VICTORIA TOO STATION-ARY

21st March 2026 - Portland Utd 3 v 0 East Cowes Victoria - Whilst darn sarf pootling abart tha' has to get in a footy fix tha' knows.  After a good week of chilling and wildlife hunting we were nearly done and the penultimate day of our trip began with a walk from the Obs Lighthouse to Easton, a fine breakfast and a mooch in the charity shops and then the lasses headed off for a walk back whilst I spent 3 hours at Church Ope looking for anything I could find (bugs, birds, blooms, retro nuddie mags or indeed evidence of multi-titted alien invaders).  A few blooms were recorded, a small variety of insects and several other bits and bobs and I even got the old belly out to soak up the charming rays.  No sightings of any ET's (Extra Tittyvals) were had although I did find a few pages of a 1970's Cross-eyed Razzle Special.  Alas all the pictures were blurred and were made for people with off-centre peepers - I had a brief rock-pooling session in disgust.

The lasses duly picked me up at 2pm and we headed to the ground, one we had visited twice before and on both occasions, enjoyed some good footballing fun.  A brew and a perch and the sun shone but a darn nip in the air was building, I was hoping a goalfest would warm the cockles and a match of battling intrigue.  What we got was chilled nethers and a game that unfolded thus:-

The first thrustings of the game came via the hosts with an initial attack finalised by the ever-willing No 9 (Greg Borthwick) who cracked off a first time shot the keeper did well to get down to and save.  A swift follow-up move was sumptuous with a fast ball in and Borthwick once more latching on but failing to find the target zone. The guests were rattled and like an anxiety riddled flutternut who was in need of a medical fix, they were failing to settle.  The game nearly produced the first goal when the visiting keeper went on a nomadic foray and the home No 11 (Patrick Jenkins) spied a chance to send in a high lob.  The ball rose, started to descend whilst the keeper back-pedalled in desperation.  A defender made good ground and put bonce to ball and made enough contact to send the sphere onto the crossbar before being cleared - that was a real close shave. 

A more settled period ensued, a time when East Cowes could try and gain a foothold.  Alas for the guests they were lucky to survive a scare that came their way when a ball sent forth bounced off the top of he bar.  The home No 10 (Remus Nixon) was next to chance the shank but the ball was sent wide.  East Cowes hung on and their industrious No 7 (Charlie Hart) had a chance to scuttle about and win a free-kick.  The delivery of the standing ball was bilge and Portland pounced with a liquid move that Nixon sweetly dummied thus allowing No 4 (Jack Delves) to collect, touch and fire disappointingly over the horizontal.  From this low-grade strike East Cowes surprisingly broke and No 11 (Caleb Neale) found himself away and with the keeper to beat.  A shock strike was on the cards and a real pattern shifting moment ready to unfold.  The shot was low and on target but the mitters carcass was sprawled and in the way and from the corner we could only witness a dire attempt at a delivery.

Time progressed, beyond the point where we had a chance of winning the golden goal prize (who needs new underpants anyway).  No 2 (Jacob Coombs) for Portland went on a run, a low shot was blocked, Delves followed up but it was all too easy for the No 1 (George Bridi) who was having a decent game.  Portland continued to press, from a corner a sweet header was saved and then No 8 (Josh Williams) made cranial contact but again the gloved one collected.

Thermal temperatures rose on the pitch, we onlookers were beginning to feel the nip of a spiteful wafting.  Borthwick for the hosts was a constant menace, the visiting No 2 (Rafferty Boyd-Kerr) worked up a lather and in the midst of minor antics a booking was given.  No 7 (Ben Morris) for the hosts was an impressive player so far but an attempt on goal was far from eye-catching.  As the half trickled away Portland rallied, a ball was sent into the box, the keeper was down but the ball went loose and up popped Borthwick and bagged a scrappy but all important goal.

The end of the half came with East Cowes having a strong flourish but failing to make any serious inroads.  It looked as though matters were to stay as they were when Portland produced a swift and fluent move with Delves providing an excellent cross that was cooly driven home by Jenkins.  A fully deserved goal and a fully deserved lead.

The break, we were chilled and my good lady went for the brews.  I nattered with my daughter before the missus returned and we pondered our break and going to the chippy for tea.  I am still on a diet but whilst mooching darn sarf a treat or two is a must - and I was clemmed.

With rumbling tum and tootsies griping, the second period began. Morris put in an early teaser for the resident pack and wasn't too far off the mark.  In truth, the initial throes were lacking in high end action with Portland eventually winning a  corner, seeing the ball punched away and soon after a penalty shout waved away.  Portland continued to press, corners, free-kicks and a few shots all bore no further glory but East Cowes were reeling and a knockout blow looked to be on the cards.

