PLUNDERING OLD UN'S

2nd August 2025 - Fulwood Amateurs 1 v 4 Holker Old Boys - Another hectic week had been and gone. The CD reviews were up to speed, all nature records were online and recorded, work was done and it was time to have a good head clearing weekend.  We set off early today, parked up at Haslam Park and went to a nearby cafe for a good breakfast and a coffee.  We had a walk soon after, the weather was strange, threatening to rain, sometimes cool, sometimes clammy with sporadic outbursts of sun.  We clocked up 199 species and kept the blood flowing - not a bad do at all. We arrived at the ground jaded and after purchasing victuals sat on the grass at pitchside and awaited the 2 teams.  This was a different ground for us, we like to add the odd new place into the annual mix, we hoped the football would be of a good standard with plenty of twists, turns and thrills. As things transpired, we weren't disappointed.  It was a shame there were no seats ready to take the weight off our posteriors, the ground is being worked upon though and when we return we hope to find comfy armchairs all around the pitch, each one with its own built-in buttock massager and tea-making device - we are demanding souls.

And to the game... the home pack started with pace-injected zeal and earned a corner.  The ball that was delivered was high and fell onto the awaiting bonce of No 4 (Glenn Steele) who nutted across goal from his back post position.  The merest of touches from an attacking bod would have brought the first goal, luckily for the opposition it didn't come.  The guests immediately responded with a sally forth that ended in a corner.  The outcome was a ball played short, knocked in, knocked back out, reposted and with the keeper eventually on it. What a waste of ruddy ink I thought!

From here the  Barrow-in-Furness based pack passed well, moved with endeavour and forced the hosts to earn their daily crust.  Fulwood more than held their own with a neat move that saw several passes lead to a sweetly threaded pass that No 9 (Spender Lucas) latched onto.  A shot came but a defender did enough to kill the sting and allow for the danger to be dealt with.  The home lads continued to push with another corner resulting in another lofted ball in. No 5 (Sam Higham) headed down from the far stick and No 8 (Sam Braithwaite) flicked on only to see the ball go over the horizontal.

Braithwaite for the hosts was leading the way next with a superb twist, turn and dash down the flank.  The cross came, a colleague whose number eluded me connected  and the bar was clattered.  The side under the cosh duly cleared with great relief.  

Fulwood Amateurs continued to press and were the better side thus far although the Holker unit had the odd sortie forth, one of which ended in a free-kick that No 10 (Jamie Hodgson) struck well only to be denied by an alert and animated keeper.  Suddenly the guests were marauding forth again with the ball bumbling around, the defensive ranks fumbling and a cross being borne amid a moment of indecision.  Up stepped No 9 (Luke Davey) and the ball was buried.  0 - 1, against the grain but that is how the cookie sometimes crumbles.

Fulwood now worked up a good lather to regain footballing parity but were soon back-pedaling as the green clad Davey was released and looking to finish.  Thankfully the resident No 1 (Jacob Barry) had his peepers peeled, his body well-flung and an outstretched shank did enough to block the effort.  After a booking for HOB's stalwart No 5 (Luke Mitchell) Fulwood mustered an attack.  The player who had just received a card was there to quell danger with the ball pinging off one of his upper limbs.  It looked a minor accident, the referee disagreed and gave a penalty.  This was a big moment, a strike and suddenly the match would be a different ball game.  No 3 (Theodore Ball) stepped up, stroked the ball forth and... missed the target - a shocker for sure.

The half was now nearly done, a ball was knocked forth for Holker, the keeper, who had been having a good game thus far, hesitated.  This slight pause allowed the galloping No 7 (Charlie McGladdery) to nip in with the cranium and double his sides lead.  Soon after the half was done and I was wondering how the Hell were the visitors 2 goals to the good?

A coffee for the break, my lass had a bag of crisps.  I avoided the salty treats as I am striving to be good, lower the blood pressure and drop a few pounds - by heck it ain't easy.  I could live on sausages, I could quite happily become a fish and chip tester for the local Fat Arse Society and I could surely put in a good showing at the Annual Sexual Trifle Festival where whizzing up a vat of jelly, custard, cream and sprinkles and then drinking the resultant liquid would be an unbridled joy.  But - the ticker says 'no' and the doctor frowns.  Bastards!

Half two with belly rumbling.  The leading squad were straight at it with a cross ball just not falling for an advancing striker.  The home team responded with an attack that bore similar fruit - the fruit, in fact, of the Tree of No Returns (Fuckus allus).  Holker were the team looking most likely to puncture the scoreline yet again with a cross laden with threat that the home mitter did well to palm away.  2 quick shots the same way came, in a manic start that saw no further goals.  Fulwood soon cultivated a spurt with No 7 (James Bell) having a pop from the angle that was close but not close enough.

The intriguing tussle continued. Fulwood's Ball chanced his shank with a rangy shot that found the outer onion bag and then the guests came forth with a thru-ball that found Hodgson who neatly found space, hoofed a low shot that the keeper tidily dealt with.  Suddenly, as time ticked on, the Amateurs won a gratis punt with the ball sweetly delivered and Braithwaite rising, putting crust on globe and finding the goal.  This was just what the game needed, perfect for we neutral nellies.

The next goal gained in its level of importance especially seeing that if there was only 1 more goal, either myself or my good lady would have predicted the correct score (I had opted for a Holker 3 - 1 win, my lass for a 2 - 2 draw.  Soon after the restart No 10 (Owen Watkinson) for Fulwood was racing away. A cross to Ball to bury saw the sphere just not settle and the chance get snuffed out.  At the other end and a tackle was made, argy-bargy ensued and Braithwaite for the FA chaps was sent packing.  Hodgson posted the free kick. In and out the ball went before No 3 (Joshua Woodend) had a pop that was deflected wide.  The corner came, it was well defended but immediately sent back in the perilous zone.  The ball pinged, Mitchell somehow bungled it home - this was added salt in Fulwood's opened wound, nay an extra clobbering in the recently exposed conkers for sure.

Much fluster and bluster came, the hosts gave a good account of themselves for a fair period.  The closest they came was when a sugar-plum cross found the dome of Lucas who was mere feet from goal but denied by the adept agility of the gloved guardian.  Watkinson had a pop next, it was a nice try but had way too much elevation.

The final gaspings, another free kick was awarded to the away tribe.  Hodgson was on it, struck a low pearler that brought up a 1 - 4 scoreline and pissed on the promise of a Non-League prediction.  

