29th November 2016 - Stockport Town 3 v 1 Atherton LR - According to meteorologists this was the penultimate day of the autumnal period. A time when most leaves have fallen, the air has taken on a spiteful turn and the many football leagues are settling into a state of play that indicates how the season may well unfold. The wheat and the chaff are separated, those tempted by success teased further, those destined for a dogfight looking to dig in and get dirty - a fine time of year if you look at it from a characteristic and positive point of view. I duly arrived in good form (despite a nagging virus), got my cuppa, took a seat and awaited the first rotation of the globe. A mid-table team versus one from the bottom end - a duff or a delight could occur, here is my take.
A rapid start unfolded, Stockport had a few early chances with that pesky Nathan Neequaye stopped by a last gasp tackle and the No 2 (Kiarno Samms) slapping one goalward and sending out the early warning signals. Atherton started with a rather narrow formation but Stockport were only just shading things. The away lads came closest to opening the goal account with a deflected shot just looping wide and a header from the given corner producing the same outcome. Stockport probed, No 2 bombed another shot goalward but the netman was equal to it with a low save that kept the overall sheets clean. The half continued, Stockport had a weak penalty claim turned down after the efficient No 4 made a sterling run and flick manoeuvre that I certainly applauded. Atherton were proving a tough nut to crack though and created a certain frustration in the ranks of the Stockport crew with that driven No 2 being most infected and getting into some verbal nonsense with a spectator that became quite unnecessary. Head down mate, do your bit and enjoy! The upshot of this niggling resulted in a distraction to focus and as a result a fine long ball was played by an Atherton rear man that saw the leggy No 8 (Favour Imande) finish like a seasoned professional with casualness incarnate exhibited. A minute later it was only an offside flag that saved further blushes for the home pack as another long ball was latched onto and looked likely to lead to a doubling of the ALR advantage - unlucky indeed. Even though this chance indicated an away team advance it was Stockport who struck next after a pointless foul was committed and they won a bonus free kick. From this play they duly won a corner which led to an in-box scramble whereupon the frisky No 2 (yes, him again) snatched the equaliser and set up the game proper. Many one on one tussles were happening, there was some swift play from either side and when the ref blew for half-time it seemed as though we had an encounter to relish.
Half-time and after purchasing the customary cuppa and having a chat about Mince Pies with the lass in the kiosk lo and behold but a punk comrade from the grimy spiked circuit was saluted and a grand old chat was had. Paul Swinnerton (tour manager, memorabilia retailer, promoter and football addict) is a face I have known for a goodly while after attending his gigs back at The Royal Oak in Poulton-Le-Fylde, and what grand nights they were. Throughout the break and the second half we discussed various punk bands, the state of play and the ins and outs of the football ladder and a good old time it was. Cheers squire and who knows where we shall meet again - in the pit, on the touchline or at a record fair - all good stuff.
The second half was a hectic affair with no side gaining full control and chances sporadically dropping at the feet of many players. Stockport initially had the slight upper hand and had the first proper chance of doubling their own scoreline which was duly taken by the ever industrious No 2 again who was in the right place at the right time and did what was required. I had unfounded expectations of the boys from Laburnum Road falling to pieces at this point but this wasn't the case as they came forth and after 3 more minutes fired themselves right back into the game with a strike from the hustling David Moore. This was totally deserved and despite the difference in league places Atherton were more than holding their own. A balance now ensued with not much really happening but when a free-kick was played, the ball was given a superb angle to make for a defender's nightmare and it was duly expected when a Stockport bonse rose and nutted home the lead goal. James Hampson celebrated, the crowd of 46 were divided, would they get a grandstand finish? The answer was 'no' as both units grafted hard with no real effect. Composure was certainly the lacking ingredient for the away side and if only they had played things a little more steadily and not felt rushed when composing that crucial final ball I reckon they could have easily got back into this one. Stockport seemed to create more width towards the latter end of the game with their No 3 allowed to make several decent runs and stretch the defence of their opponents. It all came to nothing though and when the referee blew for time up it was just as well as the game had settled into something of a stalemate. My choice of Man of the Match is perhaps a controversial one as I am going for an Atherton Laburnum Road player. No 11 (Alex Guest) played a solid first half, hustled in the second and looked to have some neat feet, a quick thinking mind and proved to be a tricky customer whenever he was in possession. I like the eagerness to create play and the desire to get forward attitude - one to watch methinks.
FINAL THOUGHT - Tonight was one of those nights when you watch two teams who have potential to progress but seem to be in a process of just finding any true form and so making things more difficult than they appear. Atherton have talent but for me just lack cohesion and that final calmness of touch. Stockport work better as a unit but need to stay focused on the game and be supportive of each other so as to gain maximum results for their efforts. The teams may stay as they are come season end and they should both feel disappointed if they do so. Fingers crossed a good push comes and, like a pregnant fat lady about to drop the sprog, birth is given to a new ray of hope.
Wednesday 30 November 2016
Sunday 27 November 2016
MIST, MAGIC MUSHROOMS AND AWAY DAY MISERY
26th November 2016 - Sandbach Utd 1 v 3 Charnock Richard - The HT household have all been bugged up of late and are a trifle frazzled to say the least. As a result my lasses went and relaxed with a shopping jaunt that included tea and cake - ooh! I decided to head to Sandbach and so caught the train down from a sunny Stockport Station to a fog-heavy destination that put doubts in my mind as to whether or not the game would go ahead. I walked the mile to the ground, purchased a cup of tea and a cheese burger (ooh nom, ruddy nom) and awaited, with all the other punters, the ref's decision. It was touch and go, a potential pea souper was on the cusp and as 3.00pm approached the decision was up in the air. The ref waited, debated and contemplated whilst I finished my burger and masticated and then, a tentative 'all systems go' was given - hoorah for the man in black. I wandered to the far side of the ground, bang on the centre line as per and awaited the two soccer squadrons to go to war.
A settling in period came with no real opening apparent until, out of the grey, a low scything pass sliced the Charnock defence and allowed the fleet footed striker to neatly place the ball in the back of the net and give the home team an early lead. Almost immediately after this goal was taken Sandbach had another chance but the goalie was down at the attacker's feet and did just enough to keep things as they were. Charnock then produced an attack of their own which ended in a half-arsed shot that was easily dealt with. However, within seconds a penalty was won after a rapid break put Sandbach at sixes and sevens. The pen was duly slapped home by Nathan Fairhurst and the game was definitely now on - phew! The match now developed into a hardy fest of push and shove with no team attaining any form of dominance. A few choice tackles came from both sides when suddenly, out of the far side mist, came a cross, a bald bonse rose high and the ball was nutted home - Charnock now had their frost bitten peckers in front. They could have added another moments later but a squander was had and the cake failed to get that extra icing. Sandbach worked hard, they strove to get back into this one but the tussle and hustle continued and the half came to and end with many wondering if the teams would return after the interval.
A cup of tea was enjoyed as well as a chat with a nice chap who was wandering the grounds and, like me, ended up at this foggy nowhere-land. Whilst wandering back to the clubhouse I found a couple of specimens of Psilocybe semilanceata, namely the Magic Mushroom and I did wonder if I ingested them then perhaps the fog would turn to pink fairy dust and be blown away by the sweet breath of semi-clad fairies - I stuck with the tea instead. And back to the touchline...
