and much to the pleasure of the local yokels who had made the effort to support their side on a damp and miserable night. They deserve a mention, they could easily have stayed at home watching a bunch of attention seeking halfwits play Jungle Jim in a mock up farce using bugs and prime time bullshit to entertain the dead - I think they had made a wise choice!
A brew for half-time and a wander to the far side of the ground for a stand up. Fuck that, it was a pure chill zone and feeling the icy breath of Jackie Frost on our exposed faces we duly headed back to our seat in the stands before the chilled devil explored regions best left unmentioned. Arses parked, brew downed, the teams came back out and here are some more scribblings.
Another patchwork start came with the onus on the Blackpool pack to force the issue. Atherton though looked comfortable, they won the first corner which was knocked in and nutted out. Hincks did well to retrieve and try his luck, he was unfortunate not to trouble the keeper. Two more corners followed for the yellows, the first ended with a strong header that needed equally robust defending, the second went in and out and back in with Aspinall mere millimetres away from touching home - phew. The orange 'erberts bounced back, a half chance was on the cards but No 4 (Aaron Fleming) executed some determined and quite resolute defending that reflected his entire team's performance. Soon after the Blackpool mittman had an attack of the vapours and felt the need to roam, the lad was extremely fortunate not to see a long range effort ripple his meshings (in a non-sexual way of course). His team were now getting desperate (again in a non-sexual way although who knows in this day and age), but the ALR pack were simply hustling too hard to allow any time on the ball. Out of the blue Blackpool were given a free-kick on the edge of the box, the decision was scandalous, the guilty party was incensed and given a yellow card as extra insult. The kick came, struck the bar, dropped in a perilous area and was nutted home by No 6 (Daniel Pickering) much to the disgust of the resident followers. 2 -1 - now this was a test for all.
Now the tempo moved up several gears, as The Mechanics pushed Atherton broke, No 7 (Nathan Hatton) displayed stunning urgency and led the charge placing a lovely ball for Ambrose to latch onto. This looked like the third strike, the guest No 1 (Jon Broadstock) was quick off the mark and sprawled, good save that man, good save. As ALR continued to prod and poke Blackpool rode their luck and a ball over the top caught every home player with their trousers down that let Duffield sneak in, round the keeper and shockingly slot home. I say 'shockingly', I mean how the hell had the scoreline become 2 - 2 when the hosts looked so in control - don't ya just love this Non-League madness! The excitement levels rose, the game was now anyone's, end to end madness ensued. No 16 (Jake Dunford) for the hosts burst forth, the cross he put in was exemplary, Hincks received and drilled on the turn - just wide.
The back stretch was upon us, it was a wild finish with both teams searching for the winning strike. From the middle of the park a stunningly outrageous ball was played, Dunford was on the end of it and hurtled forth with rabid intent. All he had to do now was stay calm, resist the attentions of the defender and pick his spot. He did just that, it was a cracking moment, the supporters and management roared with joy, it was, if the truth be told, thoroughly deserved. A frantic last 5 minutes came, Blackpool were on the ropes and didn't use enough ammunition to escape the clutches of defeat. When the referee called for full time the Laburnum Rovers plan of action was complete and a step closer to the safety zone achieved. Their No 10 (Luke Hincks) was a pivotal player in the outcome, always thinking on his feet, looking to dismantle the opponents with a cutting pass and providing many fine balls for his colleagues to chase. A worthy Man of The Match methinks, the coming weeks will need more of the same. Me and my fine lady headed off home pleased with what we had witnessed, tis a good ground Crilly Park, and this match provided great entertainment - wonderful.
FINAL THOUGHT - The fact is that if Atherton Laburnum Rovers play like this each and every week they will avoid the drop and give their fans much to applaud. This was a result built on belief, desire and sheer hard work, they nearly got robbed of their due reward but the fact that they were pegged back and still found it within themselves to grind out the win says so much about the teams attitude and their capabilities. Even when times get tense they must remember this night and call upon defiant reserves. AFC Blackpool were far from a settled unit tonight and simply got outworked and were never allowed to settle thus making for a long hard night that made them a difficult unit to judge. In truth they only created two chances and snatched them both and the scoreline was perhaps more favourable than in reality. They will hold their own in this league but they better be careful, if the teams below them go on a surge and the Mechanics don't apply their spanner of correction a few nuts and bolts may come loose and a struggling inner engine may follow - dig in lads, I will have a wander up your way very soon and hope to witness a renewed effort with the end result a Tangerine Dream - think on!