The bests the guests could offer was a corner kick that was neatly taken only to be dealt with by a well-regimented back-line.  A handball shout came, the visitors were getting desperate but the sable-clad man was having none of it.  Portland dug in, another angled hoofing saw the ball go in and out and then No 6 (Jamie Cleaver) fire over.  Nixon had a pop a few minutes later but due to an imbalance of the carcass the globe was sent wide.  No 2 (Jacob Coombs) put in a better effort, the mesh protector stood firm, saved, dropped but grabbed at the second.  

As time dwindled away Nixon finalised a deep probing but yet again, the stickman was solid.  Cowes continued to scamper and hamper and made some territorial progress before losing the ball and seeing Portland break with Nixon at the end of matters and bagging the final punctuating strike.  The job was done and dusted, a few minor pops came and went, a couple of subs made and that was indeed that.  The chip shop beckoned as well as the nearby bogs that a certain part of my anatomy demanded I visit.   Whilst strolling to the latrines I pondered the Man of the Match and reckoned No 16 (Jamie Symes) of Portland Utd was a no-nonsense rock-solid component who gave no breathing space or real glimpse of glory for the opposing force.  The nut was on most aerial balls, the game played simply but effectively and it was a big stint that made sure the scoresheet remained unblemished.

With winkle watered, we headed to the local retailer of fine fodder and met up with some good friends.  What a good day all round and the chippy was an outstanding success too!

FINAL THOUGHTS- A good day out at a club we have visited 3 times now.  The ground has a good feel, the whole set up is a joy and the fact we were perched up on high, with nice views and the sun in the sky all helped today.  A bit of undersoil heating would have been a bonus but there ya go, a pasty down the underpants will have to suffice next time - ooh sex gravy!  I thought Portland controlled this game against an East Cowes Victoria side who looked to be set up all wrong and with no attacking presence and no real movement into space when in possession and when off the ball.  Maybe it was an off day for the guests but the scoreline could have been far worse although if that early chance would have been bagged would the outcome have been any different?  

A GAME OF MINOR DIFFERENCES

28th February 2026 - Charnock Richard FC 1 v 2 Prestwich Heys - Another busy week in a world falling apart.  Whilst great cracks appear, people still toss off online, display great swathes of hate and showcase their inner shittery and disgruntlement. Myself and my lasses crack on, we try and put back and remain doing what we do in a considered manner - it ain't fuckin' easy I can tell ya.  

Today the young un' was helping clean up the nursery where she works, well she is one of the leaders so must set a good example. The missus and I headed out with Plan A scratched, Plan B, abandoned, Plan C down the pipe and Plan D adopted.  The cause of the diversions was the weather with forecasts shite, pure shite and double shite in several areas we were aiming for.  Astley Park was the first destination, a place we had never visited and one which looked half decent.  We arrived, had a niggling in the tums and so headed to the cafe and... indulged. A good breakfast and a brew and then some walking with fungi, birds, the odd bloom and a few lichens noted.  A new fungus was found too - Ceriporia excelsa, what a bonus.

From here we had a potter around some shops, had a fine brew to avoid a downpour and considered a few purchases but only ended up with some quite appealing candlesticks.  Time ticked on, not a bad day at all.

And to the ground. A park up, a walk around the cricket pitch and into the ground proper.  We shared a tray of chips, had a brew each and found a couple of fine perches.  Predictions were made and then we awaited the teams, ooh I was hoping my goal healthy season's average would be maintained.

From the embryonic gambits of the game some slick passing gave the guests the first hoofing from the angle. The delivery was tidy, the defensive header that came was effective but led to another corner. Another posting, a flick on and a handball shout.  The referee was in no doubt and awarded a penalty.  No 11 (Takura Sambizi) stepped up, paused, picked his spot and blessed the onlookers with the first goal of the game.

The Heys Brigade continued to push and make most of the running as the hosts struggled to settle.  The home team did win a free-kick which was played short, dinked in with No 7 (Ethan Eccleston) crossing only to find no takers waiting.  The home lads built again soon after with a back to front move that was finalised by a shot over the bar.  It looked as though an equaliser was on the cards but The Heys advanced and a couple of balls into the box followed. Time temporarily froze as the globe went loose and No 7 (Bryson Appleton) poked home.

The resident crew now had a tough task ahead and after a minor sortie forth they could easily have been 3 down when a quick move saw a cross find the crust of No 9 (Louis Holt) whose free header dropped inches wide.  This was a very good game and a home goal was now getting more than crucial but the visitors were looking the most likely to bag a third with several smooth moves only just snuffed out at the last by what could be only describe as desperate tackles.  

