13th February 2018 - 1874 Northwich 1 v 2 Ashton Athletic - The weather tried to interfere with tonight's match and I had had enough. To combat any chance of a postponement I nipped out on the previous evening and did my humble bit. I rounded up several homosexual midgets who owed me a favour and duly escorted them to West Didsbury and Chorlton's home ground whereupon I ordered them, at water-pistol point, to get stripped and bend over. Thinking their luck was in they duly obliged but rather than some sausage-based satisfaction they got a good crack on the chuff with my ever-ready cricket bat I had concealed about my person (God bless my flared trousers). With arses ringing and glowing red the only thing they could do to ease the pain was sit on the pitch and paddle themselves around on the cooling turf like a pack of puppies with piles. You may think this a strange scenario, but in madness there is a method and with all the ruddy bums sliding around the playing area much steam rose and from a pitch one could have deemed unplayable we now had a surface that even the greatest footballing Gods would be happy to play on. The midgets were duly released from my command and it was considered a debt paid. I got news through at work next day that the match was called off after an afternoon pitch inspection - I may be up for murder anytime soon, darn those tiny buttocked people. I went home and pondered the options and was blessed with the news that 1874 Northwich had got the all systems go. The game was on, the power of the pained posterior had been proven useless but that didn't deny me a weekly Non-League fix. Me and my good lady had tea and headed out, these two teams always put on a decent show and I expected a right cracking match tonight. Would we get an unexpected goal fest or a duff do to teach me a lesson against my abuse of miniature gay people. I hope not, I am anti-prejudice to the core, many colours make for a better landscape, the fruitcake of life is far tastier with many flavours - although there are always exceptions to the rule and shit does have many shades. Ahem, and so, to the match - we arrived, we were refused entry as the match hadn't been officially given the go ahead. We waited with a few worried heads, some distant bods pondered a muddy area and then thumbs were raised and we duly entered - phew. We had a chat with a few friendly faces (take a bow Pete), indulged in chips and tea and parked our fundaments. The teams appeared and we had high hopes, come on lads, let's have it!
Initially we had a match that saw two sides indulge in a feeling out process (ooh matron) with the first sign of danger falling to the 74 No 9 (Scott McGowan). He nipped in like a ferret on a chicken and sensed goal glory. Alas, the shot that followed was wickedly wide of the mark. Ashton responded to this early warning by attempting to string together several good passing sequences, they did fine to be fair but just over-elaborated matters instead of pouncing more at the opponents jugular. Ashton's No 4 (Callum Wilson) made a poor clearance next that allowed the home lads to cultivate an attack. The defender recovered and a corner was had. The ball went in, was knocked out with No 7 (Adam Whitlock) of Northwich having a nutted strike that was really to weak to cause mittman consternation. Ashton hustled and hassled, 1874 earned another angled punt and it came low and hard. The first player to attempt a strike only kicked night air, the second player got his gonads behind the dig, the globe flashed high over the bar. After the guests had won and wasted a corner the hosts broke with Whitlock chasing away and in the clear. He picked his spot, connected well and watched the ball fly across the turf with pace - he must have been highly disappointed to see it roll pass the far upright! Onwards Northwich came, exposing a good zeal that was matched by The Yellows obstinate resistance. This defiance caused much frustration from which perhaps came a defining moment. A 74 back pass put the keeper in a state of trouble, his kick went up rather than forward and the visiting band of battlers capitalised. One touch, a pass and it was 0 - 1 and a shock was on the cards. No 10 (Joel Brownhill) was the initial contributor to the potential upset - well taken sir!
1874 now had their tails up, Whitlock had a weak shot to try and start a resurgence. This was now a test of Ashton Athletic's robustness and 1874's ability to turn a game around when things were obviously not going to plan. Ashton remained unruffled and were playing some measured football and from the melee of much midfield mither No 9 (Dale Korie-Butler) was put through albeit at a very sharp angle. He still got a shot away but geometry was his enemy and the keeper collected the ball with certain ease. Now the salty home heads came on, one attack saw many chances appear to pull the trigger but for some reason delays were had and the opportunity was eventually snuffed out. A great move from Ashton followed, Brownhill had time to finish but the resident No 1 (Greg Hall) produced a quality stop. The home fans grew in gobbery, they tried to verbally shift their team's gears, it was all to no avail and when the referee blew for half-time there was only one side leaving the pitch with a spring in their step.
Half-time, a chinwag, a few yoghurt raisins, a chat with the daughter on the phone, she was back from Uni tomorrow - yippee!
The teams came back out, the hosts were working hard but the final killer touch was permanently lacking, was it just one of those nights? An agitation was now rising as Ashton absorbed and then won 2 free-kicks. There was no end strike to tear the guts out of their opponents but it maintained a certain pressure that was simmering throughout a now frenetic match. The away team worked and created a period where they seemed to be controlling the tempo and, due to yet more hassling, another error was made in the Northwich back pack. Korie-Butler needed no further encouragement and took the invite to double his teams lead with assured quality. He connected well and found the bottom corner of the net and had certainly won his side the full bounty of points.
From here on in the home lads had to scrap like dogs but they were perpetually unsettled by a team with their peckers up (oh and on such a chilly night too). As time wore on and chances were let slip one did wonder if the hosts would ever get on the score-sheet. Suddenly they won a corner, the ball was floated in and the guests defence seemed to part quicker than the butt cheeks of Larry Grayson on a promise. A free header was had, No 4 (Jack Pritchard) had risen to the challenge and nutted home a ray of hope - game back on. Ashton were not to be quelled for long however and soon after Brownhill rasped one goalward although just slightly off target. 74 now tried to build impetus and build a flush of success but Ashton Athletic were the veritable kidney stone in the host's footballing waterworks and consistently impeded any flow. The finish was frenzied, tackles flying in by two bands of desperadoes. Eventually the last seconds became a memory, the whistle was blown and on a night when the weather had been defied Ashton Athletic and come and put in a most admirable stint. The Man of the Match goes to their No 2 (Aaron Cringle) who epitomised his teams' efforts, worked his whack and in truth, if any team can put the blockers on a quality 1874 side then their defence must be doing something right - here was a prime example.
