WITHIN THE WEAVE OF THE WEATHER

15th January 2020 - Irlam FC 4 v 1 Maine Road - I have a confession to make, it may shock you, it may come as no surprise but the truth of matter is - 'I have a friend who has been bummed by John Kettley the Weatherman'.  There, I have revealed all, I am ashamed on behalf of my good pal but I take all the blame. I knew full well I was risking the sanctity of his ring when I encouraged him to indulge in a meteorological tumble that John promised would result in pure sexual zeniths and a change in the inclemency of our erratic climactic conditions that, in turn, would result in all future Non-League fixtures never being postponed again. Oh what a fiendish imp of the anus the weatherman is, oh what wretched agonies I go through every time I see a game fall victim to rain, wind, frost and snow and see my good friend walk with an open, awkward gait exposing a grimace on his face every time he sits down in haste.  I am the eternal guilty man who sacrificed comradeship for the love of this pure DIY game, I am the retailer of rectums who still falls victim to postponements what can one do?  But, looking on the bright side rather than the shite side, I have another game to report on here on and my bottom is all in tact, I have no real complaints and sitting down is a pleasure rather than a painful reminder of a devious butt-cheek pounding!

After some heavy downpours the previous day and many postponements, a check of the forecasting services was needed today. The crossing of the fingers was a must, we were blessed with good fortune and found a game to attend in the midst of another bleak January week.  My aforementioned chum was refusing to join me after a recent undercarriage operation that left him having to spend a couple of weeks lying on his side (I am so sorry my good man) so, I was left to stand on the touchline and view the chosen game with my good lady and a couple of other zealous 'erberts.  Both teams were as keen as ever to turn a dark night into something positive, my chocolate coins were on the hosts to run out winners, what actually happened was as thus:-

Both teams, as expected, began the game by moving the ball sharply over the glistening green with the hosts having perhaps the territorial advantage.  An early free-kick was won and the pop by No 5 (Dylan Allan-Meredith) was not far off the mark and an early warning for the ever-animated Maine Road unit.  As the visiting team warmed to the evening's task they started to play many dissecting thru-balls that, on several occasions, almost sliced the opposing defence in half and met the feet of the awaiting frontmen.  Irlam stood firm though and through hard graft built the next onslaught that saw No 9 (Jordan Southworth) have the final dig that the keeper did well to block with his quickly sprawled framework.  The resultant corner produced nowt but soon after, from another angled hoof, No 2 (Jack Lever) was just denied a shooting chance before No 8 (Callum Nicholas) had a little more time and blasted one...wide.

The Mitchells now increased the stranglehold, the visiting keeper was fortunate to survive a scare when kicking the ball against an incoming player and gratefully receiving the deflection right back into his gloved mitts.  Southworth who was the provider of the rebound and had a cracking shot moments later with the upright left in a state of quivering agitation.  Maine Road were riding some serious luck and yet remained under a very severe cosh from a team whose peckers where now definitely up.  Another corner came, the keeper palmed behind.  From the opposite angle the ball was re-delivered, the mittman now punched with a cross coming straight back that Allan-Meredith received.  A shot was instantaneous, the inside of the vertical was walloped, the ball rolled across the face of goal and was eventually cleared - two words sprang to mind to describe the Maine Road's stance - 'lucky' and 'bastards' - I think that about summed things up.

Despite riding the uncertain ass of fortune Road were still humping and pumping with good endeavour and won a couple of potentially promising free-kicks that alas gave birth to sweet bugger all.  From the midst of another rearguard bout of defiance Road's No 3 (Paul Earlam) went on a run of tantalising and effective proportions with his weaving ways covering good ground and making for a threat that was just snuffed out at the last.  Again the guests came, a delicious threaded ball found No 8 (Ben Mooney) who took one touch and side-footed towards goal.  The home keeper, who had had little to do during this first segment of cup action, was alert and up to answer the question asked, nice save fella. 

To the latter end of the opening 45 minutes and Irlam cultivated a few last pushes.  A choice cross saw No 11 (John Main) look set to strike but no contact on the globe was made and then Allan-Meredith sent in a bollock-blistering belter that flew mere inches wide.  No 10 (Jordan Icely) had a final crack, again the charmed goal remained unpenetrated and after a few end to end flurries we entered the break bare of strikes.

We stayed put for half-time and chewed the cud with John D and Mark Bennett, 2 fine gents who were enjoying this non-league lark and even verbally wandering into discussing realms of baseball and the best way to cook pickled pigs testicles.  I have a tale to tell about a buttered baseball bat and the love-globes of a Hog, I would love to relate it here but until the magistrate grants me freedom of speech again I will have to refrain - darn that Sarah Fergusson and her insistence that I was misinformed about her talking rectum.

And back to the game, the restart was lively, No 7 (Marcus Perry) for Irlam was nearly in but the keeper showed swift awareness and at the other end Mooney had a middling pop that went straight into the mitter's awaiting arms.  The Road looked to roar forth next, a surge saw No 5 (Louis Edwards) released only to round the keeper and see the ball escape his eager feet due to too much rotational impetus - it was a chance...almost.

