LABOUR PARTY

17th August 2019 - Windle Labour FC 6 v 1 Denton Town - The grey, heavenly underpants are seemingly full of holes and the wearer has a problem with their hydraulic valve - hence the constant leakage that is falling on our bonses and making for one testing summer season.  Due to a severe overspill yesterday the footballing plans were up in the air as I was sure there would be postponements.  As I pondered where to go the skies turned black and another deluge came even though the forecasters said it was going to be a decent day.  From the darkness I was inspired to compose a letter to one Michael Fish, the missive took the form of a death threat, I think I am fully justified.  Just to be sure I made duplicates and sent them to John Kettley; Ian McCaskill and Carol Kirkwood.  A nude photo of Bill Giles was sent to all to show I meant business - keep watching the skies folks, we may be in for some sunny times, if not, Fishy gets it first, my conker propelling catapult holds no favours.  Eventually after a morn of more gardening duties for the mother in law (in glorious sun may I add), a swift sort out and a change, we made our way to the heady climes of Skelmersdale to watch a Cheshire League 1 affair.  STP Stu joined us, and after acquiring a brew we stood on the touchline with 13 other folk and watched the action unfold.

The away team had most of the early action, played at their own pace and looked to unlock a firm opposing defence.  A mistake from Windle's No 4 (Matthew Watkins) nearly resulted in the first goal but the hoof forward was very rushed indeed.  Denton came on again, No 7 (Matty Booth) sprung the offside trap, let the ball bounce once and duly boomed, the keeper watched the flight of the globe and made a concrete block.  The hosts seemed flustered and aggravated but they eventually gained a foothold and worked mighty hard to generate a first real chance at goal.  Despite Denton holding all the early cards they refused to play any real aces and farted around at the rear with the keeper guilty of indecision and fortunate to see a return shot not find the netting. The guests forced the issue, Booth away and crossing, No 10 (Liam Turner) nearly applied the killer execution, the emphasis unfortunately was on the 'nearly'.  

From the latest assault on goal Windle Labour countered, 19 (Danny Bate) worked the wing, cut in and hit a low cross that No 7 (Ryan Cook) got on the end of and touched home all too simply.  Seconds later a long ball from the back saw No 9 (Liam Bowden) collect, touch, turn and stroke home to double his side's lead, it was a nicely taken strike and really stunned the visitors to the soles of their feet.  The Town were looking in disarray, positional play was lacking, zonal marking absent and no sooner had I finished scribbling my thoughts than a third goal was conceded but luckily for Denton, was ruled offside.  The hosts were now on top, Bate was unlucky not to nip in and grab another, just that one step delay and the chance was gone.  Denton were playing too high, Labour's Cook tried to chip the keeper and was just off target and then the same player snuck in, the ball was hoofed away, Bate sent in a nob-numbing belter that the mitter just saved.  A collision followed, a leg was swung and after a bit of pushing and shoving the man between the sticks was requested to leave the pitch - I am still unsure why.

A shower now fell with spite, No 4 (James Grimes) of Denton took over the last man duties and was called into action when a low screamer needed neatly pushing around the post.  Soon after Bate was moving with menace, a sweet ball to No 10 (Dale Whitehead) saw a turn and a twat and a 3 - 0 scoreline set in stone - this game had all the signs of becoming a procession.  The home lads were keen to get a bagful, a free-kick saw a header boom off the bar, a follow-up shot ensued and was saved.  Due to the chilly rain I found myself desperately wanting an Arthur Bliss, I am a man of 53, the prostate gland is not what it was - I dashed for the comfort of the karsi as the half-time whistle blew - in utter darkness the plumbing was flushed through, I could have broke into song with relief.

A cuppa for half-time and a ham sandwich, back out and with the front of my pants urine-free, a now whipping wind revitalising the senses the game restarted with much ardour.

No sooner had the second half began than The Town were once again spending too much time on the ball at the back allowing Cook to gain possession, shoot and see the ball crawl over the line - game, set and match, but will the lesson ever be learned by the visiting rearguard.  Denton somehow bagged a corner next, the ball was knocked long over all rising bonses, No 5 (Cole McGrath) was waiting at the back post to bury - surely this wasn't the beginning of the comeback of all comebacks.  From here though, after a rather balanced period, Windle worked hard, Denton played the ball back to the keeper way too many times but the guests eventually broke and won a free-kick that No 9 (Nathan Lewis) placed on target with the home mitter doing well to push behind.  The following corner was shite.

I will give Denton due credit here as they began to boss the game and try and find a way back in.  Windle were indeed playing into the dull wind, it was no easy task but when a long ball was mopped up and returned with added interest and a quick cross came, the touch home by Bate put this one out of sight for the travelling team and certainly killed the game as a contest.  The bolt of Denton now seemed shot, the hosts passed the ball and won a throw-in from a quite innocuous position.  The ball was tossed, all heads and legs missed it, Cook was their to collect and rifled one towards goal - pick that out - 6 - 1, where's the champagne, the hat-trick hero has a thirst.  The latter stages saw Booth and No 12 (Ryan Millington) have pops for the trailing pack, both with little success.  No 6 (Liam McDowell) bust a bollock to beat 2 players next and was crudely grounded.  He was fully justified in venting his spleen and asking the referee, in raised tones, whether he was mad.  The follow-on verbals saw the player sent to the bin of sin and as the game closed in somewhat messy fashion Denton could consider things, all in all, a shit day at the office.  Man of the Match for me goes to Windle Labour's No 4 (Matthew Watkins) who, after the opening slip, recovered well, was loquacious throughout, always read matters for himself and his teammates and was a real stubborn rock in defense that, like a Herring Gull with a bag of chips, gave sweet FA away.  It goes without saying that as we 3 onlookers pootled off home none of us had predicted the score-line - the unpredictability is what makes this non-league lark so ruddy fascinating.