A scrappy opening bout manifested itself, both sides were like a skeleton on amphetamines and were just lacking width and composure. Jackdaws called in the distance, a Redwing muttered from an invisible bush, the teams huffed and puffed with no reward. All at once Sandbach were on the attack, they looked zoned in but things fizzled out and Charnock were up for the counterpunch. A long ball was there for the taking - striker and netter were closing in, a 50/50 moment - the keeper just got there. Alas though he was in no man's land, Mark Adams mopped up and from all of 25 yards chipped the keeper and gave his side a two goal cushion. Sandbach dug deep, a shot came from an acute angle but the netman was down for it and saved well. Immediately another cracking effort flew goalward and again the man with the mitts produced a firm save which was followed by a goal line chance that was duly sent Heavenward. A bit of a disagreement between Charnock's players was stupid and could have led to a loss of concentration and here a lesson should be learned - stay focused, support each other, work as a positive encouraging unit chaps. Now the mist thickened slightly, at times the play was indiscernible and the ball would appear out of nowhere with players in pursuit. Chances came, a goal line clearance, a few shots just off target and one or two stray passes that nearly led to a break away but in truth, all was balanced and Sandbach still had a chance, that is until on the 74th minute the referee wandered into the grey invasive moisture, had a chat with his lines-man and then, shock, horror - blew for full time and called the game off. Uproar, disbelief, consternation - a decision to debate, a controversy to consider - what the hell! Shit happens, the day was done. Throughout the game I was blessed by the company of the aforementioned groundhopper and when he offered me a lift back to the train station I took it with both appreciative hands - how kind! Man of the Match today (if it matters) for me anyway must go to the keeper (Adam Halton) for Charnock Richard who made several crucial saves at some very decisive moments and gave his team the platform on which to build and keep the game in their control - good work in tricky conditions dude!
FINAL THOUGHT - Would one attempt to play a game of marbles on a bed of smashed glass? Would one carry on with a swimming gala if the pool was full of free-floating turds? Would a Greco-Roman wrestling bout be allowed to continue if both combatants were sporting 10 inch erections? And indeed, should this match have gone ahead in such precarious conditions and was the referee correct in his final decision? These are all moot matters, fodder for the gossips, tasty titbits for us keen football followers to nibble on. For me the referee should have rolled with things and let the game go for the full 90 minutes. It was sheer cruelty to a good away team to call things to a halt on the 74th minute but, there you go and as much as the away team and fans were disgruntled I bet the home lot were utterly delighted. Such is the state of play when boomerangs are bent and swing with bias - tis all fruity stuff and we wouldn't have it any other way.
A settling in period came with no real opening apparent until, out of the grey, a low scything pass sliced the Charnock defence and allowed the fleet footed striker to neatly place the ball in the back of the net and give the home team an early lead. Almost immediately after this goal was taken Sandbach had another chance but the goalie was down at the attacker's feet and did just enough to keep things as they were. Charnock then produced an attack of their own which ended in a half-arsed shot that was easily dealt with. However, within seconds a penalty was won after a rapid break put Sandbach at sixes and sevens. The pen was duly slapped home by Nathan Fairhurst and the game was definitely now on - phew! The match now developed into a hardy fest of push and shove with no team attaining any form of dominance. A few choice tackles came from both sides when suddenly, out of the far side mist, came a cross, a bald bonse rose high and the ball was nutted home - Charnock now had their frost bitten peckers in front. They could have added another moments later but a squander was had and the cake failed to get that extra icing. Sandbach worked hard, they strove to get back into this one but the tussle and hustle continued and the half came to and end with many wondering if the teams would return after the interval.
A cup of tea was enjoyed as well as a chat with a nice chap who was wandering the grounds and, like me, ended up at this foggy nowhere-land. Whilst wandering back to the clubhouse I found a couple of specimens of Psilocybe semilanceata, namely the Magic Mushroom and I did wonder if I ingested them then perhaps the fog would turn to pink fairy dust and be blown away by the sweet breath of semi-clad fairies - I stuck with the tea instead. And back to the touchline...
A scrappy opening bout manifested itself, both sides were like a skeleton on amphetamines and were just lacking width and composure. Jackdaws called in the distance, a Redwing muttered from an invisible bush, the teams huffed and puffed with no reward. All at once Sandbach were on the attack, they looked zoned in but things fizzled out and Charnock were up for the counterpunch. A long ball was there for the taking - striker and netter were closing in, a 50/50 moment - the keeper just got there. Alas though he was in no man's land, Mark Adams mopped up and from all of 25 yards chipped the keeper and gave his side a two goal cushion. Sandbach dug deep, a shot came from an acute angle but the netman was down for it and saved well. Immediately another cracking effort flew goalward and again the man with the mitts produced a firm save which was followed by a goal line chance that was duly sent Heavenward. A bit of a disagreement between Charnock's players was stupid and could have led to a loss of concentration and here a lesson should be learned - stay focused, support each other, work as a positive encouraging unit chaps. Now the mist thickened slightly, at times the play was indiscernible and the ball would appear out of nowhere with players in pursuit. Chances came, a goal line clearance, a few shots just off target and one or two stray passes that nearly led to a break away but in truth, all was balanced and Sandbach still had a chance, that is until on the 74th minute the referee wandered into the grey invasive moisture, had a chat with his lines-man and then, shock, horror - blew for full time and called the game off. Uproar, disbelief, consternation - a decision to debate, a controversy to consider - what the hell! Shit happens, the day was done. Throughout the game I was blessed by the company of the aforementioned groundhopper and when he offered me a lift back to the train station I took it with both appreciative hands - how kind! Man of the Match today (if it matters) for me anyway must go to the keeper (Adam Halton) for Charnock Richard who made several crucial saves at some very decisive moments and gave his team the platform on which to build and keep the game in their control - good work in tricky conditions dude!
FINAL THOUGHT - Would one attempt to play a game of marbles on a bed of smashed glass? Would one carry on with a swimming gala if the pool was full of free-floating turds? Would a Greco-Roman wrestling bout be allowed to continue if both combatants were sporting 10 inch erections? And indeed, should this match have gone ahead in such precarious conditions and was the referee correct in his final decision? These are all moot matters, fodder for the gossips, tasty titbits for us keen football followers to nibble on. For me the referee should have rolled with things and let the game go for the full 90 minutes. It was sheer cruelty to a good away team to call things to a halt on the 74th minute but, there you go and as much as the away team and fans were disgruntled I bet the home lot were utterly delighted. Such is the state of play when boomerangs are bent and swing with bias - tis all fruity stuff and we wouldn't have it any other way.
Thursday 24 November 2016
CAPRICIOUS CUP CRACKER
23rd November 2016 - West Didsbury & Chorlton 5 v 3 Padiham FC - The lasses had been spending dosh and got home late so, as a result, I was dropped off at the ground after the planned kick-off time (serves me right for not being a driver - bah). Luckily for me the game had been delayed by 15 minutes so I only had a brief wait before the match started which gave no time for old Charlie Chill to kiss my privates with his spiteful frosted lips - the deviant little bugger. The night was as black as a pygmies goolies, the grass slightly yellowing like Oliver Reeds skin after another notorious bender and when the announcer did his bit over the tannoy, the two teams appeared and I prepared for this 2nd round tie of the Lancashire Challenge Cup.