FINAL THOUGHT - The fact remains that 1874 Northwich are one helluva solid side and really do play some pleasing football and they should not be judged on tonight's scoreline. This was a decent match that saw them shook up and beaten by a team who defended well, hustled with purpose and finished when they had to. The home lads will be bouncing back and I for one will be catching up with them a few more times this season. The supporters tonight were in fine voice, they have a cup match to consider very soon, my fingers are crossed that all and sundry are laden with success. Ashton Athletic came and proved their quality tonight and put on a show that proved what can be done with head down hard work and a persistent perspired effort. These are a team I always keep an eye on and visit several times throughout the season - they are worth the effort and I hope that the promise shown can be slowly built on and they get their just desserts. The weather tried to mar our enjoyment tonight, it failed, but by heck our feet were cold when we got back in the car. On the way home we listened to Five Live and the football results and feedback, do ya know what - what a load of bollocks all that Premier and European football is when you compare it to the non-league beauty - a world apart and long may it stay that way! To the 149 that made the effort tonight, the players, officials and doofers - thank you!
Wednesday, 14 February 2018
Saturday, 10 February 2018
HEAVE-HO, FAILING FLOW
10th February 2018 - Hyde Utd 1 v 0 Colne FC - According to Eliza Doolittle 'The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain'. According to my own fair lady 'The rain is Manc is quite ruddy wank'. Can you guess which one is more relevant to this local non-league fan? And so, as I spent the morn sorting pictures of Sea Slaters, Devonshire Wainscot Moths, Edible Crabs and such like, I kept one beady eye on the tweet-waves and wondered at which ground we would end up at today. The window was repetitively tapped by falling droplets, the chill factor was enough to shrivel even a Rhino's nob and whatever option was forced upon us I would make sure that the winter thermals were used and we were internally stocked with victuals. Nowt worse than being in the cold and clemmed except perhaps being force fed Black Pudding by a nude and well-oiled Stan Ogden look-a-like - very nasty! So we dithered (literally) and dawdled and a final check of the non-league fixtures was had - as it turned out we ended up at Ewen Fields to watch an Evo-Stik North fixture. Upon arrival we purchased tea and some first class chips and duly awaited the teams. It was a blustery day, we had wrapped up warm and hoped for a cracking match to ease the winter blues.
Colne were early pace setters with consistent passing and holding play keeping the home team on their guard. The front chap for the visitors, No 9 (Harry Pratt) was a particular force using good weight and balance to cause considerable consternation for the hosting rear pack. The guests won a free-kick, a brace of half attempts came before No 8 (Bradley Knox) had a dig. The shot looked goal bound but was blocked on the line which in turn led to a Hyde break. No joy came but the game was warming up nicely. Seconds later Hyde sprung into extra life and when No 10 (David Brown) knocked a ball over the top, No 11 (Luke Porritt) collected and connected with what seemed a cross cum shot. Either way the ball took a deflection and ended up buried in the net - 1 - 0 to The Tigers and if truth be told, it was against the run of play.
Hyde were now invigorated, they won a free-kick on the outside angle of the box. No 8 (Big Khamsuk) stepped up and struck to the far corner. The ball was on target, the header that came to clear was mightily important. Hyde again, No 4 (Ross Day) and Brown linking up, the latter with a thump forth that needed a good save to keep the ball at bay. The globe was booted out, the Tigers had their tails up and Khamsuk was the next to try one but his decent effort was deflected wide. From the corner came nowt, we stayed as we were. Colne rode the pressure, they came back with some tidy and efficient link up play that saw No 7 (Matthew Morgan) finalise with a low, perilous cross. Hyde dealt with the threat and duly had the next effort on goal via Brown, who wove into space and shot through a developed gap. The mitter gathered low in the meat of his carcass and from here a veritable quiet patch ensued. Colne forced the issue, a sweet pass found No 10 (Alex Curran) who drove in a low steamer. The shot was smartly saved, it just needed that extra pep in the punch. The last effort of the half came after a substitute delay when a cross for Hyde saw Brown nod on and Porritt smash the side netting. The angle was acute but I am sure the player was more than a little miffed that he didn't hit the target. Seconds later No 9 (Dominic Marie) turned on a Pygmy's tit and swung the old shank. The ball flew with pace but went over the bar. The aforementioned pygmy rubbed his sore breast and that was that, half time and an evenly balanced affair.
We stayed put for the break, we couldn't be arsed to queue for a drink so chewed some Thornton's Special Toffee whilst we nattered - ooh me arthritic jaw!
Half two started in a balanced fashion with no team dominating matters - it was a theme that was set to last and provide little in the way of nipple-perking action. Colne passed well and looked to probe (watch yer arses lads), Hyde had the first effort on goal via a Khamsuk rasper. The ball was a dipper (no not the bird of the river) and just stayed too high to trouble the keeper - it was a nice try though! The next Tiger bite was countered when Pratt muscled away and punted. The save was all too easy, very disappointing. From here the hosts reignited their desire, No 3 (James Burke) won a midfield tackle, Marie chased, collected and tried to cash in. The punt was pinged wide, from the corner sweet FA was borne - in truth it was a mess. The Red Army reacted and created a half decent period of play, but no real pressure was put on their opponents defence. Morgan found time to cross and find No 3 (Andy Hollins) - again the shot was too tame, we needed someone to just lash and hope methinks. A snuff out continued, the canvas was in need of a splash of colour and as we wound down to the finish I did wonder where, if any, tones of tension or hues of excitement would arise. At the last, the Hyde Sub No 15 (Karl Jones) squeezed in a low cross for Marie to find at his tootsies. The striker paused, seemed to be in a schizophrenic state and couldn't decide what to do. When he did shoot, from mere feet out, the ball was blazed high and wide. At the other end Burke clobbered the Colne sub No 16 (Joseph Kouadiou). It brought uproar and a few verbals, the ref stayed calm and issued a yellow. The free-kick was cleared, another hold-up came after another foul. The liner was gobbed off at via a Colne defender, frustration over-ruling common sense, another card was brandished. The finish came soon after, it had been a dull second half but out of it I found it easy to pick the Man of the Match. Hyde's No 3 (James Burke) was supreme throughout and never missed a ball and totally blunted the blade of Colne's optimism. He read every situation, dealt with all balls, both on the ground and in the air, and when he moved forth always looked liable to cause a problem - a very outstanding effort.