The last few minutes saw Fulwood still work with tireless passion. Watkinson being an eye-catching component.  A few more shots came either end,  the game came to a close with still good energy levels exposed.  The result was unfair I thought but Holker Old Boys are no mugs and know their way around the NWCFL circuit and duly deserved the win.  Man of the Match for me was their No 5 (Luke Mitchell) - a real choice defensive stint, getting in the way of many attacks, staying calm on the ball and grabbing a bonus goal too - now that is one good day methinks.  We headed home after another good jaunt out, get them armchairs ready, we shall be back.

FINAL THOUGHTS - Fulwood Amateurs are on a new adventure and it can so easily go tits up if the heads dip and Lady Luck plays a duff hand.  There were many moments today that could have swung this game the other way and on paper the result looks resounding.  I think this lot will more than hold their own in this league and have a good work ethos and passing ability to get them a mid-table finish.  The keeper is a fair last man and one or several out players seem to have the potential to have a good season.  They need a win soon, like an early morn pisspot after a sherry special bender, they need a settler, it will come but they have to take their chances.  Holker Old Boys are the wise old owls of the campaign and will swoop down on any enfeebled prey and make them pay big-time.  I am sure they will be in the top six come season end, they seem a complete team who have a good inner belief.  They will get rough patches, the questions will then arise.  Keep thy heads, have faith and keep passing and working off the ball and reap the rewards.  The last time we went up to watch these lot was part of a fine 3 day jaunt, I may be striving to persuade my missus that we have to repeat matters.  

DEFIANCE DEFEATED

29th July 2025 - Cheadle Town 1 v 2 Ramsbottom United - After yesterday’s 4 hour pootle and 24.5 mile bike ride my arse was a little tender and the Achilles Tendons were twanging.  This bastard carcass is just a bag of twinges, twangs and twattery - growing old is, a ruddy trial.  I beetled to and from work in weather 'dubious', caught up with a superfluity of tasks and when home, finalised a few wildlife ID's and stretched the muscles (all except one muscle that is due to the fact it needs a little more persuasive attention these days).  Tea was in keeping with my new dietary requirements, I watched a bit of Steptoe and Son (ooh what a nasty old bleeder) and was dropped off at the ground by my good lady.  I arrived just prior to kick-off and took myself to the far side of the ground in a somewhat anti-social manner.  The skies were untrustworthy so I had my brolly, this was the 3rd match of the new campaign (one being a friendly) and my second match report. The aim, to keep things as a mixed bag, to help parade a few teams and the Non-League wonder and of course, to see as many goals as possible during the quest to see 60 to 80 matches during the campaign.  Some folks will do more, some will do less, just enjoy it and appreciate. 

Prior to the game, I examined the vegetation near where I stood and noted the Hoverfly (Volucella inanis) feeding on Common Ragwort, a Common Nettle Bug (Liocoris tripustulatus) on its host plant and a Pale Straw Pearl Moth (Udea lutealis) flitter in the vegetation.  Wood Avens; White Clover; Ribwort Plantain; Creeping Buttercup; Bramble agg; Greater Plantain and Daisy were spied in flower and I also saw 10 * Swift; 1 * Lesser Black Backed Gull; 2 * Wood Pigeon and 3 * Ring Necked Parakeet. I will record these things, in this concrete shitheap of a world we have to get the natural realm noted, helped and appreciated.  Take off those blinkers folks.

The game started with the usual early season enthusiasm, just you lot wait til the icy tendrils of Jackie Frost are tugging at your nethers.  The Town were quick out of the traps with several cutting passes culminating in a corner kick.  The ball was posted high, a header came followed by a hopeful handball shout and the sphere going behind for another hoof in from the opposite side.  A header connected with the cross but the attempt on goal fell just wide.  This was a bright start with a good tempo made as Cheadle came on once again.  A cross was borne, the initial header missed but No 7 (Sheriff Njie) was sharp, duly retrieved and placed the globe for No 4 (Benjamin Lowe) to place home.  

The touch paper was now fully aflame, the onus was on the Ram Lads to force the issue.  This they did with a sugar-coated ball played across to the industrious No 7 (Harvey Hayhurst) who moved in and curled a shot that just lacked enough swerve to trouble the strike zone.  Rammy continued to work well with another thrust leading to a throw that was flicked on to No 8 (Richard Baker) who raised the shank, swung and sent the ball... way over the bar - it should have at least been on target! 

The tide seemed to be flowing one way when a loose ball was there to be had.  No 6 (George Lewis) for Cheadle charged in, raised the leg and failed to lower it in time and duly clobbered the guest No 2 (Oscar Radcliffe).  The result - go and have a bath dear offender.  This really was a changing moment and from here the game took on the scenario of one team with backs to the wall, the other desirous of the 3 point plunder. 

A smattering of spice was now apparent, the visiting team were asking all the questions. Hayhurst took a free kick that was a turf tickler that went around the outside of the upright. The same player was soon hurtling down the flank like a pursued shoplifter with his trousers full of Curly Wurlies.  A choice pass found Radcliffe who sent forth a cross that was begging for a killer touch that just didn't arrive.  Cheadle continued to work away with stubborn resistance, limiting the opposing ranks to a long ranger by their advancing No 3 (Lucas Braganca).  The shot landed straight into the awaiting keepers arms. 

Tempers were starting to fray, the black clad man in the middle did well to keep matters subdued.  Ramsbottom kept on coming in waves, No 9 (Saul Henderson) for the hosts did well to clear a cross off the line as the blue pack pressed with rising passion.  A flying header from No 5 (Luke Barlow) connected with an angled kick, the ball went off line, Cheadle were riding their luck for sure until they summoned a counter attack. Njie weaved a merry path and let fly.  The No 1 (Bradley Rose) parried, the ball was hoofed off the line, this game was still very much in the air. 

United's Baker led the next assault, a pass was threaded to Braganca who shot on the turn but couldn't summon any wallop and left the keeper with little in the way of mither.  More progressions forth came from the travelling tribe, Cheadle Town, like the Viagra-laden erection of Larry 'Love Lob' Ponce, stood mighty firm, the half ended with the hosts still with their peckers in front - phew. 

For the break I nibbled a bit of dark chocolate, it was as black as a raven's rear end. Whilst nibbling I pondered a group of soaring Swifts who screeched and circled beneath ash-grey pregnant clouds that really enhanced this summery eve. The masters of the sky have it sussed, free from the shackles of idiot ego, living a simplistic life and just trying to get by without trying to prove anything.  By heck, to grow wings, take to the air and drop a few turds on the human mush.  