Both teams continued to play 'on the deck' football, it was an applaudable mode of operations that was making for a fine competition - all we needed now was a goal.  As we flowed further into the game Irlam defied an attack, sprung like a Trapdoor Spider on a passing beetle and played a long ball that caused total confusion for the defending pack.  The keeper came, a rear bod hesitated, the keeper looked lost, Perry for Irlam gratefully received and rolled the ball home to snatch the all important opening goal in the most ludicrous of fashions.  The Road looked shell-shocked and when Main for the hosts bent one to the top corner they seemed more than a little relieved to see the globe just have a little too much elevation. From here we went straight down the other end of the pitch via a long hoof.  The keeper collected, deciding to indulge in a spot of pissing about, duly lost possession and saw No 9 (Jack Coop) step up to grab an equaliser of 'You've Been Framed' standards.  Betty Bloop had exposed her dumplings of disaster, would she be brave enough to expose her undercarriage of success - ooh and on such a cold night too.

The game now became hectic, a handball claim was had for the hosts, the referee was having none of it, Coop for the guests was threaded through and denied by a last ditch tackle and then after more dawdling in defence by Irlam a drilled shot came that the No 1 (Lee White) did mighty well to save.  As things went back and forth quicker than the pendulous gonads of a star-jumping Orangutan Irlam advanced with No 15 (Mwiya Malumo) the apical component and dashing towards goal.  The player remained composed despite persistent marking, he made an inch of space, eyed a snippet of goal and with a cute flick of the foot put the ball beyond the keepers reach.  It was a quality soaked strike, the sign of a quick-thinking player, the indication of a live-wire danger to keep an eye on.  Seconds after the re-start and the same hungry bod nearly doubled his tally with a tasty strike that just failed to drop below the bar - now that would have been just greedy.

The visiting team were now calling on the reserve tanks of fuel, a lovely ball found No 2 (Ryan Smith) who displayed some neat feet but failed to pull the trigger when the chance was had.  Soon after the same player was clattered whilst carrying out some defensive work, Irlam played on, a ball was provided that tempted the keeper, he lunged for the ball and collided with a poaching frontman, the outcome - penalty!  After a short delay No 6 (Karl Cassell) stepped up and stroked the ball home with little fuss, somehow, after such a close encounter the scoreline was now 3 - 1.

With only a few minutes left on the clock Irlam remained in control and won a corner from nothing.  With seconds to go the ball entered the box, Cassell rose and nutted home to complete his brace and finalise an end result that failed to tell the whole tale of what went on.   The referee blew his oral organ (now legal I hear) and I was left to consider the Man of the Match which I duly did and gave the nod to Irlam's hard-working, highly competitive but always fair and veritable 'Mrs Mop' No 3 (Sam Bolton).  He cleaned up matters when required and played with a solid head down focus, I think he deserved the nod given.

After farewells we pootled off home, I noted that the aforementioned John D was giving Mark Bennett a lift home - I suspect there may be babies on the way or is my wicked imagination being a little too off kilter?  Either way, if one of the gents ends up tubbed up, I hope the birthing process is an easy one, there is nothing worse than having a sprog pop out of your oriental eye!

FINAL THOUGHT - 2 good teams were on show tonight, 2 teams who persist in playing the game the right way and 2 teams who always give good value for money and a fine account of themselves.  The end result, on paper, was cruel and kind with the losing side worthy of a more generous outcome and Irlam worthy of the win but perhaps not in such a suggestive manner.   Of late Maine Road have been holding more than their own and making good strides in the First Division South and, I hope will continue to pick up points and maybe finish in the top 6 before the campaign is done.  A tough ask but when the team are on it, they are a match for anyone in the division.  Irlam have just come through a horrible spell after riding high in the upper reaches of the premier league.  They are now sitting in 7th position, 11 points behind the automatic promotion slots with many good teams in the mix.  I think a move up is a long shot now but one never knows.   Again, when on their A game, they can compete with the best, it is now a question of consistency and some good old fashioned luck.  In the meantime though, the team are still in this Manchester Premier Cup and will now play FC United away in the semi-finals.  They will make a few bob out of that contest and will go in as underdogs, write them off at your peril and let us see what transpires - you never know, their name could be on the trophy and a real upset on the cards - here's hoping!

URGENCY OVERRIDES HESITANCY

11th January 2020 - Greenalls Padgate St Oswalds 1 v 4 Middlewich Town - Yet again myself and my lovely wife parachuted down into the wonderful realms of the Cheshire League to see two Premier placed stalwarts battle it out for some precious mid-season points.   The first week back at work after the holiday period had been completed, we wound down on the Friday night with another viewing of 'The Creature From The Black Lagoon' which was as good as we remembered it and after a decent night's sleep we woke up in far better condition than the aforementioned Gill-Man.  I once lived next door to a woman who resembled this underwater beast, she led a quiet life and it was a sad day when she was found dead in a swimming pool with a bra-full of sea-weed and a posterior encrusted by 4 species of Barnacle.  Before the coroner got near the corpse I nipped round to her abode and tried to chisel off some of the barnacles to try and identify and record on a natural history site - alas the clinging molluscs refused to be removed and I lost the chisel inside her rear orifice - weeks later the coroner's verdict was 'death by misadventure' - I wondered what the neighbours thought!