Eventually matters became more balanced with the only real attempt on goal coming via Sambizi for The Heys who had a sugar sweet pop just fly the wrong side of the upright.  The half fizzled away and Charnock began to make a little more headway and looked on the brink of making a real impression.  Suddenly a back pass was made by the leading team, the home No 9 (Jordan Darr) accepted an unexpected gift, kept his cranial conkers intact and stroked the ball home.  What a bonus indeed and duly throwing the game up in the air.  With seconds from the restart Charnock looked to strike once more with a free-kick taken by No 8 (James Nolan) who sent in a real dandelion decapitator only to see the keeper right behind the ball.  Things were suddenly looking a whole lot brighter for the CR fans and players.

The last phases of the first period saw the guests have a couple of pops and then Charnock Richard indulge in a quick break with a turn, a touch and Nolan looking to bury but somehow managing to find the outside of the target zone.  A few more pushes came, no further thrills or skills were exposed although CR's Eccleston should have at least hit the strike zone but blazed over. Things were all to play for.

We stayed put for the break, idling away, watching the world roll by and nattering.  This had been a good game so far, my 50^th of the season in fact, it is better than supporting the money-soaked big teams methinks and when combined with a walk and a few cafe visits, tis always a good day out.

Half two - Prestwich Heys played an early possession game when a Charnock long ball saw the opposing mittman and defender get in a muddle and nearly a allow a poacher to nip in and regain parity - the chance was not taken however and it was Prestwich Heys who had the first two cracks at goal with No 6 (Joshua Tinker) way off target and No 4 (James Badrock) linking up with No 8 (Robert Worrall) who turned at pace and sent forth a shot with too much uplift.

From here the guests continued to take their time with one attack seeing a finalising header strike the upright. Charnock responded with a slick move that brought no joy and then Appleton for The Heys was at the end of a Holt pass and had the chance to seal the game but fired wide.  In return Eccleston for the home crew pilfered, raced away and set his sights only to fire straight at the keeper.

Charnock began a good industrious period of pressure, a bout of eager football that produced several shots and forced the guest No 1 (Kyle Haslam) to produce several quality saves.  A free-kick for Prestwich was a poor decision and thankfully for the trailing team the shot from Worrall went shy of the netting.

Into the end stages we went, Prestwich had a break with a corner won. The ball was played in, No 14 (Shay Stansfield) had a header cleared off the line with a break leading to bugger all.  Prior to the final peeps Charnock had a rapier attack, a shot came and in all the excitement I couldn't tell if it was saved or pinged off the post.  Either way, the outcome was a corner with Prestwich Heys surviving and, as it turned out, seeing out the game and bagging the full 3 points.

In fairness a draw would have been a just result but Prestwich Heys put in a good stint and the Man of the Match for me goes to the No 4 (James Badrock) who read the game well, was always on hand to clear up any dangers and played with a sanguine style that kept things fairly steady at the back.

We had enjoyed this return visit to a club we were last at in the 2016/2017 season.  By crikey we best not leave it this long again.

FINAL THOUGHTS - Well, there is little to add here only that these two teams were similar in many ways, are both mid-table and have had a season with some good wins and poor losses.  This North West Counties Premier League is a very tough affair and with some teams chucking money about and some running on a restrictive budget it is a real slog to make any progress.  I think both units have enough to keep on competing at this level but to push on they may be not far off the mark but investment is needed and, of course, a bit of good fortune.  I really enjoyed todays visit and like the set up here.  The season just now needs to be seen out and next year minor adjustments and a few extra players are needed and each club can hopefully make adequate improvements. I am looking for a club to make my most watched next year, could one of these be in the mix, we shall see.  In the meantime, good luck to all and here's to a flourishing finish.

SIX POINT, SIX GOAL TREAT

14th February 2026 - Maine Road FC 3 v 3 Colne FC - The media trickery continues and the curse of tradition takes coin and has folks jumping through the same old hoops as Valentine's Day dictates and sees many going through procedure and showcasing love online.  A marketing ploy, built to destroy more individuality in this ever expanding slab of grey.  Myself and the good lady avoided the mush, we tell each other we love each other every day without fail, hugs a kisses aplenty and we do get on quite famously.  Today we picked up a new car which threw our plans sideways, we then had a pop in a few book shops, had a nice dinner and went home to have a tidy and a chill.  We should have been doing an early kick off but ended up setting out for a localish ground and one of the favoured teams I watch.  This was a bottom of the table clash, I expected goals and some meaty effort and hoped the best team won.  On arrival John D was in position, another frequent attendee of this ground, we made predictions, we were very close but just shy of a Non-League Nostradamus moment.  