 After a chat with a couple of grand lads from darn Sale way, a swig of some ginger, the teams came out, and the floodlights came on, crikey are we that far into the year already? 

The first 10 minutes of this period were hectic, I deemed them mighty important for the hosts as they had to stay resolute and begin to build.  Njie had a punt that was too high but brought a glimmer of hope.  Rammy were soon building up great impetus but just finding the final penetration elusive.  No 11 (Jacob Holland-Wilkinson) was soon galloping down the line, the home keeper was quick off the mark to negate further peril and soon after Hayhurst put in a great pass to the aforementioned dasher who crossed to Baker whose shot was in danger of hitting one of the overhead hirundines.  Poor indeed. 

The bottoms of The Rams were smoking, the fuel being burnt was incandescent and we were soon witness to another expulsion of energy in the hope of a final product.  Hayhurst again, shot deflected behind.  Corner in, line cleared, Hayhurst returning the ball - 1 - 1 was now the score-line.  The deflating groans from the home lads were audible, the joyous relief from the guest uproarious.  The game had taken a turn, it was now all about who would grab the full 3 point prize - I know where my bets lay. 

I was now joined by Mike who does the gate and takes the cash off all those coming to support the games.  I was appalled to learn that Mike was using some of this money to feed his soap star transvestite addiction and he had recently squandered several hundred pounds on an Emily Bishop costume.  I don't mind blokes dressing up as women, I myself once spent several years hanging around Bolton dressed up as Irene Handl, but robbing a fine club to fund ones needs is a bit much.   

Anyway, back to the game, and Rammy were eager to further punish their opponents with No 9 (Luke Sephton) nipping in and firing a shot that was too close for comfort.  The game was precariously balanced, Cheadle gained a minor foothold, the guests were just getting a trifle too eager to let fly.  Suddenly though a cute lofted ball was played out wide, No 10 (Matthew Dudley) remained cool and composed and fired home - this was a real killer blow I felt, but still had hopes of my pre-match 2-2 prediction coming up trumps. 

Like wounded dogs scampering amid a crossfire, Cheadle somehow survived more attacks and threatened to bite back.  Sephton for Rammy buried the ball with a flick header but the offside rule came to the rescue and the under-stress curs lived to yap again.  The battling continued, the hosts needed to opt for a 'shit or bust' tactic.  A shot did come at the Rammy goal, it was a golden chance but went straight at the keeper.  It turned out to be the last fling. Great hustle and bustle came, a few more shots at the Town's goal were had and eventually the referee said enough was enough. 

Despite one team being down to 10 men for most of the game and being under the cosh, this was a fascinating affair that kept the neutral enthralled. Few questions were really answered during this one but Ramsbottom United, I think, are up there with the favourites for this league and, Cheadle Town will be not far off making the grade.  Man of the Match tonight was a toss-up between a few players with note made of Cheadle's No 5 (Liam Delaney) who really put in a choice shift.  The pick though goes to Ramsbottom United’s No 7 (Harvey Hayhurst) for tireless industry, off the ball awareness, many a fine run and of course, the goal.  I went home quite fagged but happy I had made the effort to turn out. 

FINAL THOUGHTS - So, two teams finely matched and involved in a game knocked off balance by an early sending off.  As I pondered what transpired I came to the conclusion that as the season develops Cheadle Town will be as niggardly as ever with net-bursting opportunities for the opposition kept to a minimum.  I reckon they will remain a serious toughened nut to crack.  They are a disciplined team, have many ‘long in the tooth’ players who know their way around the non-league realm and this will certainly put them in good stead during the following months.  I think anything less than a play-off place will be a disappointment.  As for Ramsbottom United, along with Irlam FC, Padiham and Wythenshawe, I think this lot are up there for automatic promotion.  I have them down as favourites but one never knows.  Tonight I was impressed by the pace of the passing, the communication levels and the ‘never-say die’ belief.  There is a long way to go of course but 6 points from 2 games are bagged, we shall see what the next few weeks brings.  To add, on my way home I saw Man/Woman Mike selling a few signed photo's of Albert Twatlock in the hope of raising enough dosh to buy a Bet Lynch Pleasure Bra - now that's more like it - ooh Mrs Walker, me nipples!

OPENING DAY GRINDER

26th July 2025 - Maine Road 1 v 0 Garstang FC - And so, a new campaign of ball-booting buffoonery is upon us where many folks will don a coloured kit, step out on to the emerald turf and spend several months huffing and puffing, chasing an elusive globe whilst under the watchful eyes of card and flag wielding perverts who stick to the letter of the law like  rectal wasps to a perspiring pigs anus.  As all this transpires a hotch-potch of wayward onlookers will take in all that occurs whilst filling their guts with victuals of many flavours and beverages that range from the water of ponds to that which is deemed as sweet non-league nectar.  Money will be spent on ephemera, the hoppers will try and satisfy their tick-box hunger and those closer to the clubs will roll with lunatic fortune, capricious luck and the teasing torment of the climate.  Come winter time many a testicle will be frozen to the core, a few nipples will be withered and the sales of non-league hemorrhoid ointment will rocket.  Attendances will tail off but the hardy idiots will remain, swearing to stop punishing the aging framework and then turning out again with a few extra layers donned.  Come the end of the season only a few will taste success, many will have just been going round and round and end up back at square one but... isn't it just fuckin' joyous to be involved in a game of low-end reality and approachable value where all are in it together and the main aim is to just get out there and enjoy.  We shall all meet and natter with fine likeminded souls, see some outrageous moments of footballing madness and witness highs, lows and things in-between during our own individual journeys.  Here is my first match report of the season, an account penned by a DIY punk doofer who just wants to put a little back.  Hang in, there are no rules, there is no reasoning at times, the intent though is genuine.

Up and the kitchen and living room were tidied, I identified some of the insects from yesterdays wildlife pootle bringing the tally up to 173 species. The gasman was coming to drop off a new boiler today and duly arrived huffing and puffing with his thermal-inducing contraption.  No sooner had he beetled off than I was out and about with the good lady, a walk, a coffee, some mooching and then to footy.