Arriving at the ground after another morn of doofing duties we made sure we were wrapped up well and had a brolly in the car just in case the forecast shabby weather got a trifle out of hand.  There were no brews available at the ground so after buying a can of pop from the bar myself and my good lady eventually picked a favoured viewing point.   There is something so earthy, tangibly real and welcoming at these Cheshire League grounds, there be something DIY in the air and that is always a winning ingredient with this old punk bastard, I could have thrashed a warm drink though.

At 2pm the first ham shank was swung and the initial studded boot got the inflated orb rotating.  The start to the game was lively, No 10 (Jimmy Daniels) for the hosts had an early pop that was deflected wide with the corner decent enough but just a little too high for the rising craniums.  The same team were soon flooding forth again, the sequence was smooth and very easy on the peepers, the tame cross by no 7 (Sol Delaney) didn't do matters justice.  A break duly followed, Middlewich were looking to shatter the host's early hopes but No 9 (Steven Hughes), who was at the helm of the move, was denied at the last by a top drawer tackle.

We travelled further into the game, the Padgate pack won a corner which Daniels received at the back post but could only bumble wide.  Again Middlewich broke, a wonderball found the awaiting No 21 (Callum Priestley) who found himself with only the keeper to beat.  The striker assessed his chances and struck the globe, the home No 1 (Nathan Butler) sprawled well and made a more than adequate save.  Soon after the guests came once more, the home team were guilty of lackadaisical defending, the ball eventually fell to the feet of the eternally animated No 8 (Harry Short) who moved outward, shot to the opposite corner and bagged the first, all important goal, of the game.

Despite now being a goal behind the home team continued to play a good brand of football only let down when any loose ball was hesitated over whereas the Middlewich lads were always laden with urgency and won most 50/50 contests.  A Sparrowhawk flew overhead, ready to pounce, below we needed the resident pack to swoop in for the kill pretty soon before the visitors took flight and shat on their rising ambitions.  Another home corner came, No 6 (Josh Hayes) at the back post brought out the best of the mitter then the travelling Hughes had a chance to double the lead at the other end of the park but got too hot under the collar and thumped way over.

This was a captivating game with an open mode of hoofing played by both teams and a certain freedom given to all players to express themselves.  The Greenalls gang poured forward and won a free kick.  The gratis dig was hit by No 8 (Tom Kirkpatrick) whose shot was mere inches over the horizontal and then, against the flow once more, the guest No 7 (Oliver McDonough) had the ball out wide, made a short dash and delivered. The end result of this quick counter was a close-in nut home by Hughes who did what he was required to do and put a little bit of scoreline distance between the two competing teams. 

A late brace of corners for The Witches saw all cast spells fizzle with 2 further shots had, both straight at the keeper and allowing the hosts to go into the break just 2 behind.

There was no tea available for half-time and no food, we had to share a bag of crisp and munch a few yoghurt coated hazelnuts - they were delicious but a warm brew would have been readily enjoyed - hey ho, life is tough at some of these clubs, they do need to get things sorted though and make a little bit of brass to help the cause.

Half-two, the Greenalls began in eager style but were caught on the hop as Middlewich's No 10 (Chris Lunn) and Priestley linked up, with the latter player nudging the ball just off target.  The trailing team continued to press and strive to get back into this, just the end composure and conviction was lacking, a few frustrated voices were renting the murky air whilst Priestly for the guests blazed one across goal and then played another ball in that was touched back for No 4 (Geoff Basford) to hammer over.  At the opposite end, No 9 (Przeymslaw Staniszowski) emerged from the tackling mush and released a shot the keeper could only push behind for an angled kick.  The ball from the corner was shabby and from here a terse session of dislocated dabbling ensued, akin to a brittle-boned man trying to arouse himself whilst watching a flickering beta-max tape of 'Perspiring Pamela's Trip To Tesco's' - ooh what a film and who knew that a packet of spam could be so erotic.

Back and forth the ball went and then, Greenalls won possession out wide, a dazzling good cross came and there, ready and willing, was No 12 (Ben McWilliams) who nutted home and cut the deficit clean in half - now this was interesting!  The urgency levels now rose, the GPSO squad began to push harder than a Heinz 57 with a belly full of wriggling whelps.  All that was needed was a certain sangfroid when in a position of pregnant potential and the opportunity to give birth to a goal taken with utter coolness and self-command. 