The home lads started with the greatest illumination and posted an early warning shot that strayed wide but set the early intentions of the WDC crew. Soon after another opportunity arose when a cross caused chaos resulting in a punch by the keeper and a follow-up shot that went straight back into the net-mans arms. Padiham eventually began to work back in and won a couple of free headers that came to nothing and kept things all square. The manager was far from happy though and his resonating gob filled the parky air with thermal irritation. The frustration was well founded and proof was ascertained when West Didsbury and Chorlton's No 2 lobbed in a sweet ball that was connected with but again fired...just wide. Padiham responded with a thumping shot in return but the ball flashed over - the game was warming up. The away team were scrapping, they were making the match a manky affair and all seemed to resemble something akin to a chess match played in a meadow of shite - unappealing but perversely fascinating. Although the home team were in ascendancy I fancied Padiham to purloin a goal from somewhere has their aerial threat seemed ready to pay off. These thoughts nearly bore fruit has a fine swift counter-assault was created after some acute passing and a terse spell of pressure that was finalised with a crust making contact with the battered globe that flew just past the post. Close but no bacon butty and within seconds West Didsbury played the most simplest of moves from back to front that saw the deadlock broken and Ash Woods take his first goal of the night. As I scribbled my notes and looked up Padiham were on a last ditch attack which came to zilch whereupon their opponents broke again, played a couple of simple balls and wham, the lead was doubled as was the strikers tally for the night. A good finish to a tough half of football and when the ref blew his whistle the ones in attendance made haste to get those much needed refreshments.
It goes without saying that a cup of cha' was purchased and ruddy enjoyed as well as a good old Twix. During the half time break a young chap accosted me and bombarded me with verbals about his ground-hopping antics, the dubious characters of his home town, the gay based threats he felt were all around him and his suspicions of mass poisoning in Glossop that was sending all the residents insane. What a lad and what an imagination.
Segment 2, the action was fast, the teams came out rejuvenated - the midway pep talks had done the business. Things were well balanced, Padiham were still in this but when West Didsbury's No 11 weaved a merry dance down the line and pinged the ball into the danger zone up popped that ruddy Ash Woods again and cracked home his 3rd of the evening and strengthened his teams grip on the jugular of this game. The away lads could have crumbled at this point but they hoofed back in with the goal of the game that saw their No 10 holding up the ball on the edge of the box, working a lateral line and then passing to his team mate who cracked home with aplomb, applause for Joseph Whittington I say, applause. No sooner had The Storks pecked their way back in than West Didsbury went down the other end and struck back and made it 4 - 1. By heck, this Frankensteinian monster of football just got a double dose of voltage up its arse and it was now stomping with real vibrant energy. I got my breath, took stock and then...make that 4 - 2, Aaron Taylor grabbed a goal and kept things very much alive and kicking. Note taken, kick off, 2 minutes passed and a free kick won. Aim taken, assessment had, ball floated and the net rippled, this time Gary Hunter of Padiham scoring a stunner and suddenly there was one goal in it - fantastic stuff. Padiham were now hustling hard, West Didsbury were looking to break, from amid the hard fluster a throw in was taken by Padiham, the bounce was unpredictable, a holler went up for 'Handball', the ref gave the nod, fuckin' hell (ooh pardon me, it' s the excitement tha' knows) - penalty and pressure on. Silence, would it be 4 goals all or would things turn sour for the away team. The ball was hoofed, it went low, the keeper dropped to his left - saved! We stayed as we were. Padiham now needed balls as big as King Kong to stay in this and when West Didsbury won a free kick on the edge of the box I for one expected the worst. Slap, 5 goals to 3, Joe Shaw got his just deserts and ripped the guts out of the away team who had done so darn well to make a game of this. The Padiham bench was incensed, a dubious tackle added salt to an open wound, things became incandescent and words spilled with passion. Something untoward was said, the Padiham Manager was given his marching orders and off he strode, steam rising, blood still surging. The game became a grind out and the last few minutes were hard work but when the whistle blew I think both teams deserved a good round of applause for their efforts. Man of the Match today shall be given to (Joe Shaw) of West Didsbury and Chorlton, he put in an industrious work load, flitted here and there, was a real menace at times and topped things off with a goal - what more could you ask for.
FINAL THOUGHT - Another cup match, one that came to life and proved to be a ruddy good do. It is a case of cup fever at the moment with many tournaments taking place and making for one busy period for these non-league doofers. The value for money you get is astounding and for DIY dogs such as me who have a punk streak yearning for things real and unaffected this is as close as I'll get in the soccer theme. These two teams tonight contributed to a fine exhibition of gutsy, unpredictable footy and hopefully they will be getting a few more views and reviews from me before the season is finished.
The home lads started with the greatest illumination and posted an early warning shot that strayed wide but set the early intentions of the WDC crew. Soon after another opportunity arose when a cross caused chaos resulting in a punch by the keeper and a follow-up shot that went straight back into the net-mans arms. Padiham eventually began to work back in and won a couple of free headers that came to nothing and kept things all square. The manager was far from happy though and his resonating gob filled the parky air with thermal irritation. The frustration was well founded and proof was ascertained when West Didsbury and Chorlton's No 2 lobbed in a sweet ball that was connected with but again fired...just wide. Padiham responded with a thumping shot in return but the ball flashed over - the game was warming up. The away team were scrapping, they were making the match a manky affair and all seemed to resemble something akin to a chess match played in a meadow of shite - unappealing but perversely fascinating. Although the home team were in ascendancy I fancied Padiham to purloin a goal from somewhere has their aerial threat seemed ready to pay off. These thoughts nearly bore fruit has a fine swift counter-assault was created after some acute passing and a terse spell of pressure that was finalised with a crust making contact with the battered globe that flew just past the post. Close but no bacon butty and within seconds West Didsbury played the most simplest of moves from back to front that saw the deadlock broken and Ash Woods take his first goal of the night. As I scribbled my notes and looked up Padiham were on a last ditch attack which came to zilch whereupon their opponents broke again, played a couple of simple balls and wham, the lead was doubled as was the strikers tally for the night. A good finish to a tough half of football and when the ref blew his whistle the ones in attendance made haste to get those much needed refreshments.
It goes without saying that a cup of cha' was purchased and ruddy enjoyed as well as a good old Twix. During the half time break a young chap accosted me and bombarded me with verbals about his ground-hopping antics, the dubious characters of his home town, the gay based threats he felt were all around him and his suspicions of mass poisoning in Glossop that was sending all the residents insane. What a lad and what an imagination.
Segment 2, the action was fast, the teams came out rejuvenated - the midway pep talks had done the business. Things were well balanced, Padiham were still in this but when West Didsbury's No 11 weaved a merry dance down the line and pinged the ball into the danger zone up popped that ruddy Ash Woods again and cracked home his 3rd of the evening and strengthened his teams grip on the jugular of this game. The away lads could have crumbled at this point but they hoofed back in with the goal of the game that saw their No 10 holding up the ball on the edge of the box, working a lateral line and then passing to his team mate who cracked home with aplomb, applause for Joseph Whittington I say, applause. No sooner had The Storks pecked their way back in than West Didsbury went down the other end and struck back and made it 4 - 1. By heck, this Frankensteinian monster of football just got a double dose of voltage up its arse and it was now stomping with real vibrant energy. I got my breath, took stock and then...make that 4 - 2, Aaron Taylor grabbed a goal and kept things very much alive and kicking. Note taken, kick off, 2 minutes passed and a free kick won. Aim taken, assessment had, ball floated and the net rippled, this time Gary Hunter of Padiham scoring a stunner and suddenly there was one goal in it - fantastic stuff. Padiham were now hustling hard, West Didsbury were looking to break, from amid the hard fluster a throw in was taken by Padiham, the bounce was unpredictable, a holler went up for 'Handball', the ref gave the nod, fuckin' hell (ooh pardon me, it' s the excitement tha' knows) - penalty and pressure on. Silence, would it be 4 goals all or would things turn sour for the away team. The ball was hoofed, it went low, the keeper dropped to his left - saved! We stayed as we were. Padiham now needed balls as big as King Kong to stay in this and when West Didsbury won a free kick on the edge of the box I for one expected the worst. Slap, 5 goals to 3, Joe Shaw got his just deserts and ripped the guts out of the away team who had done so darn well to make a game of this. The Padiham bench was incensed, a dubious tackle added salt to an open wound, things became incandescent and words spilled with passion. Something untoward was said, the Padiham Manager was given his marching orders and off he strode, steam rising, blood still surging. The game became a grind out and the last few minutes were hard work but when the whistle blew I think both teams deserved a good round of applause for their efforts. Man of the Match today shall be given to (Joe Shaw) of West Didsbury and Chorlton, he put in an industrious work load, flitted here and there, was a real menace at times and topped things off with a goal - what more could you ask for.