The opening play was scrappy to say the least with the lemon-clad hosts winning an early free kick after No 10 (Luke Hincks) was unceremoniously dumped in the dirt on the periphery of the box. No 6 (Bradley Aspinall) took charge of the hoofing but his shot was shy of the nearside stick. In due course he had a similar gratis punt but this time he found the target but the effort lacked any wallop whatsoever and the keeper easily gathered. In response to the home teams efforts the tangerine draped guests had their own bonus ball delivered, it came, gave rise to some sketchy defending that was somehow put right and ALR looked to push on and grab the opening goal. From a game lacking initial quality Atherton were just about shading matters and just needed a touch of luck or a moment of killer quality. Suddenly more pressure was applied to the visiting rear ranks, a free-kick missed all heads but went straight back into the danger area. The ball headed goalward, a striker looked to touch, the keeper misread the situation, Aspinall was claiming the opening strike, his teammates looked absolutely delighted. From here the Rovers came on strong, they were definitely hungry for this one. Hincks provided a stunning ball next, No 9 (Jake Ambrose) burst through and knocked the ball out wide after the netman went AWOL. The ball fell to the feet of No 7 (Nathan Hatton) and a chance to double the lead was there - alas a crucial miss followed, would this be a moment to haunt the memory banks (add own sinister music please)?
Blackpool now started to bust guts and work back in. Their No 9 (Ben Duffield) battled well, put forth a mis-pass, that was duly missed by a defender allowing No 11 (Stephen Betteridge) to wildly thump one and ahem, miss the zone. Atherton reacted, a stunning ball saw a striker advance and get crowded out. The chance looked lost but the head was kept, a pass back came and woomph (artistic licence there) No 11 (Kyle Tomlinson) buried the ball with controlled authority. This was a turn up for the tattered books and The Laburnum Lads weren't done yet as they passed and moved with keen desire and kept on creating the odd half chance. A long ball from the Blackpool keeper nearly bore fruit from a barren tree with Duffield controlling well and Betterridge belting one just wide. Atherton were unflustered and duly saw out the half with a couple more tame efforts on goal and with a momentum that was focused and irrepressible. It was a good stint and much to the pleasure of the local yokels who had made the effort to support their side on a damp and miserable night. They deserve a mention, they could easily have stayed at home watching a bunch of attention seeking halfwits play Jungle Jim in a mock up farce using bugs and prime time bullshit to entertain the dead - I think they had made a wise choice!
A brew for half-time and a wander to the far side of the ground for a stand up. Fuck that, it was a pure chill zone and feeling the icy breath of Jackie Frost on our exposed faces we duly headed back to our seat in the stands before the chilled devil explored regions best left unmentioned. Arses parked, brew downed, the teams came back out and here are some more scribblings.
Another patchwork start came with the onus on the Blackpool pack to force the issue. Atherton though looked comfortable, they won the first corner which was knocked in and nutted out. Hincks did well to retrieve and try his luck, he was unfortunate not to trouble the keeper. Two more corners followed for the yellows, the first ended with a strong header that needed equally robust defending, the second went in and out and back in with Aspinall mere millimetres away from touching home - phew. The orange 'erberts bounced back, a half chance was on the cards but No 4 (Aaron Fleming) executed some determined and quite resolute defending that reflected his entire team's performance. Soon after the Blackpool mittman had an attack of the vapours and felt the need to roam, the lad was extremely fortunate not to see a long range effort ripple his meshings (in a non-sexual way of course). His team were now getting desperate (again in a non-sexual way although who knows in this day and age), but the ALR pack were simply hustling too hard to allow any time on the ball. Out of the blue Blackpool were given a free-kick on the edge of the box, the decision was scandalous, the guilty party was incensed and given a yellow card as extra insult. The kick came, struck the bar, dropped in a perilous area and was nutted home by No 6 (Daniel Pickering) much to the disgust of the resident followers. 2 -1 - now this was a test for all.