The sky blue clad hosts got matters underway and from the off were away with No 11 (Sam Deering) darting down the wing, beating a couple of players and putting in a composed cross.  The Colne defence were slacker than the perished rear cheeks of Larry Grayson and up popped the home No 10 (James Horan) to freely head home.  As easy as A, B and fuckin' C with less than a minute on the clock - the guests had made themselves a slight incline to now climb.

From here Colne dug deep and made some good running although they did allow MR's No 9 (Jack Coop) to have a pop which was somehow snuffled out.  The guests eventually put a quite delicious move together with some fluent passing and moving.  No 9 (Barney Wiggin) finalised matters but the home No 1 (Alfie Brindley-Smith) was up to the questions asked and produced a top notch save. The pressure on the resident rear continued, a clattering came in the box and the referee pointed to the spot - I think it was well deserved.  Wiggin took responsibility and coolly drove the ball home.  Parity restored.

The contest continued with good pace. The Road came next, a free kick was posted, dealt with and wellied back and over by the over-excited No 8 (Kyle Oakes).  Despite this foray forth Colne were still dictating the running and won a free-punt of their own.  No 11 (Miles Storey) took the honours and made a sweet contact only to find the wrong side of the netting. As time progressed some dubious and desperate defending came at both ends, erratic shots ensued and both teams displayed a good hunger to try and squeeze out the next strike.

Maine Road stuck in and eventually began to make some concerning inroads.  Colne were guilty of not clearing matters and when a cross came, the ball was sent out and the defense seemed to be at sixes and sevens. No 4 (Samuel Wrigley) had time but chose to place a first time shot and found the bottom corner of the onion bag and gave his side the lead once more.  The strike seemed all to easy, once again Colne had to pull up their breeches, tuck in the slackened privates and hopefully re-penetrate the opposing rear.  This they did instantaneously with a push and a bonus booting earned.  The delivery was neat enough and a flick header from No 8 (Alex Ray-Harvey) sent the ball gliding into the goal.  

The guests now had renewed belief, another advancement with a cross and Storey having a crack that needed a serious on-line blockage to save the hosts bacon.  The half wound down, Colne pressed, a corner won but poorly taken.  The ball was won back, sent forth with a  goal mouth scramble ensuing that allowed  Wiggin to step in and give his side the all important lead.  As it turned out this was enough to take us into the break with a very unexpected turn of events - things were akin to the marvellous nipples of Belinda Boombusts - perfectly balanced.

We didn't move for the break, me and the missus nattered with John D about the latest books we had been reading.  My missus was on her latest detective/crime thriller, I was reading a collection of short stories by Ray Bradbury interspersed with retro comic cuts namely Tales From The Crypt. John it seems was still dabbling in the perverse and had just read the 45^th volume on the Hairy Arses of Hong Kong.  He seemed elated that he had got a rare copy that was bound in buttock skin with the text daubed by a pubic hair paintbrush.  Apparently he had picked up this copy from a Hiroki Humplespunk who gladly swapped for a copy of Oriental Orifices - the mind boggles.

And back to the game with the first sortie made by the leading squad via Storey who pounded forth, put in a cross that saw the industrious No 7 (Daniel Ajidagba) arrive but lack stature to make any cranial contact.  The visitors came again and continued to display a very impressive work rate.  Storey had a pop deflected over, the corner bore no fruit and then the same team nearly blew their advantage when a back pass saw Road's Coop nip in and look to bury only for the mittman to recover and push the ball behind.  The angled kick came and No 5 (Ben Mooney) put a header over - Colne were living dangerously but soon advanced with the hard working and well-balanced Storey away, touching on to No 3 (Benjamin Horne) who crossed and found the belfry of Ajidagba.  The nut contact lacked power and it was all to easy for the keeper to gather - that was a chance to bury the game for sure.

Back and forth the ball now went, Maine Road pushed with renewed fervour and forced the travelling goalie to produce a few saves.  A liquid move by Colne brought some temporary relief with a handball shout not interesting the referee and allowing Maine Road to escape by the skin of their scrotum.  The guests had a few players who were looking a trifle gassed now but they continued to dash and dart in order to save the precious lead.  The hosts were playing with increased urgency but still prone to giving the opposition chances to build.

The clock ticked on, the tireless Ajidagba for Colne sent in a low cross cum shot that trickled wide and then the local lads had a push with the ball being posted, a shot being blocked and the loose ball falling to the feet of Coop.  The goal awaited, the shot was not immediately taken and then another peek came and the globe was buried.  After all the fuss and fervour, we were now back at the stage where spoils were to be shared.