FINAL THOUGHT - Another cup match, one that came to life and proved to be a ruddy good do. It is a case of cup fever at the moment with many tournaments taking place and making for one busy period for these non-league doofers. The value for money you get is astounding and for DIY dogs such as me who have a punk streak yearning for things real and unaffected this is as close as I'll get in the soccer theme. These two teams tonight contributed to a fine exhibition of gutsy, unpredictable footy and hopefully they will be getting a few more views and reviews from me before the season is finished.
Monday 21 November 2016
THE STRANGE CASE OF DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE
19th November 2016 - Maine Road FC 2 v 1 Barnoldswick Town - A last minute change of plan saw me arrive at Brantingham Road, have a quick fungal mooch at a nearby churchyard and get a well needed cup of cha and a Twix to while away the time before kick-off. I expected Maine Road to win this one and there to be quite a few goals on show but who knows what these Non-Leagues games can throw in the way of surprises. Anyway, the game went ahead and what transpired went something like this.
Kick off, the ball got rolling with both teams immediately settled into their roles. It was a tidy start with the first chance falling to Road's No 8 who, after a liquid move from a quick throw in, shot low and hard across goal and saw the ball fly just wide. Besides this near miss both teams were giving little away and were as tight as Charlton Heston's chuff on a frosty night. My early thoughts regarding a goal fest were evaporating fast and I pondered the prospect of a real close tug-of-war that would see little give either way. Maine Road were playing the flanks, Barnoldswick were going for a more central option - the question was were would the first crack appear and who would take advantage. The grind out continued, Barnoldswick looked concrete at the rear but the home chaps created another half chance that finished in yet another shot dragged just wide. They seemed to be getting their eye in and when they pushed forth again one expected a goal to come. It did but unfortunately for the boys in blue it came Barnoldswicks way after a pacey breakaway down one wing saw a sharp pass played and a tight shot squeezed home on the near post by their No 9 Mark Threlfall - a real well taken slot in it was too. Maine Road looked to respond from the kick off and by heck they did just that with a slick multi-pass triangle created and leading to a chance for their No 8 (Matthew Morgan) who fired sweetly home - boom, bang, have that - 1 -1.
Barnoldswick now needed to re-organise, did just that and had a long shot sent forth that just whizzed wide and showed that the game was still there for grabbing by the goolies. The home team now started to find their passing tootsies and moved up a slight notch by stringing together some quite choice moves. An example of this one touch manoeuvring was what led to a free kick being won which in turn saw some quick mesmeric play make room for a shot to come and the lead goal to be snatched. Stand up Richard Williams and take a bow! Barnoldswick could have felt hard done by but they beavered onwards and held things steady despite Maine Road really playing some fancy stuff but just over-elaborating things and thus cocking up the potential. 2 chances came for the visitors, one blocked at close range by the net man and the other whooshing wide with warning aplenty. To and fro and back and forth with opportunities in abundance for another goal but with the home team on the front foot and coming mighty close to grabbing a third the whistle came and a chance to re-warm the carcass arose. I took it with both perished hands.
Tea, chinwags, back to the action.
Here the change came and here we witnessed the home squad go into the changing rooms as one beast and come out another. The team who were looking to force their hand and assert their ascendancy now fell prey to Barnoldswick's grit and determination and, in truth, spent the greater part of the next 45 minutes hanging on to a precarious lead. The away sides No 9 fed off his teammates hunger and tested the netter's mitts early on and followed up with another shot that just missed the target. Mayhem ensued in Road's half, the No 8 for Barnoldswick was a menace and got a shot in too, forcing the No 1 to reach high and just tip over. The maelstrom was whipped up, Maine Road were in the trenches and fought like desperate dogs and when a goalkeeping shout led to confusion the equaliser looked to be all but on the cards. Not so, Barnoldswick squandered opportunities, time ticked by and pressure built at both extremes. Now at the back end a few glimpses of a sucker punch fell at the feet of the blue boys but the guests ground things out, would not give in and contributed to a good old game of exerting football. The one way traffic was continuous though and applause, for both teams defensive and attacking attributes as well as their dogged determination, must be given. We were suddenly in the last few minutes, now both units became ragged - a goal via a mistake would be cruel either way - it never transpired and when the referee blew it seemed just as well, although a score draw would have been a very fair result. Man of the Match could have been given to one of many but I shall opt for Maine Road's No 3 (Joshua Tinker), the coolest head on the pitch, a good organiser with an in-built discipline and always alert to chances be it from a position at the back, in the middle or front of the park or from a throw in!
FINAL THOUGHT - As stated in the title of this blog this was tale of two manifestations, a match of many faces and one that indicated how things can quickly change if the powers of focus aren't properly harnessed. It did make for a fascinating encounter and left me pondering where on earth these two teams may end up. They both have good spirit so should be fine and dandy but, consistency is the key and that should be their main aim throughout each and every match. As per, my visit to Brantingham Road was a pleasure and I will be back several more times this season that is for sure!
Kick off, the ball got rolling with both teams immediately settled into their roles. It was a tidy start with the first chance falling to Road's No 8 who, after a liquid move from a quick throw in, shot low and hard across goal and saw the ball fly just wide. Besides this near miss both teams were giving little away and were as tight as Charlton Heston's chuff on a frosty night. My early thoughts regarding a goal fest were evaporating fast and I pondered the prospect of a real close tug-of-war that would see little give either way. Maine Road were playing the flanks, Barnoldswick were going for a more central option - the question was were would the first crack appear and who would take advantage. The grind out continued, Barnoldswick looked concrete at the rear but the home chaps created another half chance that finished in yet another shot dragged just wide. They seemed to be getting their eye in and when they pushed forth again one expected a goal to come. It did but unfortunately for the boys in blue it came Barnoldswicks way after a pacey breakaway down one wing saw a sharp pass played and a tight shot squeezed home on the near post by their No 9 Mark Threlfall - a real well taken slot in it was too. Maine Road looked to respond from the kick off and by heck they did just that with a slick multi-pass triangle created and leading to a chance for their No 8 (Matthew Morgan) who fired sweetly home - boom, bang, have that - 1 -1.
