UP THE BOTTEY (PHWOAR)

31st October 2026 - Chadderton FC 1 v 1 Bottesford Town - The last walk of the year was led, I was still in a T-shirt, the climate was warm and during a shortish pootle we clocked up 50+ fungal specimens with several to confirm.  Lunch was brought for us by the organiser (very kind) and it went down mighty well I can tell ya.  With damp feet me and the missus headed to the planned footy, Prestwich Heys FC whom I thought were playing at home.  Wrong, I seemed to have gotten the date mixed up and was duly labelled a 'silly sod'. Thankfully we had time to adjust and arrived at Andrew Street, the home of Chadderton FC, with 20 minutes to spare before kick off.  We shared some chips, I had a brew and we found a perch.  It was still mild, a good game was needed as we had been rather slack on the footy front of late.  Busy lives of many angles, cardboard cut-outs we are not, static is an option to defy and putting something back is necessary - simple, selfless and spirited.

The game soon began and the guests earned an early free-kick.  No 8 (Scott Matthews) had a pop which was deflected over and the corner found the same player's glabrous dome with the ball pinging from the bonce and flying too high.  I considered this a big chance missed.  From here both teams pushed on in what was a very chirpy start. Bottesford were the force holding most threat though and were soon advancing again with No 11 (Jack Farley) fizzing a sweet low cross that was not met by any incoming strikers.  Moments later and Matthews was on it, put in a power shot that hit the inside of the post before being hoofed clear.

The traffic continued to be one way as Chadderton strove to get a grip on matters.  A rare pop at goal for the hosts came from their No 11 (David Abuku Danku) but like the facelift of Tom Jones, the elevation was too much and we were left disappointed.  Down the other end and Matthews played to No 10 (Owen Vincent) who executed a crafty backheel that saw Farley collect, spy a shot and put the globe into the netting. What a sharp and attractive goal that was.  

The Bottey Boys (by heck that sounds dubious) cracked on from here and the off-the-ball running was exemplary and kept the Chaddites on the back foot. A shot by the visiting Vincent saw the home No 1 (Oliver Culkin) save and fumble with a defender clearing the concern.  The hosts remained in a pickle, they were losing too many 50/50 balls and just being outworked.  Eventually though the trailing team put together a period of good possession and broke the general flow of the game.  No 9 (Andrew Theo) worked into a position and had a solid chance to level the game but the guest No 1 (Ryan Musslewhite) produced a concrete save.  The ball went this way and that before No 7 (Eddy Goddard) shot high into the darkening skies.  Vincent had a return shot for Bottesford but it was another attempt that flew over the timber.

The last rasps of action saw Chaddy's Theo win a free-kick that No 6 (Darren McKnight) hit firm and low with the keeper pushing behind.  The corner bore bugger all, Chaddy strained a little more but remained constipated and void of goalage - the break was upon us.

I nipped for a piddle, we had a nibble of some choccy and checked other half time scores.  For the first time this winter I was feeling the chill, I was mighty thankful for the cloned pygmies that I keep locked in a shed at the bottom of the garden.  In exchange for cigarettes, chip butties and back issues of Kangaroo Porn they knit me various warming garments for parts best kept private - I hope the tri-coloured conker-cradles are nearly finished!  Knit one, purl one, wank one - result!

Half two, the first progression was made by Goddard for the hosts who was tumbled by the opposing No 6 (Henry Moore) and issued with a lemon coloured card for his troubles.  McKnight stepped up, had a pop that went straight at the keeper who palmed away.  Goddard arrived and just had to touch home to get the all-important leveler, alas his shot went straight at the gloved guardian.

Onto the next action and the home keeper found himself in possession and opted to hoof long.  An attacking player was hindered, the referee issued a red card, had a chat, stuck to his decision and No 4 (Cody Prior) was sent walking (the wrong man charged).  The bonus booting was taken by No 10 (Jordan Lazenbury) who put in a low bender and found the bottom corner - what a double whammy mammy!

We now had a very intriguing cup tie that saw both teams work hard to grab the lead.  Chadderton tried to take advantage of being a man up but all they could muster was a wayward lob by Lazenbury and a poke at goal by Goddard who was denied by a margarine mittman (he was well-spread ma'an).  Matthews for The Town let fly a real old piledriver that wasn't too shy of the strike zone before we hit a session that was penetration free.

The last 20 minutes came, Bottesford created a fluent move with Varley feeding No 7 (Jamie Ture) who crossed with No 9 (Jack McNemeny) hurtling in and failing to make contact.  The hosts made a couple of subs, the perpetual Bottesford ball thief Ture had a cheap penalty claim and Chadderton's Lazenbury put in a low whistling cross that again was void of takers.  

Extra time, Chadderton had a couple of shots blocked, Bottesford had a free-kick that was hit with too much welly and the referee was soon rattling the pea (in a non-sexual way).  Penalties it was, as per, it was all a matter of nerve and luck.  Bottesford's Varley was first up and buried, Lazenbury for the hosts  was given a real rowdy reception and had his shot saved.  The horn blared, the jeers came and from here Bottesford buried every chance and Chaddy missed another and so were knocked out of the FA Vase.  The away team ran to their fans, celebrated like they had won the World Cup and to belatedly add to their joy, I think their No 7 (Jamie Ture) was deserved of the Man of the Match choice due to the constant galloping, good footwork and a remarkable ability to tackle, snaffle the ball and come away in possession - a pick-pocket player if ever I saw one.