Arriving back at Brantingham Road was a pleasure in itself, a good old haunt with many a tale of the unexpected to tell (cue Roald Dahl TV theme tune and exotic dancer).  A brew and then a natter with John D (aka Old Wankunian) who is a frequent visitor to these parts and whom, since I last saw him, has hit a golden streak in the sexual skinless sausage trade.  Apparently his new flame-grilled chipolata is all the rage in many gay circles and even hitting certain erogenous zones in the orifices of Doncaster.  Hey up chuck, me arse is afire!

And to the game, and with the marrowfat rattled, legs began to gallop and the globe duly chased.  The guests got the game rolling, an almost immediate attack saw No 8 (Lucas Pinnington) chance the shank with a punt that had weight but no direction, the mitter gathered with ease. Another push from the same side came, No 9 (Andrew Murphy) manifested a pair of mercurial tootsies and laid the ball off for Pinnington who had a first time dig but sent the ball shy of the upright.  Up the other end we went with the hosts earning a corner that was posted, followed by a nutting to goal that was hoofed off the line - promising indeed.

Matters proceeded, a decent game of end to end football ensued with some lively pace on show.  Maine Road went forth next, a ball was played, a touch forth and No 4 (Samuel Wrigley) gathered, made room and rattled in a daisy-beheader that found the bottom corner of the onion bag.  A sharp move, a sweet finish, a solid way to open the campaign.

From this early strike the home lads were soon working forward again with No 11 (Emmanuel Osayogie) found who had time to pick out No 9 (Jack Coop) but who was guilty of putting too much weight on the globe. Now that was a chance to really bury the game.  

Garstang continued to huff and puff like an asthmatic porn-star with a free kick earned that No 7 (Nathan Harkinson) duly posted.  The delivery was glorious but the kestrel-eyed liner had spotted something untoward and waved his flag like a barbiturate loaded rail guard.  The gratis booting deserved better.  

The game was nicely poised, both teams were building up a lather whilst just getting a little too anxious and wasteful up front.  Wrigley for the Road finalised a rapier like move but the end shot was deflected and ended up in the gloves of the mesh protector.  Garstang responded with a free-kick that was sent into the box which produced some far from convincing defending.  No 6 (Liam Clegg) eventually latched on to a loose ball with the net waiting - the outcome was a ball over and more liable to knock a few apples off the trees behind goal than firm up the cherries of the travelling fans (ooh fruity).

From here the midfield was the centre of attention with the mush in the mire leaving little room for progress.  Eventually Garstang came on, No 11 (Oliver Cooper) chanced a pop from range with a low ball that troubled the keeper.  The mittman kept his eyes on matters though and only conceded a corner that ended with another low shot the No 1 (Oliver Brockbank) was down to save.  An offside decision pissed on any further chance of excitement.

The half now wound down, Garstang came again, Whittaker touched on to Murphy who fired over.  Maine Road tried to counterpunch several times but that final ball was lacking the all-important pinpoint accuracy factor.  Osayogie next led a charge with Wrigley found who fed No 7 (Loui Williams) who in turn pulled the trigger only to see another propelled ball fly wide.  The referee had seen enough and brought the opening 45 to a close.

No movement was had for the break and myself and John were joined by a keen footballing work colleague  Jason who had been sat at the other side of the ground.  All were agreed that Maine Road were working the flanks well but lacking the end product.  John somehow manipulated the conversation and brought it round to the pleasures of the sausage and duly sold my work mate six of his finest 'Hot Damn Penetration Porkers' - I was a mere disgusted onlooker.

Half two began, Garstang worked up some good steam without causing too much concern for the opposing ranks.  Creativity was the general absentee in a game that was becoming a real grinding tussle with each tick of the clock.  The only dig at the goal came via the visiting Whittaker who, in truth, wasn't even close with his hopeful effort.  A free-kick came for MR with the ball played in, a header down coming and Coop having his shot deflected over.  The ensuing corner was too long but an immediate follow up attack was liquid incarnate and only the final killer touch was lacking.

Both teams grunted away with some high industry prevalent but the lack of apical composure noticeable.  Another bonus boot came for the hosts with the delivery sound but Cleggs header flying straight at the mittman.  A dry period ensued with Garstang still believing and Maine Road doing enough to keep their conks in front.

Attacks came at both ends but it was the midfield that was seeing the greatest abundance of playing time.  The Road were showing the greatest promise but it was Garstang who had the next attempt at mesh penetration with Cooper sending forth a low ball that the keeper did well to turn behind.  The corner was followed by a few passes and another grass grazer the gloved one saved again but before further excitement could arise, the liner was flagging.

The half (and indeed the game) was winding down, Whittaker for the guests on to Murphy who booted over and then right at the death one more Blue based onslaught was had but again, no strike was the outcome.

Not a classic folks, two teams finding their feet with sporadic bursts of good football.  Man of the Match goes to Maine Road's No 7 (Loui Williams) with good praise for the energy, speed and off the ball work rate. There is a caveat though, work needs to be done with the final ball and just a little micro-second taken to pick out a player to enhance the overall threat posed.  This was still a good perspiration-oozing stint though and worthy of the nod.

I waltzed home and was back in the footy groove, here's to the next one - they are coming thick and fast tha' knows. The only blight on the way home was seeing the aforementioned Jason at a roadside with his pants smoldering and the local fire service in attendance - talk about a waste of taxpayers money.

FINAL THOUGHT - Garstang came today and started well, had further periods of promise but are just shy of the finished unit.  It is hard to pinpoint where they are lacking but I reckon they need to play the full park when in possession and make sure when those attacks come the forwards are galloping forth with zealous enthusiasm. Off the ball they were outworked today and that is another area to maybe attend to although defensively, I noted a couple of good displays and reckon teams will be hard pushed to roll this lot over.  Maine Road won ugly today but there was plenty of promise shown all over the pitch to perhaps suggest this could be another fair campaign.  I reckon they are 80 to 85% the finished article and just one or two tweaks, a bit of luck and some solid consistency will see them be a convincing top 8 team for sure.  I reckon the blue clad lads are hoping for higher, 3 points in the bag is a good start.

END OF SEASON ROUND-UP

 2024/2025 SEASON ROUND UP

Matches attended

51

Goals witnessed

171

Average goals per game

3.35

Highest scoring game

Wolverhampton Sporting Community 2 v 5 Abbey Hulton Utd

Ten most seen teams

Maine Road FC 9

Cheadle Town 8

Cheadle Heath Nomads 7

Atherton Laburnum Rovers 4

Irlam FC 4

Styal FC 2

Foley Meir 2

Glossop NE FC 2

Colne FC 2

Longridge Town 2

Raffles won

Bugger all!

