FINAL POYNT MADE

16th April 2019 - Denton Town 2 v 3 Poynton FC - The young un' is home from Uni, she likes to do a bit of Non-League Footy, she was duly given options and came up with this local contest.  I was not complaining, Denton Town is a place I have a genuine soft spot for - it is raw, natural and very real with a couple of guys running themselves ragged to keep the ship afloat.  Sadly the team have been relegated this year, they will now plunge into the Cheshire League Division 1, as a result, I will make a greater effort next year to watch them and try and get them a little extra note via my humble reports.  The day was non-stop, work is hectic at the moment and I am behind on many personal fronts.  The book I am writing is just being kept up with but CD reviews, wildlife recording and gig promotions are piling high and the string vest I am knitting for the local fat man is taking an age.  Talking of fat men, my waistline is getting a trifle hefty and my sugar levels are up - I am now trying to be good so there will be no cake for me.   Hopefully Denton Town could provide some sweet success tonight although when I turn up to any game I always wish both teams all the best and just enjoy the match.  It is just my way, I like football at this level because it holds some genuinely passionate folks - passion is not about blowing a fuse, or being confined to one area - it is about doing and anyone who does for the love of it gets my vote.  Upon arrival we met STP Stu who had recently been fitted for a new wig after his other syrup blew away at a naked Rugby Match.  Abbey Hey Pete turned up later and was the the worse for wear after another glue - sniffing bender - I have told him not to mix his chemical intake but the man seems to know best - he'll come to a sticky end if he carries on. So after tea was slurped, the teams took to the pitch - here we go again comrades, I promise to try and stay on the straight and narrow, then again... 

The first purposeful attack came via the home lads, No 7 (Chris Lingouba) displayed huge desire and ran down the flank like an armoured tank.  The cross was sugar sweet, the keeper came and missed the ball and there, to put head on ball, mere inches out from the open goal was No 6 (Aiden Hopkins), who connected and somehow missed the target and scraped the outside of bar - now that was a shocker!  Poynton eventually grew into the game, wasted a short corner but soon after sizzled forth with a quick move that culminated in a long range looper from their No 10 (Andy Oakes).  The shot went up, arced downwards and 'boom' the bar was hammered.  No 11 (Jake Wright) collected the loose ball and thumped back first time, disappointingly into the arms of the awaiting keeper.  End to end action ensued, a few tame and wayward shots failed to douse the excitement levels already set - this was a good un' folks, stay with me.  

From hectic bluster a Denton defensive error was had, No 9 (Andy Hurst) for the Poynton pack was allowed to shoot, the home No 1 (Martyn White) sprawled and save the hosts' bacon.  Straight down the opposite end we went, some quick wing work was followed by a swift cross and a nutted attempt on goal by the arriving No 9 (Dan Read) - the effort was way off the mark.  Denton now had a period of pressure, 2 corners fizzled out and then a back to front move saw one hoof, one pass and a blasting shot by No 10 (Fransisco Costa) just fly over the bar - now that was close and in truth we should have had 4 goals already.  The same player soon came on strong again, the skills displayed were slinkier that Danny la Rues shaven testicles (so I hear), the nutmeg cuter than the tattooed nipples of Dolly Parton (I have photos) and the cross as sure keen as Richard Madeley in a wine shop (the pilfering git).  Hopkins was the recipient, the close in touch was firmly blocked by a defending carcass.  Madness followed, play was called back and an in-box free-kick given (what for is anybody's guess).  The ball was played, No 11 (Mike Bennett) nipped in and touched wide - another glorious chance gone begging - crikey. Soon after the home lads were marauding again, Lingouba nipping in like a thief in the night, making a perfect connection with the globe and clattering the bar once more.  The ball boomed out, Hopkins was keen, duly whacked home and bulged the net - and about time too.  Unfortunately non-one told the liner the game was desperate for a goal - offside it was.

We carried on aroused but still void of any climactic moments.  Back and forth we went, akin to the hefty conkers of Sammy Davis Jr (I'll see you in court).  Denton started to turn the screw, were having the best of possession when suddenly Poynton broke like a fart from a prolapsed rectum.  No 9 (Andy Hurst)  dashed hard, put the ball in, a touch came and No 7 (Rob Stokoe) was there to bumble the ball over the line and break the stubborn deadlock.  This was a kidney punch for the resident lads, they reacted, a cross was put in, heads grazed until Bennett nutted forward at the far post - the save that came was untidy but effective.  Lingouba burst a bollock again, he played out to Costa who cut in, sent forth a fizzer that was just shy of the upright.   Again the Dentonians came, the ball was played around the box looking for an opportunity, Lingouba had had enough of the indecision and received, twatted from 20 yards and quite spectacularly bulged the meshing.   That was some equaliser.  With only seconds of the half left we prepared for a brew, Poynton rushed with urgency, an easy ball came, the rear pack allowed No 8 (Jason Leach) to wander in and fire home, now that was too easy and a suckerpunch to consider.  It punctuated what had been  a ruddy cracking half of non-stop football and when the referee blew we went in search of the leafy brew and appreciated what we had seen.