FINAL THOUGHT - In sun, rain and wind we came and we witnessed and went home wondering.  After considering the culmination of events it seems to me that Denton Town need to get their act together and do it darn quickly.  How many times did we see the ball played back to the keeper today?  Too darn many if you ask me but what is the cause?  A lack of options, a lack of confidence, a lack of movement - it is the first area to sort and that is for sure.  Secondly the lack of width seems a concern, why are they not playing the flanks and stretching teams.  Thirdly, when up shit creek why not go for it?  I remain baffled but hey, all I have is a viewpoint, and so do many others - I am just being transparent and hopefully helpful.  There is enough skill within the weave, a lot of work needs doing to get each component working as part of one well-oiled machine.  Windle Labour looked good today, they seemed sharp, used all areas of the pitch and had many players hollering for a piece of the action.  They do 'switch off' at times, just ask the Man of the Match who bellowed at his comrades to keep on it.  They seem to have a good morale though, let us hope in stickier moments on tougher days they stay focused and stay supportive of one another - if so, they will do just fine.  It was a nice trip out this, the Cheshire League offers great entertainment that is primarily free -  big up to all who make this happen.

STYAL AND SUBSTANCE

13th August 2019 - Denton Town 0 v 2 Styal FC - This is my 5th match of a season that is still in its infancy with many teams tottering about, some up and walking and some still floundering and in need of a slurp on the teet of motivation.  As per, I am planning to watch and report on 60 matches this campaign provided the authorities don't get to me first for crimes against literary decency. So far I have witnessed 8 different teams do their thing and 12 goals hit the net as well as seeing several nervous breakdowns take place on the touchline and one lady get carried away after striving to break wind and unexpectedly giving birth to a rubber Jack Russell.  I have met some good folk, some regular touchline pals and have high hopes of another season of ups, downs and roundabout turns.   Denton Town will be getting more than a fair share of attention because my heart is always with the underdog and the DIY doofers and we always seem to get a good game of football whenever we turn up at this favoured spot.  Tonight my missus was with me again (she is becoming a real Denton Town stalwart) and we met up with STP Stu, a man attending on the back of a correct score prediction and looking to double-up on his success rate (which I hope he doesn't as we will never hear the last of it).  So tea supped, predictions made, jaws wagged and spots chosen, I expected goals, at least 4 or a stiff letter will be sent to all concerned as well as their parents, neighbours, closest friends and local MP.  Be warned the letter will contain graphical language, coarse but apposite references and...dum de, dum dum...line-drawings in green felt tip.

The grass was graced by the pins of 22 hoofers and one fellow in the role of judge and jury.  The bag of air was kicked on the dot of 7pm, the first salvo of promise came via the pack of predators from the crannies of Cheshire.  2 early corners were the result, both were delivered with adequate threat, the hosts did well to protect and survive.  The guests came once more, No 10 (Markell Bennett) collected, swivelled like a gymnast's disjointed hip and let fly.  The keeper stretched and did well to push the ball onto the vertical with the following corner going in, out, back in before landing in the arms of the reliable mitter.  Eventually the home 'erberts warmed to the task, a few interesting balls were tossed forth making sure the opponents didn't get too lackadaisical.  Whilst advancing however the Town were caught on the hop, a corner was won at the opposite end, duly delivered and with No 8 (Matthew Clarke) in the midst of a melee the ball pinged outward and ended up bulging the net - the question being, who the Hell got the final touch, I think it was an own goal!

Now a strike to the good Styal had their peckers up, No 7 (Jardel Depeiaza) went on a marauding run, he put two sharp crosses into the danger zone but the defenders were up to the task.  Denton earned a kick from the angle next, it was poor to say the least, Styal broke, No 3 (Zydane McCarthy-Brooks) galloped like a man with the shits, he was duly bumbled and handbags were drawn.  Some pushing, shoving, worked up verbals - oh the silly sods.  As the guests came again the keeper was caught off his line and rode his luck and then a break saw a corner for Denton earned which No 5 (Ryan Liddle) delivered.  A crust rose and touched the ball to the back post, No 9 (Nathan Edwards) gathered and looked to bury, alas the gloved guardian was down to save the day.  Another corner was collected, boomed forth with No 2 (Shackeel Depeiaza) on it and hammering, with an home rear warrior just doing enough. 

The Styal bench rose in thermal dynamics, they were duly told off for their heated language, the threat of the naughty chair loomed large for the manager.  The game on the pitch also became spicy, matters seemed to be on a very short fuse for sure with the referee struggling to stay in control.  From the sparks the ever-industrious No 3 (Mike Bennett) for the home team had a few good runs with Bennett for the away side a permanent splinter in the local chuff.  Some good endeavour from both units saw the sphere (not round object, take note Denton Dave) get wellied back and forth with no real chance at a further goal had.  At the death though No 9 (Nathan Lewis) for Denton was threaded through with only the keeper to negotiate.  The shot that came lacked direction and conviction, the save was solid enough.  A final cross needed the merest touch but never came and half-time it was.