From here manic passing and a few half chances came but no team could grasp the bull by the bollocks and squeeze out any pips of success.  The referee let the game roll on and, as is the case at this ground, time seemed to warp and we ended up finishing late.  I suspect the owner of the club is a Dr Who fan and has had a secret affair with a William Hartnell clone and learned the secret of the fourth dimension - some people will go to any lengths to try and get their team a win.

The black clad man in the middle eventually called a halt, the teams shook hands and walked off at the end of a game that was a fair result.  Man of the Match was a difficult choice but Colne's No 9 (Barney Wiggin) gets the nod due to the two goals and the running off the ball that saw him exit the stage absolutely worn out.  During the game it looked as though he was needing to be subbed but he cracked on, worked his wellies off and set a fine example.

FINAL THOUGHTS- So, 2 teams with problems, by far from the finished articles and with a few minor niggles to correct.  Both squads have potential though, they work with good commitment and have a never say die attitude.  Defensively they do get slack at times though and seem to lose cohesion and unity, and each unit just seems to lack the supporting factor when blazing a trail into the opposing box.  As matters stand the 2 teams below them look set to stay where they are (although either one could string some results together and ascend out of the danger zone) and these 2 look set to squabble over who will avoid the final drop zone place.  I doubt if either will be relegated anyway as the league is looking to be altered again and falling out seems not to be an issue.  But, pride is to be played for, the fact is, if you finish in the bottom trio you should go, and that is just not good enough for a couple of sides who should be higher up the league.  The following weeks will see nerves taut and tensions rise, perhaps the only form of release is to ease ones self with a copy of 'Fatsos of the Far East - John D is the man to contact!

SIX GOAL SPECIAL TREAT

13th December 2025 - Darwen AFC 3 v 3 Holker Old Boys - With the festive period approaching and the masses ignoring the plight of a planet in trouble and once again going through the usual glutton and grab commercialised routine it was necessary to use the weekend wisely.  A trip to Roddlesworth Woods was the first port of call, a fine nature area that, once again, sees people visit, walk around, let their dogs run riot whilst they actually see fuck all.  Bird numbers are crashing, they can't settle and we were now at the end of the fungal season but we did see (and more importantly, record) 64 myco-species.  The birds that were around were fed, we had a coffee and overall we had a fine walk.

From the morns pootling we went into Darwen and had another coffee and lunch in a superb community cafe.  The place was laden with good will, warmth and many a fine character.  The food was fairly priced and spot on the mark, we were reet pleased with it.  A short trip around a few shops saw no purchases (we shall not spend for the sake of it) and to the Anchor Ground we went and arrived.  

After a walk around the ground where we spied Common Field Speedwell; Groundsel and Dandelion in flower plus the fungi Auricularia auricula-judae and Bjerkandera adusta in the car park, we parked our rears, took part in an Impressionist Art Quiz and indulged in some walnuts, raisins and dates. The teams eventually came out, we settled in and I got scribbling.

Holker Old Boys got the game moving and after giving away a free-kick (which led to nowt) were soon taking one of their own.  It was a mile out from goal so when the ball was hammered high into the box by No 10 (Jamie Hodsgon), began to fall and the keeper waited, we expected nothing out of the ordinary.  Alas the mittman grabbed, let the globe slip away and into the net it fell.  A howler indeed, much to the disgust of the home fans but, for we neutrals it was a perfect start.

From this bonus bagging the HOB lads came again with No 2 (Joseph McGladdery) on the end of matters but firing straight at the keeper, who this time safely held.  Darwen punched back, No 7 (Akim Samms) gathered, played the ball out wide which was delivered to No 11 (Joshua Abbott) who hit a low, firm punt that was mere inches shy of the timber.  From here the guests flashed away, a cross came that was laden with zip, Hodgson looked to bury but mis-hit and the keeper saved.  A corner and a free-kick followed alas both lacking in any thrills of clinical execution.

The Holker unit were soon at it again and with the Darwen lads pissing about at the back they seemed mighty relieved that the shot that came at goal was off target.  Holker had a penalty shout next, much to the disgust of a nearby fan who let spill a waterfall of verbal filth (I didn't even realise that such body parts existed).  Darwen had the next sortie forth, the nimble tootsied Samms was tumbled and No 9 (Nicholas Hepple) stepped up to take the gratis booting.  The shot came, the keeper tidily tipped over and the referee gave a goal kick.  Was the man in black on day release from the local Blind Institute or was his myopic condition down to too much wrestling with the one-eyed champ - it was a ruddy shabby decision either way.