The break was only 5 minutes long, the game needed to crack on before darkness dampened desires.  Poor Pete didn't even have time to refuel his huffing bag - hey ho.

We retook our positions and watched Denton fly from the traps.  Lingouba danced inward and won a free-kick that was highly creative but lacked true execution.  Poynton repaid matters with a few pops that were off-line and then a long ball caught the home No 3 (Jean Biansumba) on the hop, he tried to recover and made a messy tackle - the question was - was he the last man or not!  He got delivered a yellow card for his careless faux pas - I think he looked mighty relieved.  The free-kick that followed was hammered into the wall - perhaps justice was served.  The game was still wide open, the outcome was anyone's guess.  Out of the melee Denton travelled down the flank, Costa knocked in a delicious cross, No 12 (Antonio Din Chin) popped up and without further ado, buried with certainty.  2 goals apiece, by gum lad, what a treat.  Once again, the first break after the Denton goal came via the guests, it was a sweeping move the hosts were lucky to survive, I think they were overjoyed to see the final effort fly over the horizontal.  In return of this scare the home chaps charged and Din Chin sent in a dangerous looking cross that struck the inside of the post and was somehow cleared.  That framework was going to need some serious painting after this one - get the Dulux out!

A Poynton break next, the shot was wonderfully tipped over.  A tight period followed, a Poynton free-kick - Leach the taker - wallop, yes - the bar had been cracked yet again.  The action was unrelenting, chances came and went as the night crept in and light began to fade.  The Town started to get a bit loose at the back, the away lads piled in, 2 shots came in quick succession, one blocked the other saved and then a breakaway.  Costa played in to Din Chin, the first time shot crept beneath the keeper and tickled the upright before being gathered up - oh my goodness.  

We now hit the back stretch, the guests were starting to shade matters although a liquid move by the hosts should have brought up the lead as No 11 (Jake Wright) played to Din Chin who knocked in a pearler to Costa who was left with the keeper to beat.  The shot oozed confidence but missed the strike zone - it was a let off for the travellers that was for sure.  The away team bounced right back, Hurst was threaded through and also missed after having only the keeper to beat - this was not good for the nervous system.  More chances came, some real poor misses were the result.  Again Poynton pressed, No 4 (Nick Ward) rasped in a low driller that the home keeper did well to save in the now darkened conditions.  A corner came, chaos in the box reigned, a close in shot was saved at the last with a free-kick awarded, just outside the box.  No 3 (Sam Morris) placed the ball, eyed his spot and swung the shank.  The ball flew low, passed the wall, the keeper was unsighted and the bottom corner was found - it turned out to be the last kick of the match, Denton had been mugged, Poynton had done a late night smash and grab and looked elated.   This had been a stunner right up until the last, there was some good work all round and all done in a good spirit - I like that.  Man of the Match for me goes to Denton Town's No 7 (Chris Lingouba), a ruddy good player this who popped up here and there, was involved in many good moves, stayed alert at all times and was unlucky not to bag a few extra goals for his team.  It didn't seem fair that he was on the losing side - ah shit happens.

FINAL THOUGHT - Well what an absolutely grand night of football and sincere thanks to all who made this possible.  Both teams played with positivity and at times natural abandon and contributed to a game of incessant action.  Poynton dug in deep, rode a few storms, counter-attacked with precision and never gave up until the last.  It was this undying effort that duly won them the 3 points from a game that could have gone either way.  If they keep this commitment they can only go on to better things - good on em' and hopefully I can get back down their way again next campaign.  Denton Town are relegated but I reckon they can bounce back with a bang.   There is a lot of quality in the team and some real eye-catching endeavour - all they need to work on is the fitness of one or two players and the clinical edge in front of goal.  Time on the training field is needed and with the approach they have I reckon a straight promotion is on the cards.   They play the game without gripe and seem to have a good comradeship - I think that will put them in good stead for the next campaign.  Tonight there were only 20 bods watching what transpired, next year I am gonna try and get a few more peeps interested in this overlooked ground - it all helps and I will be on the touchline a few more times for sure.  Thank you to all for this splendid affair - Non-League hey - you can't fuckin' beat it!