Tea was a must, it was a lovely evening but a slight nip was in the air and just causing the pimples on my chest to harden.  I know I get worked up watching footballing but this would be deemed pornographic and I refuse to go down that route for the sake of seeking free publicity - I must get my knitted bra out for the next game.

The second half began with much bluster and great arduous battling.  Denton dug deep in their reserves, won a free-kick, had a few sorties forth and had a corner that came to nowt.  A period of midfield mayhem followed, No 16 (Liam Turner) and No 17 (Aiden Hopkins) of Denton were making notable contributions and causing much fluster but it was No 11 (Clevon Beadle) of Styal who sprung next, a shot came, a save, another effort and a follow-up block, No 9 (Joe Knight) with another chance but the blazing boom was off target.   Town then indulged in a moment of madness, duly pissed about at the rear and saw the ball pilfered and buried by the aforementioned Knight.  A suicidal moment to say the least, soccer seppuku incarnate, 0 - 2 to the visitors.

A response was now needed, it came, No 15 (Sakib Islam) had a shot deflected wide, the corner that came was crap.  No 10 (Nathan Lewis) had a fair effort sneak inches by the upright and despite the scoreline hope was still in the air as well as 2 passing Swifts and a flock of feeding House Martins.  The back end of the match was done in decreasing light, Denton were still guilty of spending too long on the ball in the rear with a Styal attack the result of such dawdling and culminating in an opportunity for Bennett to sign, seal and deliver the result.  Thankfully for the hosts the toe poke went around the far stick.  A brace of corner kicks came in return - the first was nutted by No 12 (Ellis Tucker) at the near post and was deflected wide, the follow on falling to a striker a couple of feet out who somehow jabbed the ball into the mitters arms.  As darkness nudged in, No 8 (Matthew Clarke) for the travellers was denied a strike by some last ditch defending and from the final murk a corner came with Clarke having another go and nutting with power, forcing the keeper to neatly tip over.  A halt to matters was finally declared, I pondered the Man of the Match and went for Styal's No 1 (Connor Beard) for several decent saves, an abundance of off-the line scampering, numerous long balls that put the wind up the opposition and a consistent showing of quick-thinking - darn tidy work sir.  After farewells we pootled homeward, all 3 of us are rather fond of Denton and the fine folk that operate there behind the bar, round the ground and on the pitch, we shall return.

FINAL THOUGHT - Thoughts on both teams have been rolled around the cerebral palette, slept on and considered some more.  I think Styal have great promise this time around and have a wealth of pace in all areas of the park and many options on show but, they seem to be on the cusp of blowing a fuse and if they don't watch it could overstep the mark and ended up pissing on many savory chips - I hope this is not the case.  The bench has good passion and keeps the team motivated and moving, they just need to make sure they keep them disciplined as well and I feel, come season end, this group of gallopers could be right in the mix.  Denton Town showed a rare commodity tonight that, I feel, will serve them well over the coming months, a commodity known as 'resilience'.  They battled from the trenches tonight, kept their discipline and in truth, were unlucky not to snatch a draw from this match.  The re-match down in Cheshire could be a mighty interesting affair, I best keep tabs on these two teams and hopefully get my arse down and scribble another report.  In the meantime, get out and support teams like this folks and forget the big business bullshit at the upper end that means sweet FA - think on, this is Fungalpunk, news at Ten, G- Manchester (Reginald Bosanquet kiss my arse).

ELL ON EARTH

10th August 2019 - Cheadle Heath Nomads 3 v 0 Ellesmere Rangers - A chilled morning for once, I got up late, sorted some gall photo's and put them on the website with relevant information.  I listened to some new punk vibes, a smattering of political folk and some arse tearing hardcore music, exercised the aging joints and had a good dinner.  I even found time to read my latest book, a collection of tales by the genius that is Guy Du Maupassant, the first being entitled 'Pierre et Jean', a striking tale of jealousy, ambition and exposed secrets.  The weather today was akin to the love life of a cock-less turkey and seemed rather unpromising but undeterred I headed down to this local ground early, indulged in tea and chocolate and chatted with many fine faces.  To avoid the risk of rectal rheumatic I headed for the cover of the stands and parked my rear in the usual spot whilst the pitch got doused and those deemed insane let their barnets be bombarded by the falling droplets.  I expected goals today with my pre-match prediction given to the Nomads coach and manager earlier in the week.  Will my forecast come true and the champagne corks of celebration be heard to pop or will things fall flat and will I once more be supping from the rusted Tango can of defeat and rueing my prophesying efforts - I promise to come clean at the end of this report.

The start was even enough, Ellesmere displayed initial promise with a few free-kicks and fluent moves keeping their opponents honest.  The first foray with any purpose came via the hosts with No 11 (Ashley Harrison) turning his marker inside out and putting in a solid cross. Attack arrivals were conspicuous by their absence, chance gone.  Again the Nomads came, No 7 (George Blackwell) tossed over a stunning cross that was collected by Harrison at the far stick.  A touch back, No 3 (Stephen Kirby) put the ball in with a corner won and duly wasted.  2 free-kicks came the same way, the first was awful, the second hit too long, this just wasn't good enough.  Like watching a victim of vomiting and diarrhoea we witnessed a period of end to end action but No 2 (Sam Carpenter) and No 4 (Jake Wright) were stubborn at the rear and always involved in clearing up any mess.  The hosts did find the net at one stage but a handball decision defecated on any rising hopes - shit does happen.