Now the tempo moved up several gears, as The Mechanics pushed Atherton broke, No 7 (Nathan Hatton) displayed stunning urgency and led the charge placing a lovely ball for Ambrose to latch onto. This looked like the third strike, the guest No 1 (Jon Broadstock) was quick off the mark and sprawled, good save that man, good save. As ALR continued to prod and poke Blackpool rode their luck and a ball over the top caught every home player with their trousers down that let Duffield sneak in, round the keeper and shockingly slot home. I say 'shockingly', I mean how the hell had the scoreline become 2 - 2 when the hosts looked so in control - don't ya just love this Non-League madness! The excitement levels rose, the game was now anyone's, end to end madness ensued. No 16 (Jake Dunford) for the hosts burst forth, the cross he put in was exemplary, Hincks received and drilled on the turn - just wide.
The back stretch was upon us, it was a wild finish with both teams searching for the winning strike. From the middle of the park a stunningly outrageous ball was played, Dunford was on the end of it and hurtled forth with rabid intent. All he had to do now was stay calm, resist the attentions of the defender and pick his spot. He did just that, it was a cracking moment, the supporters and management roared with joy, it was, if the truth be told, thoroughly deserved. A frantic last 5 minutes came, Blackpool were on the ropes and didn't use enough ammunition to escape the clutches of defeat. When the referee called for full time the Laburnum Rovers plan of action was complete and a step closer to the safety zone achieved. Their No 10 (Luke Hincks) was a pivotal player in the outcome, always thinking on his feet, looking to dismantle the opponents with a cutting pass and providing many fine balls for his colleagues to chase. A worthy Man of The Match methinks, the coming weeks will need more of the same. Me and my fine lady headed off home pleased with what we had witnessed, tis a good ground Crilly Park, and this match provided great entertainment - wonderful.
FINAL THOUGHT - The fact is that if Atherton Laburnum Rovers play like this each and every week they will avoid the drop and give their fans much to applaud. This was a result built on belief, desire and sheer hard work, they nearly got robbed of their due reward but the fact that they were pegged back and still found it within themselves to grind out the win says so much about the teams attitude and their capabilities. Even when times get tense they must remember this night and call upon defiant reserves. AFC Blackpool were far from a settled unit tonight and simply got outworked and were never allowed to settle thus making for a long hard night that made them a difficult unit to judge. In truth they only created two chances and snatched them both and the scoreline was perhaps more favourable than in reality. They will hold their own in this league but they better be careful, if the teams below them go on a surge and the Mechanics don't apply their spanner of correction a few nuts and bolts may come loose and a struggling inner engine may follow - dig in lads, I will have a wander up your way very soon and hope to witness a renewed effort with the end result a Tangerine Dream - think on!
Saturday, 1 December 2018
THE PRIDE OF THE LIONS WINS THROUGH
1st December 2018 - Stockport Town 2 v 1 Cheadle Heath Nomads - The Christmas run in is now upon us, wide eyed madness dictates the flow in the thoroughfares of each and every town as atheist maniacs spend wildly whilst many starve. The hordes shovel tinsel-laden shit without any thought whatsoever. A Christian festival is celebrated by non-believers, a man will visit and empty his sack on your pillow (darn his virile testes), bowels will be backed up by an overload of toxic crap and fatheads will ring with the same old sonic shit and finalise matters with an insincere rendition of 'Auld Lang Syne' - and people say they enjoy this! Today the skies hung like a widows knickers over the arthritic joints of suburbia, the leakage came from a heavenly bladder gone twang and I am on a downer - can you tell? I am aching all over, on a dip and feel the need to burn a Vicar - just for therapeutic reasons of course. Thankfully my good lady picks me up, I have many interests and of course there is Non-League football - the lull will pass, tis just how life goes at times. So the morn was rammed with tasks, some exercise was indulged in (does picking up weights with one's nob count as exercise? Perhaps not but man my foreskin is very well muscled, I just wish I had a pecker big enough to fit it - bah) and I eventually got the head operating well enough to head out and indulge in a local game that was a crippler to call. I set up an on-line vote, the nod had gone with the guests (just), I had to agree, but this was a bigger teaser than that bloke who hangs around at the back of Asda with a daffodil up his chuff (you know the one, the one David Potter of Cheadle Heath fame said he was meeting to discuss tactics - ooh heck). So a natter with the Cheadle Heath Manager (what a grand enthusing chap), seat taken, a fine chat with a Non-League couple I meet now and again and game on - let's have it!