Onwards and the Samms for the hosts, who was looking tasty up front, decided to pass the ball back from a midfield position,  The accuracy of the pass was abysmal and thankfully the Holker wannabe assassin, who perhaps thoughts he was being given an early Christmas present, was denied by some cool rear work by the solid No 5 (Samuel Ogundare). Soon after the visitors won a corner which was delivered with intriguing curve and pace.  The ball cut through the pack of players, the mittman was static and the second shocker of a goal was conceded with No 6 (Callum Fawcett) claiming the honours - this now made the game very interesting indeed.

The match continued at a frantic pace with another penalty shout for HOB waved away and Darwen coming close when No 10 (Bruno De Almeida Severino) provided 9 (Hepple) who struck firmly only to be denied by a sound save.  The Anchor Men soon came again, Samms provided the apical pop at the strike zone but once more the keeper was down quicker than a pervert on a dropped copy of Ringpiece Internationale.

A few more shots came at the Darwen goal, a looper went close but as things turned out, the break came and the home team were trailing by just the 2 goals.

Some argy-bargy was happening in the corner as the teams went off, we bagged a coffee and left them to it.  I can't see the point of waving handbags about when sequins are easily removed and lost.  These things happen, I think the ground need to look at putting hormone surpressants in their coffee and if a culprit is a multiple offender than secretly feed them genital shrivelling pills - one less cock is never a bad thing, unless of course you are Elsie Orifice - the Queen of Kink in the Lancashire back woods.

Anyway, and back to it with Darwen beginning the second period with great urgency whilst the team with the 2 goal advantage looked slightly unsettled.  Abbott for the hosts put in a firm strike with the keeper reading matters and getting his carcass right behind the ball. Holker Old Boys eventually found their feet, a swift break followed with No 11 (Tom Dawson) galloping away and facing only the man between the sticks.  The shot came, it was a moment to cement the outcome but the mitter stood his ground and saved - for me this was deemed a potentially pivotal moment.

Darwen continued to work with good impetus and more direction and were soon cultivating a neat move that saw De Almeida Severino collect and have work to do. Some deft weaving, a small sighting of goal had and boom, 1 - 2 was the scoreline and the game was back on.  The guests were now looking a trifle edgy, No 5 (Luke Mitchell) nutted back to his keeper with the Abbott nipping in and snaffling the ball.  Luckily for the HOB squad their goal evaded further penetration, unlike the aforementioned privates of Ms Orifice.  Again the Anchormen came, No 2 (Pawel Zuk), to De Almeida Severino who in turn provided No 12 (Nathan Bond).  The shot came, the keeper did well to push behind for a corner.  The ball from the angle was hoofed in, No 4 (Charlie Lloyd) made cranial contact but couldn't keep his effort below the woodwork.

Dawson had a pop for Holker next, again the No 1 (Morgan Newns) did well.  Abbott sent a sizzler back in return but once more too much elevation was had.  We entered the last 20 minutes with the end result far from set in stone.  The travellers did have a chance to seal when some persistent pressure saw McGladdery have a chance to bury but the outcome was a quite shocking miss.  The ball went straight up the other end, Abbott gathered and punished the recent misfire with a cool finish that brought great joy to the home fans and really made this game a 'anyone's guess' situation.

We were set for a grandstand lottery-laden finish, it all became rather frantic.  The final dribblings came, suddenly the HOB lads summoned a push with a good delivery falling to the feet of a substitute who looked a bang-on certianty to grab the winner.  The goal was there to bag, the touch came - the outcome another big miss.  By crikey lad.

Into added time we raced, a midfield tussle saw Darwen's De Almeida Severino eventually have the composure and vision to feed Bond who was away and just needed to guide the ball past the keeper.  The perspired brow was kept cool, the sights set and kaboom, the goal was had and somehow Darwen had turned this game around (remember the save at 0-2 the keeper made, crucial man, crucial).  This looked to be it, all eyes were on the referee and the Darwen contingency were already celebrating when...Holker Old Boys came, a high ball into the box was delivered with semi-hope when up popped Bond, made contact with the bonce and levelled the game at 3 - 3.  What a game indeed and a nearby HOB official was delighted to say the least.  The referee halted matters seconds later, this had been a minor gem and I thought the final result was totally fair.  Many a good stint was seen but, again my vote for Man of the Match goes to the Holker Old Boys No 5 (Luke Mitchell) who really is a composed, focused footballing defender who reads the game well, avoids any nonsense and does what needs doing when required - a quality player if ever I saw one.

Homeward we went in the darkened night, we were a trifle perished but warmed by a good game of footy.  The key is getting out and visiting these fine grounds and encouraging others to do the same - this had been another pleasure.