As we fell forward into the gaping orifice of the first half the home lads began to belch out something akin to 'control'.  Harrison had a meaty dig that pinged off a defensive cranium and went for an angled kick.  The ball was hoofed in, knocked out and re-crossed whereupon No 5 (Luke Taylor) rose, hung in suspended animation and nutted home with sanguinity and bagged the first goal of the game - it had been coming.  From here the Nomads were allowed a ridiculous amount of time and space on the ball, the only real chance gained though was when a cross found the noggin of No 9 (Richard Tindall) who nutted wide from a few feet out and must have been overjoyed to see the offside flag overshadow his embarrassment.  A corner followed moments later, the dig was firm and of mid height, No 10 (Danial Browne) made solid cranial contact and found the net from a quite acute angle - for me it was deserved and already put the game beyond the visiting tribe's reach who were, unlike Barbara Windsor, offering little up front.  To be fair The Rangers had a minor flourish late on, No 11 (William Wells) cut in and blazed a direct boomer but the home No 1 (Aaron Tyrer) kept his concentration and sweetly blocked with an outstretched glove.  2 corners came and produced nothing whilst a kick from the angle at the other end after some quick feet via No 7 (George Blackwell) ended with a shot by No 6 (Adam Stuart) who just couldn't keep the ball down.  The whistle perhaps was a blessed relief.

A brew for half-time, whilst walking to the brewing bar I noted the Milky Conecap Fungus (Conocybe apala) and whilst being served a Rose Sawfly (Arge pagana) was picked out by my fellow football chum, STP Stu.  Walking back to our standing point John D informed us of a few football scores, none from the Premiership though, we have no interest in that bunch of business orientated bullshit.

The second half began with Cheadle exposing pace, Blackwell was immediately threaded through at a slight angle, alas the shot was more like a back pass rather than a dig at goal.  In return to this attempt on goal the yellow clad No 8 (Seth Elis) of Ellesmere tried his luck but the shot was low and without spite - the game now needed an injection of gusto, preferably right up its jacksie.  Suddenly, from a 'nothing moment', a low free-kick was put in by the hosts which Tindall connected with and somehow touched home - 3 - 0 - it was all too easy.  The clock, the tempo, the situation (or 'shit-uation) were all against the guests, they battled on and contributed to a stodgy game that saw flow lacking and attention to detail slacking.  No 7 (James Gregory-Cork) advanced for the guests, put one across the goalmouth only to see a lack of urgency by the attackers let the ball go by untouched. 

The backside fell out of the game in one big dollop of disappointment has both teams stuttered and staggered like one-legged pygmy's on acid.  From the bilge water Tindall had another touch at goal that went wide and then a blistering multi-pass move, that saw Wright and Kirby as key components, was finalised by a low drill from Stuart that wasn't too far of the mark.  Ellesmere cultivated another period of hope, a penalty shout was the pinnacle, the referee was having none of it.  A cross came after more hustling, it went over the reaching keeper, once again there were no takers on hand.  The last suggestion of excitement came with an in-box indirect free-kick for the hosts.  A touch, shot block, a touch, another shot block and then the keeper gratefully grabbed.  With one more bonus boot wasted this Hell-ish second half was brought to a close with many punters walking off unimpressed - it hadn't been a classic.  From the mire though I found a few rays of hope, the Man of the Match was one of them it goes to Cheadle Heath Nomad's No 5 (Luke Taylor) who was an immovable force at the back, got his head on most balls,  read the game well throughout and put in many effective tackles - the goal was a veritable bonus. 

FINAL THOUGHT - Hark, is that a champagne cork I hear going off, is that the sweet melodic fizz of exotic bubbles flowing over the rim of the most delicate glass, alas it is not!  Instead we hear the vulgar slurp of a man who cringes at the sour juices of defeat as the prediction made once again has gone awry.  Nevertheless, the embarrassment is taken in good heart as this was a match that exposed many answers to many questions.  Ellesemere came, stuttered and in truth left me wondering 'where do they go from here'?  They battled, and worked hard but failed to make any real impression on the game and never really built up any momentum, the season could be a nightmare if they don't get the ball rolling soon.  The Nomads got the job done today with a few quality performances especially in the rear ranks.  The fact is though, this was not good enough and they need to perk up when they face quicker teams and sides with a more fluent approach and killer instinct.  These may be early teething problems, the season is still young and many are just out of the blocks.  There is promise here, but there is promise elsewhere, the question is, who will tap into it first and set about a spirited sequence of success - come the end of this opening month things will be a lot clearer.  As a footnote I must had that John D and STP Stu both called the correct score today, I wonder if they had any inside information, I went home a very bitter and twisted man.