FINAL THOUGHT - As a spectacle this one was, to all intents, a match like a dodgy prostate gland - the flow started well, turned to a trickle and then ended up as a drip and drab performance. This wasn't down to the teams, it was just a clash of styles and, in any sport of two sides, it frequently happens. If this one would have ended in a draw it would have been fair justice but Hyde got the lead early and defended it strongly and, had several chances to go on and secure matters throughout both halves. Colne were solid but for me just didn't have enough urgency and chomp up front. They showed good patience but this, in the end, left them little time to mount a serious back end push. Next time, I think a good dose of back-end laxatives need to be ingested so has to put an extra spring in the step and, paradoxically, put the shits up their opponents. Mind you they were up against a well drilled rear guard today who are not in second position in the league for nothing. To add, despite the game not being a thriller in the chiller we both enjoyed the day out and reckon Hyde have got a good set up going there. The chips are noteworthy, the seating area where we were absolutely spot on and the general support quite heart-warming - another ground to pop back to in the midst of all the North West Counties Matches I catch up on.
Colne were early pace setters with consistent passing and holding play keeping the home team on their guard. The front chap for the visitors, No 9 (Harry Pratt) was a particular force using good weight and balance to cause considerable consternation for the hosting rear pack. The guests won a free-kick, a brace of half attempts came before No 8 (Bradley Knox) had a dig. The shot looked goal bound but was blocked on the line which in turn led to a Hyde break. No joy came but the game was warming up nicely. Seconds later Hyde sprung into extra life and when No 10 (David Brown) knocked a ball over the top, No 11 (Luke Porritt) collected and connected with what seemed a cross cum shot. Either way the ball took a deflection and ended up buried in the net - 1 - 0 to The Tigers and if truth be told, it was against the run of play.
Hyde were now invigorated, they won a free-kick on the outside angle of the box. No 8 (Big Khamsuk) stepped up and struck to the far corner. The ball was on target, the header that came to clear was mightily important. Hyde again, No 4 (Ross Day) and Brown linking up, the latter with a thump forth that needed a good save to keep the ball at bay. The globe was booted out, the Tigers had their tails up and Khamsuk was the next to try one but his decent effort was deflected wide. From the corner came nowt, we stayed as we were. Colne rode the pressure, they came back with some tidy and efficient link up play that saw No 7 (Matthew Morgan) finalise with a low, perilous cross. Hyde dealt with the threat and duly had the next effort on goal via Brown, who wove into space and shot through a developed gap. The mitter gathered low in the meat of his carcass and from here a veritable quiet patch ensued. Colne forced the issue, a sweet pass found No 10 (Alex Curran) who drove in a low steamer. The shot was smartly saved, it just needed that extra pep in the punch. The last effort of the half came after a substitute delay when a cross for Hyde saw Brown nod on and Porritt smash the side netting. The angle was acute but I am sure the player was more than a little miffed that he didn't hit the target. Seconds later No 9 (Dominic Marie) turned on a Pygmy's tit and swung the old shank. The ball flew with pace but went over the bar. The aforementioned pygmy rubbed his sore breast and that was that, half time and an evenly balanced affair.
We stayed put for the break, we couldn't be arsed to queue for a drink so chewed some Thornton's Special Toffee whilst we nattered - ooh me arthritic jaw!
Half two started in a balanced fashion with no team dominating matters - it was a theme that was set to last and provide little in the way of nipple-perking action. Colne passed well and looked to probe (watch yer arses lads), Hyde had the first effort on goal via a Khamsuk rasper. The ball was a dipper (no not the bird of the river) and just stayed too high to trouble the keeper - it was a nice try though! The next Tiger bite was countered when Pratt muscled away and punted. The save was all too easy, very disappointing. From here the hosts reignited their desire, No 3 (James Burke) won a midfield tackle, Marie chased, collected and tried to cash in. The punt was pinged wide, from the corner sweet FA was borne - in truth it was a mess. The Red Army reacted and created a half decent period of play, but no real pressure was put on their opponents defence. Morgan found time to cross and find No 3 (Andy Hollins) - again the shot was too tame, we needed someone to just lash and hope methinks. A snuff out continued, the canvas was in need of a splash of colour and as we wound down to the finish I did wonder where, if any, tones of tension or hues of excitement would arise. At the last, the Hyde Sub No 15 (Karl Jones) squeezed in a low cross for Marie to find at his tootsies. The striker paused, seemed to be in a schizophrenic state and couldn't decide what to do. When he did shoot, from mere feet out, the ball was blazed high and wide. At the other end Burke clobbered the Colne sub No 16 (Joseph Kouadiou). It brought uproar and a few verbals, the ref stayed calm and issued a yellow. The free-kick was cleared, another hold-up came after another foul. The liner was gobbed off at via a Colne defender, frustration over-ruling common sense, another card was brandished. The finish came soon after, it had been a dull second half but out of it I found it easy to pick the Man of the Match. Hyde's No 3 (James Burke) was supreme throughout and never missed a ball and totally blunted the blade of Colne's optimism. He read every situation, dealt with all balls, both on the ground and in the air, and when he moved forth always looked liable to cause a problem - a very outstanding effort.