BEAR TRAP SET

13th April 2019 - Burscough FC 0 v 1 Congleton Town - After a morn of birding we partook of lunch in some farmers fields and had a walk around Burscough before entering one of our favourite grounds for some more Non-League Action. The highlight of the day so far had been some close up views of a pair of Little Grebes, the first House Martins of the year and a couple of new blooms for the annual list.  Me and my good lady do like to wander here and there and like a good wildlife/football combination with some sweet snacks thrown in.  The ground we entered, as we know it, is ready to change, and in its current state it will be the last time we pay our respects.  A chat with the guy on the gate informed us of the forthcoming plans, it is a pity the old asbestos can't be used to fill the local council offices instead of all the dead wood found there.  Apparently the old ground will be used for new housing, what's new - more concrete spillage and all to the detriment of the wild world - it gets on my tits don't ya know.  My hate for councillors and MP's arises from back in the 1970's when I entered the TV Show 'Blind Date' and ended up going on a cruise with a  Michael Foot look-alike.  The said leader of the reds was one of the few politicians I have ever had any time for but when the doppelganger insisted on dining at the Captains Table in a sequinned dress, wearing fuschia pink lipstick and persistently calling me 'Honey Balls' I think my deep rooted problems really began.  Anyway the upshot of the watery trip was Mr Pseudo-Foot ended up giving birth to a bouncing baby boy which I am sure was the head chef's - the cross-eyes and greasy hands were a dead give away.  And so...after yet another mental blip, back to the match.  I was going for a draw, my missus a Congo win, after supping some tea, completing the Express cryptic crossword and parking our arses I think the game ended up going something like this.

The start was unsettled with both teams trying to adjust to the rather firm and unforgiving playing surface.  No 6 (Anthony Griffith) of Congleton had the first blast at glory but his long range effort could only shave the arse feathers off a passing pigeon rather than busting a hole on the targeted netting.  The hosts tried mighty hard to keep matters on the deck with the final ball always going astray or being met by an awaiting defensive boot.  The team won 2 corners on the trot, the first was wasted, the second long, knocked back and brushed on by a rising noggin.  Awaiting was No 11 (Jorde Lorde) who screwed his effort just shy of the upright - now that would have been a solid move.  The hosts came once more, No 9 (Chad White) had a pop with the ball spooned off the line and over the bar by the quick reacting Griffith.  The corner came, it was well struck and White put bonse on ball and wasn't that far off the zone.  

Straight down the other end matters went, with the ball worked down the flank, given to No 10 (Paul Speed) who worked some space and had a shot deflected over.  The angled kicked was dealt with, Burscough broke and played some lovely football in and around the box with the end result only a corner that produced sour FA.  Once again the visiting Bears reacted, another kick from the corner led to a series of shots and blocks with hair-raising mayhem becoming a little to much for the opposing managers.  A foul ended the pressure and then Burscough broke with No 7 (Terry Cummings) put through and with only the keeper to beat.  When the ball left the end of the lower limb and rippled the side-netting one could almost feel the ill-tempered fart leave the resident coach's rear end as his disgust became to much to contain.  A free-kick came the same way soon after, it went in, it went out for a corner that was delivered and met by the rising White who couldn't get enough cranial purchase on the ball to get it on target.  From here the guests woke up, No 7 (William Hasler-Cregg) wriggled, fed No 9 (Daniel Cope) whose shot was weak and led to him injuring himself.   Subs came both ways, The Congo pushed, No 5 (Thomas Morris) was sending forth a few positive balls, one of which was latched onto, played in by No 12 (Steve Foster) and buried by No 8 (Dean Warburton).  The goal was slightly against the flow but this moment saw the visiting pack push on, play some football with more desire and have the next crack via Hasler-Cregg who couldn't keep the globe below the bar.  Before the half-time break No 3 (William Doherty) played a stunning pass that truly tested the Congo rear ranks who stood their ground, relieved the situation and finished the first 45 minute period on top and with greatest gusto.

The sun shone for half-time, we stayed put like two basking beetles and soaked up the rays with keen attention.  My wife tackled another crossword, I checked a few scores on her phone and then the teams came out.  The start was delayed due to one of the nets falling apart at the seams - it was duly fixed, game on.

Cummings for the home team went on an immediate mission, charging forth and earning a free-kick which No 4 (Danny Brady) blasted way over.  At each end half chances came and were disappointingly wasted, it was a very patchy period to say the least from which No 16 (Martin Iddon) had a chance to hammer but allowed the ball to bounce and could only make the weakest of touches that failed to trouble the target zone.  The next animation came, a fracas ensued after a clumsy tackle, all players pushed, shoved and swung sequined purses - the outcome was two players sent off, one for each side and someone's string of pearls getting broken - ooh the silly buggers.  Point must be made that both benches took it on the chin and refused to get involved in a pointless disagreeable slanging match.  The game continued, Burscough pressed but lacked killer quality, Congo broke with No 11 (Emini Adegbenro) passing to Foster who knocked it to Hasler-Cregg.  The ball wouldn't sit down, the shot came, it went wide - in truth it should have been the second and crucial strike.