Barnoldswick now needed to re-organise, did just that and had a long shot sent forth that just whizzed wide and showed that the game was still there for grabbing by the goolies. The home team now started to find their passing tootsies and moved up a slight notch by stringing together some quite choice moves. An example of this one touch manoeuvring was what led to a free kick being won which in turn saw some quick mesmeric play make room for a shot to come and the lead goal to be snatched. Stand up Richard Williams and take a bow! Barnoldswick could have felt hard done by but they beavered onwards and held things steady despite Maine Road really playing some fancy stuff but just over-elaborating things and thus cocking up the potential. 2 chances came for the visitors, one blocked at close range by the net man and the other whooshing wide with warning aplenty. To and fro and back and forth with opportunities in abundance for another goal but with the home team on the front foot and coming mighty close to grabbing a third the whistle came and a chance to re-warm the carcass arose. I took it with both perished hands.
Tea, chinwags, back to the action.
Here the change came and here we witnessed the home squad go into the changing rooms as one beast and come out another. The team who were looking to force their hand and assert their ascendancy now fell prey to Barnoldswick's grit and determination and, in truth, spent the greater part of the next 45 minutes hanging on to a precarious lead. The away sides No 9 fed off his teammates hunger and tested the netter's mitts early on and followed up with another shot that just missed the target. Mayhem ensued in Road's half, the No 8 for Barnoldswick was a menace and got a shot in too, forcing the No 1 to reach high and just tip over. The maelstrom was whipped up, Maine Road were in the trenches and fought like desperate dogs and when a goalkeeping shout led to confusion the equaliser looked to be all but on the cards. Not so, Barnoldswick squandered opportunities, time ticked by and pressure built at both extremes. Now at the back end a few glimpses of a sucker punch fell at the feet of the blue boys but the guests ground things out, would not give in and contributed to a good old game of exerting football. The one way traffic was continuous though and applause, for both teams defensive and attacking attributes as well as their dogged determination, must be given. We were suddenly in the last few minutes, now both units became ragged - a goal via a mistake would be cruel either way - it never transpired and when the referee blew it seemed just as well, although a score draw would have been a very fair result. Man of the Match could have been given to one of many but I shall opt for Maine Road's No 3 (Joshua Tinker), the coolest head on the pitch, a good organiser with an in-built discipline and always alert to chances be it from a position at the back, in the middle or front of the park or from a throw in!
FINAL THOUGHT - As stated in the title of this blog this was tale of two manifestations, a match of many faces and one that indicated how things can quickly change if the powers of focus aren't properly harnessed. It did make for a fascinating encounter and left me pondering where on earth these two teams may end up. They both have good spirit so should be fine and dandy but, consistency is the key and that should be their main aim throughout each and every match. As per, my visit to Brantingham Road was a pleasure and I will be back several more times this season that is for sure!
Tuesday 15 November 2016
MONDAY NIGHT MESSINESS
14th November 2016 - Winsford United 1 v 3 Hanley Town - On a warm and misty night we arrived at The Barton Stadium looking forward to a fixture that could go either way as both teams were in the lower half of the Premier League and still looking to build any real football flow. Chips and tea were indulged in first though and a chat was taken with a Norwegian guy who was over this end doing a bit of groundhopping as well as a natter with an enthused lass who was selling teams on her football card and also travelling around the grounds - by heck these folk don't half get about. Time tickled forth and we wandered to the far side of the pitch and took up our positions.
Hanley commenced proceedings with a brighter flourish and a couple of early sub-chances showed that they meant business tonight. The first of these goal glimpses should have been buried but full marks must be given to the home keeper who was up with the lark and on his keen and eager tootsies. As things progressed a lot of moaning and groaning was apparent with both sides spending too much time bitching and too little playing anything resembling decent football. Thank goodness for all in attendance that on the 13th minute a cross was woefully defended and a free header was nutted home by Hanley's Daniel Cope and the deadlock was broken and the first spark of life given to an almost inert soccerised carcass. Moments later a further jolt of energy was induced into the footballing framework when Hanley were awarded a free kick and up stepped Jonathon Sheldon to coolly float the globe home and give his squad a much deserved 2 goal cushion. The quality of the game rose slightly but for me Hanley were the only team in it and always appeared that little bit sharper than their out of sync opponents. Several attacks came and fizzled out like farts in a vacuum and the score stayed the same primarily down to Hanley's failure to completely tear out an exposed jugular rather than Winsford's defensive qualities. In fact it was an indication of the defensive frailties of the home side that led to the third goal for Hanley when a certain clearance was messed up, a cross was borne from a situation seemingly lost and up popped Johnathon Higham and put the game well and truly to bed. The half time whistle came not long after, Winsford needed to get back in and regroup and Hanley just needed to stay focused and see the next 45 minutes out.
Me and my good lady switched sides, partook of some festive chocolate and rested our busy bods.
Winsford came out for half two with rectal rockets roaring but were immediately sobered after Hanley's weaving No 7 slotted through a scrumptious ball that saw the No 9 casually connect only to be denied by the wide awake net man. Winsford retaliated, had a half chance smothered and in the next breath they won a good free kick, put in a smart cross and a crust from nowhere connected and a goal was dragged back, Harry Brazel was the man with the midas touch. A spark was all that was needed to get the game smouldering and another free-kick was immediately won but the ambitious overhead was skewed skyward and we stayed as we were. Winsford could now taste promise, the game became tit-for-tat, tussle and bustle and out of the great bewildering blue...shock, horror, Winsford had found the net again, a scruffy goal but perfectly decent, so why on earth did the referee decide it was a case of 'no goal'. The decision was both brutal and crucial and added spice to a game ready to overflow. Heated debates both on and off the pitch erupted, Hanley worked hard to try and deaden Winsford's potential sting in the tail with a couple of corners holding threat and a breakaway chance missed and keeping the potency within the match. Frustration raised its spiteful head as the game became messy and when heads addled and handbags and purses were brandished the referee decided after a bit of pushing and shoving and lunatic hair pulling that 2 Hanley players were in high need of an early bath. Oh the silly bastards! Winsford could now smell blood, Hanley could taste potential embarrassment in the air and 7 minutes of mayhem should have brought much to write home about but, once again. due to lack of composure and quality, it didn't. Time, chances and breath were all wasted and as Hanley hassled, Winsford withered and the ref said enough is enough. Man of the Match was hard to find tonight but due to his constant threat, potential to cause further damage and an eagerness to chase any old ball Hanley's No 9 (Jonathon Higham) gets the nod.
FINAL THOUGHT - This match was far from a classic and at the end of the day is best summed up as an example of two units still trying find true balance and looking to find their settled footballing feet. If these two teams don't pick-up soon they could find themselves swinging lower than Arthur Mullard's testicular sac which would, I am thoroughly sure, be far from acceptable in a league of great opportunity. If duds of focus are donned though, a jockstrap of cohesion tightened then maybe, just maybe, the plums of success may still bear true fruit - I shall be watching closely.