FINAL THOUGHT - As a spectacle this one was, to all intents, a match like a dodgy prostate gland - the flow started well, turned to a trickle and then ended up as a drip and drab performance. This wasn't down to the teams, it was just a clash of styles and, in any sport of two sides, it frequently happens. If this one would have ended in a draw it would have been fair justice but Hyde got the lead early and defended it strongly and, had several chances to go on and secure matters throughout both halves. Colne were solid but for me just didn't have enough urgency and chomp up front. They showed good patience but this, in the end, left them little time to mount a serious back end push. Next time, I think a good dose of back-end laxatives need to be ingested so has to put an extra spring in the step and, paradoxically, put the shits up their opponents. Mind you they were up against a well drilled rear guard today who are not in second position in the league for nothing. To add, despite the game not being a thriller in the chiller we both enjoyed the day out and reckon Hyde have got a good set up going there. The chips are noteworthy, the seating area where we were absolutely spot on and the general support quite heart-warming - another ground to pop back to in the midst of all the North West Counties Matches I catch up on.
Thursday, 8 February 2018
SANDBACH SQUEEZE HOME
7th February 2018 - Sandbach United 1 v 0 Cammell Laird 1907 - A long day at work and a freezing bike ride home. My wife joined me soon after for a quick bite to eat before we set out, aiming for the match between Winsford Utd v Warrington Town. We listened to the penultimate part of 'Day of the Triffids' and arrived in good time at the ground to find it in utter darkness with the car park almost empty. How odd! We set off wondering what had happened when suddenly I remembered Sandbach United were playing at home. My wife produced the phone, we duly got a postcode and switched on the SatNav app - something only used when our daughter is present as me and my good lady try to avoid this digital slavery as much as we can. A turn here, a turn there, a request of directions from a chap going in the local Co-Op and with 10 minutes to spare we entered the Sandbach Community Football Centre and enjoyed a cup of cha' and a chat with a couple of South Manchester chaps, one who was doing a bit of ground-hopping and the other tagging along to ease his head from work duties (and why not). We headed out into the night air, it wasn't as chilly as suspected and within seconds of taking up our onlooking hot-spots the two footballing factions came out to do battle.
The home bods made the early pace and a feisty tackle from a visiting player brought initial uproar. A touchpaper had been lit, a card was issued after much testosterone fuelled toss and as the verbals faded into the ether the game eventually got going. More threats came, another card needed brandishing - welcome to the Horror Show. The Lairds used this messy session as a chance to cultivate their first attack. A ball over the top caused defensive confusion for Sandbach and the shot from No 7 (Josh Maldon) was wide of the mark. A free-kick to the guests, the hosts failed to deal with another high ball, a pass came and a tap into the mesh was had - why oh why was the liner waving his flag, oh yes offside, I think it is something to do with the rules of the game. From here the home team started to gain the upper hand, 2 corners came and were cleared, the travelling pack were getting pegged back and looking for some respite. Fortunately their No 8 (Thomas Murray) was staying composed under the rising football thermals and somewhat easing the potential threat. A Sandbach corner, the Lairds broke, a tackle came and a foul was given. The free-kick came and a header was had - an easy save but a breather gained. The Shipyarders crawled back into this via sheer bloody mindedness and hard work but a goal keeping rush of blood nearly cost them as the No 1 left his line to clear but was instantly lobbed by a keen-eyed Sandbachian. It was a sharp attempt but the ball landed wide and we stayed with the score sheet bare.
From here the half ground on, there looked little chance of a breakthrough as both units played a tight game and confounded their opponents opportunities. A volley from the home teams No 11 (Jordan Davies) was hopeful but failed to trouble the mitter and then a Cammell Laird player got clobbered and more verbals ensued - it seems as though these exchanges of vehement vitriol are par for the course but all it does is hinder the flow and mar the focus - hey ho. A midfield chess match followed from which No 11 (Greg Drummond) of the Camels broke and duly fed the globe to the striding No 10 (Ben Holmes) who chose his spot and side-footed toward the target zone. From our vantage point it looked like an accurate strike but the ball went wide and Sandbach counted their blessings. This was a good finish by the away lads and we went into the break with a scoreline reflective of both teams efforts.
We had a chat to our daughter at half-time who had rung up for a chat to give us an update on her University day. It is always welcome - she be a belter. We finished our fresh cups of tea, my good lady had a bag of crisp and the second period began.
Sandbach came out fired up (had there been a rocket put up their arse at half-time, or in fact the threat of spending a night with Gail Tilsley if they didn't pull their socks up - perish the thought). The lads reacted, the vision of the soap star's pendulous teets and carp-like countenance had obviously done the trick and a break came via the whipped up Davies who was unlucky not to finish a quite repid move. The Lairds added much fluster and bluster to put holes in the Sandbach sails but moments later the pesky Davies was onto a cross but again failed to finish matters. A home injury impeded impetus, the lad involved had had a knock on the noggin, his game was over but things didn't look serious (thank goodness). When the game continued urgency was plentiful, SB corner was only just dealt with - was a goal on the cards? Davies cut in again, a growing danger this chap, one to keep a peeper on. The shot he produced was sweet, it was inches over the bar.
A hectic finish followed, it was just that chances were at a minimum. The work rate was high, when the 7 dwarves indulged in an amphetamine session lesser toil took place. No 7 (Josh Maldon) for the guests bust a gut, ran to the corner and was unlucky not to get anything for his attempted cross. His colleagues came again, they were caught on the hop with Sandbach breaking with pace. Davies supplied No 6 (Ryan Alcock) who shot and was denied by a solid save. The corner was put in, a defensive header put the ball behind for another angled kick. The globe came forth, it wasn't dealt with but Davies was still full of beans and fired through the pack. The goal we had all waited for was had, the home team had grabbed it and looked to have stolen the 3 point prize after much energetic zeal, could the Lairds respond?
A pattern was soon set for the closing period with Cammell Laird the running waters trying to find a leak in the opponents defenses whilst Sandbach were the sponge, soaking up all flow and looking to squeeze out a counter-attack. Davies was still mithering for the hosts but the visiting team found a way through with a nut on, a pass and No 16 (Charlie McInnes) having time to shoot. He pulled the trigger too quickly, the save that followed was way to easy and was really the last action of the night. Game management dictated the final minutes, matters ended and somehow Sandbach had snatched victory from what looked a bob on draw. Man of the Match for me goes to a player on the losing side though, one who was composed in the midst of madness, displayed a culture in the kick that oozed class and who, on any other night, could well have been the supplier of several goals. No 8 (Thomas Murray) stand up and take the plaudits, a fine effort and with complete focus and dedication the rewards will surely follow.