Despite more space being available on the pitch due to the 2 man deficit both packs failed to make any clear cut opportunities.  Subs came, composure was lacking in many areas and then Hasler-Cregg displayed great desire to burst through, find the smallest of openings and release - again off target.  The Linnets flew forward in response, the effective and quick thinking No 8 (Dimitri Nkusa-Wasaulua) played to Cummings who threaded a pass that saw White face the guest No 1 (Robert Cooke).  Both players arrived at destination sphere at the same time, the object sought pinged free of danger.  Into the closing minutes we travelled with too many rushed balls and too much panic making for a fractured game.  Burscough had 2 free-kicks that were hoofed straight out of play and then Brady connected with a real rasper that rattled the upright and ricocheted away from pastures designated as perilous.  In return Congleton's Foster sent in a rather weak shot that caused no concern but it didn't matter, eventually after oodles of added on time the game was done and Congleton were travelling homeward with three hard earned points in the bank.  The Man of the Match goes to The Bear's No 7 (William Hasler-Cregg) for his undying effort, great determination and general nippiness that posed problems all day long.  He should have bagged himself a goal to be fair but hey, it was a darn good 90 minute bout nonetheless and deserved of the nod.  

FINAL THOUGHT - So the last match of the season at Victoria Park and not really a classic. Both teams looked tired today with one or two players the exception.   It was a well balanced game throughout and could have gone either way but for me the end result was fair enough.  Congleton have had a good campaign and just ran out of a little steam through the back end but man, they try and play decent football, have many quality plays and when in the zone, are a match for anyone.  There home ground is another fine place to visit and we shall be there again soon enough, with the rank and file who always make for a pleasurable experience.  Burscough are better than what they may realise and each and every time I see them I take note what a good set of players they have, the decent way they play the game and the appreciation they show for the supporters.  They seem to be keeping some consistency in the squad and I reckon their only major downfall is the lack of composure at crucial times and the pitch which is certainly doing them no favours of late.  I hear they may be on 3G soon, they are not my favoured surface but I reckon this lot could reap many benefits from the said surface - you just never know but one thing is guaranteed, we will be checking them out for sure, hopefully on several occasions next time around.

BLUE BLUES

8th April 2019 - Maine Road 1 v 2 Barnton FC - A localish ground neglected due to me not having a doppelganger, not really grasping the intricacies of time travel and the ruddy Romans deciding that 24 hours in a day was enough.  I am never still, would like to be everywhere but alas cannot so squeeze in what I can, when I can.  After 4 days down Bristol and then getting carried away with a wildlife wander today I was a trifle 'behind schedule' but it was a pleasure to put all on hold and catch up with a home team who always provide good entertainment.  This was a close contest on paper, one that would be a challenge to try and predict the result of although I did go for a home win (the ruddy fool that I am).  I was joined tonight by the hopping John D who kindly gave me 4 detective novels to read (very generous).  I like a good book, I have always read since I was a nipper - from 'Confessions of a Taxi Driver' to 'From Russia With Love', from Jayne Eyre to Count Dracula, from the unhinging tales of Edgar Allen Poe to the literary majesty of Somerset Maugham - oh aye, the pen is indeed mightier than the sword.  Talking of pens, my tipped textual creator was ready to spill its blue blood across the parchment of promise and as the teams came out the almost heiroglyphic scribbles I daubed were eventually translated as thus:-

The sprightlier start was made by the boys in blue with good movement and possession winning a few early sniffs at goal that unfortunately led to nowt.  Barnton started to slowly come to the boil and seemed intent on playing the breakaway game whilst their opponents did most of the pressing.  A ball eventually came over the top that saw a home defender dawdle and get robbed.  The visiting No 7 (Ryan Malone) used good shoulder strength and irrepressible persistence to pilfer the globe, run towards the angle and duly slot the ball tidily under the sprawling keeper.  This was a shock start and The Road now reacted with a sweeping move that saw a quite excellent cross get thumped on the volley by No 10 (Connor Hughes) - it was a firm connection without direction.  The ball however deflected off a defending bod, created a moment of panic but somehow landed at the goalkeeper's feet - he seemed mighty relieved to receive it.  The Road now came again, No 9 (Daniel Burgess) weaved a merry path into the corner, the ball was knocked in, stroked outwards into the path of the No 4 (Finn Thompson) who was hell-bent on a Roy of the Rovers moment - alas the night sky was fractured rather than the netting busted.  As the home 'erberts pushed Barnton repaid in kind with another searching ball that saw a striker released and tumbled in the box.  The air was rent with pleas for a penalty, the referee held his nerve and waved play on - I think he got it right!  

As time moved on the apex of The Road's attacking end was gradually being sharpened with No 8 (Jamie Roe) the next to come close via a header from a flashing cross - the ball wasn't that far off the mark.  Malone for Barnton counterbalanced this move with a charge of his own that indicated great desire.   Things looked promising with only one defender to beat but the home No 6 (Neil Chappell) stood his ground and defended like an immovable Trojan.  A free-kick for the hosts was curled forth by Hughes next, right idea sir but too much bend.  Barnton broke back, a perfect ball was mimicked by a perfect run with No 9 (Jordan Cobley) nipping in and picking his spot.  The globe left the foot, went by the keeper and alas, outside of the far stick.  Into the final minutes and the resident unit went down to 10 men after their frisky Burgess seemingly needed a trip to the shithouse.  Barnton tried to capitalise on this bowel break but could only manage a shot way over the bar before the incredible shitting machine (allegedly) returned to the fray (I hope you have washed your hands sir).  No sooner had his duds been pulled up and he was on the pitch and feeding Hughes who made space, pulled the trigger and rattled the Heavens - it was the last chance of the half.