 A good game, we nipped to the local supermarket afterwards for victuals and a warm - not a bad day all round.

FINAL THOUGHTS - Well, we ended up here by default and we had no complaints (well, the chips could have been fresher and the seating could have had its own warming device but there ya go).  Chadderton started too slowly today and seemed really out of sorts during the early throes.  To be fair, they did mighty well to grind along and get back into things and having made it all the way to penalties they were decidedly unlucky not to progress.  They should have made the extra man count but how often do 10 men up their game and come out on top?  Bottesford were exceptional at the start of this game and throughout the 90 minute spell they displayed a good attitude and approach when not in possession.  This will serve them well throughout the season and they could have a good run in this cup that is for sure.  Energetic, hungry and focused, as long as discipline remains, the work rate stays high, then many a good win is going to be had.  Bottey-Tastic methinks!

THREE POINTS BLOWN OR ONE POINT GAINED

19th October 2026 - Maine Road 3 v 3 Garstang FC - The weekend had flown by, it was a mush of fungi mania, gathering nettle stings in parts left unmentioned and striving to catch up.  I squeezed a footy game in, the report will be submitted to 'Where's The Bar' Magazine for an article - it is good to do one's bit.  Today I was out and about again, then spent the afternoon on the microscope sorting many outstanding fungal specimens.  Tea and the good lady and I headed out, arrived at the ground and after grabbing a coffee chose a perch. Minutes later the game was on and I was letting the nib roam over the paper.

A net delay and then a brisk start with a spectacle of urgent central scurrying.  First shot of the game came after the home No 11 (Siraj Hussein) was out wide and worked inwards with a low shot lacking in gumption and too easy for the keeper.  No 9 (Weslie Bajraliu) had a pop at the other end, the outcome was similar as was No 8's (Lewis Royle) dig for the hosts.  Crikey, I could hardly keep up.  No sooner had I noted these initial incidents then Bajraliu had another wallop that packed more 'oomph' but was void of keeper-confounding direction.  

 

The first corner came after Garstang pestered, pilfered and applied pressured.  The result was a ball delivered with too much uplift and easily dealt with. As the guests galloped forth MR broke with a delicious long ball gathered by the darting Hussein who outpaced his markers, negotiated the keeper and sent the spherical object home - ah the sweet simplicity of it all.  No sooner had the lead been bagged and the night was looking promising for the powder-blue clad team than their No 7 (Franck Haba) played a back pass that saw the keeper make a dubious touch which let No 11 (Liam Painter) nip in, snaffle and send the globe homeward.  

 

2 goals already witnessed, the game was looking like it would produce many more as both teams played with good pace, a certain openness and a willingness to press on. Hussein cracked another one off (no, not in that way) and the visiting No 1 (Joe Lawton) put in a firm save.  After a Garstang free-kick No 10 (Brandon Carrington) whacked one over and then Maine Road had a couple more advances with no further impressions made on the scoresheet.

 

A somewhat dry period ensued, with MR making most of the running whilst Garstang remained tight in the rear (akin in fact to the anal appendages of a sexual scuba-diver - nowt worse than going for a dip with a gaping vent tha' knows).  The composed No 6 (Calvin Harper) for the hosts however nearly snuck in but just lacked a bit of pace and then, mere seconds later, the same bod used sharp feet, was unceremoniously tumbled and won a penalty.  The same chap stepped up, took his time and swung the shank.  The outcome - 2 - 1 to the hosts and from here they continued to push with the Garstangians striving to maintain a foothold.

 

The half flew by, Bajraliu for the guests latched onto a ball that the hosts lost but the shot that came went off the mark and really should have been the leveller.  Before the break Road’s Harper displayed a good footballing brain, played the ball to Hussein who looked all set to fire home but a bobble came and the globe was hammered into the great bleak beyond.  Time for a stretch and some choccy.

 

A nefarious chill seemed to be creeping closer and hellbent of crystallising the gentle areas of we fine people. It was getting to that time of year with the willy of winter bared and ready to stiffen up and freeze the chuffs of any poorly dressed and unprepared pillocks.  Note to me and the good lady - to get the midgets we keep in a shed at the bottom of the garden to get knitting some radioactive thermals.

 

Half two, Garstang were all action, Maine Road were the great absorbent ones (just like those special pants one needs after a night on the piss in Iceland).  The home entity of eleven came on, Hussein received, a shot followed, the wood was wobbled, the ball was there for both teams to deal with, Garstang were rooted, up popped the blue clad Hussein to guide the ball home and give his squad an all-important 2 goal cushion.  It was a goal against the initial second half flow but... they all count!