FINAL THOUGHT - Well, after much ado about something we got a game in and witnessed a tight clash that was always destined to be decided by one goal. This was a close encounter for sure, closer than the butt cheeks of Bet Lynch and harder to decipher than the handwriting of a drunken Stephen Hawking - yes, a right piss-pot that fella and a benefit fraud if you ask me. A bloody good soul though so I'll overlook these two failings. Sandbach Utd are a pacey team and have players who aren't afraid to express themselves and who readily see an opportunity in the smallest of gaps. They were held in check tonight by a Cammell Laird team who leave nothing in the changing room and keep a high level of communication going throughout so as to maintain something akin to complete organisation. The play-off spots are up for grabs in the North West Counties First Division with I reckon, 8 teams in the hunt. Would you back against these 2 units not being in the final shake-up - I certainly wouldn't!
The home bods made the early pace and a feisty tackle from a visiting player brought initial uproar. A touchpaper had been lit, a card was issued after much testosterone fuelled toss and as the verbals faded into the ether the game eventually got going. More threats came, another card needed brandishing - welcome to the Horror Show. The Lairds used this messy session as a chance to cultivate their first attack. A ball over the top caused defensive confusion for Sandbach and the shot from No 7 (Josh Maldon) was wide of the mark. A free-kick to the guests, the hosts failed to deal with another high ball, a pass came and a tap into the mesh was had - why oh why was the liner waving his flag, oh yes offside, I think it is something to do with the rules of the game. From here the home team started to gain the upper hand, 2 corners came and were cleared, the travelling pack were getting pegged back and looking for some respite. Fortunately their No 8 (Thomas Murray) was staying composed under the rising football thermals and somewhat easing the potential threat. A Sandbach corner, the Lairds broke, a tackle came and a foul was given. The free-kick came and a header was had - an easy save but a breather gained. The Shipyarders crawled back into this via sheer bloody mindedness and hard work but a goal keeping rush of blood nearly cost them as the No 1 left his line to clear but was instantly lobbed by a keen-eyed Sandbachian. It was a sharp attempt but the ball landed wide and we stayed with the score sheet bare.
From here the half ground on, there looked little chance of a breakthrough as both units played a tight game and confounded their opponents opportunities. A volley from the home teams No 11 (Jordan Davies) was hopeful but failed to trouble the mitter and then a Cammell Laird player got clobbered and more verbals ensued - it seems as though these exchanges of vehement vitriol are par for the course but all it does is hinder the flow and mar the focus - hey ho. A midfield chess match followed from which No 11 (Greg Drummond) of the Camels broke and duly fed the globe to the striding No 10 (Ben Holmes) who chose his spot and side-footed toward the target zone. From our vantage point it looked like an accurate strike but the ball went wide and Sandbach counted their blessings. This was a good finish by the away lads and we went into the break with a scoreline reflective of both teams efforts.
We had a chat to our daughter at half-time who had rung up for a chat to give us an update on her University day. It is always welcome - she be a belter. We finished our fresh cups of tea, my good lady had a bag of crisp and the second period began.
Sandbach came out fired up (had there been a rocket put up their arse at half-time, or in fact the threat of spending a night with Gail Tilsley if they didn't pull their socks up - perish the thought). The lads reacted, the vision of the soap star's pendulous teets and carp-like countenance had obviously done the trick and a break came via the whipped up Davies who was unlucky not to finish a quite repid move. The Lairds added much fluster and bluster to put holes in the Sandbach sails but moments later the pesky Davies was onto a cross but again failed to finish matters. A home injury impeded impetus, the lad involved had had a knock on the noggin, his game was over but things didn't look serious (thank goodness). When the game continued urgency was plentiful, SB corner was only just dealt with - was a goal on the cards? Davies cut in again, a growing danger this chap, one to keep a peeper on. The shot he produced was sweet, it was inches over the bar.
A hectic finish followed, it was just that chances were at a minimum. The work rate was high, when the 7 dwarves indulged in an amphetamine session lesser toil took place. No 7 (Josh Maldon) for the guests bust a gut, ran to the corner and was unlucky not to get anything for his attempted cross. His colleagues came again, they were caught on the hop with Sandbach breaking with pace. Davies supplied No 6 (Ryan Alcock) who shot and was denied by a solid save. The corner was put in, a defensive header put the ball behind for another angled kick. The globe came forth, it wasn't dealt with but Davies was still full of beans and fired through the pack. The goal we had all waited for was had, the home team had grabbed it and looked to have stolen the 3 point prize after much energetic zeal, could the Lairds respond?
A pattern was soon set for the closing period with Cammell Laird the running waters trying to find a leak in the opponents defenses whilst Sandbach were the sponge, soaking up all flow and looking to squeeze out a counter-attack. Davies was still mithering for the hosts but the visiting team found a way through with a nut on, a pass and No 16 (Charlie McInnes) having time to shoot. He pulled the trigger too quickly, the save that followed was way to easy and was really the last action of the night. Game management dictated the final minutes, matters ended and somehow Sandbach had snatched victory from what looked a bob on draw. Man of the Match for me goes to a player on the losing side though, one who was composed in the midst of madness, displayed a culture in the kick that oozed class and who, on any other night, could well have been the supplier of several goals. No 8 (Thomas Murray) stand up and take the plaudits, a fine effort and with complete focus and dedication the rewards will surely follow.