I stayed put for half-time and chatted with John D about his recent tootlings, latest books read and the recent run in he had with a blacked-up Bob Hope look-a-like.  John claimed the tiff was nothing political but blamed a dodgy pork chop he had had for lunch - fair do's mate and as long as we all move on without prejudice and with good hearts what is there to moan about?

Half-two started with the blue machine functioning at high tempo, Barnton broke as per, Malone wriggled in, a collegue received, the post was struck (I missed the name of the unfortunate player but he should have doubled the lead that's for sure).  A Road sub came, Burgess went off (that must be some mighty fine magazine he has stashed in the bogs), a scrapyard period followed.   Eventually Maine Road began to add pressure, their No 12 nearly smashed in the equaliser after some fine battling and then had another great effort that bent in with pace but was tipped over by a very alert keeper.  A corner followed, 3 shots came, 2 saved, 1 blocked and then another kick from the angle led to an effort blocked on the line - oh what madness this was, surely an equaliser was beckoning.  As the MR crew continued to make all the running Barnton remained happy to try and smash and grab which they duly did from a very poor corner.   The guests pounced down the wing with the ball going in, then out and falling to Malone who buried with cucumber coolness.  It was a swift and effective footballing move - the hosts were now up against it.

From here things were balanced for a while, Barnton had a free-kick that No 11 (Joshua Smith) hit from 25 yards and was unlucky to clatter the bar.  Again the visitors came, No 8 (Samuel Hougthon) banged from distance, the home No 1 (Conrad Bretton) watched the trajectory and made a first class save - what a great footballing moment.  Road returned with pace, one pass, two pass, Hughes was in, knocked forth a well placed shot - suddenly there was only one goal in it - it was a well taken goal, were there any more to come?  Into the home run we went, Maine Road looked to step up the pace, Barnton played some 'go slow' tactics and frustrated the hell out of the local players and followers.   Marching orders were given to the home No 7 (Owen Pollitt) for a second yellow, the finish was frantic to say the least but no matter how much was thrown at the Barnton pack they stood firm and saw this one out to the bitter end.  I contemplated the Man of the match choice and perhaps, a trifle controversially, opted for Maine Road's No 6 (Neil Chappell) who communicated, urged on his players and put in a very valuable shift that at times, made sure the goals conceded were kept down to only two.  You can see why Maine Road have turned a corner of late, a general for sure who tonight was unlucky to be on the losing side.

FINAL THOUGHT - Not a bad match at all this with two evenly matched sides that, on several different nights would come up with a different result each time.  It was touch and go throughout, many chances were had but the visitors stuck to their game plan and went back down the Road with the 3 point prize.   All both teams need do now is to see out the season and gain as many points as possible whilst working out the best possible formula to start the new campaign with.  For me, next time around, if any of these two packs want to be in the mix they have to keep the players they have now and work darn ruddy hard (as per).  I like my visits to Brantingham Road, one never knows which way the cookie will crumble but there are always goals and always thrills.  John D tells me a team has never gone through a season without a draw, Maine Road are on for that feat - interesting hey!   Barnton continue on their merry way and usually get one or two visits per season from me and the missus.  They are a funny side - eternally under-achieving and then throwing in the odd game that makes one think that they could really achieve their potential.   Tonight they earned the victory with cute-pre-planning and some red hot breakaway pace - all they need to add to the mix is that elusive ingredient ' consistency' - tis a rare species forever on the fluttering wing - go hunting chaps.

STREET HEAT

6th April 2019 - Street FC 3 v 1 Melksham Town - The time of year when we wander in earnest and try and keep pace with the comings and goings of the ever capricious natural world.  We were down Bristol for 4 days and due to spending an absolutely splendid morning at RSPB Ham Wall we decided the best location to get a footballing fix would be Street FC.  We have been to Street before, that time it was on an excursion to see a rare butterfly which was successful in many ways.  We also burned down the local YHA due to it holding a hippy convention and then went to Stone Henge and drew a willy on the said sacred slabs - and why not, my punk nerves do get a little tetchy at times.  So, arriving at the ground in good time, acquiring a teamsheet and some chips (thank you to the chip creator for his extra helping due to us having a lengthy wait) we parked our rear ends and took in the atmosphere.  The chips were bang on, the seats more comfortable than normal but the ruddy draught a real spiteful git that sent its tendrils up my trouser leg, around the conker-based crevices and back out down the other leg - my wife was wearing bicycle clips by the way, she is a lovely lady after all.  If wind was to be personified I am sure it would be bent double, adorned in trews with permanently open flies and sporting a pair of mitts with the longest fingers ever noted.  The icy breath, spiteful, aquiline nose and shifty, perverted eyes are a matter of course as well as the crooked bulge in the aforementioned kecks.  I resisted the urge to shiver, one has to show some sort of backbone when being accosted by the climactic perverts, and peeled the peepers to take in the following kick about.