 

Maine Road were now looking cushy whereas Garstang offered the odd threat but were denied by several offsides and poor end passes.  A few handball claims were ignored, The Road rallied, had a few corners, one of which resulted in a header from the mush that just wouldn't stay on target.  Garstang worked away, No 8 (Liam Entwistle) picked up the ball, put in a cross which Bajraliu was on the end of.  The player in possession fired, the bar was hit and the ball went dead.  

 

Free-kicks came each way and Road's No 4 (Blerti Jacaj) put cranium on a corner ball from mere feet from the strike zone but couldn't keep his effort below the bar.  As the minutes ticked by the visitors hung on and looked to design a dissection of the opposing defensive body.  The tools of execution were sorely lacking and it did look as though the 3 point bonus was staying at Brantingham Road.  The last 10 minutes came, Garstang pushed, Bajraliu was in and there to grab a goal that would offer renewed hope but the resident No 1 (Liam Sergent) was down to save.  The ball was sent partially away, Entwistle gathered, turned, shot and found the bottom corner - now this was an interesting turn up.

 

The hands of the clock would not wait, the focus of the trailing team needed to be 100% to gain anything from this game.  Maine Road were guilty of getting pushed back, a ball was played forth, a chest on and Entwistle was floored.  Despite a dispute a penalty kick was awarded and No 17 (Noah Hindley) strolled up and coolly levelled the game - by crikey, what a comeback!  

 

The rear end of the game was exposed, Garstang posed a couple of threats but the MR ranks survived with the keeper called into action and just doing enough to spare further blushes.  The game ended soon after, a real enjoyable affair with many players worthy of a Man of the Match nod.  No 2 (Joe Lynchey) for Maine Road was my choice though - a fizzing bee with a good energy level, a constant willingness to be involved and always keeping the opposition wary and thoughtful - have a cup of Honey-Tinted Castrol GTX on me.

 

FINAL THOUGHTS - And yet another jaunt to one of my favoured haunts and another good game of unpredictable events.  I shall sum up both teams in one sweeping analysis due to the fact they are similar in many ways.  Both play with the full pitch used, they have an attacking style and both have potential to hammer a team on any given day.  Alas both teams also have the potential to squander points and have a knack to play the wrong ball at the wrong time and throw away real killer opportunities.  The last few seasons have been tough for these squads, I suspect end positions may be a little higher this time but, the players need to retain belief and when the chance arises to take a game by the conkers and squeeze out the full-on victory, it must be taken.  I reckon a mid-table finish for both would be something to build on but, this is a right capricious league with many hungry sides – as per, only the strong, the consistent and, the fortunate will survive. 

JUST BUDE-IFUL

10th October 2026 - Hayle AFC 2 v 3 Bude Town FC - A fine morning was spent clambering through some undergrowth, down a cliff and onto Stackhouse Bay.  Rockpooling was a joy and although we missed a few species the sun shone, we saw some fine specimens and stretched the legs. A nip into Hayle was grand, a coffee, a couple of shops we know were popped in and I picked up 3 Halloween films on DVD for the princely sum of £3.  Bargain.

Time was of the essence so we cracked on and arrived at the ground in good time to grab another brew and find a viewing spot. I noted a few blooms, 2 species of butterfly and a couple of birds and then got the notebook ready and the tip of the nib exposed - ooh mother - splash that ink baby!

A Small White (Pieris rapae) flew by as the ball got rolling - a lepidopteran cum football twisted omen perhaps as the visiting bunch were clad in white - cue Twilight Zone music.  From the off Hayle won an immediate corner which was hoofed with too much welly and soon after the No 8 (Callum Sidwell) forced the issue and had a pop at goal that went straight at the keeper.  The hosts applied a good squeeze whilst Bude scrambled and hoofed much to their hopping manager's disgruntlement.  The guests slowly gained some ground, No 10 (Billy Hopcroft) was released but his shot went off-line due to a desperate defensive nudge.  A free-kick was given, the shot came, a few 'handball' shouts rent the clement airspace but the referee was disinterested and waved 'play on'.

Bude grew into the game with noticeable effort and started to test the mettle of the opposing rear. Hopcroft let fly after the defensive ranks backed off.  The shot was well struck but just lacking in true direction.  As Bude tried to worm a clear cut chance Hayle gathered and broke.  At the apex was No 10 (Aaron Hicks) who received, made a snippet of space and let fly.  The ball stayed low, the keeper dove and stretched a limb but the ball squeezed by and nestled in the corner of the strike zone - a very nice take indeed albeit against the flow somewhat.

From here Hayle pressed again, No 8 (Callum Sidwell) was looking to nip in but the travelling mitter was their to quell the threat.  The home 'erberts looked for the next goal with increasing purpose but were too easily caught offside on a couple of occasions.  All that was needed was a little 'up-front' composure.  The Bude No 19 (Piran Friend) however was next to rise from the hustle with good tootsies shown that resulted in a tumble.  No 9 (Ray Spear) took the free-kick, picked his spot and sent the ball into the top corner with a quite sumptuous strike - we were back to all square,  this was becoming more intriguing by the minute.