Hanley commenced proceedings with a brighter flourish and a couple of early sub-chances showed that they meant business tonight. The first of these goal glimpses should have been buried but full marks must be given to the home keeper who was up with the lark and on his keen and eager tootsies. As things progressed a lot of moaning and groaning was apparent with both sides spending too much time bitching and too little playing anything resembling decent football. Thank goodness for all in attendance that on the 13th minute a cross was woefully defended and a free header was nutted home by Hanley's Daniel Cope and the deadlock was broken and the first spark of life given to an almost inert soccerised carcass. Moments later a further jolt of energy was induced into the footballing framework when Hanley were awarded a free kick and up stepped Jonathon Sheldon to coolly float the globe home and give his squad a much deserved 2 goal cushion. The quality of the game rose slightly but for me Hanley were the only team in it and always appeared that little bit sharper than their out of sync opponents. Several attacks came and fizzled out like farts in a vacuum and the score stayed the same primarily down to Hanley's failure to completely tear out an exposed jugular rather than Winsford's defensive qualities. In fact it was an indication of the defensive frailties of the home side that led to the third goal for Hanley when a certain clearance was messed up, a cross was borne from a situation seemingly lost and up popped Johnathon Higham and put the game well and truly to bed. The half time whistle came not long after, Winsford needed to get back in and regroup and Hanley just needed to stay focused and see the next 45 minutes out.
Me and my good lady switched sides, partook of some festive chocolate and rested our busy bods.
Winsford came out for half two with rectal rockets roaring but were immediately sobered after Hanley's weaving No 7 slotted through a scrumptious ball that saw the No 9 casually connect only to be denied by the wide awake net man. Winsford retaliated, had a half chance smothered and in the next breath they won a good free kick, put in a smart cross and a crust from nowhere connected and a goal was dragged back, Harry Brazel was the man with the midas touch. A spark was all that was needed to get the game smouldering and another free-kick was immediately won but the ambitious overhead was skewed skyward and we stayed as we were. Winsford could now taste promise, the game became tit-for-tat, tussle and bustle and out of the great bewildering blue...shock, horror, Winsford had found the net again, a scruffy goal but perfectly decent, so why on earth did the referee decide it was a case of 'no goal'. The decision was both brutal and crucial and added spice to a game ready to overflow. Heated debates both on and off the pitch erupted, Hanley worked hard to try and deaden Winsford's potential sting in the tail with a couple of corners holding threat and a breakaway chance missed and keeping the potency within the match. Frustration raised its spiteful head as the game became messy and when heads addled and handbags and purses were brandished the referee decided after a bit of pushing and shoving and lunatic hair pulling that 2 Hanley players were in high need of an early bath. Oh the silly bastards! Winsford could now smell blood, Hanley could taste potential embarrassment in the air and 7 minutes of mayhem should have brought much to write home about but, once again. due to lack of composure and quality, it didn't. Time, chances and breath were all wasted and as Hanley hassled, Winsford withered and the ref said enough is enough. Man of the Match was hard to find tonight but due to his constant threat, potential to cause further damage and an eagerness to chase any old ball Hanley's No 9 (Jonathon Higham) gets the nod.
FINAL THOUGHT - This match was far from a classic and at the end of the day is best summed up as an example of two units still trying find true balance and looking to find their settled footballing feet. If these two teams don't pick-up soon they could find themselves swinging lower than Arthur Mullard's testicular sac which would, I am thoroughly sure, be far from acceptable in a league of great opportunity. If duds of focus are donned though, a jockstrap of cohesion tightened then maybe, just maybe, the plums of success may still bear true fruit - I shall be watching closely.
Sunday 13 November 2016
PARAKEETS, PERSPIRATION AND PASSION
12th November 2016 - West Didsbury and Chorlton FC 2 v 2 AFC Liverpool - After many decisions as to which match to attend it was at The Recreation Ground I found myself in weather that had turned quite decent. The early crowd came and then the last minute rush and I awaited proceedings with a cup of tea and watching a few Ring Necked Parakeets squawk and soar nearby. The pitch looked as green as the parakeets plumage and as greasy as Albert Steptoe's underpants (ooh the nasty little bleeder) and I reckon it was ideal for a good game of early winter footy - the digits were crossed.
Kick off and it was a blur of fast action early on with the visitors asking the early questions via a few attacks and a free-kick. The home chaps responded instantaneously with a break-away that led to a low save at the feet of one player and the loose ball being thudded against the upright and bringing extra life to a game dripping with potential. Only 10 minutes were registered on the ticker when the first goal came from seemingly nowhere. An hopeful ball was punted forth, the crust of an unnamed defender for AFC Liverpool laid it back to the netter, I blinked and looked on, the ball trickled into the net - own goal, 1 - 0 to home birds. The game was now well and truly ignited. The 2nd goal came 3 minutes later with a sharp corner nutted home via the bonse of Ash Woods and suddenly West Didsbury and Chorlton were 2 goals to the good. A fan waved his rattle, 5 Ring Necked Parakeets took to the air and did a brief flyover and it was now up to AFC Liverpool to get back into this one. The away lads still played with patience from back to front and maybe were guilty of over-complicating matters against a sturdy looking squad. To AFC's credit they urged each other on, imposed themselves onto the game and caused a good in-box scramble that could have easily dropped their way and brought about a retrieving goal. The WDC crew held firm, remained that tough nut to crack. Talking of nuts, the first chills of the impending evening manifested themselves and crept beneath my lower garments and warned my privates of greater frosts to come - ooh heck. The half now flat-lined, AFC Liverpool had a lack of composure, West Didsbury had a well-drilled defence and after a neat move by the the away teams No 7 ended in a save the response came and a close range shot screamed over the bar and should have been buried and put the game to bed - one of those most certainly to be regretted methinks. The game was far from finished though and the half ended with WDC having two more close efforts and the Liverpool lot looking to get back into the changing rooms and regroup. Peep, peep!
A chomp on the choccy, a pause for thought and a consideration of what part 2 would bring - re-enter the combatants.
The opening segment of this second period was a horrid session of play with no fluency, numerous mistakes and an hindering injury to the home teams winger. These 3 aspects, one would suspect, would prove beneficial to the trailing team and maybe allow them to squeak back in. This feeling was well founded when a sweet pass from Liverpool's midfield found their zippy No 7 (Emini Adegbenro) who weaved around a defender and slotted home a really sweet goal. Just what the doctor of football ordered! Just as the game looked to be turning the home sides No 7 escaped the defence, rushed forth with focus and fired a blistering shot that disappointingly flew just over the bar. It deserved better but still warned AFC Liverpool not to get too carried away with their new found belief. Blood pressure and temperament now rose, the affair was developing into a real ding dong fixture with both sides striving to add to their personal score card. Several half chances came either way, the excitement levels were peaking, it was still anyone's match. Eventually though things once more leveled out with each team needing one final shove. My money was on the WDC machine to nick another and when they strung a fine three pass manoeuvre together I felt sure a goal was imminent. Alas the shot was another one that went Heavenward. Liverpool responded, a shot bounced back off the keeper and nearly at the feet of an incoming glory seeker - close, but still no equalising bacon. A moment of magic was needed and when that pesky No 7 of Liverpool's whizzed forth, a cool cross was delivered and all No 10 (Freddy Champion) had to do was slot the ball home - he did just that and the game was all square. After this all that was needed was one outstanding moment from either team to pinch it, it didn't materialise and when the final whistle sounded I thought a fair result was had. My choice for Man of the Match today goes to AFC Liverpool's No 8 (Paul Speed), a scrapping little soldier who ran himself ragged, made some quality decisions and moves and was an integral part in getting his team back on level terms.
FINAL THOUGHT - Both teams today have many applaudable facets and have a willingness to dig in and fight for all they get. The problem is, this league has a few tasty sides in it that are beginning to pull away at the top and have things all their own way. The season is long, there is much work to be done and maybe, with a bit of luck, sincere graft and greater cohesion in the ranks one of these units can still make a genuine impression. Good luck to them both and thank you to the home fans today who really do liven things up for all concerned.