The initial action came about after some unplanned defensive dawdling that allowed a gratis kick to the visiting ranks. The ball was boomed straight out of play - I hoped it wasn't going to be one of those days.  Street started to apply themselves with a ball deflected into the box that No 3 (Lewis Waldy) headed forth rather weakly.  A Melksham clearance was taken with great haste, No 9 (Gary Higden) was ahead of the rear pack and galloped forth with only the home No 1 (Liam Kingston) to beat.  The protector of the net blocked well for a corner that was ultimately wasted with Street having a rapid counter attack of their own.  A low cross was had, No 9 (Steve Murray) received, rotated and released but the shot lacked spite and the keeper easily gathered.  At the other end a corner was won, in and out it went, No 7 (Billy Gleed) was out wide, No 8 (Luke Ballinger) accepted the ball and placed a shot straight at the keeper - surely a goal was imminent! 

Street advanced after a Melks move dissolved.  Some superb link-up play outside the box was duly applauded, Murray was an integral part - passing and dragging players this way and that before a ball into the red alert zone was played.  No 10 (Harry Foster) found the ball at his feet, worked a sliver of space, released with adequate power and neatly found the inside of the far post, much to his comrades' delight.  From this icebreaker a dry period ensued as both teams strove for a firmer grip.  Melksham had done well to recover their senses, Street looked the more threatening side but were just kept at bay by some stout defending.  The next goal looked to be a critically decisive factor with Street having a thrust with Murray letting a shot go but again one that lacked true bite.  The hosts were now upping the ante, No 2 (Josh Bennett) had been waiting out wide for some time and when, he was eventually served, he delivered first time with Murray on the end of it but clattering the globe over the horizontal  - it was a sweet move deserved of a final flourish.  Murray had another crack soon after, again with too much uplift.  In return all that The Melksmen could offer was a free-kick from a rather acute angle that was clattered straight out of play. The closing minutes looked to be leading to the break with Street in command when suddenly the home 'erberts were caught.  A ball came from nowhere and found Ballinger who took it on his chest, whacked on the volley with sugar-sweet potency and bulged the net with supreme gusto.  It was a wonder strike, a fitting equaliser and a real kick in the cobblers for the, ahem...Cobblers.  Half-time followed soon after, the game was precariously balanced and left for we onlooking fans to ponder - ooh the thrill of it all.

We moved out into the sun for half-time, stretched the old boiled eggs (legs) and released some tension from the aching Brian Clough (chuff).  The wind was still being an utter bastard and chilled any worthwhile solar power that adorned our Brian Jacks (backs).  Talking of Brian Jacks, I once attanmpted to beat his Superstars feat of Parallel Bar Dips and ended up with a prolapsed rectum, arthritic elbows and a high pitched voice.  I did perm my hair beforehand and bleached it blonde - it didn't help whatsoever...and back to the match!

Street blazed from the blocks, No 11 (Craig Herrod) sent in a cross that was deflected away with Melksham bursting back on the break and only stopped by some stupendous tackling by the home No 4 (Ben Amghar).  Street built at once, the attack was quick, forthright and focused with a cross ball touched homeward by the right man, in the right place, at the right time, take a bow Mr Foster.  No sooner had the ball been placed back on the centre spot than Street were marauding again with the impressive Herrod a roaming menace, collecting, beating two men and shooting. The ball seemed to catch the flesh of a defending bod, went off at a different angle and somehow found the inside of the post - to be honest, the move deserved the end triumph.  At 3 - 1 up the resident pack were now playing some irresistible football and moving the ball around like a well-oiled kipper on the back of a sweating pig (it does happen you know).  Herrod had another dig that was deflected off-line and then he provided a ball for Murray to flick across the goal which was too firm for the incoming executioners.  

As Street continued to play some convincing possession football, the diluted Melksham team ran themselves ragged, kept themselves in this one and with a chance of nicking a goal back or maybe a prized point.  In fact the away team cultivated a chance not long after I had put these thoughts to paper with a shot hammered in, pinged out and then returned via No 11 (Jordan Croad) whose touch was slightly off the target zone.  The Melks were soon at it again, No 14 (Jack Baker) captured the globe high up the park, turned his marker inside out (ooh what a mess) and belted forth a solid strike that was equalled by a low save that pushed the ball on the post and back into the sprawling keepers grateful mitts.  The tide had turned, once again the guests flowed, a cute back flick, one touch and Ballinger boomed a blisterer that went inches over the bar.  We now entered the closing period, applause for the away teams efforts was worthy, all they needed was a clinical touch in the final third to put the cat amongst the pigeons.  Ballinger came on, played to Baker who rattled one away that was disappointingly off target - it was last chance saloon but Street had the final crack with No 12 (Oscar Latas) producing a great strike that was saved and put behind for the corner.  The ball came in from the angle, was dealt with, seconds later the game was done. The 3 points had gone the right way, Street's No 5 (Ross McErlain), before being substituted, was absolutely outstanding at the back and put his head on everything, stayed calm and was the quintessential pivot that any good team works around - a pleasure to witness.