Bude now pushed on, No 7 (Harrison Swatton) was out wide, a high cross was met by the pate of Spear whose close in header was safely gathered.  The half raced on, there was little between these teams with a goal before half-time greatly sought.  Bude swept forth again, Swatton's end shot was too high and left many travellers disappointed.  No 5 (Harry Hopcroft) had a dig soon after and was closer to the target zone but still off the mark.  The guests were finishing the first 45 with a flourish, but could not find a way through.  A handball plea was urgent and voluble but after a discussion between the officials a free kick was given which was bunged over the horizontal timber.  The break was upon us, all level, perfectly balanced.

A wander, a piddle and a brew - by heck I could have thrashed some chips.  We took up the same positions with the weather still kind but a slight chill nipping in.  Having soggy feet from the rockpooling wasn't helping but hey, better to have crabs nibbling my tootsies than crabs elsewhere.

From the off Bude were keen with No 8 (Nathan Colley) letting fly a rasper-jasper that the keeper was behind.  An injury break came, the player was soon up again and as matters unfolded Hayle were gradually getting squeezed back and shown a brandished cosh of peril.  A quick move for the Town saw some swift and sharp passing with No 6 (Jake Woodland) finalising with a wayward shot.  The local lads eventually gained possession and broke.  No 7 (Aiden Murphy) bounded away, a touch and a shot followed with the upright clattered and left in a state of 'tremble' - unlucky.  

A Starling landed nearby, he looked a trifle perished, ooh the delicate southern bugger.  A nip was in the air but nothing critical at all and as the balanced game unfolded I was warmed by the effort being poured in and the continued passion.  A free-kick for Hayle after Sidwell was felled.  No 4 (Joe Carlyon) stepped up but could only post a pea roller at the keeper.  

Time advanced in this tight contest.  Bude won a corner - it was short and shit, just like Ronnie Corbett, I believe.  Another Bude progression, the home keeper came and a player was clattered, the referees arm was raised and a digit was pointing to the penalty spot.  Spear took responsibility and delivered a low and easy strike that found the back of the bag - the onus was now all on the shoulders of the hosts.

Into the arse-end splutterings, Hayle just weren't doing enough to create any great panic in the opposition's back line.  No 4 (James Wheeler) for the guests was exemplary and mopped up many loose balls and dealt with any danger in a cool and calculated manner.  No 11 (Kieran Rennard) for Hayle came on but the aforementioned back bod was there again and doing his bit.  The time wasted away like the cock-end of a far gone leper.  Hayle pushed, Bude broke, a sweeping sortie with No 11 (Tiga Olaosebikan) thrusting through and bagging a goal to bring up a 2 goal cushion and certainly cementing an away win.

With only 2 revolutions on the clock left Hayle refused to roll over and give in.  A ball entered the Bude box, chances were lost before No 18 (Joe Day) gathered, stayed composed and fired home.  From the kick off there was no time for a further attack and that was that.  We agreed that if there was another 5 minutes on the clock the game could have ended quite differently but Bude deserved this (just) and Man of the Match goes to their No 4 (James Wheeler) who was dominant in defence, had a good reading of the game and always did what was required when needed.  Spot on man and keep it rolling.

Off we went with another ground visited, a fine game noted and a good day all round had.

FINAL THOUGHTS - First things first - Hayle you have a good set up but we Northern bastards like chips and pies tha' knows (even when on a diet) and next time we head your way we wanna hear the chip pan sizzling.  Other than this, keep up the fine work.  As for the teams, I think they were well matched today and with a few different rolls of the globe the scoreline could have been easily a draw or even a home win.  Bude Town were decent today albeit a little frustrating at times with their ability to get squeezed and pushed back.  They are a steady unit though, their backline is well-regulated and they have some sharp components further up but, don't dilly-dally when going forth and give your colleagues options chaps - therein more goals will be borne.  Hayle please in parts, frustrate in others and in truth this was a spell of soccerised action that had a bit of both emotions.  At times they played with a wide game that stretched their opponents and kept them thinking but at others players ran out of space into the mush and so killed options.  When in possession, off the ball runs are the greatest creative force, today I feel, there wasn't enough and those that did come were mainly lacking in forethought.  The team are decent though and hey, these are just personal thoughts from an online looker - tis all I can offer and of course, these reports - I hope it nudges and helps.

DROP SHIP, SHIT DROP

3rd October 2026 - Porthleven AFC 7 v 1 Dropship FC - The first day proper of a break and we revolved all matters around a football fix. Up early and my daughter and I went and did a touch of coastal fungal hunting in a small wooded area near where we were staying.  20 species was the paltry haul but one or two were quite intriguing.  A few other bits including birds, galls, and Velvet Horn Seaweed (Codium tomentosum) with its rounded tips to the fronds and Breadcrumb Sponge (Halichondria panicea).  We returned, picked up the missus and had a lovely morn around Porthleven.  Shopping, wandering, soaking up the sun and noting a few more wildlife species (I can't stop).  Time raced by, we were soon parked up and at the ground of choice, a ruddy good set up and it was quite timely as the rain started to fall and we needed to park our arses.  Predictions in, pen and paper ready, here is what we saw (and by heck it was a right old surprise).