FINAL THOUGHTS - Two teams, nicely balanced, played at a footballing venue that is worthy of anyone's time.  Holker Old Boys are a steady crew and just need an extra 10% to become the finished package.  The key today was a few missed chances that would have surely nailed the game and dealt a real body blow to the opposing ranks.  They were gifted a couple of goals and on that they should have capitalised but I am sure if they would have been offered a point pre-match they would have taken it.  They are no mugs though and must have been a trifle peeved at blowing a goal lead but happy to have bagged a point - talk about mixed emotions.  AFC Darwen are a good unit and even though they got dealt a double-whammy early on they played with resolute focus, discipline and good energy to get back into this, scrape a lead and then to throw it away.  Again, relief and disappointment where tossed together in a cocktail of stressful, emotive lunacy.  This lot will be alright though and will be certainly pushing the top teams to the limit.  There is an abundance of quality in the ranks, a subtle fluidity and of course, great potential to go on a surging run.  I hope to catch both teams again mighty soon but the diary is always rammed and I go with a very meandering flow.  When you attend a game such as this though it reminds one to keep space available each and every week for that Non-League fix.

SHAKIN' UP THE BLUES

24th November 2025 - Maine Road FC 2 v 4 Bury FC - Today I had had a soaking whilst indulging in a 14 mile cycle.  I got mucky looking for fungi, birds and any other wild wonder and I had a bad head due to a neck strain, a blocked lug and some sinus shittery that is getting on my tits.  I arrived home and had a call from the doctors, my blood sugars had risen and so a strict diet was pending.  I was fed up and tetchy but was glad I hadn't stocked up on Texan Bars, Funny Faces Lollies and Rainbow Sex Sherbert - what a waste of money that would have been.  After a bath, some grub  and a chill I was contemplating the weeks ahead eating greens, low-fat produce and going for a graze in the local cow field.  This growing old lark is a poxy diddle, long gone are the days of sherry-swilling blow-outs, drawing on a tab, sniffing glue, gluttoning to buggery and lazing away.  Now every step has to be taken with care - 'ooh only one sugar in my coffee please', 'sorry I don't drink or smoke', 'just Bostik Glue from now on thank you'.  Mind you it could be worse - a local guy near me has developed a u-bend in his todger from over-meddling, has piles the size of globe artichokes and wears double-glazed pebble glasses just to find where he lives.  Ah yes - life begins at....ooh the fuckin liars.

Anyway, my good lady dropped me at the ground tonight, I took my place next to my mate John D and we had a catch up.  John has finally packed up with his Prosthetic Limb Agency and is now looking at growing Porn Corn - a new plant-based substance that is laden with hormones and aphrodisiacs.  The only side effect is your genitals turning yellow and an increase in the chance of being bummed by the Jolly Green Giant.  My diabetes diet now seems a great deal more sinister.  And to the game...

...onto the softly dew-kissed baize the teams strode, both looking rather small in stature, maybe an optical illusion caused by the wintry climate and my rather off-kilter noggin.  The early strainings saw the hosts hold their own and give inkling of a situation deemed 'promising' by those of a more optimistic bent.  Alas for the hosts Bury were soon charging forward with the blurring shanks of No 3 (J. Webbe) hurtling away and sending forth a pop at the meshing.  The ball was saved, the defending that followed was slacker than a politicians jaw and up popped No 11 (Tyler James) to bag the first strike of the night.

From this drastically bad start Maine Road were immediately put under the freshly branded cosh again with a corner won and delivered and No 4 (F. Gaulton) rising like a sexed up fruitloop on a trampoline (ooh darn this head) and putting in a free header that, luckily for the hosts, had too much elevation.  The home lads responded with some perspired work but just lacked the assassins touch in the final third.

The state of play began to level out, Maine Road had a chance to bag an equaliser when a bad defensive ball landed at the feet of No 9 (Jack Coop).  Time was taken to pick a pass, No 11 (Gold Badmuss) was found and after one look a shot was executed but, the ball failed to stay on target and so Bury breathed a sigh of relief.  From here the guests put in a stern effort, Webbe led the next charge with a sweet weaving run.  The ball was posted, confusion arose, eventually No 9 (Patrick Johnrose) had a pop on the turn and sent the globe wide.  Another nifty move for Bury soon followed, Johnrose was the end component but his dig also flew wide - Maine Road were now living on the edge.

As things looked to be getting more perilous for the hosts an attack was had with Coop putting in a deft touch allowing No 7 (Jeremie Pedro) to nip in and pull the trigger.  The guest No 5 (J. Gregory) stood firm and blocked, the loose ball was fizzed across goal and went dead.  A free-kick for the Blues soon followed.  A quick passage of play, Badmuss provided service to Coop whose fair crack just couldn't stay on target.  Bury punched back, Webbe delivered, No 7 (Gerry McCullion) produced an audacious overhead that saw good contact made but the ball fly over the timber.