FINAL THOUGHT - Well, after much ado about something we got a game in and witnessed a tight clash that was always destined to be decided by one goal. This was a close encounter for sure, closer than the butt cheeks of Bet Lynch and harder to decipher than the handwriting of a drunken Stephen Hawking - yes, a right piss-pot that fella and a benefit fraud if you ask me. A bloody good soul though so I'll overlook these two failings. Sandbach Utd are a pacey team and have players who aren't afraid to express themselves and who readily see an opportunity in the smallest of gaps. They were held in check tonight by a Cammell Laird team who leave nothing in the changing room and keep a high level of communication going throughout so as to maintain something akin to complete organisation. The play-off spots are up for grabs in the North West Counties First Division with I reckon, 8 teams in the hunt. Would you back against these 2 units not being in the final shake-up - I certainly wouldn't!
Tuesday, 6 February 2018
THE LIONS TAN THE TIGER'S HYDE
5th February 2018 - Stockport Town 1 v 1 Hyde Utd - A new week, a new start and after a busy day of tidying up, recording wildlife, identifying lichens, exercising and sorting a few CD reviews I was back at Lambeth Grove to see the home 'erberts chance their arm against the quality of Hyde Utd. A tough test indeed and one that would need testes as big as billiard balls and hearts filled with controlled passion. I was hoping extra time would be avoided as I was back at work tomorrow and on paper it didn't seem as though this worry was justified. The Town though, on their day, play some good football and earlier in the season gave me many a thrill with some of their quality contests. Hyde Utd are of course a step up in class but this was a cup match, and that factor alone always bears seeds of doubt in the footballing noggin. I had been a bit low today, my head has the occasional dip so my good lady kept me company for the night to keep me chipper - she is a gem. We took up our chosen spots, parked the old rears and cast our eyes on the 4G arena. The 2 battalions of 11 came out, the spectacle unfolded and I described them as thus:-
The visiting squad made the early running with the first pass coming after No 10 (David Brown) cut in and let fly. The save that came via Dylan Forth was first class but a follow up shot came before the keeper had time to fully recover. Calling on panther-like reflexes the gloved protector produced an outstanding one handed stop and made sure his team didn't fall behind to the early sucker punch so many higher placed teams use to nullify lower opponents. Seconds later the ball was pumped in towards the goal again and needed a goal line clearance to stop the first strike of the night occurring. The next action came up the other end (ooh err missus) with a ball in and out and then No 3 (Izzy Miranda) crossing. The keeper rushed out, the defender got in the way and No 4 (Luke Hincks) pulled the arm of the football bandit and let fly with a speculative lob. The ball wouldn't drop in time but the effort was applaudable and could have easily borne fruit (3 cherries, a brace of lemons or a couple of plums - cor). A lull followed, a few fouls came and then from the dip in tempo Brown of The Tigers had a good effort but was once again denied by the home keeper. Hincks of the home team supplied a stunning ball next for No 7 (Ruben Abreu) to chase. The attacker worked hard to create a chance but the shoulder to shoulder contact was deemed a little too zealous and the flag was waved.
A defensive slip brought the next action, Abreu broke and won a brace of corners both of which were efficiently dealt with. Hyde Utd responded, The gangly No 7 (Karl Jones) connecting but unfortunately having too much drag on the ball which duly sent it wide of the upright. This was good solid action from one end to the other and when Stockport won a free-kick one did wonder if the breakthrough was imminent. No 9 (Ben Halfacre) sent in a low turf grazer, the keeper saved but the ball slipped loose, luckily for the netman it didn't go too far and he was able to re-grab the globe. Like a pair of harvest festival knickers - all was safely gathered in. A Stockport attack, 10 (Justin Pickering) on the wing, Halfacre meeting the resultant cross. The striker looked to have fumbled his chance but regained his balance and sweetly drove home. It was a goal against the grain, one for the underdogs and several nearby Town fans looked in need of replacement undergarments - and why not, shitting oneself with excitement isn't illegal...is it? Stockport were now like a deviant in a crowded shower stall and holding more than their own. They were certainly dragging Hyde into a hard fought scrap. Halfacre was on the crest of a wave, he got carried away and thumped a 20 yard screamer. It looked a lunatic option but man, it wasn't far off and caused a few hope-doused groans. Abreu followed up this moment with some sugar-sweet feet and nearly undid the guests guts with a cutting move - thankfully the defence recovered. A midfield mistake followed as Hyde applied a constant pressure. A long ball found the pegs of Jones who left his marker and shot from the angle - just wide! Stockport weren't submitting to Hyde's busy application and when a cross came, grazed Halfacre's head and the ball came close to doubling the home teams lead it was black and white evidence that the team from the Evo-Stik league were really in for a genuinely troublesome night. The half ended with Abreu back in for the hosts after a long mittman kick. He collected and shot firm and watched the ball fly...too high. The half ended, the action was good value, a shock was on the cards, crikey - stay tuned folks.
The break was spent nattering to the Grandad of a Stockport player, a nice fellow and keen to see his relation come off the subs bench. Fingers crossed sir. I had a piddle and indulged in a bit of Carrot Cake (I did wash my hands first) - ooh ain't cake just the Food of the Gods.
Both teams entered the fray and worked up a good lather with Hyde cultivating the first attack. A touch from Jones, No 2 (Marcus Haydock) swept in a cross but the sturdy bonse of the home No 5 (Tyler Devlin) put the ball safely behind. The ball flashed in, all heads missed it and Brown popped up at the back post to finish matters. The telling contact was lacking, the ball hit the stands, it was highly disappointing. Hyde were now making all the running, Stockport were scampering around like annoying pubic crabs in the fuzz of a hedgehog's fanny (ooh prickle-tastic). A ball over the top for the guests was followed by a close-in shot - it missed, at 1-0 we stayed. No 5 (Harry Coates) was now moving forward with increasing threat, No 9 (Matthew Beadle) tried a shot out of growing frustration - all to little effect. The Lions dug deep, No 11 (Trey Simpson) cut in, passed to Pickering who had a golden chance to double the lead, alas the shot was weaker than the arse muscles of John Inman - ooh Mr (Dis) Grace! At the opposite end of the pitch a corner was had but Stockport broke with pace. Possession was lost but Simpson tackled hard soon after and put a ball in on which Halfacre connected and fired. A block came, No 8 (Lee Constantine) followed up - the screamer went high over the horizontal. Pickering came next, he was in on goal but shied way from finalising matters - it was another chance lost, would this be later rued?