The early pattern lacked intricacy or sway, No 10 (Leon Grandison) for the visiting pack had a quick sniff of goal after the ball fell to his feet and the home keeper was on walkabout. The leg was swung, the end result was a low fizzer way off target. Stockport began to apply some steady play, a couple of corners brought tepid pressure but nothing too testing. After a forced Nomads substitute Town's No 2 (Connor Hancock) started an impressive 5 pass sequence that went from right to left followed by a cross that No 9 (Gavin Salmon) just couldn't touch home. It was a glimmer of promise from a scrappy start that saw the Lion's duly build upon. On the 18th minute a home free-kick was earned and was played short to an eager No 7 (Callum Dolan). The busy bod darted forth, round one player, round another and then between a couple more before he released and saw the ball get deflected home. It was a moment of sorcery kissed by the lips of Lady Fortune - it was 1 - 0 to the hosts and very well deserved it was. No sooner had the Nomads settled from this set back and looked to play on the deck than No 10 (Liam Mottram) pilfered and attempted to chip the keeper. It was an ambitious effort and easily collected by the guest mitter but all the same, it exhibited a certain belief in the resident ranks. Onwards the team on top came, No 8 (Robert Lofthouse) had an in-swinger shot cum cross float over and then a delicious cross found No 6 (Festus Arthur) with a chance to bury from a few feet out but his header was too firm and, if the truth be known, ruddy dreadful.
To the halfway mark of the first period and beyond, the flow remained the same way with a fine ball into the Nomadic danger zone nearly forcing the defending No 5 (Zac Tyson) to put into his own net. The ball from the angle that came was dealt with but the guest team were akin to the private parts of Elvis Presley after a romantic liaison with a Little Richard look-alike - (all shook up). Things turned from shit to shittier for the CHN chaps as their sub and general rabid Jack Russell (Terence Butler) hobbled off cursing his luck with a grimace on his mush. There were 6 minutes of the half left, despite having the upperhand The Town were still only 1 goal up - and when a free-kick was given to the Nomads one had visions of an equaliser coming like an unexpected finger up the relaxed jacksie and causing untold grievance. No 11 (Stephen Kirby) put himself forward as the wannabe executioner, the ball was hoofed, the goal was missed by a mile (well, about 72 inches but whats 5274 feet between friends). The half ended soon after with the Nomads having the better of the closing minutes, there was still a lot to do though.
A piddle and a cuppa for the break, this was an unexpected turn-up for the puzzling books, the couple I catch up with were in agreement and after a chinwag about some black and white movies the teams came back out. Would there be an Hitchcockian twist in the tail here, or would things advance like a snippet of Film Noir but without any spectacular starbursts? Stick with it folks!
The Town had the first free-kick, it was delivered like the lopsided gonad of King Kong - a lovely swinger. The keeper though read matters well and duly grabbed (I hope he washes his hands before having a butty) and put out a long ball. A foul came, a card issued, another gratis kick was given the same way but The Lions were watertight and earned a corner up the other end when their No 3 (Matthew Hanson) mimicked a grave-robbing Baron Frankenstein and exposed some great feet. The knock in was cleared, soon after Cheadle had a great chance when Kirby put in a great free-kick that missed many heads and feet and finally dropped to No 3 (Ebbie Rezayan) who was caught on the hop and steered off target. It seemed as though an equaliser might just come when The Town broke, Dolan at the apex of the attack burst from a crowded pack, used nimble feet to avoid a tackle and when the keeper advanced he remained cool enough to flick over the sprawled carcass and bag a sweet strike. From here the guests just couldn't offer enough to get back in it and Dolan was nearly in again after robbing the ball and darting forth like a man on a mission. The defending this time was done with authority, at 2 - 0 we stayed.