FINAL THOUGHT - The title of today's piece was named after a song by The Vibrators frontman Knox.  Street generated good heat today and for me are a team very much better than what their league position suggests.  Some of the quick thinking football and general team awareness was top notch indeed and with a little extra luck up front a few more goals could have easily been added.  I thought Herrod was a particularly noteworthy player and he looked like a real swine to actually keep tabs on as he wandered here and there like a vagabond on acid.  Overall there were no weaknesses in the ranks and I reckon I'll be keeping an eye on this lot in future and hopefully catch them again sooner rather than later.  Melkhsam, I was informed, are a side in transition after a few players had left the fold and some young reserves had been thrown into the fray.  To be fair, taking this into consideration, I thought the lads did bloody well and put in a tremendous stint that holds much positive potential for the future.  The key is to now preserve squad consistency, keep the players totally unified and to maintain the belief they exhibited today.  The next time we are down Bristol I reckon me and the missus will do some wildlife hunting close to Melksham and then visit their ground - it would be rude not to and if there are any Youth Hostels and ancient relics nearby I am sure I could bring a box of Swan Vesta and a marker just for the extra thrill - hot-nob-tastic I say!

MILLER THRILLER

2nd April 2019 - New Mills FC 1 v 2 Sandbach United - Into the last month of the campaign, the time of the footballing year when many things will be decided.  Will your team win promotion?  Will the year end is disappointment?  Will Billy Bremner finally tell us if he has ginger pubes?  It is all there to be revealed, many questions will be answered, and Mr Bremner may be hailed a hero by all those with carrot fuzzed conkers.  My good lady and myself had spent our days at work, had a quick bite to eat before heading down the A6 to the not-too distant Church Lane Ground.  The last time I was here the local Man of the Cloth sold me a dodgy Excorcism Kit thus leading to my father being found in a demon-possessed state in the local Bingo Hall (Clickety Click - the Devil's testes), 6 summoned goblins took up up residence in my elderly neighbours rectum and a nearby crack opened up in the street where I live allowing Semenjus and his evil tadpole hordes to impregnate the local members of the WRVS.  I should have dropped off the dodgy box of tricks tonight but was sidetracked by a Monkey's Paw I had picked up.  I had made my initial wish, it was for a goal fest - if it doesn't come up I will wish for the referee to wake up with a 6 foot willy and for his whistle to eternally taste of shit - that will be some recompense.  So a brew had, a chat with a fine couple we meet here and there whose ruddy names have slipped my frazzled memory once more and then a meet-up with fellow punk git Dangerous Dave aka Dale aka The Mad Priest (he once cut my head off don't ya know).  Seats taken, brews downed, game on - forgive my wanderings, I always get a bit tired this late in the season.

Leather was thudded, plumes of breath were exhaled, touch line abuse was on the tip of the tongue ready to be spilled.  The commencement was as tight as Bertie Wooster after a raucous night down The Drones Club.  Both teams strove to pass and play, everything was set up for a fine night of football.  From the rear of the New Mill's ranks the keeper launched a long goal-kick that speared though the midfield melee and released No 11 (Remeece Brown).  The nifty player at the fore was onto the ball and wasted no time in cracking one off (ooh err), only to be denied by a solid bit of net-protecting via the guest No 1 (Matt Green).  A kick from the angle came, was knocked out and boomed back with interest by No 4 (Tom Russell).  The shot had anger, focus and impetus, alas it flashed over the horizontal instead of below it.  In return the Sandbach lads raced forth and a low, fiery cross was had, right across the face of goal it went - the merest touch was absent, it was a warning to The Millers to not get carried away.  

Both sides continued to play assertive football on the deck, any chances though were snuffed out by several moments of defensive quality.  The only real dig came through Brown who blazed from the angle but with too much elevation.  The next action soon arose, SB's No 9 (Kieran Garner-Knapper) ran like the wind, shrugged off a defensive mitherer but released a little too late and allowed the mittman to block the shot.  A few minutes passed and then a free-kick came the same way.  The ball was stung and entered the box on a low trajectory.  No 10 (Ryan Allcock) applied a very cute touch, the ball crept wide of the upright!  The Millers upped the ante, a free-kick and 2 corners brought promises but were all dealt with (just) with the latter gratis boot leading to a Sandbach break that saw No 11 (Harry Cain) provide an outstanding cross-field ball that just escaped the controlling clutches of the incoming No 10 (Ryan Allcock).  A battling period ensued, an episode of madness was fought in the Sandbach penalty box, survival for the guests was had but there was a goal on the cards, I could feel it in my rising waters.  Sandbach broke again, No 4 (Declan O' Riordan) was away, shook off his marker and looked ready to break the deadlock - the home keeper (Stuart Morrison) though was quick to dive at the feet of the menace and duly kill the danger.