From here The Shakers pushed, Road No 6 (Ben Mooney) was guilty of an error and the ball was pilfered and poked forth.  Mcullion had the keeper to beat and beat him he did - 0 - 2 - and well deserved.

Maine Road were clinging on now, a few free-kicks and corners came their way and they resisted further penetration.  They did indeed win a corner, it was hit with good curve and pace, the guest No 1 (R. Saunders) did well to stop it from sneaking in under the crossbar.  Soon after a Bury mistake was left unpunished and then a response saw Webbe put one on a plate for James who recklessly blazed over.

A few more huffs, puffs and not so close shaves and the break was upon us, the scoreline did indeed reflect matters and was perhaps a hint of more things to come.  I stayed put for the break and had my last Yoghurt Bar for a while and a swill of some warming ginger.  Fungalpunk may be Fungalmonk anytime soon - bless you my child.

Half two, Bury wasted no time in blasting forth via the impressive Tyler who won a corner for his troubles. In the ball went, the keeper failed to collect, Johnrose had a shot which was deflected over and the next angled hoof was survived.  The hosts looked to build from the back, a pass was made to the keeper, the first touch was shabby and the predator that is Johnrose scented a chance, nipped in, pilfered and tapped the ball home to kill the game stone dead.  A cruel blow indeed but if you dangle your conkers too many times you are sure to pay a heavy price and become one nut-short.

Maine Road now tried to summon some ray of hope with No 3 (Connor Clark) having a fair chance after a jigging run but failing to find the all important onion bag.  Bury were reactivated once more, a ball was held up with authority, touched off to James who let fly a venomous sizzler that bulged the netting and rounded off a quite rewarding session of play.  A fine goal that lad, a real humdinger.

From here the game fizzled out for a lengthy period with subs aplenty, a few injury breaks and no real high end action.  Due to this lack of thrill I was made more aware of the first tendrils of cold creeping up the trouser leg in the hope of numbing the nethers.  Thank goodness for my double-layered Frank Bough Thermals - they were slightly bald at the front but were still doing the business.

Into the arse end of the affair we went, it seemed goals were now a far away prospect with the closest we came being a shot from Road's Sub that was firm enough but tidily saved and a return hoof from the Shaker's that struck a bonce at the back of the goal.  A stunning move by the visitors came next, the flank was blazed, tackles rode and a cross posted but the wannabe killer could only connect and send the ball into the heavens.

I was ready to put the pen and paper down when Maine Road won a free-kick.  The postal service was decent, a nut across goal came, a moment of havoc and a spare man for the Blues, namely  No 3 (Jake Pogson) fired home.  This was a shocker and all too late but the home lads had their peckers up (ooh on such a cold night too) and a long ball saw all heads missed, and the substitute collect and rifle in a good punt that the mittman turned behind for a corner.  The booting from the angle came, a smattering of uncertainty invaded the box and up popped super-sub Jamie Schofield to touch home.  2 - 4 - and the goal average was upped but any thoughts of a comeback were derailed as the referee blew for full time a few seconds later.

I wasted no time in getting back to the car, I was a trifle tired and my good lady had brought me some toast - wholemeal bread tha' knows and cholesterol lowering butter - thankfully I grabbed a handful of grass from the pitch and added that as an extra treat - Non-League calories - only the best.  Man of the Match, I nearly forgot - I reckon it is mighty fair in giving it to Bury Town's No 7 (Tyler James) - swift, strong and with an awareness of what is going on around him. with 2 goals bagged as a bonus - nah tha' can't fault that.

FINAL THOUGHTS - Well, there ain't a lot to add here.  Bury FC were expected to win and win they did.  At times they were quick and slick and opened up the Maine Road team like a fishmonger filleting a Haddock.  One or two players really caught the eye and there was a good understanding throughout the ranks that made this a quite efficient and well-oiled performance.  The late goals they let in can be a reminder that concentration must last the full game but other than that, roll on Bury and keep doing what ya do.  Maine Road are on a bad run, this game was a free-hit though and I reckon they are better off out of all cups so they can concentrate on their precarious league position.  Their next 6 games will answer some serious questions with the one against Garstang a must-win match I reckon.  All teams hit a bad patch but without any attention they can become a contagion and a serious rot can set in.  Come the other side of Christmas we will see if the Maine Road timbers are shaking or the season has turned around - I like a bit of DIY Rot and Roll, I do hope The Blues avoiding the decay process.