Match Reports Done - 12 (I was busy with noise and nature for sure).

End of season round-up

A late round-up and looking at the stats some ruddy slack work on my part.  It has been a busy few years in many ways and a real test of the cerebral resolve and my willingness to get up and go.  Losing friends and my touchline buddy STP Stu, the shitty health issues, the eternal mental health anxieties and the immersion into many other realms finds me struggling to do everything I want to do in the 24 hour days that refuse to stretch any further.  I still managed to squeeze in just over a half century of games though with plenty of new grounds visited.  It is all better than nowt and with my eternal dabblings with noise and nature, spending time with the good lasses, holding down a job and leading many wildlife walks I can't really grumble (but I am sure I will).

Maine Road FC is still a favoured haunt, they started the season well but things unravelled slightly and a play-off spot was missed - such is the capricious beauty of this raw and real game.  As well as floating round to some rather marvellous new places such as Madeley White Star, Loughborough Dynamos, Tintwistle Athletic, Foley Meir and Pennington FC we visited a few places that were far from aesthetically pleasing but which had the DIY spirit that we are always happy to support.  We have many new grounds to revisit that is for sure and as matters stand, a few extras to visit after the usual annual juggling.  Add to this a few we missed last time around and already the calendar is cluttered and utterly unrealistic.

One gripe as regards the season last time around was the disjointed NWCFL matches that saw several months rammed to the rafters with fixtures and then a couple of months with hardly anything locally to attend.  It all seemed rather unbalanced and in truth, I lost a bit of patience halfway through and tended to just do weekend games.  When the candle is burned at both ends (and in the middle) the thought of farting around in the freezing depths of winter, on a worknight, just didn't appeal this time around.  I did have a hernia operation in February too, which slowed me right up and left me in a great need of keeping the conkers cradled and warm rather than dangling forth on a wintry night on some Godforsaken touchline (nowt new there then).

Overall though I enjoyed what I saw, plan to spend the next campaign as equally well-spread and to hopefully get a good balance between the old favourites and some unvisited grounds that are long overdue a Fungal presence.  The aim is to get closer to the 500 match reports target (427 have been done) and do a few more interviews for that fine publication Where's The Bar?  I am sure that along the way I will meet some familiar faces and meet some new eager beavers whilst pondering a game that is played by many teams going nowhere, doing what they do with good passion and continuing to provide honest, approachable entertainment at level reality.  As per, fuck the big teams, the coin, the ego and the success jockeys who feed on the rear of the shitting sell-outs.  Keep it real, be thankful you are clued in to this wonderfully warted and raw-assed game and keep getting out on the touchline and helping things roll along. The key to all is to remember  - this is just a game, let us keep it fun, welcoming and played in the finest of spirits.  The macho bullshit is a weakness and the pointless bickering and niggles a sign of a lack of self-belief. Get out, smile, do it and just be thankful that you are part of something very special. Right - where's my knitted testicle cups?

SCRAPING BY

9th February 2025 - Thornton Cleveleys FC 1 v 2 Atherton Laburnum Rovers - Me and the missus were up early, as was our fine daughter who was dropped off at the local train station so she could go into Manchester and do a few set tasks.  We were soon on the road and after just over 1 hour, we were parked up in Fleetwood where we had a mooch.  A fine indoor market was a joy, retailers of various odds and ends were noted, some were selling knickers for those penny-pinching grannies and smoking requisites for those still enjoying a drag. The whole place had a distinct feeling of nostalgia and something honest. We ended up with 4 more books, 2 bumblebee cushions and a fine early lunch around the corner at Pablo's cafe.

Prior to today's game we still had time to deal with and so headed to Skippool Creek for a walk and an indulgence in nature.  It was a nice stroll despite a few folks letting their dogs run riot and all and sundry not taking note of the miracles around them.  We know the world is screwed and this country is falling apart at the seams, too many are out in the wild with no inkling what is nearby. Today we were blessed with flocks of fine Lapwings, Curlews, Black Tailed Godwits and Redshanks with decent numbers of Shelduck, Teal and various Gulls all in the mix as well as a few fungi, 2 of which were something of a rarity. Darn the digital drain and the blinkers that are forced over peoples peepers.

After the walk we nipped into a garden centre, made a couple of purchases and arrived at the ground for today's hoofing entertainment.  A warm brew, toast, a sausage roll and a contemplation of the pending game and a few local birdies.  My missus opted for a 2-2 draw, I fancied a 1-3 end result - as it transpired we were both close but failed to bag the bacon.  It was a cold day, I regretted not picking up and donning a pair of the budget bloomers - a big mistake, I just hoped my Larry Grayson hand-knitted underduds would keep certain areas warm - ooh shut that arse crack!

The game was soon afoot, within a few minutes the first break came with the home No 9 (Luke Noble) executing a delicious touch and turn before breaking from a tight pack and putting in a decent low shot.  The guest keeper was wide awake and produced a more than adequate save (ooh the spoilsport).  A corner came and was nutted out with a repeat corner contributing to some good pressure that saw ALR scramble clear.

On the game went, the hosts won the 3rd corner of the game with the guests defending well and maintaining their foothold despite the early advances from the opposing force.  As the TC lads pressed once more the Rovers reacted and cultivated their first attack.  No 10 (Thomas Romano) wandered and weaved, put in a cross that No 9 (Ryan Talbot) headed towards goal only to see the ball miss by mere inches.

And 2 more corners came, one for the home team that saw a cranial connection by a striker send the ball the wrong way and a brace of quick follow-up shots get blocked by well-flung defensive carcasses.  ALR's angled kick brought no penetration either as the guardian of the meshing did what they were expected to do. Atherton were soon advancing again with a fine cross finding Talbot's bonce but with the ball, once more, straying off target.

This was a fascinating game with Thornton Cleveleys continuing to make most of the running with plenty of flowing football and notable endeavour.  The opponents were stuttering along in a disjointed fashion but, like any team having a good season, they were still holding their own and promising to pounce.

Romano for the Rovers had a shot saved, No 7 (Jordan Beavers) finalised a counter but was again denied by the man between the timbers.  The instant response came, ALR's ever efficient and troublesome Romano crossed, a poke to goal came, the keeper fumbled and the ball was tapped home.  It looked to be a shocker, the liner was waving his flag for offside, would the resident pack learn from this scare and put the pennant waving chap on their Christmas Card list?