The half looked done until a coming together saw a few sparks fly and Sandbach's Allcock get shown a straight red - I suspect a few verbals added to the decision.  At the last, and inspired by their one man advantage, the NM lads looked to finish the first 45 with a flourish.  A free-kick brought no joy, a sweeping attack was quality but the guest No 5 (Kris Stockton) produced an outstanding tackle and suddenly we were done and Old Mother Hubbard's knickers of good time goals were bare - ooh the old misery guts.

A brew and a natter for half-time, all agreed this had been a decent do so far with much to ponder.  The pendulum of positivity had swung towards the hopes of the hosts after that unexpected sending off - the question was, could they make the most of it - dum, de, dum, dum!

From the start of the second period the guests more than held their own but Brown for the hosts pushed on, put in a cross that was deflected and fell to No 7 (Robbie Swallow) who put in a delicate touch and grabbed the first goal of the game.  The Millers now started to control the game, Ambrose had a snap shot into the side netting and Sandbach really needed to get to grips with matters or this one would be done, dusted and all aspirations would be busted.  A few spiced tackles raised the heat of the contest, Sandbach heaved onwards, 3 shots came, 2 blocks came, the last effort went wide - this though was highly promising and the game was far from over.  The visitors now had ideas, a quick move culminated with Cain swivelling, releasing and clattering the post,  Once again the SB squad came, a dazzling ball saw Lane almost nip in, almost but not quite.  Cain for the trailing team was being a perpetual peril, he supplied 2 more crosses - one low aching for a touch that never came, the second high and swinging that was just dealt with by a flustered New Mills pack.  A delay brought welcome relief for the hosts who restarted the game with impetus and released their Swallow to sign, seal and deliver the game.  The shot was saved and soon after the same scenario was created and the same outcome had.

Into the rising tension we marched, a Sandbach goal-kick went over all heads, was hoofed back and then volleyed with spite by Cain.  The keeper sprung, stretched and saved - a fine moment to keep the peepers wide.  The hosts were offering little in return although Brown nearly nipped in after a defensive mix-up but a dubious goal-kick was the result.  Brown had another shot and then Sandbach broke, No 12 (Tom Williams) delivered, a cranial touch came and the keeper was beat, No 6 (Christopher Rowntree) was the executioner, this had been one fine fightback.  From here The Millers tried to dig deep, No 14 (Aaron Fleming) had a rare pop that went over and the the visitors swooped with high intensity.  A cross, a shot, a save - a corner followed.  A short ball was played, No 15 (Matt Pearson) was on it, progression was allowed, the whole defensive unit looked uncertain and suddenly a rasping shot was delivered and the Sandbach crew had smashed, grabbed and nearly delivered a quite unbelievable turnaround.  Wow man, wow!

From here there was a whole lot of huff and puff with The Millers desperate to salvage something from a game they should have been in command of.  Cain had a free-kick for Sandbach that just wouldn't stay down and then lashed another shot within seconds that was was closer than first imagined.  No 14 (Lucas Baker) had the last real effort of the game with a sizzling run down the right that ended with a shot the keeper did mighty well to block with his legs.  6 minutes were added, the finale was frantic but Sandbach gave little away and eventually were delighted to hear the final whistle and bag the 3 point prize.  Man of the Match goes to Sandbach United's No 11 (Harry Cain) who ran himself into the ground, played with a mercurial tempo and was, throughout the whole match, an incessant problem that New Mills never really dealt with.  We had enjoyed this one, final chats and farewells were had to the aforementioned folk and off we pootled, 6 matches of the season left.

FINAL THOUGHT - Well, I thoroughly enjoyed this one and my missus did too.  It was an highly entertaining match that had unexpected incidents, chances aplenty and with an outcome that wasn't confirmed until the final shrill of the pea-laden implement.  New Mills must be gutted with their second half performance and rather than take the bull by the bollocks they sat back and looked like startled rabbits in the headlights of an oncoming articulated truck with little idea how to avoid the end disaster.  It was the lack of ideas and the belief that they could hammer the 10 men that cost them tonight, a lesson they will duly learn from and be thankful it was handed on when there was little on the line.  They are still in transition but have a lot to build on and seem to have many a good player in the pack who will bring much reward - of course I will be checking up on them several times next year, it is always a fine place to visit.  Sandbach were exceptional tonight and if the truth be known, wanted this more and wouldn't be denied.  When down to 10 men they refused to sit back and soak thing up - they had enough belief and character to take the game on, go for the win and unltimately achieve full triumph.  In truth, I thought they would be pushing for top spot this time around and am surprised they are just off the main pace setters - but as per, there is always next time and if the heart and passion, as shown tonight, can be maintained, I am sure they can be serious movers and shakers in the 2019/2020 campaign.