From the initial relish of hoofing eagerness the guests pushed forth, won a corner that resulted in a rather shoddy angular booting.  A corner came at the other end and was thrown into the filing cabinet labelled 'bilge' and a follow up free-kick from the angle was also discarded that way.  No 6 (Nick Barber) for the hosts had a shot soon after that wasn't to far off the mark and then a Porthleven long ball was obvious and direct but caught the visitors on the hop.  No 10 (Cameron Quirke) collected and galloped like a gorilla with a gear stick up his arse.  The keeper was there to beat, uncertainty invaded the attacker's thinking pattern, a cross was played instead of a shot and No 11 (Thomas Walter) outpaced his marker and put the ball in the netting - what a lovely goal.

The hosts built on this early bonus whereas Dropship indulged in a dicey game and played a little too far forward whilst looking to break.  No 17 (Ben Williams) for the travelling tribe came on, the ball went loose, No 9 (Tyler Cheshire) attempted to lob the keeper but just missed the mark.  Another long ball came for the residents, Walter cracked off a low shot and the mitted man saved mighty well. A corner came, the gloved gent punched, Walter put the ball back but the No 1 (Zach Tellory) was there again to gather.

Pops came at each end of the pitch, Dropship worked into a threatening position with Cheshire looking ready to rip one forth but taking a tumble instead (get a refund on those boots fellar).  The game settled, Dropship had a weak penalty shout, a free-kick for the hosts was well struck with the keeper saving (yet again).  The ball was loose, a return effort was blocked, Quirke put in a cross and the man between the timber just about pushed away.  More shots came the same way, somehow the DS lads survived and remained only a single goal behind.

From here we saw Quirke for Porthleven gather in midfield, turn and play a quite delicious pass that released No 7 (Ryley Stephens) who set his orbs on the target zone and sent the globe home - 2 - 0 and within the spasm of a sexed-up squirrels arse, Porthleven came again and from out wide a swift cross came and this time No 9 (Charlie Young) touched home - this was now looking as though the result was already settled, who would have thought it?

Dropship were reeling but not learning any lessons and Porthleven's Stephens was soon released again with a good effort saved and a follow-up crack at the onion bag also neatly dealt with.  The resultant corner was cleared and the DS unit moved forth, lost the ball and saw an 'over-the-top' pass played that Young collected and sent around the keeper to add his side's 4th strike.

The tip of my scribbling implement was glowing as I tried to keep up with matters.  Another angled hoof was earned for the hosts after some good grafting by Stephens.  The ball in was lofted, came down into a rather static box which allowed No 5 (Luke Hart) to make it 5 and finish the contest.  As the weary visitors tried to muster some magic a brace of shots were blocked and the opposing force broke with Quirke finalising but denied again by a keeper who was paradoxically having a good game but with a bundle of goals against his name.  The cruelty of football knows no bounds.

A moment of deja vu came when Dropship were owners of the ball, lost it again and allowed a pass to be poked through which Stephens collected and bagged the half dozen for his side. This may go down as one of the worst defensive performances I have seen, too high, too tightly packed and just not reading the threat. Had the chaps been on the beer or just having an off day? 

Before the break the trailing team did have a couple of punts at the meshing but both went behind with the latter leading to a corner that saw the ball cleared off the line on a couple of occasions and a return twatting clattered the bar.  A final header was gathered by the home No 1 (Martyn Webster) and that was that!

For the break we stayed put, the legs needed a rest and we had a little choccy to share.  Plans were made for what to do after the game and we pondered how many more goals there would be - I suspected very few as the opening 45 was surely a capricious occurrence of the most unpredictable proportions.

Half two, several shots came, Porthleven had a flourish and then Dropship broke but the defending they faced was cool and precise and thus pissed on any chips of consolation.  A few more attempts at the home goal came but lacked wallop and belief but, and a but laden with applause, the lads on the end of a drubbing were still having a go.

Porthleven had a couple more digs at goal, the first by Young who struck a well-drilled boomer that was denied by a firm save and then Quirke let fly but couldn't keep the ball below the bar.  No 17 (Dexter Bainbridge) put in a rather indifferent effort that missed the target and the DS No 20 (Tyler Oliver) had a hopeful pop that was again off-line.  The game seemed to be lacking any fresh creativity and it looked as though matters were now carved in concrete.

No 18 (Joe McRory) for the guests had a solid strike that was saved and the resident No 15 (Fraser Paterson) and No 14 (Edward Strike) linked up but the ball wouldn't sit and the mittman was on it.  After one the travellers volleyed over some in box argy-bargy came, expletives used and a few pushes had.  The referee settled matters, Porthleven worked on, won a corner that was booted into the box where Hart arrived and easily buried.  From the restart more huff and puff came, a guest player was sent for a rest and after a pause in the game Dropship cultivated enough late spunk to advance with their No 8 (Samuel Horton) quick to read matters and grab a late goal to ease the overall pain.  One final boot by the guests was blocked by the keeper and that was it folks.  8 goals, and Man of the Match I felt should go to No 7 (Ryley Stephens) for Porthleven FC. A 2 goal grabber, a quick 'erbert when taking to his heels and a constant menace in this quite one-sided game.