INITIAL IN-DENT-ATIONS

6th August 2019 - Denton Town 2 v  0 Maine Road Reserves - Early chomping on the flesh of the season is being had whilst we get the chance.  The impending fungal season will soon be here and see us flitting around like spore-infested fly's and  leading walks here and there whilst striving to stay afloat.  My second book is still ongoing and taking up a wedge of time, next year will be used to proof-read and finalise and work will begin on another couple of tomes too - I do get rather carried away.  Work grabbed a large chunk of today and after a couple of hours at home me and the missus made our way to one of our favourite locations.  The game tonight showcased the joys of life in Cheshire League Division 1 with its warts exposed, its unwashed arse stuck in the air and the doofers involved that eternally dabble striving to make an impression.  STP Stu ventured out tonight, we all supped tea and nattered, once again the thoughts turned towards the final outcome.  To avoid a showing up all shall be kept, like the genitalia of the old Coronation Street sex-bomb, Percy Sugden - kept securely under wraps.

At 6.45pm the teams got stuck in to battle with an early corner won by the guests.  The ball went in, went out, a placed shot followed by the No 6 (Finn Thompson) who saw the bar clattered. A close-in follow-up shot was blocked and the keeper eventually gathered. The Town responded with a twinkle-toed move, the sweet sequence was attractive to the eye, the end scuffed shot though was less dazzling.  This was a nice open game, I expected goals but made sure I kept 'schtum' - it would be foolish to jinx the promise.  The home lads made the best of the early running, No 8 (Jake Bates), No 7 (Liam Turner) and No 2 (Liam Ellis) were particularly noteworthy and contributing to a fine Denton opener.  The incessant tempo was maintained,Turner for The Town was released, a shot was there to be had, a cross came instead and the chance evaporated quicker than the perspiration on a humping Hippo's rear.  The Road wouldn't sit back and cracked forth with a shot over the bar via No 11 (Joel Green) and then No 10 (Anthony Thomas) and Thompson having digs but failing to cause any real tit-tingling excitement.  

A period of head tennis arose from a bout of tasty tackling, the final stroke saw the visiting No 9 (Joseph Keyworth) race through and look to hit a direct 'ace' over the advancing keeper.  The shank swung, the ball was propelled, the awaiting net was left un-rippled.  Denton offered, by way of reply, a sizzling cross that just needed a killer touch. It never arrived and a follow-on free-kick was deflected over too - still no breakthrough folks and as the awarded corner kick went to the back post, the header wasn't even close - hey bloody ho.  No 3 (Will Watts) for the away team produced some fine flank work next which ended in a throw in.  The ball was tossed forth, knocked out and fired back, the keeper was in the right place and collected without fuss.  Back and forth we went, chances had at each end, No 10 (Nathan Lewis) for The Town hoofed over twice, Maine Road had a couple of pops but the mittman was always in the way.  From some midfield play the host No 4 (Ryan Liddle) knocked forth a hopeful ball, Turner chased what appeared to be a lost cause, on the end line he stuck out a shank and somehow kept the ball in and fed the awaiting No 9 (Nathan Edwards) who took his time, eyed the goal and bagged the first strike of the night.  

Town were now on a roll, a free-kick came after some gut-busting work.  No 11 (Aiden Hopkins) stepped up, sent the sphere around the wall but could only find the side-netting.  Before the half-time whistle much friskiness came via Ellis for the home squad who should have doubled his side's lead after being released but somehow the chance went begging.  It had been a good half nonetheless, a cuppa was very much needed though.

A slurp and a chat, the game was still anyone's with both units showing some fine promise.  I checked to see if anyone was placing bets, there were no takers, I think the locals have more sense.

From the second-half kick off Watts for the guests galloped, shot and was denied by a wide-awake keeper.  The same team came once more, a penalty shout was ignored and then a corner came to the back post that saw Thomas knock the ball over the bar.  The Blues continued this early dictation but Town sprung a surprise, Hopkins was in a position to bury but the visiting mitter produced a quite excellent save. Soon after the hosts hurtled forth with great enterprise once again, No 5 (Ellis Tucker) was involved in a good link-up, crossed and saw Turner bolt into the box and nudge the globe just off target.  The urgency, pace and passion eventually saw both teams find the net but with both potential goals ruled out due to impeding infringements of the law.  This though, was a very entertaining match, still on a precarious precipice and waiting for one team to assert itself and get that opening day 3 point prize.  Town used a long ball next, Hopkins collected, beat his marker but shot straight at the keeper.  Again the opposition counter-punched, a break, a corner, a long ball over the top,  The latter fell to the feet of No 7 (Leo Brookfield) who put one over the keeper and, unfortunately, over the bar.

The game continued at a mighty pace, Road won a free-kick, Watts put a dinker into the box from which the home lads broke. 2 shots came at the apex of the attack, one blocked by a stretching defender, the other saved by the keeper.   A corner ensued, the guests dealt with it and then added some late pressure but the Denton side were answering all questions asked with the final throes seeing more advancements and resisting moves.  Bates squeaked in a shot shy of the zone, No 14 (Matty Booth) donated a sizzling cross that was touched goalward and wonderfully saved and then Ellis had a chance to kill the game, missed the initial opportunity to pull the trigger then suddenly had a second glimpse of goal and duly buried.  2 - 0 job done it seemed.  The travellers still tried to grab something from the lost cause with Thomas denied by a superb save indicating it just wasn't going to be the night of The Blues.  In the dying light No 17 (Kyle Dunkerley) for Denton could have bagged a third but put a shot from the angle across the face of an open goal and then No 15 (Sakin Islam) launched one and took a few millimetres of paint off the crossbar.  The game finally ended, it had been worth the trip once more with many good performances noted.  man of the Match goes to Denton Town's No 2 (Liam Ellis) though for some good pitch coverage, tidying passing, a tireless work-rate and for snatching a goal to seal the victory and put icing on his own personal cake - here's to many more performances of a similar ilk.