A move by the home team saw a throw, touch and pass see No 10 (Benjamin Duffield) full stop matters with a rather weak shot the mitter easily dealt with. The same number at the other end tried to punish this tame effort but was just denied a breakthrough and so we remained all square.  A brace of ALR corners came, the first produced nowt, the second saw a sound delivery get palmed away and No 4 (Lewis Adams) collect.  A quick turn, a no-nonsense shot and the keeper flapped and the globe entered the netting to give the guests that all important first goal - and against the grain it was.

The visitors now rose in confidence, Romano and No 2 (George Chadwick) linked up, a cross ensued with the home No 1 (James Faiers) down well to smother all potential danger.  The Gamble Road Crew now dug deep, a shot from No 8 (Oliver Wilkinson) went just wide and a punt from No 4 (Adam Sumner) had too much elevation and was disappointing to say the least.  The menace that is Romano had a pop for the leading team next with the keeper saving well and keeping his squad in it.  From here more efforts came, Chadwick for the yellow and blues was unlucky not to double his side's lead when the ball clattered the horizontal.  Thornton Cleveleys were living on the edge.

This was an all action game, I was struggling to keep my notes up to speed.  The hosts broke with a lofted ball from No 11 (Daniel Stoney) finding Noble who was vulgarly tumbled.  Stoney took the free-kick, a deflection saw Beavers nip in to bury, the keeper did mighty well to stay alert and save.  2 corners came and went, bugger all was borne before ALR sprinted away, Romano feeding Talbot who side footed his shot with the the gloved one just saving and touching onto the bar and over.  The corner (the 10th of the match) was delivered with eye-snagging quality, from the in-box confusion an own goal was witnessed, somehow Thornton Cleveleys were heading into the break 2 goals down.  Noble had one final punt to half the deficit but the ball put in a good impression of John Noake's mutt Shep, and wouldn't stay down, phew - what a turn up, where's me Blue Peter badge?

Half-time saw warming brews, a contemplation of the game so far and a check on other results.  Me and the missus also admired a pair of stunning Mistle Thrushes that were sat in a nearby tree probably wondering what those multi-coloured daft buggers were doing chasing an inedible sphere.  On a day that was getting colder by the minute, I could have been forgiven for thinking the same.

Half two began with the pack with their peckers up making a quick move via Romano who fed Chadwick who had shot but was denied glory by the goalkeeper's legs.  A break in play followed, a player was crook, a few verbals at the referee were choice, the game was soon back underway with shots each end not adding to the day's goal tally.

From here we saw a good flourish of activity from the Cleveley's ranks, the 11th and 12th corners of the match followed with No 3 (Harry Norris) putting one header over and another on the wrong side of the upright.  

The games first dry period came, a whole heap of exertive toil took place at both ends (and in the middle) of the pitch. From the snuffing out patch ALR broke with rapid and direct purpose.  Several light and accurate passes came, Chadwick was the pinnacle component of the move and had the mittman to beat and the game to bury.  The shot was blazed over and we were soon down the other end of the playing arena with Sumner exposing tidy feet and hitting a crisp shot that, like an over-exertive Playtex Bra, just had too much uplift.

It looked as though the score was settled when Thornton Cleveleys won a free-kick and the ball entered the box.  A poor header was the result and (surprise, surprise), an own goal and a life-line for the hosts.  Within a minute the same team were advancing again with a free-kick cheekily flicked on by No 8 (Oliver Wilkinson) and the target zone nearly troubled. That was mighty close.

A few subs came, we entered the closing stages with a few bookings needed to quell some growing unrest.  TC's Noble had a crack that went straight into the keepers midriff and yet another corner came but ALR were veritable concrete. As the arse end of the game was exposed, the hosts were just lacking the all important razor cut although a couple of late corners nearly bore fruit but a splendid block by Chadwick and a great catch by the No 1 (Joseph Bickerstaffe) helped the guests keep their noses in front.  Before the final whistle a cross for the home team saw Noble touch on and another own goal nearly arise - ALR survived, a last corner failed to add a dramatic full stop and we were eventually... done.

I had found this a thoroughly enjoyable game, I thought it was a very close contest and on a different day the result could have swung the other way.  Man of the Match threw several players into the melting pot but I thought Atherton Laburnum Rover's No 2 (George Chadwick) was effective in various areas and a real reliable rock when it mattered.  This stint, and several others, made sure the team looking for promotion, scraped by with a win.  It all matters.

FINAL THOUGHTS - A new ground is always a bonus, the brew and toast were grand and we had the pleasure of witnessing a very competitive game.  Thornton Cleveley's only have one area to deal with and that is, taking their chances when they arise. They played well today, made many a fine advance but just lacked that decisive touch at the last.  This and a slight tightening tweak at the back and they could move up a couple of places before the season is done.  If they carry on in the same vein, by heck could relegation be a possibility?  Atherton Laburnum Rovers have the league in their hands and if they keep churning out the wins then they will win automatic promotion.  They have some real fine elements in their squad, seem to have a knack to ride a rough period without any leakage and, always look a threat when attacking.  I would be mightily surprised if this lot don't win the league but, matters are far from settled.  We went homeward looking forward to a warm and the latest episode of Z-Cars - as per, variety is a glorious spice.

BLOOMING LABURNUMS AMONGST POT-HOLED ROADS

25th January 2025 - Maine Road 1 v 3 Atherton Laburnum Rovers - Another tough few weeks with a few more faces leaving this world of turmoil and passing on to who knows where.  These last few years have seen many fine folk fall by the wayside and the planet turn to shit - my patience and resolve are bring tested.  As the anarchist saying goes and one I may take heed of 'Keep warm this winter, make trouble'. Bah.

The morn was sedate, me, my wife and daughter pootled around Chorlton, purchased a few books and sundries, had a walk on the local park and indulged in a sun-kissed meal from the ever-reliable Tibetan Kitchen - by heck it was utterly wondrous scran that sat in the gut whilst bringing almost orgasmic joy. From here we had a quick stroll and then I was dumped at football where I purchased another coffee and had a grand chat with the lass who serves and smiles and helps make Maine Road FC a welcome place.