We beetled on, Gunwalloe Church Cove Beach was the area explored, not a bad way to finish a decent day with a fine footy ground in the mix.

FINAL THOUGHTS - I usually finalise these reports with a judgement but today I can't help feeling that what I write is skewed and not reflective of the teams on show.  Dropship FC are surely better than this and here just dropped in a shitter which happens to the best of teams now and again. Their league position shows they are not as bad as they were today and with a good kick up the arse and some attention to defensive details they will be back on track as soon as.  Porthleven were tasty today, played to their strengths and could have had a few more goals too, especially if it wasn't for the opposition's stickman.  The main problem with having a goal glut is that the next few games could be taken lightly and things could easily come unstuck when faced with sterner opposition who are very much 'on it'.  I shall keep an eye on what transpires and note is made that when we are back down this end, Porthleven is worthy of a return visit.

WHEN TWO TOWNS GO TO WAR

22nd September 2026 - Cheadle Town 1 v 3 Runcorn Town - I have been in the midst of the mycological mayhem with the fungus world keeping me on my toes as per.  I lead generalist walks these days but fungi creep in to matters and eventually force their way to centre stage - I blame the intrusive mycelium and willingness to munch away at one's resistance. Anyway, this was my first game for over 10 days, I was squeezing it in due to being busy again for the next few weeks. 

Living locally afforded me the luxury of arriving home from work and having time to catch up on a few tasks and have a chill before setting out.  I had a boxing work-out, finished the latest book I was reading, did a bit of tidying in the garden and watched some boxing - Riddick Bowe - now there was one of my faves.  Tea was downed, shoes laced up and the good lady was kind enough to drop me at the ground.  A position chosen after salutations to familiar faces and the pen was ready to scribble. I was joined by a man I know as 'Decorator Dave' - a top chap who loves his footy and music, sometimes a little too much as an halftime reveal shows.

The primary pootlings of the hoofings displayed two teams well-matched and with little in the way of any definitive chances until Cheadle built on a period of passing possession and earned a corner kick.  The ball was delivered with mid-pace and decent curve and duly met the crust of No 4 (Paul Turnbull) who flicked on and found the back of the net.  A dream start from the great opening gambits of promise, could the team now with their noses in front build on this? 

Runcorn Town now shored up the defenses, worked forth and became the more composed team that held the greatest threat.  Several moves, however, looked threatening but the end creativity factor was noticeable by its absence.  They visiting tribe did win a corner which was nicely posted and No 4 (Charlie Harland) rose, had a smattering of free space and a chance to bury.  The contact made with the noggin was middling, the direction of the ball poor and so, the one with the mitts easily pushed away.  A return surge, a shot from Harland again which was too tame and too easy for the goalie.  No 11 (Ed Burthem) for the same team was soon rampaging forth and put in a searing cross that flew across goal with no takers arriving - hey ruddy ho!

The travellers continued to make the most of the play and applied a decent amount of pressure without actually making any serious inroads. A carefully threaded pass caught the eye and No 9 (Connor Spiers) displayed good pace to latch on and shoot from a rather sharp angle. The wallop came, flew across goal and went behind.  No 7 (Kieran Alley) had a punt soon after but the ball bobbled and was wellied over.  It looked as though Runcorn were going to bag an equaliser but a Cheadle long ball came, the keeper dropped and as a clearance came the home No 7 (Ibrahima Diop) fired back but couldn't keep the globe down.

The half ended in a staggered fashion, a real injection of excitement was needed.  No 9 (Spiers) for Runcorn had a crack before the break but the effort lacked wallop and the mittman saved and did enough to deny an incoming player who was ready to pounce on the loose ball.  More huff and puff, a whole load of gasping and into the break we went.

I chatted to my fellow tooter for the night, we covered many footballing realms and some noise - Chron Gen, The Exploited, Blitz and Peter and the Test Tube Baby's - the first band the best of the lot for me, very effective noise.  I did mention that Showaddywaddy were booked in to play a punk festival next year (which sums up the mass dilution) and was surprised to hear that Dave had actually been bummed by the guy on drums - and it was all done 'Under The Moon Of Love' - well each to their own I say, 'hey rock and roll, I'm gonna shove this in yer hole - ooh heck.

Back to the game with my drainpipes hitched up and Runcorn were away, the home No 3 (Harrison Lomakin-Rogers) defended well, knocked a peach of a ball down the line, No 18 (San Adegoke) collected, worked inward and finisned with a diappointing shot that was way too limp.  Runcorn now held the ball, tried to crack a defensive puzzle and came up short on several occasions.  Spiers eventually found himself in a great position and the chance to shoot was had and duly lost as a pass was played instead and the ball cleared.

Shots came at each end, both abysmal if the truth be told.  Runcorn had a corner, a shot was cleared off the line and I was wondering if the scoreline was truly now set in stone.  Cheadle had a few flourishes forth, Runcorn held their own and cultivated an attack with a ball played out wide to a fully focused Burthem.  The player with the globe cut in, colleagues hollered for a pass, the man in possession was indeed seemingly possessed and deaf as a fuckin' doorpost.  Further inwards he worked, a chance to offer up an opportunity looked lost when the shank was swung, the ball sent forth and the bottom corner found.  A fine goal but if it would have missed an ear-bashing would have ensued - oh the lucky perisher.