Into the back stretch, a mistimed tackle by a Stockport bod, a few desperate lunges tried to halt the growing peril but Hyde would not be denied and when Beadle kept his feet and scored the equaliser it seemed only fair and well deserved. The Stockport players looked gutted but this was a chance to show their inner steel and put their discipline on the rack. Hyde came again, a cross in, No 12 (Domic Marie) with a header over. A whistling corner for The Tigers, Beadle with a concrete connection - wide. The tension was now higher than Jimmy Somerville's voice whilst wearing a razor-filled thong, a cracking game and still up for grabs. Hincks for The Town had a late run, he tried to place his shot, the save was as simple as A, B, C. The referee had seen enough, he called for full time, 2 extra periods awaited.
Extra time was fleeting, 5 minutes each way with the first period primarily run by the visiting team with the hosts holding firm. The following 360 second segment was a battle with Stockport holding their own and maintaining more of the ball but not really doing anything with it. The final whistle came for a second time, penalties it was.
The teams gathered and picked their spot kickers, a tangible apprehension invaded the crowd, this was the moment, shit or bust, a smash and grab opportunity with the end glory seconds away. Hyde United took their first kick, smooth and into the net. Halfacre for the Town next, a striker with a good eye for goal. The kick was weak and with no angle, the goalkeeper saved with comfort - the advantage was with the Tigers. A turn of events came, No 9 and No 16 for Hyde struck their shots and where way off the mark, whereas Constantine and Pickering for Stockport remained measured and rippled the mesh with aplomb. The visiting No 12 was cool under the cosh and kept his side in it but The Town's No 14 (Rhys Webb) was equally chilled and made sure that his team had one hand on the end prize. 2 penalties left, The visitors needed to score and hope their rivals missed. Up stepped Hyde's No 8 (Big Khamsuk), held his composure and scored a lovely goal - the pressure was now on the shoulders of Ruben Abreu to earn a quite unexpected victory for a team who had run their arses ragged. He placed the ball, eyed the target area and strode forth on easy legs. The globe was projected forward and rose into the opposite corner from the keepers dive. The striker peeled away and skipped like a fairy on a promise, and why the hell not? What a grand way to cap a night of focus, hard-work and good team unity. The lads put in a stint and for their efforts got what they deserved. The Man of the Match and shining example for me was Stockport Town's No 3 (Izzy Miranda) who played with zeal, hunger and great determination. He stayed calm in defence, produced some quite eye-catching skill and was always looking to keep the game flowing and moving forward - a marvellous effort.
FINAL THOUGHT - A cup classic, a tale of magic proportions with the home side coming up smelling of roses rather than dung soaked Bramble bushes (although I do like Brambles, fine for bugs and beasties). The Lions deserved this, they protected their lead for most of the match and in truth, could have gone through without the added time and stressful penalties. That would have just been rude though and why not treat the onlookers to a thrilling shoot-out and send the people home intrigued. It goes without saying though that Hyde Utd were the better team but were just denied on the night by a unit with an insatiable hunger. I tootled off home happy with events, such is always the way as a neutral. A cuppa before bed was enjoyed as was the short story I read about a cantankerous customer at a drive-thru who got scorched alive and rose from the grave to taunt the staff. What this has to do with tonight's proceedings I don't know but there ya go, I always have had a pocketful of tangents - blah! I shall end on an overlooked positive and highlight how well Hyde Utd took their loss. No bitching, no petty arguing, no fuss - it must have been tough to take this beating but take it they did and in an admirable way. Good on em' and this bugger wishes them all the best and thanks them for contributing to a memorable match.
The visiting squad made the early running with the first pass coming after No 10 (David Brown) cut in and let fly. The save that came via Dylan Forth was first class but a follow up shot came before the keeper had time to fully recover. Calling on panther-like reflexes the gloved protector produced an outstanding one handed stop and made sure his team didn't fall behind to the early sucker punch so many higher placed teams use to nullify lower opponents. Seconds later the ball was pumped in towards the goal again and needed a goal line clearance to stop the first strike of the night occurring. The next action came up the other end (ooh err missus) with a ball in and out and then No 3 (Izzy Miranda) crossing. The keeper rushed out, the defender got in the way and No 4 (Luke Hincks) pulled the arm of the football bandit and let fly with a speculative lob. The ball wouldn't drop in time but the effort was applaudable and could have easily borne fruit (3 cherries, a brace of lemons or a couple of plums - cor). A lull followed, a few fouls came and then from the dip in tempo Brown of The Tigers had a good effort but was once again denied by the home keeper. Hincks of the home team supplied a stunning ball next for No 7 (Ruben Abreu) to chase. The attacker worked hard to create a chance but the shoulder to shoulder contact was deemed a little too zealous and the flag was waved.
A defensive slip brought the next action, Abreu broke and won a brace of corners both of which were efficiently dealt with. Hyde Utd responded, The gangly No 7 (Karl Jones) connecting but unfortunately having too much drag on the ball which duly sent it wide of the upright. This was good solid action from one end to the other and when Stockport won a free-kick one did wonder if the breakthrough was imminent. No 9 (Ben Halfacre) sent in a low turf grazer, the keeper saved but the ball slipped loose, luckily for the netman it didn't go too far and he was able to re-grab the globe. Like a pair of harvest festival knickers - all was safely gathered in. A Stockport attack, 10 (Justin Pickering) on the wing, Halfacre meeting the resultant cross. The striker looked to have fumbled his chance but regained his balance and sweetly drove home. It was a goal against the grain, one for the underdogs and several nearby Town fans looked in need of replacement undergarments - and why not, shitting oneself with excitement isn't illegal...is it? Stockport were now like a deviant in a crowded shower stall and holding more than their own. They were certainly dragging Hyde into a hard fought scrap. Halfacre was on the crest of a wave, he got carried away and thumped a 20 yard screamer. It looked a lunatic option but man, it wasn't far off and caused a few hope-doused groans. Abreu followed up this moment with some sugar-sweet feet and nearly undid the guests guts with a cutting move - thankfully the defence recovered. A midfield mistake followed as Hyde applied a constant pressure. A long ball found the pegs of Jones who left his marker and shot from the angle - just wide! Stockport weren't submitting to Hyde's busy application and when a cross came, grazed Halfacre's head and the ball came close to doubling the home teams lead it was black and white evidence that the team from the Evo-Stik league were really in for a genuinely troublesome night. The half ended with Abreu back in for the hosts after a long mittman kick. He collected and shot firm and watched the ball fly...too high. The half ended, the action was good value, a shock was on the cards, crikey - stay tuned folks.