As the skies began to darken, the local sparrows and starlings had a goodnight natter and the game became a very attritional affair.  We entered the final stretch still in a state of uncertainty regarding the final outcome.  Middlewich worked hard and still exhibited a certain sharpness with their McDonough almost in but denied by a good goal-keeping punch.  After a short break for an injury the ball got rolling again and Middlewich caught their opponents napping.  One pass, a touch on and top scoring machine Hughes tapped home and surely confirmed all three points for his side.  That looked to be that, McDonough had a low shot wide before the final whistle and then, just before the closure the 2 goal hero gathered the ball around the edge of the box, considered his chances for a hat-trick and duly walloped the ball home into the top corner to finalise matters on a choice note and treat us all to the best goal of the game.  Within seconds the referee brought closure to the game, the result was perhaps a little cruel for the losers, a trifle kind for the winners but there ya go, the right team won but it was closer than what one would deem after seeing the result on paper.  Man of the Match goes to Middlewich Town's No 7 (Oliver McDonagh) who exemplified the difference between the two teams by playing with a relentless urge, being quick to react to any loose balls (oooh the vulgar bugger) and for running his arse off many times for what most would consider, lost causes.  Keep the spirit mate, it certainly helped your side no end today.

FINAL THOUGHTS - After the match we chatted to Nathan Morris the Middlewich Town secretary and compared notes. We both agreed the game was close and that it was the visitors sharpness and clinical finishing that was the difference.  In each and every department they did enough without overcomplicating matters or going for ludicrous glory.  It was an efficient job done today, Middlewich are a good working unit and over the last 2 weeks I have seen them dig in and come out on top of a couple of competitive matches - all they need to do is just to keep this momentum going for as long as possible - by heck, it is easier said than done.   Greenalls Padgate St Oswalds are just not getting the run of the ball, lacking a lucky break or two and, on what I witnessed today are just a few tweaks away from making their escape from the lower clutches of the league.  A post match chat with their joint manager Andy Dawson revealed that they have had so many matches go the wrong way this season after throwing away numerous chances and giving the opposition too many gifts.  I think the key is as stated in the title of this report and the team just need to be quickest to all stray balls and composed yet urgent when going forward with a belief that the season can be turned around.  I'll stick my neck out and state that the home team will hit a winning streak soon, watch this space and if ya get chance visit both these clubs as soon as - it is DIY and helping them along is what it is all about.

THE CREAM RISES

7th January 2020 - 1874 Northwich 3 v 0 Cheadle Heath Nomads -The 2nd round of the Cheshire Senior Cup was here, the home team were from the NWC Premier League, the guests from Division One South.  The hosts are on a delicious roll and destined to move up to the next level, the guests have currently hit a patch stickier than the hands of Liberace after receiving his latest mail order copy of 'Anal Internationale'.  Predictions as to the outcome of this game were surely only to be made one way - the question is - would there be a sincere whooping witnessed, a match that would show the guests to be made of sterner stuff than the statistical papers suggested or a shock bigger than the one received by Hilda Ogden after finding out that Eddie Yates was carrying Fred Gee's baby (I apologise, I don't know where that slanderous remark came from). 

After the first day back at work following the holiday break myself and my eternally good lady needed a spirit lifter to keep us hopeful.  I have a soft spot for the 74 set-up, what they do they do mighty well but my most local team is the Nomads and they have a lovely set of folk involved and are always accommodating so, as per, I was split down the middle.  Tis best to stay neutral though, one can be more lucid in the end report (he says hopefully) and avoid any maniacal tribalistic tendencies.  The last time I did anything tribal was when I hung around with a gang of cannibals in Botswana and ended up with a dose of the shits after indulging in an elbow and testicle sandwich and a savoury labia and armpit pie - very tasty it was but the mess made afterwards was not for the faint-hearted - ooh it were nasty.

So, after arriving at the ground, all safe and sound, we had a brew, chatted to some good folk of which there were a few and then parked our arses on a chosen pew (poetry hey - I should invoice the lot of ya for reading such highbrow weavings) and watched the following encounter unfold.

The first corner of the game came soon after the ball got rotating with the hosts the recipients and playing things short allowing their No 11 (Lee Knight) to thump one first time over the bar - it was worth a try.  The Nomadic bunch soon recovered and had a period of good steady pressure with No 9 (Richard Tindall) eternally in the mix and showing one or two tidy touches.  The first serious surge for the guests came, No 2 (Craig Coates) knocked forth a precise ball that started the move, No 8 (Daniel Browne) provided the end shot that forced the home No 1 (Tony Aghayere) to produce an above standard save.  This was an intriguing encounter thus far with no real advantage had for either team.  The 74 mob cultivated the next onslaught, the ball went up, two shabby headers by the Nomads helped propel the ball further into trouble but thankfully the guest No 5 (Luke Taylor) read the situation and put in a strike-stopping tackle - well played that man!

As things remained touch and go the hosts put together a fluent move that the connoisseurs would have surely been salivating over.  2 swift and razor-sharp passes were followed by a laser-lit cross with Knight there to bury the ball and break this seemingly stubborn stranglehold.  The touch however was far from convincing and the ball was knocked wide - it was, in truth, a howling miss best archived in the cabinet of 'well-forgotten'.  The home team soon advanced again, some keen probing saw No 3 (Jack Tinning) finalise proceedings with a look, a short dart and a shot that went straight into the keepers midriff - the first goal was surely just around the corner!