Eventually I was out in the open air, reading about Grasshoppers and soaking up the rays.  A quick chat with Road's Ben Mooney and I had a stroll.  I noted some birdlife - Redwings, Common Gulls, Mistle Thrushes, Starlings and a few others.  I was soon back in my chosen spot, nattering to a trio of keen Atherton LR lads who were loving their football.  Predictions were made, a couple of us went for a 2-2 draw, little did we know how bad Maine Road would be during the first 45 minute stint.

From the kick off ALR began with an eye-catching urgency and endeavour.  Maine Road looked mightily rattled and were struggling to settle.  An Atherton ball came, No 10 (Thomas Romano) was found and left with work to do.  Great feet were used to negotiate two players, the keeper posed a problem but the ball was fired home and the resident team and fans, were left reeling.

The onus was now on MR to try and force the play and make sure this game didn't slip away before it had even started.  A throw in came high up the park, Romano, for the guests, led a lightning break and was unlucky not to go all the way.  An injury, the game soon restarted, Romano was at it again and winning a free-kick.  The outcome of this gratis hoofing was a shot straight into an opposing player - I think 'shite' is the word needed here.

The Atherton lads continued to dictate, much to the delight of the three hollering lads who I nattered with and who made the occasional racket via their enthused gobs.  Against the grain though the sky-blue squad pounced.  No 9 (Kaine Williams) battled away with sound endeavor and found No 11 (Jean Jacques-Kirongozi).  A shot came, the save was sweet, a header from mere feet out was made by No 10 (Mark Pearson) and somehow the ball missed the target - for me this was a real game changing moment, Maine Road could very well pay a huge price for this.  The punishment nearly came when we immediately scooted up the other end with a close in header passing the wrong side of the upright by mere inches - this was a very decent game, but would it be a decent day for the hosts, already I was thinking 'not'.

The Road squandered another chance soon after, somehow won a corner which was soiled by too many horrid touches.  Another corner was abysmal and then we repeated the same scenario at the opposite end of the pitch.  The globe was hoofed high, all peepers in the box stood and watched as the spherical object descended like a forced turd from a constipated eagle's arse. The outcome - a goal straight from the angle - what a fuckin' shambles for the defending pack, what bonus joy for the team in the lead. No 3 (Harvey Brookes) was having it, a late Christmas present methinks, old Santa Claus must be feeling generous.

So, 0-2 it was and after Maine Road were caught dwelling on matters at the rear the Laburnum lads galloped, No 2 (George Chadwick) found himself in possession of the shooting sphere and executed a quite perfect shot that found the bottom corner and finished the game in no uncertain terms.

A combative period ensued, a few shots were had without causing any keeper concern.  The hosts were becoming irate, No 8 (Yousif Yousif) had a moment of spleen venting and was sin-binned. The player exchanged verbals with the ALR lads nearby, it was hardly helping the cause.  No 11 (Brandon Dawson) for the visitors put his head on a cross from No 7 (Joe Bacon) but couldn't keep the ball down and seconds later, the first half was done.

For the break I indulged in a Holly-watering Arthur Bliss, supped some pop, nibbled a Granola bar and pondered how bad Maine Road had been during the first half.  It was an unforgivable stint, the concentration off the ball was woeful and just the all round lack of cohesion indicative of a team whose campaign was liable to fall apart.  The manager must have been akin to a donkey's aroused pecker during the half time interval - trembling with emotion, becoming a deeper shade of purple by the second and liable to fuck anyone who was brave enough to dangle a carrot of disagreement.  I watched the two teams come back out, all the home players seemed to be walking OK - phew, asses with asses intact methinks.

Period two began with The Road looking a better team all round.  A choice ball from Yousif brought hope but Williams just failed to arrive in time and turn executioner. A corner for the same team followed.  The ball in was sweetly struck, the guest keeper though produced some fine hands and quelled any threat.  Once again the hosts came on, a free-kick was posted, some confusion arose and a touch to goal went just wide.  This was a great response after the horrible first half - applause to all for the effort.

The boys of Brantingham Road were now passing well and holding form, although they did allow their opponents a brief break that ended in a shot by No 9 (Harvey Sample) that was fortunately lacking in welly and wide of the mark.  

15 minutes of the second half whizzed by, the result was perhaps set in stone but this was now more about Road's  character than anything else.  As I pondered matters the resident ranks attacked.  A ball was played, Williams was suddenly the owner of the globe, had a quick peek at the target and walloped home.  The response and work effort certainly deserved it, but could the lads add another quick strike and really put the wind up the Athy Lads jacksies?

Some good end to end action came in what was now a balanced contest.  Time was a serious enemy to all comeback hopes and ALR nearly added further cement to their advantage when a corner came and No 4 (Lewis Adams) put in a solid and accurate header.  The home No 1 (Oliver Brockbank) reacted well and made a fine save that led to a Maine Road break which ended with a somewhat duff final ball.

As the blue sky faded so did the sky blue's hopes.  Pearson chased a ball, put in a chip that struck the bar and that was indeed that.  Huffs and puffs with no real threat posed and the final whistle brought a close to play.  The Man of the Match for me was Atherton Laburnum Rover's No 10 (Thomas Romano) for the time he spent on the pitch and his breathless efforts, the danger posed and his commitment to the cause that resulted in an effective first half for his team and a goal for himself.  Many teams are going to find this bloke a pain in the arse for sure, and in a completely non-sexual way - crikey.

From here I went for a coffee with the lasses and then attended my latest Fungalised gig - the Scouse Twats Invasion - it was a cracker.

FINAL THOUGHTS - Atherton Laburnum Rovers look set for promotion, they are a team who start mighty fast and once they have the advantage they look a tough unit to peg back.  All is not as rosy as it seems as the second half saw Maine Road more than hold their own, so this may be a warning to the guests not to rest on their laurels and to see the campaign out with some darn hard work and cohesion.  If they do this, I reckon premier league football awaits - and that will be another new test but well deserved.  Maine Road get on my tits.  They play some good football at times and then somehow manage to plunge the depths and look like a team in disarray.  I think any hopes of promotion are now gone, the key is to use the rest of the season to build confidence, iron out some real flaws and to play with a relaxed and sanguine manner.  The crucial areas for me are the 'off-the-ball' work and the vision when in possession.  If they finish in the top half this time around it will be a fair do, next year though Fungal demands. Only a play-off spot will suffice or I will be bombarding all members of the MR set up with vile abuse, half-cooked onions and, worst of all, signed close-up photographs of my perineum and ringpiece - they have been warned.