Now the game was back on, surely the next goal would win this.  A free-kick was won by the guests, into the box the ball went with chaos reigning.  No 17 (Will Ebbrell) was on it like a wasp on a honey-dipped nipple and executed a quick turn and twat and duly found himself the scorer of a deserved goal.  What a turnaround, the hosts were in need of an instant strike back.  They came on, a free-kick was won on the edge of the box. No 11 (Keane Barugh) put boot on ball, added some sexy curve but forgot the 'direction' and 'power' assets and so missed the target zone.  Another free-kick came for the hosts and didn't lead to anything and then Runcorn broke, No 2 (Emmanuel Sholabi) fed No 14 (Ebou Badjie) with the ball breaking nicely and allowing for a shot to come.  A pass was taken instead, Spiers swooped and the ball was bumbled home and 1 - 3 it was.  The game was done and dusted and fizzled from hereonin. The closest we came to another stroke was the very last kick of the match with Harland for Runcorn lumping a free-kick from his own half.  The ball rose, fell and the home mitter had to tip over.  There was no time for a corner, the visiting pack had done enough already - the 3 points were going on a trip.  Man of the Match was chosen from a tight contest but I thought Runcorn Town's No 4 (Charlie Harland) was a pivotal point of reliability and played the game with a steady and effective approach throughout.  Nothing too flamboyant, nothing out of this world but a concrete contribution to the kick-about that deserves note.

FINAL THOUGHTS - This was not a classic but it was a fair game and I thought the best team won.  Cheadle Town are in a new league, they will hold their own but just that final polish is lacking.  I really can't pinpoint what this needed extra sheen is, they are a capable unit but tonight just seemed to lack ideas and an overall urgency.  I suspect they will grind out many results, have a few tip-top days and one or two, like tonight, where they will come unstuck.  Consistency is always the key don't ya know.  Runcorn Town play at a ground I have a soft spot for, I do need to get back there.  They have had many highs and lows recently but, going by tonight's evidence, seem like a decent unit.  They are riding high at the moment and I can't see why this shouldn't continue - they just need to make sure they bury their chances when they arise and play for the full 90 minutes with variety and positive vibes throughout. I went home singing to myself, 'Chronic Generation' was the song, not 'Three Steps To Heaven' by the aforementioned cover band - and I even managed to avoid any cerebral visions of quiffed up love sessions - bonus.

A 'DAB'BLE BEYOND

12^th September 2026 - Nantwich Town 2 v 3 Wellingborough Town - The Gods of Time and the Commanders of the Calendar have conspired to create a befuddling period of hecticness and therefore this is the last match I can attend for a couple of weeks.  The fungi, leading walks, work, catching up with CD reviews, writing the latest books, recording wildlife and striving to clear a backlog are some of the reasons that the diary is rammed - thank goodness I turned down the invite to join the local Nude Snooker Club - my pink tipped cue is flagging and certainly not up to a good 'chalking' and 'Screw Shot' buggery.  

And after a morn at Brereton Heath where we saw a small collection of fungi, a trip to a tucked away bookshop where several purchases were made and then a coffee and a walk around Barony Park where a few more fungi were noted, we arrived at the ground in good time and stood in a small queue.  As it transpired, the line of folks were a bunch of Swedish guys over in this part of the world for a conference.  A chat was had, one grand chap said that 2 of the party were missing and would we like their spaces as guests - we accepted and entered the ground on a bonus freebie - thank you so much fella - what a lovely thing to do. We duly purchased a brew and chips and found a lofty perch that gave great views of the pitch.   I was hoping that prior to a mini-break I would get a goal-feast and a fair game, as it transpired this is what I got:- 

From the off an early free-kick came for the hosts after the No 9 (Luke Enright) was tumbled and the ball went dead.  No 10 (Josh Hancock) posted, No 8 (Callum Saunders) rose and made cranial contact but the ball was way off the mark.  A corner soon came for the guests after some nifty work by the No 7 (George Ball).  Alas the post into the box was rather piss and equally poor and any chance of a goal was not to be had.  From here the hosts had a good bout of pressure but a lack of vision and creativity brought little to get aroused by.

Wellingborough resisted the flow, cultivated a move with No 8 (Nathan Hicks) finalising matters with a booting from an acute angle that went wide but earned a corner.  In the ball came, a header and a shot were both blocked as Nantwich bumbled by and came on.  Enright put in a sweet floating cross, Hancock connected with the crust but the ball lacked direction and went straight into the mitter's awaiting upper limbs.  

The game now levelled out, for me the hosts were just shading things but of course this matters not one jot if the scoreline reflects an 'all-square' situation.  The home lads came again and tried to add to their slight advantage with Hancock laying the ball on a plate for No 2 (A J Kandeke) who didn't pull the trigger at the first time of asking and when he did let fly he was rather wayward in his attempt.  Enright of the same team was soon having a pop at goal, the end result was akin to a fat idler who had not done any exercise for many a year - weak and wide sir, weak and wide.