Substitutes came each way, No 12 (Richard Tindall) was immediately called into action and his flick header wasn't that far off the mark. A collision came next, Town's No 11 (Jack McConnell) was dreadfully unlucky to receive his second yellow and was sent to have an early bath. The free-kick that followed was a double whammy as Ashley Harrison prowled at the back post, gathered, blasted and reduced the deficit in robust style - the aforementioned turn of fate was still in the air. Now down the home stretch we travelled, a few more subs, The Heath determined, The Town desperate. Tindall produced a moment of magic with a pearling ball that found No 15 (Daniel Clarke) who won a corner. Before the ball entered the box Grandison and the home keeper (Andrei Stinca) received a yellow card each for getting too up close and personal with one another (the dirty devils). When the ball did come it did so with fiery pace and missed all potential takers. A melee followed, a penalty claim had, play was waved on. As Cheadle huffed and puffed to blow the home-sides house down Hanson knocked a delicious ball back against the tide only to see his colleague (Braulio Maieco) waved offside - now that could have been a real quality moment. At the death Kirby had space to bust net but blazed over and then a tackle and some unnecessary naughty afters saw Salmon get sent marching before the game was done and dusted. This had been a tidy home performance, my choice for Man of the Match goes to their No 3 (Matthew Hanson), an effervescent stick of reliable dynamite that kept up a consistent threat, produced some scintillating spurts and instead of internally exploding let his feet do the talking and the work rate keep the opponents under the cosh - solid man, solid!
FINAL THOUGHT - This had been a tough tussle and one that The Lions faced head on and in the main, dictate. Yet more changes in clientele has this time proven to be beneficial with several very efficient players coming to the fore and making such a big difference. This and the general work-rate today was what earned the end prize and I was quite taken by the rapid movement and heads down focus of a team still in trouble but gradually rising to a position they truly deserve. Cheadle Heath Nomads were out of sync today and lacking several players, doubled over by two forced subs and kept on the back foot by an industrious home team who wouldn't give them 5 minutes rest. You can't judge a team by one performance and if you did on today's effort your opinion would be drastically skewed. The negative is that a few player's looked off the pace, the plus is that this can be used as a wake up call and hopefully lead to getting things immediately back on track. This is one crazy league, results are almost impossible to call - the fact is though there are some tough matches in the pipeline - both these units need to keep on working like ants on overtime - think on folks.
The early pattern lacked intricacy or sway, No 10 (Leon Grandison) for the visiting pack had a quick sniff of goal after the ball fell to his feet and the home keeper was on walkabout. The leg was swung, the end result was a low fizzer way off target. Stockport began to apply some steady play, a couple of corners brought tepid pressure but nothing too testing. After a forced Nomads substitute Town's No 2 (Connor Hancock) started an impressive 5 pass sequence that went from right to left followed by a cross that No 9 (Gavin Salmon) just couldn't touch home. It was a glimmer of promise from a scrappy start that saw the Lion's duly build upon. On the 18th minute a home free-kick was earned and was played short to an eager No 7 (Callum Dolan). The busy bod darted forth, round one player, round another and then between a couple more before he released and saw the ball get deflected home. It was a moment of sorcery kissed by the lips of Lady Fortune - it was 1 - 0 to the hosts and very well deserved it was. No sooner had the Nomads settled from this set back and looked to play on the deck than No 10 (Liam Mottram) pilfered and attempted to chip the keeper. It was an ambitious effort and easily collected by the guest mitter but all the same, it exhibited a certain belief in the resident ranks. Onwards the team on top came, No 8 (Robert Lofthouse) had an in-swinger shot cum cross float over and then a delicious cross found No 6 (Festus Arthur) with a chance to bury from a few feet out but his header was too firm and, if the truth be known, ruddy dreadful.
To the halfway mark of the first period and beyond, the flow remained the same way with a fine ball into the Nomadic danger zone nearly forcing the defending No 5 (Zac Tyson) to put into his own net. The ball from the angle that came was dealt with but the guest team were akin to the private parts of Elvis Presley after a romantic liaison with a Little Richard look-alike - (all shook up). Things turned from shit to shittier for the CHN chaps as their sub and general rabid Jack Russell (Terence Butler) hobbled off cursing his luck with a grimace on his mush. There were 6 minutes of the half left, despite having the upperhand The Town were still only 1 goal up - and when a free-kick was given to the Nomads one had visions of an equaliser coming like an unexpected finger up the relaxed jacksie and causing untold grievance. No 11 (Stephen Kirby) put himself forward as the wannabe executioner, the ball was hoofed, the goal was missed by a mile (well, about 72 inches but whats 5274 feet between friends). The half ended soon after with the Nomads having the better of the closing minutes, there was still a lot to do though.