The break was spent nattering to the Grandad of a Stockport player, a nice fellow and keen to see his relation come off the subs bench. Fingers crossed sir. I had a piddle and indulged in a bit of Carrot Cake (I did wash my hands first) - ooh ain't cake just the Food of the Gods.
Both teams entered the fray and worked up a good lather with Hyde cultivating the first attack. A touch from Jones, No 2 (Marcus Haydock) swept in a cross but the sturdy bonse of the home No 5 (Tyler Devlin) put the ball safely behind. The ball flashed in, all heads missed it and Brown popped up at the back post to finish matters. The telling contact was lacking, the ball hit the stands, it was highly disappointing. Hyde were now making all the running, Stockport were scampering around like annoying pubic crabs in the fuzz of a hedgehog's fanny (ooh prickle-tastic). A ball over the top for the guests was followed by a close-in shot - it missed, at 1-0 we stayed. No 5 (Harry Coates) was now moving forward with increasing threat, No 9 (Matthew Beadle) tried a shot out of growing frustration - all to little effect. The Lions dug deep, No 11 (Trey Simpson) cut in, passed to Pickering who had a golden chance to double the lead, alas the shot was weaker than the arse muscles of John Inman - ooh Mr (Dis) Grace! At the opposite end of the pitch a corner was had but Stockport broke with pace. Possession was lost but Simpson tackled hard soon after and put a ball in on which Halfacre connected and fired. A block came, No 8 (Lee Constantine) followed up - the screamer went high over the horizontal. Pickering came next, he was in on goal but shied way from finalising matters - it was another chance lost, would this be later rued?
Into the back stretch, a mistimed tackle by a Stockport bod, a few desperate lunges tried to halt the growing peril but Hyde would not be denied and when Beadle kept his feet and scored the equaliser it seemed only fair and well deserved. The Stockport players looked gutted but this was a chance to show their inner steel and put their discipline on the rack. Hyde came again, a cross in, No 12 (Domic Marie) with a header over. A whistling corner for The Tigers, Beadle with a concrete connection - wide. The tension was now higher than Jimmy Somerville's voice whilst wearing a razor-filled thong, a cracking game and still up for grabs. Hincks for The Town had a late run, he tried to place his shot, the save was as simple as A, B, C. The referee had seen enough, he called for full time, 2 extra periods awaited.
Extra time was fleeting, 5 minutes each way with the first period primarily run by the visiting team with the hosts holding firm. The following 360 second segment was a battle with Stockport holding their own and maintaining more of the ball but not really doing anything with it. The final whistle came for a second time, penalties it was.
The teams gathered and picked their spot kickers, a tangible apprehension invaded the crowd, this was the moment, shit or bust, a smash and grab opportunity with the end glory seconds away. Hyde United took their first kick, smooth and into the net. Halfacre for the Town next, a striker with a good eye for goal. The kick was weak and with no angle, the goalkeeper saved with comfort - the advantage was with the Tigers. A turn of events came, No 9 and No 16 for Hyde struck their shots and where way off the mark, whereas Constantine and Pickering for Stockport remained measured and rippled the mesh with aplomb. The visiting No 12 was cool under the cosh and kept his side in it but The Town's No 14 (Rhys Webb) was equally chilled and made sure that his team had one hand on the end prize. 2 penalties left, The visitors needed to score and hope their rivals missed. Up stepped Hyde's No 8 (Big Khamsuk), held his composure and scored a lovely goal - the pressure was now on the shoulders of Ruben Abreu to earn a quite unexpected victory for a team who had run their arses ragged. He placed the ball, eyed the target area and strode forth on easy legs. The globe was projected forward and rose into the opposite corner from the keepers dive. The striker peeled away and skipped like a fairy on a promise, and why the hell not? What a grand way to cap a night of focus, hard-work and good team unity. The lads put in a stint and for their efforts got what they deserved. The Man of the Match and shining example for me was Stockport Town's No 3 (Izzy Miranda) who played with zeal, hunger and great determination. He stayed calm in defence, produced some quite eye-catching skill and was always looking to keep the game flowing and moving forward - a marvellous effort.
FINAL THOUGHT - A cup classic, a tale of magic proportions with the home side coming up smelling of roses rather than dung soaked Bramble bushes (although I do like Brambles, fine for bugs and beasties). The Lions deserved this, they protected their lead for most of the match and in truth, could have gone through without the added time and stressful penalties. That would have just been rude though and why not treat the onlookers to a thrilling shoot-out and send the people home intrigued. It goes without saying though that Hyde Utd were the better team but were just denied on the night by a unit with an insatiable hunger. I tootled off home happy with events, such is always the way as a neutral. A cuppa before bed was enjoyed as was the short story I read about a cantankerous customer at a drive-thru who got scorched alive and rose from the grave to taunt the staff. What this has to do with tonight's proceedings I don't know but there ya go, I always have had a pocketful of tangents - blah! I shall end on an overlooked positive and highlight how well Hyde Utd took their loss. No bitching, no petty arguing, no fuss - it must have been tough to take this beating but take it they did and in an admirable way. Good on em' and this bugger wishes them all the best and thanks them for contributing to a memorable match.
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