FINAL THOUGHT - Each and every time I go to Denton Town I feel like a pig in utter shit and come away always happy with what I have seen and the DIY effort witnessed.  Tonight was no exception and despite most of the team having a change around and new clientelle involved the performance was one to fully applaud and get one thinking of a possible promotion.   The lads on show ran themselves ragged, chased, harassed and buzzed like wasps with a prostate condition and made sure their worthy opponents never had chance to fully settle.  Many players were noted and I reckon if this squad sticks together the future is looking as rosy as Tom Brown's arse after one of Flashman's roastings.  Maine Road Reserves will undoubtedly do well for themselves in this league and will get many a good run out for players just not ready for the first team proper.  I can envision this team also up there in the mix at the end of the season, they look to have a good work ethic and playing style to put them in good stead.  The key now is to get that first win under the belt and start building, it will come sooner rather than later - by heck I reckon this league could be worthy of many a football fans time.  

CHANCES WASTED, LOSS AND VICTORY TASTED

5th August 2019 - Maine Road 2 v 2 Abbey Hey - The day today was spent leading a wildlife walk, recording wildlife, having a quick read and then using public transport to get to the ground of my choice.  The good lady was doing yoga after work, I have tried it several times and ended up with a permanent U-bend in my John Thomas and a ruddy hunched-back - I'll stick to playing darts although even that has its moments has my one-eyed neighbour will testify.  Anyway, arriving early (5.15pm to be precise) I had a good catch up of my current book, 'The Guns of Navarone' by Alastair McClean - a tale of war, a thing I abhor, but this book has kept me rather enthralled.  I once read a similar book called 'The Buns of Al Capone' by Bugsy Bellend - it was a 600 page homage to the bullet-proof buttocks of the famed gangster - I was not convinced.  Away from these digressions and after a brew and a pie a few faces turned up with whom I wagged the mandible - namely John D, Gluebag Pete, Dave Potter and Andy Gray.  We all made predictions, I went for a rather outlandish scoreline, as per, I expected to be way off the mark come game end.  We all took up our positions, due to the curvature of the cock I had to be quite careful - darn that body-bending guru!

The opening soccerised sequences made for a rather open game but with very little in the way of tit-tingling action borne.  From a Hey corner the hosts broke with zeal, No 7 (Matthew Morgan) found himself with the globe, took one touch, cut inwards and shot mere inches over the bar.  From here the Blue Boys started to put together the classier moves and flowed with zoned in attention, the only thing lacking was the final precise pass.  As both sides began to feel each other out (surely a prison offence) the guests persistently looked to the right flank to find success.  There remained very little in it, the game began to die on its feet as both units snuffed each other out making for a very claustrophobic affair.  Out of the lapse Road spurted energy with No 11 (Jamie Hill) finding room and letting fly a fair hoof.  The ball sliced through the air with great impetus, alas the end result was another off target twatting - back to square one we go.

From out of nothing a superb through ball dissected the visiting ranks, Morgan received, looked to lay off but an impeding rear bod was in the way and the chance was banished to the files of 'wasted'.  No sooner had my scribbling pen left parchment than the same player had another dig.  I needn't have panicked - the shot was far from close.  The game was now warming up, Road's No 9 (Ben Davison) had two golden chances to break the deadlock, the first came after Hey's No 11 was robbed, the end shot was reckless.  The second opportunity saw a nip through and the goal beckon but the finalising dig lacked conviction and the keeper was down to save the day.  Maine Road continued to make most of the running whilst the Abbey mob absorbed and battled well.  Eventually the guests cultivated their first real chance via a rapid break that saw No 7 (Callum McGlynn) at the apex and place a lovely curling shot, around the mitter, that he was unfortunate to see ping off the upright.  As the half came to a close Road advanced with No 2 (Thomas Markham) putting in a more than adequate cross that No 8 (Ben Mooney) could only nut wide.  Again the Blue's surged, some neat feet in and around the box were exposed, it was all too quick for the Abbey Hey pack and when a sweet ball came a bumbling tackle was committed and a penalty awarded.  Morgan stepped up and took the spot kick.  The corner was picked but pace was lacking allowing the keeper to fling his carcass low and tidily save.  Before the half-time whistle Davison had yet another chance but the shot was duly blocked - it was a barren affair with the hosts pondering many 'what might have beens'.

For half-time I stayed put and nattered with the aforementioned folk.  It was sad to hear that John D was selling his sexual tea-pot collection and that Gluebag Pete had packed in the solvents and was now sniffing sawdust.  Good news came via David Potter though who has recently added a 4 fingered effigy to his plastic hand collection and good old Andy Gray has at last found someone who will cover up his Lionel Blair tattoo after a recent trip to Blackpool went all awry - what a world hey!