Kick off and it was a blur of fast action early on with the visitors asking the early questions via a few attacks and a free-kick. The home chaps responded instantaneously with a break-away that led to a low save at the feet of one player and the loose ball being thudded against the upright and bringing extra life to a game dripping with potential. Only 10 minutes were registered on the ticker when the first goal came from seemingly nowhere. An hopeful ball was punted forth, the crust of an unnamed defender for AFC Liverpool laid it back to the netter, I blinked and looked on, the ball trickled into the net - own goal, 1 - 0 to home birds. The game was now well and truly ignited. The 2nd goal came 3 minutes later with a sharp corner nutted home via the bonse of Ash Woods and suddenly West Didsbury and Chorlton were 2 goals to the good. A fan waved his rattle, 5 Ring Necked Parakeets took to the air and did a brief flyover and it was now up to AFC Liverpool to get back into this one. The away lads still played with patience from back to front and maybe were guilty of over-complicating matters against a sturdy looking squad. To AFC's credit they urged each other on, imposed themselves onto the game and caused a good in-box scramble that could have easily dropped their way and brought about a retrieving goal. The WDC crew held firm, remained that tough nut to crack. Talking of nuts, the first chills of the impending evening manifested themselves and crept beneath my lower garments and warned my privates of greater frosts to come - ooh heck. The half now flat-lined, AFC Liverpool had a lack of composure, West Didsbury had a well-drilled defence and after a neat move by the the away teams No 7 ended in a save the response came and a close range shot screamed over the bar and should have been buried and put the game to bed - one of those most certainly to be regretted methinks. The game was far from finished though and the half ended with WDC having two more close efforts and the Liverpool lot looking to get back into the changing rooms and regroup. Peep, peep!
A chomp on the choccy, a pause for thought and a consideration of what part 2 would bring - re-enter the combatants.
The opening segment of this second period was a horrid session of play with no fluency, numerous mistakes and an hindering injury to the home teams winger. These 3 aspects, one would suspect, would prove beneficial to the trailing team and maybe allow them to squeak back in. This feeling was well founded when a sweet pass from Liverpool's midfield found their zippy No 7 (Emini Adegbenro) who weaved around a defender and slotted home a really sweet goal. Just what the doctor of football ordered! Just as the game looked to be turning the home sides No 7 escaped the defence, rushed forth with focus and fired a blistering shot that disappointingly flew just over the bar. It deserved better but still warned AFC Liverpool not to get too carried away with their new found belief. Blood pressure and temperament now rose, the affair was developing into a real ding dong fixture with both sides striving to add to their personal score card. Several half chances came either way, the excitement levels were peaking, it was still anyone's match. Eventually though things once more leveled out with each team needing one final shove. My money was on the WDC machine to nick another and when they strung a fine three pass manoeuvre together I felt sure a goal was imminent. Alas the shot was another one that went Heavenward. Liverpool responded, a shot bounced back off the keeper and nearly at the feet of an incoming glory seeker - close, but still no equalising bacon. A moment of magic was needed and when that pesky No 7 of Liverpool's whizzed forth, a cool cross was delivered and all No 10 (Freddy Champion) had to do was slot the ball home - he did just that and the game was all square. After this all that was needed was one outstanding moment from either team to pinch it, it didn't materialise and when the final whistle sounded I thought a fair result was had. My choice for Man of the Match today goes to AFC Liverpool's No 8 (Paul Speed), a scrapping little soldier who ran himself ragged, made some quality decisions and moves and was an integral part in getting his team back on level terms.
FINAL THOUGHT - Both teams today have many applaudable facets and have a willingness to dig in and fight for all they get. The problem is, this league has a few tasty sides in it that are beginning to pull away at the top and have things all their own way. The season is long, there is much work to be done and maybe, with a bit of luck, sincere graft and greater cohesion in the ranks one of these units can still make a genuine impression. Good luck to them both and thank you to the home fans today who really do liven things up for all concerned.
Monday 7 November 2016
RED MEN RUN RIOT
5th November 2016 - Whitchurch Alport 4 v 0 Alsager Town FC - Myself and my good lady had been attacked by the icy wind for 4 hours prior to this match as we led a group of 10 people on a fungal hunt in the open spaces of Cheshire. The pre-match chips were a crucial necessity to fight off a bit of the chill but as we sat prepared for the opening 45 minutes of footy we fell victim to a sniping cross breeze and dithered away. The football had better be good or a run for the car would be the option taken. To add, today's match was in the Reusch First Division Cup, 2nd Round South - so there!
The start was patchy and did little to raise the spirits. Alsager pushed hardest, Whitchurch busied themselves trying to gain a foothold but the initial play was primarily in the midfield and was nothing short of miserable. The first promise was shown by a Whitchurch move that tested the keeper and resulted in a very justifiable penalty claim. The crowd shouted, the ref ignored and a free-kick was given on the edge of the box. Slap, top corner, No 11 (Mike Blundell) produced a fine goal that was made to look easy and the deadlock was cracked open. The away chaps now worked more vigorously with the best chance being a hopeful free-kick that was connected with but the resulting shot cruised wide and we stayed as we were. Besides the goal, quality was a scarce commodity but when a Whitchurch bod ran the wing, weaved inwards and brought about the second goal (Alex Hughes take a bow), things looked to become alight and a good old cup match was on the cards (surely). Whitchurch didn't read the script and maintained control and no matter how much Alsager forced the issue the glimpses they did get of goal were marred by some absolutely woeful finishing. The half ended and I found myself with little else to scribble - best get a cup of tea and move to the other side of the pitch for half two.
The second half came and saw the home team get the first shot in which led to a goalkeeping fumble. The ensuing corner was wasted but within seconds the goalkeeper slipped up again (literally this time) and the howler of the season was a distinct possibility but luckily for the No 1 it was the side netting that rippled from the error and not the place he was dreading. On Whitchurch came, the move of the match was had with the No 3 taking the ball from the rear to the halfway line, smacking a cross-field beauty to his No 7 colleague who took it to the brink, placed a cross that caused panic which allowed a shot to be drilled in and saved. The loose ball was there to be latched onto and from 2 yards out the globe was...skied - by heck what a miss. Alsager took hope from this let off, had several attempts of their own but their finishing boots were as cold as the day itself with misdirected shots aplenty. Whitchurch were now pulling the strings, stretching their opponents and creating many gaps. Their No 11 produced a cracking shot that brought a fingertip save and had Alsager gasping once more but, as the lucky escapees threw themselves forth, the Red Men broke again with two fouls being overlooked and play allowed to carry on that led to the third goal being sunk and Matthew Ashbrook taking the plaudits despite the offside decision controversy. Alsager now looked ragged but even so, with better accuracy, could have snuck a few goals back and still had hope. A fine example of their fortunes though was had when they were awarded a penalty and the shot, even though on target for a change, was saved. The match summed up in several seconds - cripes, football is a warped world indeed. Moments later salt was rubbed in Alsager's open wound with a long ball not dealt with and up popped the Whitchurch striker, Matthew Ashbrook again, who buried the ball to bring up a quite unexpected 4 - 0 scoreline. Nothing else of note occurred, the game was done and when the last whistle sounded we applauded a good home performance and made for the warmth of the car. Man of the Match, the Whitchurch No 2 (Nick Marley) who caught my eye (no not in that way you dirty minded devils) played well from back to front, was never afraid to carefully work an opening, threaded many a good ball and made a few well-timed runs that led to many cracks in the opponents armour. Remember, as well that what is done off the ball is equal to that done on it - hence my choice.