The hosts were now turning the screw, they eventually found the back of the net but an offside decision doused rising emotions of joy and then No 10 (Callum Gardner) was released and looked set to finish but the guest No 1 (Aaron Tyrer) was down quicker than a corn-inspecting foot doctor and saved in good style.  The tide kept flowing one way, a free-kick looked to be much needed respite but was terribly mis-kicked.  The resident ranks regained possession, Knight advanced, placed a shot that was destined to sneak in the far post.  A defender got in the way, the deflection was wicked to say the least and the ball ended up in the net anyway - it had been coming, now the onus was on Cheadle Heath Nomads to get back into this one.

The game continued with much gusto, 74 found the net again after another cruel deflection, the goal was ruled out but then, in the flick of a tadpoles tail, the home team wriggled a way through once more with No 8 (Matthew Woolley) taking on the role of pornstar and quivering the upright with a right old sizzler.  The return shot came via Knight with a top notch save putting the ball behind for a corner which, as it turns out, was hoofed with too much momentum.

The half now began to wind down, the guests dug deep, a handball claim was waved away, a corner duly earned.   The delivery from the angle was flicked on, No 6 (Joe Hare) connected after the ball was chested down.  There was only a foot or so between the globe and tootsie contact and the back of the net - how on earth did the player manage to blaze one way over the bar - cor blimey guv-nor, that was some miss.  Again the travellers came, a free-kick found the hairless dome of No 8 (Daniel Browne) whose effort looked to be travelling right to the far corner of the mesh - somehow it drifted shy of the vertical - I was as surprised as anyone!  Before the break we had one last talking point when a Northwich free-kick was drilled toward goal, hit a Nomadic bonse and flew into the net.  It seemed like the second strike of the night, the referee gave an offside decision - was he in possession of a new rule book no-one else knew about - hey ho, 1 - 0 at the break it was.

Me and the good lady stayed put for the interval, chatted with a few good eggs and shared some ginger cordial.  We also had some Revels but due to wearing gloves it was well into the second half before we managed to open them - oh isn't life a trial. 

The game soon recommenced, the impetus moved back and forth like a rubber man's buttocks on a sexual oscillator (no, I don't know what one is either).  The Nomad's No 11 (Kyle Foley) fired straight at the keeper who punched well and as the guests pushed on once more they were caught with their kecks around their ankles and could only watch as No 7 (Sam Hind) galloped away and put in a mouth-watering cross.  The globe refused to wait for an attacker though and the ball drifted out of the danger zone and allowed the Cheadle chaps to breathe a welcome sigh of relief.

As the trailing pack had the better of things the hosts had to dig in and earn a very toughened crust.  They did just that with their No 6 (Nathan Okome) starting a reactive move of such a scintillating standard that several home supporters were seen to be dipping certain aroused parts in kindly provided buckets of bromide.  3 passes came in double quick time, a cross followed, Hind popped up to certainly double the lead, once again Tyrer was quick to react and put in a fantastic save - a wonderful moment indeed.

The 1874 squad now mounted some serious mither, Okome was at the end of one move, the shot spot on, the save of outstanding merit - the keeper was having a blinder that was for sure.  Free-kicks and corners came, the Nomads managed to survive until Gardner received in what looked to be a quite innocuous position.  He was allowed a mere snippet of space, swung the shank with sincerity and curled a beauty right into the top corner.   Despite all the defensive endeavor and goalkeeping brilliance of the guests there was very little they could do about this one only suck it up and kick back - 2 - 0 - a real kick in the gonads if ever I saw one.

Soon after the same wave crashed against the same rock, Cheadle Heath Nomads were now on the back foot, one moment they defended well, the next things went awry, time was generously given to the opponents. Hind provided the cross, Knight slid in at the back post and the third goal was had - I think it was safe to say, that was indeed...that!

Substitutes came each way, 1874 Northwich finished the game with good measure and cool control despite the opposing team still huffing and puffing and striving to get a consolation.  Browne for the visitors went on a rectal rupturing run only to earn a corner that was snuffed out and then, with many tired players on the pitch, the referee decided to call a halt to proceedings and duly vibrated his pea (the unlawful git).  Man of the Match goes to 1874 Northwich's No 6 (Nathan Okome) for being a well-drilled and considered player who put in a huge stint, played with a controlled tempo and produced many sweet touches that led to so much potential - a very good player indeed who knows his footballing onions and is always liable to make the opposing team's eyes water in admiration.  

After farewells we roamed homeward, another good visit had watching a team on form do the business and a team on a sticky run show that a corner is soon to be turned - here's hoping!

FINAL THOUGHT - On paper, prior to the game, this looked like an easy home win, at the end of the night the result looked to reflect this but it wasn't a true reflection of what transpired.  Although Cheadle Heath Nomads are on shitty run they had many positives to consider tonight that duly highlighted where they are doing well and where they are lacking.  From a personal standpoint the team have the right battling attitude and give a good account of themselves as far as effort goes but, and tis a very big and questioning but, they are lacking in composure when the time calls, they seemed to always flounder at the last when building with much promise and options, when in a position of threat, always seem limited.  I feel 2 reliable frontmen need a constant buzzing satellite player around them and immediate midfield assistance to make the most of goal scoring chances with an extra confidence at the last a veritable must.  It is a mere minimal change perhaps, it could reap big rewards.  1874 Northwich are at the top of the North West Counties tree, they deserve to be and the reason why this is is, in truth, quite simple.   They have a pack of players who get on with the job and even when under pressure don't get on each others cases and play with a rigid disciplined style built on a game of quick passing and incessant on and off the ball running.  They are a pleasure to watch, have an attitude to applaud and, if they stick to this well-drilled ethos will certainly hold their own when moving up to the next tier.  The whole set up is welcoming and one rarely witnesses a duff game.  We are certainly fans of the whole shebang and even when they progress away from these great North West Counties leagues, we shall still pop in and have a gander - it would be rude not to.