The teams came out for half two, Road were at it with Davison once again trying his luck but coming up short after a shot on the turn went shy of the vertical.  Hill had a crack soon after but elevation was indeed elevated and then Mooney was at the latter end of a rapier move but saw the keeper get down quicker than a manic depressive and keep his netting 'un-rippled'.  From here the Hey responded, No 4 (Matthew German) knocked a peach to the angle, a cross followed and No 8 (Luke Hincks) rose to head.  The keeper was in the way, gathered and started a move that saw No 10 (Jamie Roe) show impressive feet, lose the ball only for the opponents to dawdle and German to get robbed. Davison for the Blues wasted no time and eventually grabbed his, and the game's, first goal.  And about bloody time too!

Now the resident ranks moved with purpose, a sizzling cross followed a simple manoeuvre, a defensive header came but thumped the ball goalward, the save was absolutely first class and made sure this was still a viable contest.  After the visitors had a brief flurry The Road countered once more with Davison finalising the sequence.  Abbey Hey's goolies of hope were there to be squeezed, the shank swung and the ball was projected forth but the end execution was shabby to say the least and another lifeline was offered by the very charitable striker.

From a scrappy period with very little progress either way Abbey Hey swept forth in eye-catching style and were only finally snuffed out by a top notch tackle from the ever-industrious Roe.  Hey were undaunted, pressure came, a quite uncomplicated move bore fruit with a ball out wide, a cross and header leveling the scores and throwing this one up in the air.  The gatherer of the glory was No 9 (Dillon Kirkman) - it was perhaps against the run of play but Abbey Hey had stuck to their task and were deserved of this equaliser.  Into the last 10, the travellers were finishing strongly, the hosts looked slightly ruffled when a through ball came, a hopeful cross had and an uncertain No 4 (James Schofield) for The Road put his cranium on the sphere and found his own net.   A tragedy, a shocker, surely that was indeed...that!  Not so, the final gasps, the Blues were fighting to save the day, one of the subs had a swivel and shot in the box and found the side-netting.  A deflection had occurred, with seconds on the clock a corner was given.   The kick from the angle blazed in, many heads rose, it was a blue clad player that made the crucial connection, the underside of the bar was struck, the ball was buried, 2 - 2 and the whistle came immediately after.  Now that was a real unexpected finish - phew!

From the ashes of the game and after a brief post-mortem the Man of the Match goes to Abbey Hey's No 1 (Dane Smith) for a fine 'between the stick's effort that saw many stops and blocks keep his side in the game and for a general consistency that will surely save his sides bacon throughout the season.  On another day Maine Road could have had this one done and dusted, this gloved guardian certainly deserves the nod for his efforts.

FINAL THOUGHT - The crucial question from tonight's game was 'can we judge the 2 teams on the evidence so far and make a prediction as to where they will end up'?  I am sure we can't as there was nothing outstanding on show and nothing to suggest that either unit will sink or swim.  I have tipped Maine Road for a top 5 finish, that is neither here nor there with my predicting record, but I do expect good things from them, as long as they get that assassins blood surging through their veins and make sure that their hard, quick-footed work is finalised with many goals.   Too many chances were missed tonight, in the end it cost them and come season end these minor failures could count very heavily indeed.  Abbey Hey are a battling unit, made up of several ex-Cheadle Town players who all seem to have a good understanding of one another.   They did lack a creative streak tonight apart from a few players who were thinking on their feet and looking to unlock matters with many choice passes.  I think they will be OK come season end but August is a busy month and if momentum doesn't build soon and points start clocking up the mire awaits with its big gaping maw ready to devour - you have been warned.

NEWCOMERS NOBBLE THE HEYS

3rd August 2019 - Golcar United 2 v 1 Prestwich Heys - The first day of the new season started with myself and good lady up early and yomping around Dalton Bank Nature Reserve where we worked up a sweat greater than the lather Quentin Crisp had produced when he got stuck in a Working Men's Club whilst wearing his skimpiest sequined shorts.  Up, down and all around we went, it was a ruddy warm one but well worth the effort with 114 species clocked up and all ready to be recorded.  The only blight was seeing a few patches of trash dropped no doubt by a species not on show today, namely the Pimpled Arsed Litterbug (Selfishus bastardonia) - I hope the shits become extinct real soon.  After lunch in the car we headed to the ground for today's hoofing antics, we arrived 25 minutes later.  Once inside we brought some drinks and 2 choccy bars and lazed in the sun reading our books and soaking up the rays.  Eventually a healthy crowd began to build (well apart from a few pot-bellied buggers and one or two arthritic victims) and we took up our viewing positions and chatted to a lovely bloke called Richard who was doing a spot of hopping even though his legs looked to be of the same length.  The teams eventually came out, this is the first of many reports this year, I am hoping those that read them don't resort to Prozac as many perusers did last year - I am trying my best.

The start was dazzling, particularly so by the hosts, with the urgency to make an impression in this new campaign most blatant.  An early free-kick was consigned to the files marked 'wank' but this, in no way whatsoever, dented the home teams initial ardour that was laden with zest.  Heys, despite being on the back shank, did manage a free-kick that was sweetly delivered but the in-box mis-control banished all optimism as well as any chance of a shot on goal.  Golcar continued to dictate when, from a seemingly lost position, their No 7 (Ryan Mackay) was out wide and being persistently harassed.  He stood his ground, stubbornly refused to lose the ball and dug out a cross after riding 2 robust tackles.  The ball entered the box, No 11 (Ben Burnett) floated in and executed a sweet touch that saw the ball find the inside of the net and break the initial deadlock.  What an ideal start and what a way to sign, seal and deliver the potential of the early promise - game on!