A BULLET FROM THE BLUE (AND THE REDS TOO)

18th January 2025 - Cheadle Town 0 v 0 Irlam FC - I am in the midst of a Fungalised gig run, I am showcasing many bands in DIY fashion and it is addling my head.  Many flavours to one fruitcake, a fruitcake with passion and a desire to put back rather than take.  As a result time is flying, the climate is still crashing and the mush of cretins are still dashing (to oblivion).  I could adopt a 'smash and grab' lifestyle and start wearing trendy clothes and following the flock - alas my arse is bared and the fuckers can kiss it.

A morn was spent with the best lasses on the planet, a trip to Wythenshawe shopping centre doused the spirits, a coffee in nearby Cheadle with some good chat raised them again.  I was soon dropped off at footy which was an early finish so I could piss off to Bolton for my next gig from where I would nip down the road to catch another band.  The season so far had left me devoid of any goal-fests, would today deliver the goods?  Well, a chat with Warren Dodd of Irlam FC left me wondering as he was quite happy for  0-1 win as long as his team got the 3 point prize.  Ooh the rotten sod.

So, on a cold and grey day I grabbed a brew and some chips and curry sauce.  The latter were outlandishly satisfying, the former was a fair brew which niggled my prostrate and forced me to take a leak halfway through the first half.  The question is, did the pecker pointing moment force me to miss a goal?  Read on, all will be revealed (including of course, my perished privates).

2pm, the globe was rolling, within seconds it seemed to be spending more time in the air than on the deck as both times tossed about and tussled for the upper hand. The first assault toward the onion bag came via the guests with No 9 (Declan Daniels) laying off to No 7 (Jack Mitchell) whose shot at the angle was woeful. The hosts looked for an immediate reaction but Irlam were already set up solid and were looking like a tough nut to crack.

From another questionable period, akin to the fumblings of wannabe sex star Albert Upright (lots of prodding and poking tha' knows), Irlam were the eventual beneficiaries of a corner kick.  No 10 (John Johnston) was in the mix, a shot came, Cheadle had no need to break sweat and the danger passed easier than a buttered turd.  A free-kick was awarded to the visitors next, following an awful decision for an high foot.  The ball was struck low, a striker completely missed it and a home player was mighty lucky not to have an own goal next to his name.

Cheadle were struggling to gain a foothold here, mainly due to Irlam's off the ball activity. The home No 8 (Darren McKnight) didn't help raise any hopes either when his attempt at a strike was marked down in the 'wank' column next to a note of Kier Starmer's leadership skills (one has to ponder all areas of life). Danger came and went at both ends of the park with no serious peril had.  The game was lacking a true spark and as I nipped for the aforementioned leakage break when I zipped up and returned to my perch I was unsurprised to see that the stalemate continued.

Irlam came next, a cross saw the home keeper called into action and just doing enough to deny the blue clad Mitchell a free header.  Cheadle responded with a quite sumptuous passing sequence that had Irlam chasing shadows.  Daniels was the apical factor and the end shot deserved better than to land in the awaiting mitter's midriff.

Cheadle upped the ante and finished the first 45 well but were slack in parts and nearly caught with their conkers exposed. A few half chances and we were done, no goals, no great thrills, by ruddy crikey!

There was no movement from me for the break, I was a trifle fagged and so had a snack and watched the clouds roll by and prepared for half two.  The minutes whizzed by, the teams were soon back out, I must have fallen into some kind of reverie, I could easily have had a nap.

Irlam began period the second with great animation.   No 3 (Taylor McMahon) chased a ball, put in a delicious cross that the keeper did well to palm away.  The Town came back, No 9 (Oliver Ford) gained possession, battled away like a Jack Russell with a pork chop in its mouth.  A cross ensued, No 7 (Kaleb Parkinson) let go a first time shot - the ball refused to stay below the horizontal timber. Within the twitch of the said dog's rectum Irlam countered with a ball played into the box that saw 2 strikers indulge in a bout of indecision and let a golden chance slip by.

The game was looking to be the first 'bullet' I had witnessed in a long while, a point would be no good to either team and I still hoped one unit would find the killer touch.  More sorties forth, more quality free moments until a superb move from the hosts saw them move from the back to the front with a shot coming that the Irlam mittman made a hash of.  Somehow the gloved bugger managed to survive the scare and deny the hosts a real sweet team goal.

As hopes of a goal dwindled a long Irlam ball found Daniels who was left with only the keeper to beat.  The protector of the mesh advanced and committed the great sin, a penalty was given and as 15 (John J A Main) stepped up to take the spot kick his whole demeanor seemed to lack positivity as the keeper swung his arms around like a gibbon with a severe BO problem. I expected a save or a miss, the shot came, the keeper saved, No 11 (Takura Sambizi) followed up and a block was made.  The corner led to a screwball scramble and a free-kick.  The high delivery struck the crossbar, but still no goal.

The last gasps, Irlam put in a few more decent crosses, the end execution was lacking. The game finished in hectic fashion with both units looking to grab a winner.  A late free-kick saw Cheadle's McKnight fire at the keeper and that was indeed, that.

No goals, plenty on hard graft, on reflection no team deserved to win this and no team deserved to lose it.  Man of the Match, Irlams No 3 (Taylor McMahon), a talented chap with a good work rate and a nice touch.  He helped keep the opponents at bay whilst always making a solid contribution - maybe next time he will be on the winning side.

Off I ambled whilst chatting to another fine Irlam regular - it was agreed that this was a day when things were not good enough at all, I hope my gig would be a better form of entertainment - bring on the racket!

FINAL THOUGHTS - Irlam were pushing for a play-off spot, I think this day will come back to haunt them come season end.  They have the players, the quality and the energy, they just need to work on that clinical touch and when on top of a team make sure they make them pay.  I think next season, with a few tweaks and an injection of a little more belief, the team will be in the mix and putting the wind up many competitors.  Cheadle Town are a rugged unit that are still finding their feet in the premiership but who are certainly capable of holding their own with all and sundry.  At times they play some slick football, at others they totally confound the cranial senses and have one scratching the bonce in disbelief.  They have a good manager, many solid players, they are not far from being a real threat and becoming a major player in a real tough league.  Again, the apical areas need sharpening and work off the ball must be done with a 100% commitment at all times.  If the local water supply is laden with heavy duty angel dust and the players are threatened with a death penalty following a defeat I reckon the changes will come sooner rather than later.  I am contacting North West Water now and sending an email to the relatives of Albert Pierrepoint to see if they fancy any part-time work - needs must.