MID-TABLE MIDDLEWICH PUSH ON

4th January 2020 - Middlewich Town 3 v 1 Egerton FC - I met the secretary of Middlewich Town after leading a couple of Fungal walks at Arley Hall, a place where that busy doofing bod earns his crust.  We had a chat, I promised to pay Middlewich Town FC a visit and, I reckon, we will repeat this day out a few more times over several years - why not indeed.  Today we had an early birding and fungal walk at Astbury Mere where we saw a few decent things but, unlike last time, no humping canines.  We indulged in tea and toast to, collected a few shrooms for under the scope and then headed to the chosen ground of the day.  It goes without saying that upon arrival we had a catch up with Nathan the Secretary who kindly provided us with teamsheets and then we indulged in chips and tea to keep us ticking through the next 90 minutes or so.  The ground has a decent set up, a raised seating area is well sheltered but we opted for the opposite side of the ground to avoid the solar glare and, with a few bird sightings, more fungal oddities and the odd flower in bloom, this is how the game of expected football unfolded.

The opening humps and bumps came and Egerton finally contributed something akin to an onslaught that was in response to a Middlewich foray forward.  The ball came over the top, No 10 (Doug Pringle) flicked on with his a willing bonse and No 11 (Tom Miller) sent in a punt that was deflected wide.  The corner had about as much threat as a Jack Pike with its teeth extracted - it sucked.  In return to this minor scare the hosts had a free-kick that No 22 (Rory Gorton) wellied into the wall.  Soon after the same team flowed like expelled ale from a the nob of a 20 stone alcoholic.  No 5 (Jack Weedall) and No 8 (Harry Short) were crucial components but the end result was a rather flustered finish with no splash of success.

After some intense battling the home ranks won a brace of corners.  The first saw the rear ranks defend like excitable, disorganised buzz-bombs, the second ended with a  low drilling shot from No 10 (Chris Lunn) that strayed off target.  The game remained highly competitive, the home team continued to just hold the reins, they attacked once more and this time were halted in their tracks by two defensive headers via the hard-working Pringle, he was certainly putting himself around.  Short flowed forth next with a good collect and dash that fed No 7 (Oliver McDonough).  A shot came, another corner was borne and delivered to the back stick were No 18 (Charlie Hatton) put his attempt over the horizontal.

The first goal was still there to be grabbed, both teams were as tight as a navel-knot, there was no sign of anything coming undone anytime soon.  Suddenly the livewire that was Pringle gathered and darted.  The striker only had eyes for goal, he made his effort but was denied by a prostrate keeper whose pins did enough to send the ball away from goal.  As the half went into the dying embers Middlewich earned a free-kick and a corner.  The first was easily quashed, the second ended with a shot over by No 4 (Geoff Basford) - and that was that - ooh heck, a bare-ball bullet was on the cards!

We just had a wander around the pitch for half-time and examined a few flowers in bloom.  Groundsel; Red Dead Nettle; Wavy Bittercress; Shepherd's Purse; Common Mouse Ear; Pineappleweed and Common Field Speedwell were the pitch-side growths with several birds noted for good measure.  I had a piddle at the side of a Laurel Bush, no doubt when I return to the ground the golden-watered patch will be heaving with rare exotic herbs and oversized stinkhorns - I never underestimate the power of the piss.

The second period began with a stunning run made by the impish wriggler labelled as No 15 (Ellis Graham) who rode a determined tackle and was mighty unlucky to see his effort on goal just trickle wide.  The next pop came via the guests again.  Pringle hit a free-kick, in truth I think I could have got closer whilst wearing a pair of flippers and a back-to-front diving helmet - it was a poor effort.  Middlewich tried their best to grab a goal, at the apex of every move things were rushed and going too easily astray - a few bods were venting their frustrations until No 9 (Steven Hughes) found a bit is space out wide and delivered a low ball across the face of goal - somehow the assassin's touch never came, hopes were rising however.

The next eye-snagging passage of play came for the visitors, Pringle and Graham linked up, No 9 (Lee Hendley) released a blisterer, the save by the home No 1 (Charles Masters) was more than applaudable - well played that man.  The man between the sticks had little else to do when the resultant corner was wasted and Middlewich cleared the decks.  Eventually the probing Town earned a free-kick that Short delivered with decent accuracy.  All heads rose, the globe went up and came down, Lunn was on hand to untidily bumble the ball over the line and grab that deadlock breaking nugget - 1 -0 to the hosts, this game though was far from done.