A piddle and a cuppa for the break, this was an unexpected turn-up for the puzzling books, the couple I catch up with were in agreement and after a chinwag about some black and white movies the teams came back out. Would there be an Hitchcockian twist in the tail here, or would things advance like a snippet of Film Noir but without any spectacular starbursts? Stick with it folks!
The Town had the first free-kick, it was delivered like the lopsided gonad of King Kong - a lovely swinger. The keeper though read matters well and duly grabbed (I hope he washes his hands before having a butty) and put out a long ball. A foul came, a card issued, another gratis kick was given the same way but The Lions were watertight and earned a corner up the other end when their No 3 (Matthew Hanson) mimicked a grave-robbing Baron Frankenstein and exposed some great feet. The knock in was cleared, soon after Cheadle had a great chance when Kirby put in a great free-kick that missed many heads and feet and finally dropped to No 3 (Ebbie Rezayan) who was caught on the hop and steered off target. It seemed as though an equaliser might just come when The Town broke, Dolan at the apex of the attack burst from a crowded pack, used nimble feet to avoid a tackle and when the keeper advanced he remained cool enough to flick over the sprawled carcass and bag a sweet strike. From here the guests just couldn't offer enough to get back in it and Dolan was nearly in again after robbing the ball and darting forth like a man on a mission. The defending this time was done with authority, at 2 - 0 we stayed.
Substitutes came each way, No 12 (Richard Tindall) was immediately called into action and his flick header wasn't that far off the mark. A collision came next, Town's No 11 (Jack McConnell) was dreadfully unlucky to receive his second yellow and was sent to have an early bath. The free-kick that followed was a double whammy as Ashley Harrison prowled at the back post, gathered, blasted and reduced the deficit in robust style - the aforementioned turn of fate was still in the air. Now down the home stretch we travelled, a few more subs, The Heath determined, The Town desperate. Tindall produced a moment of magic with a pearling ball that found No 15 (Daniel Clarke) who won a corner. Before the ball entered the box Grandison and the home keeper (Andrei Stinca) received a yellow card each for getting too up close and personal with one another (the dirty devils). When the ball did come it did so with fiery pace and missed all potential takers. A melee followed, a penalty claim had, play was waved on. As Cheadle huffed and puffed to blow the home-sides house down Hanson knocked a delicious ball back against the tide only to see his colleague (Braulio Maieco) waved offside - now that could have been a real quality moment. At the death Kirby had space to bust net but blazed over and then a tackle and some unnecessary naughty afters saw Salmon get sent marching before the game was done and dusted. This had been a tidy home performance, my choice for Man of the Match goes to their No 3 (Matthew Hanson), an effervescent stick of reliable dynamite that kept up a consistent threat, produced some scintillating spurts and instead of internally exploding let his feet do the talking and the work rate keep the opponents under the cosh - solid man, solid!
FINAL THOUGHT - This had been a tough tussle and one that The Lions faced head on and in the main, dictate. Yet more changes in clientele has this time proven to be beneficial with several very efficient players coming to the fore and making such a big difference. This and the general work-rate today was what earned the end prize and I was quite taken by the rapid movement and heads down focus of a team still in trouble but gradually rising to a position they truly deserve. Cheadle Heath Nomads were out of sync today and lacking several players, doubled over by two forced subs and kept on the back foot by an industrious home team who wouldn't give them 5 minutes rest. You can't judge a team by one performance and if you did on today's effort your opinion would be drastically skewed. The negative is that a few player's looked off the pace, the plus is that this can be used as a wake up call and hopefully lead to getting things immediately back on track. This is one crazy league, results are almost impossible to call - the fact is though there are some tough matches in the pipeline - both these units need to keep on working like ants on overtime - think on folks.
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