From this point Golcar continued to apply pressure and a moment of exquisite passing saw No 8 (Jordan Townend) release a middling effort that the mitter could only parry to safety.  The guests eventually got a slight foothold in proceedings but as they advanced Mackay for the hosts pilfered and threaded a pass to Burnett whose shot was very tame indeed and pissed on the chance to double his side's lead.  The Prestwich pack took heed of this scare and began to advance with purpose.  No 2 (Jacob Wood) roamed forth, received in the corner and put in a pearling cross.  No 11 (Will Shawcross) was in the right place at the right time and buried via the crust - it was an equaliser against the run of play but they all count. 

No sooner had the balance been regained than No 8 (Bradley Sixsmith) for the travellers had a dig that went just over.  Had the tide turned?  Did Golcar have King Canute on the bench?  Would a nude Telly Savalas look-a-like parachute in and force the game to be called off?  It is all about questions, questions, questions!  No 10 (Rio Wilson-Heyes) had the next crack, the save that followed was adequate and then a free-kick was awarded but No 9 (Shelton Payne) knocked forth a stinker and we stayed as we were.  The settled period that followed saw the hosts have a corner fisted away which saw a long ball follow and the visiting Payne duly gallop after.  The home No 5 (Kiero Lawrence) was having none of it, stayed focused, read the run of the ball and just did enough to force the striker into making a rather rushed shot that went off target.

As the game approached the break No 10 (Michael Tunnacliffe) for United had an effort fly high and then Prestwich Heys took their eyes off the task at hand, allowed their opponents to string together a couple of in-box passes that eventually fell to the tootsies of No 9 (Alex Hallam) who pinged the ball home with very little fuss.  Another shot soon after saw another gloved parry and we were done.  Golcar had their noses in front, I think they were deserved of the advantage.

With 379 in attendance we stayed put for the break, chatted to the aforementioned Richard and considered what would happen next.  I fancied the away team to turn this around, I gave air to my opinion, if one cared to look closely enough one would have observed that all words came from the seat of my pants - the cruder folk out there refer to it as 'talking through one's arse' - ooh the plebians.

The second half started with good spirit although a few touchline verbals were rather repulsive and I did feel for the many young nippers in attendance who certainly didn't need subjecting to such pointless bilge.  Heys cracked on regardless, Wood found space, played a tidy ball that Payne collected.  The turn was rapid, the shot whacked off without thought, the side-netting was ballooned inward - ooh heck.  The game now became spicy, the heated madness off the pitch spilled onto the pitch as several players came together, postured, pushed and posed and then saw the darn silliness of the situation.  The next action was borne of the rising tension as the home No 1 (Harry Stead) had a rush of blood, dashed out and lost the ball whereupon Payne let fly from out wide but could only watch on as the ball flashed across the face of the goal.  

Proceedings progressed, shabby shots at both ends were donated, several substitutions followed for each team as the dangling testes of success were there for the grabbing - whose mitts of belief would be big enough that is the question?  The last 20 minutes were entered, some delicious link-up play around the box was executed by the home pack, Townend shot after a swift 3 pass passage, the ball just wouldn't stay down.  At the other end, Wilson-Heyes produced some dainty feet but could only find the side netting, were we in for a hair-raising climax - if so, would it affect my balding pate - oh the uncertainty of it all.

The final throes, a Heys free-kick was nutted over, it didn't matter, the huffing and puffing liner was waving his flag anyway.  A corner followed minutes later, the delivery was decent, the keeper knuckled away, the return shot by the substitute went wide, Golcar were holding onto their precarious lead.  During the last flings the resident team became a little frayed around the edges and as the rain started to fall one did wondered if the dreams of an opening day win would be washed away in an early non-league shocker.  I needn't have worried, after a Heys header was boomed over and Payne was booked for impersonating Jacques Cousteau in the box (now he was a great diver), the referee had seen enough and blew his trusted whistle - the home fans seemed rather delighted.  After farewells myself and my missus headed home with a decent match under the belt at the start of another long season.  The first choice for Man of the Match this time around goes to Golcar United's No 5 (Kiero Lawrence), for a never say die performance and for staying quiet and focused throughout and being a definitive lynchpin in his team's defence - perhaps he is one to watch, tis still early days but for now, well played fella.

FINAL THOUGHT - For me, the difference today was that Golcar United desperately wanted this one and put 110% in from the first whistle to the last.  They stayed rigid in defence, ran themselves into the ground and were utterly determined to start this season off on a positive note.  Prestwich Heys were like a cannabis-soaked sprinter, very slow out of the blocks and, when they did get running, they were never allowed to settle due to their opponents high energy value.  These early matches are mere peephole glimpses of what may unfold in the coming months but are far from a yardstick on which to make outlandish predictions.  Be under no illusions, come the final weeks Prestwich Heys will be there or there abouts and Golcar will have to maintain this solid start to stay with the pack.  The home team have the support, they are on an upward curve but these are hungry leagues and they will have many a tough encounter along their journey.  There are still many questions to be answered - so far its 1 down 37 to go - I am already absorbed.