Further into the mush of the matter we went, from a Middlewich corner the visitors raced away, Hendley galloped like a man with a bad dose of the tom-tits and provided a fine-cross that Pringle was there to pounce on.  Weedall however timed his rearguard tackle to perfection and made sure the chance went no further. 

Substitutions came each way, Egerton won a thrown in which was duly launched, nutted on and lashed into the back of the net by a zealous Pringle.  The home team looked rather stunned but soon got stuck back in to the action with Hughes turning and shooting only to see the keeper gather without too much concern.  As the resident ranks pushed, the opposing No 5 (Rob Spilsbury) gathered deep and set about making good ground before eventually feeding the eternally willing Pringle.  The keeper was all that stood between the striker and success, the shot was rushed and reckless, over the sphere flew.

The closing segment of the game brought great heave-ho from either side in a game of attrition and small differences.  A brace of shots flew towards the Egerton goal with various defensive body parts clattered and then another surge saw a laser-like shot fly at the keeper who duly spilled.  Hughes nipped in, toed the ball to the awaiting No 21 (Callum Priestley) who gratefully nudged home and brought great joy for himself, his colleagues and the bench.  This looked a critical moment, Egerton now bust a gut, they were caught on the hop with Middlewich breaking and a penalty shout renting the air.  The referee was not interested until he noted his liner's pennant.  After a quick Tête à Tête the bonus-boot spot was indicated and up stepped Hughes to sweetly hammer the final nail in the trailing teams coffin.

A few minutes later and we were done and dusted.  The players left the pitch, I contemplated the Man of the Match and went for the highly efficient, composed and reliable Middlewich Town No 5 (Jack Weedall), a very eye-catching player who got on with matters in a self-confident and assured manner - you can't beat those who do things quietly and with good authority - nice one.  

FINAL THOUGHT - Egerton are second bottom, look to be in deep trouble and yet, on today's evidence, the league position is nothing less than a stinking lie - the team are better than what the table says and I reckon there will be a slow ascent had over the next couple of months.  The key is just adding a little more width to the set up, keeping things simple and forward moving and, most importantly, when the ball is being moved forth, making sure players get up and offer support and options - task set.  Middlewich have great variation in their team, can alter their style when the need arises and, contain some real match winning elements that should see them add many more wins to the tally before the campaign is done.  There is a strong vein from front to back, the only facet I would work on is composure on the ball and the end decision making.  A few times today threat was had, the ball rushed, attacks set about, the killer ball done with too much haste - all it needs is a foot on the ball, a look and a picked pass - the rewards could be so much greater but hey, tis easier said than done and these are only honest observations from a keen touchline onlooker.  So, any sortie into The Cheshire League, we have a few more lined up, both these teams will get extra viewings, they are very deserved of the support.  

RAM-RAIDERS

1st January 2020 - Trafford FC 1 v 2 Ramsbotton United - A new start, a new year and on the first day of this annual cycle a new football ground to visit.  After a usual morn of tidying, exercising and sorting out many tasks (as per) with 'On The Buses' on for good measure, I got dressed and strolled down to the train station, counted a bit of wildlife and caught a clanking passenger carrying tube to Manchester Oxford Road and then another to Urmston.  After a 20+ minute walk I was at the ground in good time and made sure I got an early brew in with a Hot-Dog escort that slipped down the gullet like a blind mega-worm into the feeding orifice of a ravenous filth-hawk.  It would be good to start the year with a goal glut especially having been starved of net-busting action at the latter end of 2019, in fact the only net-busting action I witnessed was to my next door neighbours string-vest after he went on a Mince Pie bender - he started the festive period at 11st 4lb, he finished it at a whopping 20st 8lb and with a hefty bout of constipation - luckily his good lady saw this potential blockage of the bowl and brought him a new set of rectal spoons for Christmas as well as a robust block of Fanny Craddock's Sweating Butter - what a thoughtful lass.

And back to the game, this looked like a contest all set up for a score draw, I was adventurous in my pre-game prediction and went for 2 -2, I was on my lonesome today, I fuckin' knew that Anne Widdecombe ball-Type Deodorant I got for Christmas was no good, thankfully my mate John D was collared as was an old mucker of mine known as Gassy and his good lady.  We all took up our positions and with the game kicking off in grey, mid-winter perfection we watched matters unfold with the usual eagerness.

The first team to gain any semblance of ascendancy was the guests who worked the ball well and stroked it over the well-kept surface hoping to find that all important gap.  No 9 (Reuben Jerome) had the first dig, the defending was rock solid and the hosts continued to stutter and splutter and offer has much bite as a toothless Albert Steptoe.  The away team soon progressed again, No 2 (Reece Fishwick) surged into the box like a stickleback with a whizzed up anal-fin working overtime (it happens).  No 11 (Nic Evangelinos) was in the right place at the right time and slapped home with steady aplomb although the keeper was unlucky not to make the save.

From here Trafford had to suck on the marrow of deficit and work darn hard as Ramsbottom ruled the roost with quick, mobile football.  No 10 (Josh Hmami) was at the important end of the next move, he found space close in, looked to have a chance to double the lead but was denied by a superb last ditch tackle.  Trafford eventually grew into the game like a fat man into a pair of rather inflated under-duds.  Having said this Ramsbottom won a free-kick next with the ball neatly delivered and headed on goal, the save was solid enough though and after Evangelinos lashed one way over and destroyed the local Magpie nest Trafford started to have a bit more joy up front.