The half rattled on, Nantwich were nearly caught snoozing when the visiting No 3 (Sam Warburton) threw in a ball to No 10 (Danny Draper) who let one fly that just whizzed over the horizontal timber - that would have been a shocker.  Wellingborough built now on this potential, No 5 (Jack O' Connor) had a header straight at the keeper and then the same team won a free-kick deep in their own half.  A couple of passes followed the bonus booting, No 11 (Kai Fifield) fed Draper who made space, delivered a firm shot and whoosh, the first goal of the game was bagged - it was a fine strike if the truth be told.

The final splutterings saw semi-glimpses at goal for both teams with no players grabbing the gonads of opportunity and wanking out any prize pips.  At the death of the first 45 a free-kick for the hosts found the nut of No 6 (Paddy Kennedy) whose header struck the crossbar and that was that - we were heading into the break with the travelling team 1 goal to the good.

Movement was minimal for the break, it had been a long day and we were seizing up.  A stretch, a ponder of other results, a chocolate fix and a laze - ooh these busy bods need a rest.

Half two and Nantwich came out with a real spring in the step with the ball pinged one way, then the other before Kandeke was in possession out wide.  A cross was put in, was there a deflection, either way the ball somehow ended up in the back of the net?  I may have misread matters here and the claimant of the goal may have this down as a peach of a strike - ah the world of fantasy is a strange realm.

This was an electric shocker to the visiting lads and they now looked to make haste and get back the lead.  Some progressive advances were made, the Dabbing chaps stood proud.  A corner eventually came, the ball was lofted high and the home keeper hollered.  The defending pack had an attack of 'frozen body syndrome' and Doughboy O' Connor pounced and bumbled the ball homeward.  

The overall temperament of the game rose, Nantwich were in the position of needing to score but also needing to make sure they stayed impenetrable at the back.  Wellingborough, to their credit, were not sitting on the lead and were seen to be keen to get another and bury this one for good.  The guests were having the bulk of possession and Nanthwich were having to put in a robust hustle which they did darn ruddy well.  A ball did come forth for the hosts, No 14 (Bruno Cina) was galloping forth with curry-dipped conkers it seemed, alas the keeper was quick to read the danger and quell the threat.

Wellingborough would not be muffled, they came on in more waves with Fifield feeding No 12 (Charlie Green) who crossed and saw the ball trapped and then released. Green was there and poked toward goal - the outcome was off target, man that should have been a goal methinks.  The dominating team now surged again, No 9 (Neo Richard-Noel) delivered a cracking cross that just lacked a killer's touch.  And yet again the Wellingborough side advanced with No 6 (Matty Slinn) executing a shot that the keeper pushed away and soon after a ball came into the box with Richard-Noel looking to head on but no ball-based bump on the bonce was had.

Things were looking as though they would stay the way they were although I did note to my missus that the guest No 15 (Zayn Hakeem) was looking like a threat.  No sooner had the words left my gob than the perilous blighter was away on an eye-snagging run, cutting in and sending the ball homeward. 1 - 3 it was and this was a very good finish to the end of a sharp sortie that saw the player have only one thing on his mind.

Now the hosts were having to commit, we entered the frazzled gaspings with a header from the Wellingborough's Draper causing no further blemish on the scorecard.  Nantwich bounced back, Cina had the final pop of a move with the ball zooming up, up and away, a bit like the Nimble girl who needed a few extra crusts it seemed.  The last 5 minutes arrived and the team with the lead were still making most of the running.  Draper had a header go wide and things were looking too comfortable especially seeing that this was a cup game.

Into the dingly dell of added time, from out of the blue the home No 5 (Tom Graves) put in a cross and with the keeper hesitant, Kennedy waltzed in and buried a tidy header.  Thoughts of a serious smash and grab comeback came but were soon banished when the referee blew for full time several second later - ooh the rotten bugger, a few more minutes and who knows what may have transpired?  We headed homeward pleased with a good game though. I thought Wellingborough Town's No 4 (Rhys Kelly) deserved the Man of the Match shout, a player who was assured, conducted matters at his own pace and who read and dealt with any threats and who refused to get ruffled when attackers came his way.  Concrete stuff and mighty cool too!

FINAL THOUGHTS - A good day out watching a couple of teams I know little about.  Wellingborough Town seem to be on something of a roll and one can see why.  A very organised unit with 5 wins out of 5 in the Northern Premier League (Midlands).  That is a solid start and backed up by another cup win, could this be a season of undoubted success.  They look a resolute unit with many options, we shall see what is what and I do wonder if I can sneak in a trip to their ground very soon.  Nanthwich are in a lowly position in the Northern Premier League (West), it could be a case of a bit of bad luck with a surge to come or indeed, the sign of a long and awkward season ahead.  I see potential, but potential untapped is pointless and work needs to begi'

n to shore up the defences and sharpen up the apical components.  I really think this is a grand sent up, with some good mooching areas nearby and of course, a bookshop, we would be foolish not to return but, that darn dairy is bulging, and I have so many plans and so many teams who I like to visit - bugger.