A long ball came for the hosts next, it nearly caught the Rammy keeper out when he missed the bounce.  It is an understatement to say the No 1 (Tom Stewart) looked mighty relieved to see the globe trickle past his upright - ooh the lucky blighter.  Trafford came again, No 2 (Jake Kenny) put in a sweet cross, No 10 (Lewis Walters) put crust on sphere, the keeper however saved with little fuss.  Walters was released minutes later, he chose to tumble rather than dash on, he got a gratis boot for his troubles. No 9 (Jordan Johnson) took command of the situation, the punt at goal was of good pace and accuracy.  The keeper reached high and tipped over, the referee deemed it to have come off the horizontal - myself and many others were convinced that the man in black needed his eyes testing.  A couple of hoofings later and it was time for the break and the man with the whistle was given a white stick and semi-aroused dog and duly found his way to his changing room..

We stayed put during the interval whilst my mate Gassy rested his legs.  It seems he can no longer stand for any great length of time after trying to go around the coast of Britain on an electric pogo-stick,   The juddering and pinging not only ruptured his ringpiece and destroyed his testicular arrangement but totally ruined the circulation of his lower limbs and caved in several major arteries.  His good lady kept him company whilst myself and John D chatted about a variety of subjects including detective novels, recent non-league developments and the satanic properties of Ronnie Corbett's penis.   Before things became too profound the teams came back out and we 4 onlookers were back in position.

Ramsbottom started the second half brightly, No 3 (Joel Amado) for Trafford was lucky to escape some pressure when he kicked fresh air and the ball was eventually dealt with and then, from a Rammy Free-kick, the resident pack broke with high impetus, Walters played a pass that was followed by a cross to No 11 (Darius Palma) who was in acres of space and just had the mittman to beat.  The shot came after a brief pause, how on earth the side-netting was struck instead of the inside of the goal is still beyond me - a truly abysmal miss.

Trafford emerged next from a sticky patch, No 15 (Sam Grimshaw) posted a sizzling cross, the incoming striker was missed, the drill back towards goal went wide but this was better and making the visiting team think a little deeper.  Johnson had a close-in header next, the guest mitter kept his peepers on the ball and saved well.  Grimshaw was used several times more, a shot was flashed wide, several crosses went to waste and at last Ramsbottom United managed to cultivate a few onslaughts of their own.  No 12 (Daniel Naidole) blitzed one over the bar and then a very pleasing move was had, No 8 (Jamie Rother) finished matters with a cheeky shot that was unfortunate to hit the crossbar.  

Into the last 20 we went, Ramsbottom were eager and pushing the ball with purpose.   They advanced into the danger zone, Evangelinos received, exposed some tricky feet and picked out a pearler into the top corner of the goal - the lead was doubled, it seemed to big of a mountain for the hosts to conquer.  Hmami could have added a third minutes later but the keeper's sprawling carcass did enough and then, as we entered a snifter of extra time Trafford gave one last push.  Ramsbottom sat deep, the ball fell to the feet of the Trafford No 14 (Max Hazeldine) who wasted no time in sending forth a great steamer that found the net and was designated as the best strike of the game.  We seemed set for a grandstand finish, Trafford won one last free kick from the corner, the ball came, the danger was dealt with, the referee said enough was enough - 1 - 2 it was.  Man of the Match goes to Ramsbottom United's No 2 (Reece Fishwick) for keeping his eyes on the ball, controlling his own given area, consistently snuffing out danger and always seeking the best option and more often than not...finding it.  Keep up the sound work man!

FINAL THOUGHTS - 'Of Human Bondage', 'Great Expectations', 'Tess of the D'Urbervilles and even 'Rustler - The Rectal Special' are all consider classics of their genre, the game between these two teams may be written about but it was a long way of earning such a meritorious title.  It was a hard-fought, well-balanced game but no team really shone and in many ways a clash of styles negated matters and made for a middling mush from which the right team emerged victorious.  Ramsbotton United have been on a roll of late, they are better than what they displayed today, (my mate Gassy assures me of this) and have many solid players in their midst that could just help them make the promotional grade.  Sometimes, like Quasimodo dropping a £5 jackpot on a retro Bar Fruit Nudger, you gotta win ugly, I think Ramsbottom emphasised this point today, next time though, I want more.   Trafford FC have a good set up, the ground, the facilities and the ambience, they just need a little more 'oomph' on the pitch.  As a neutral I seemed to sense a team out of sorts and just not ticking over with any conviction.  In their ranks they have some real eye-snagging players - I thought No 5 (Sam Egerton) put in a solid stint and Walters up front is surely going to find many goals throughout the rest of the season.  The key now is to get back to basics and remember how they started the season and what their most effective assets are.  I will be back here, it was a good jaunt out, even using public transport.  Once again, I will be expectant of more - I am the ever-eternal greedy non-league bastard - and there ain't nowt wrong with that!