FINAL THOUGHT - Despite the scoreline there were 2 good sides on show today with the titty of fortune only dangling one way and allowing one side to take its fill. I feel Whitchurch have much to offer on many fronts and seem to be well rehearsed in their requirements as a team and how to work as a complete unit. Alsager have some hefty buggers in their side and will always pose problems and if they have a good rummage in their closet of hope they should find some decent shooting boots for the rest of the campaign. If so, they will be up there in the league, fighting for promotion and making life uncomfortable for many.
The start was patchy and did little to raise the spirits. Alsager pushed hardest, Whitchurch busied themselves trying to gain a foothold but the initial play was primarily in the midfield and was nothing short of miserable. The first promise was shown by a Whitchurch move that tested the keeper and resulted in a very justifiable penalty claim. The crowd shouted, the ref ignored and a free-kick was given on the edge of the box. Slap, top corner, No 11 (Mike Blundell) produced a fine goal that was made to look easy and the deadlock was cracked open. The away chaps now worked more vigorously with the best chance being a hopeful free-kick that was connected with but the resulting shot cruised wide and we stayed as we were. Besides the goal, quality was a scarce commodity but when a Whitchurch bod ran the wing, weaved inwards and brought about the second goal (Alex Hughes take a bow), things looked to become alight and a good old cup match was on the cards (surely). Whitchurch didn't read the script and maintained control and no matter how much Alsager forced the issue the glimpses they did get of goal were marred by some absolutely woeful finishing. The half ended and I found myself with little else to scribble - best get a cup of tea and move to the other side of the pitch for half two.
The second half came and saw the home team get the first shot in which led to a goalkeeping fumble. The ensuing corner was wasted but within seconds the goalkeeper slipped up again (literally this time) and the howler of the season was a distinct possibility but luckily for the No 1 it was the side netting that rippled from the error and not the place he was dreading. On Whitchurch came, the move of the match was had with the No 3 taking the ball from the rear to the halfway line, smacking a cross-field beauty to his No 7 colleague who took it to the brink, placed a cross that caused panic which allowed a shot to be drilled in and saved. The loose ball was there to be latched onto and from 2 yards out the globe was...skied - by heck what a miss. Alsager took hope from this let off, had several attempts of their own but their finishing boots were as cold as the day itself with misdirected shots aplenty. Whitchurch were now pulling the strings, stretching their opponents and creating many gaps. Their No 11 produced a cracking shot that brought a fingertip save and had Alsager gasping once more but, as the lucky escapees threw themselves forth, the Red Men broke again with two fouls being overlooked and play allowed to carry on that led to the third goal being sunk and Matthew Ashbrook taking the plaudits despite the offside decision controversy. Alsager now looked ragged but even so, with better accuracy, could have snuck a few goals back and still had hope. A fine example of their fortunes though was had when they were awarded a penalty and the shot, even though on target for a change, was saved. The match summed up in several seconds - cripes, football is a warped world indeed. Moments later salt was rubbed in Alsager's open wound with a long ball not dealt with and up popped the Whitchurch striker, Matthew Ashbrook again, who buried the ball to bring up a quite unexpected 4 - 0 scoreline. Nothing else of note occurred, the game was done and when the last whistle sounded we applauded a good home performance and made for the warmth of the car. Man of the Match, the Whitchurch No 2 (Nick Marley) who caught my eye (no not in that way you dirty minded devils) played well from back to front, was never afraid to carefully work an opening, threaded many a good ball and made a few well-timed runs that led to many cracks in the opponents armour. Remember, as well that what is done off the ball is equal to that done on it - hence my choice.
FINAL THOUGHT - Despite the scoreline there were 2 good sides on show today with the titty of fortune only dangling one way and allowing one side to take its fill. I feel Whitchurch have much to offer on many fronts and seem to be well rehearsed in their requirements as a team and how to work as a complete unit. Alsager have some hefty buggers in their side and will always pose problems and if they have a good rummage in their closet of hope they should find some decent shooting boots for the rest of the campaign. If so, they will be up there in the league, fighting for promotion and making life uncomfortable for many.
Thursday 3 November 2016
THE CRUELTY OF THE CUP
2nd November 2016 - Cheadle Town 2 v 4 Runcorn Town - A good tea, 2 CD reviews put on the website, an episode of Steptoe and Son and a walk down to Park Road for another dabbling in the Cheshire Senior Cup. The weather was fresh but nothing too dramatic and after a chat with the dude on the gate I took up my customary position and awaited the match. Not a bad turn-out for a Wednesday night too - here's hoping we all get entertained.
The match got underway bang on time and with both teams scurrying hard and looking to get that important initial grip on the gonads of the game it came as a surprise when Cheadle were suddenly 2 goals to the good with only 6 minutes on the timepiece. The first was a cross cum shot that glided over the keeper and opened Cheadle's account, and that of Luke Hincks, whilst the second resulted from a chanced through ball that was chased down by the pace riddled Sam Noar who slotted home with calm aplomb doubling the home teams lead - a wake up call for all it was! Within seconds of the kick-off Runcorn could have easily pulled one back but the counterattack ended in a low shot just sliding disappointingly wide! What a high action start! Runcorn now started to bust guts and attempted, with all their might, to worm back into the game proper but Cheadle remained fairly compact and were more than motivated for this fixture. A soccer ping pong manifested itself with a lot of to-ing and fro-ing with no real end result. Runcorn's No 2 (Matty Woodward) looked most likely to provide an opening as the width he created and extra option all oozed promise and when he received the ball in his own half, dashed forth it was no surprise that the ensuing play led to Runcorn pulling one back through player of the moment Craig Cairns. A few seconds later a mirror image of the goal creating move came and it was down to luck and dogged effort that Cheadle held on to their lead by the skin of their overstretched soccerised scrotums - oooh heck. The game was still anyone's but Cheadle had a glaring chance to restore the two goal cushion but a skied shot was a shocker and made sure Runcorn still had hope. Tetchiness and tiredness were creeping in at this point and when the referee blew for half time I thought it just as well as the game was losing its flow somewhat, just like a bladder that has been kicked a little too hard for its own good.
I couldn't be arsed to queue for a drink at half time so made do with a gob full of fruity Skittles - nom, nom. The temperature was dropping and I pondered two of Larry Grayson's imaginary foils namely Everard and Slack Alice. On a night like this you would do well to stay ever hard and young Alice had better not leave herself too slack or a hypothermic attack would be the consequence. Ooh I digress, such is the imagination.
Onwards and the second half came with instantaneous Runcorn pressure bringing a brace of half chances that both went spare but rekindled belief. Cheadle would not be suppressed though and after a corner led to an in-box scramble the ill-composed shot was a real disappointment and the keeper easily did his bit and kept things as per. Cheadle pushed again, a cracking move indeed and as glory beckoned a shot came and the Heavens accepted a ballooned effort and somewhat smirked at the real duff dig. The game settled, lots of work, a lack of decisive quality, Cheadle probed and, when their No 5 (Liam Tonge) fizzed one just wide, it looked like it could be a case of his side rueing their missed chances. One hoped not! Things became messy, a goal was needed and when Runcorn's No 9 mis-hit a cross and scummed what appeared to be a grand looking goal the game was suddenly all square. If the scorer, Simon Thelwall, tries to claim this as a goal of the season candidate please feel free to have him sectioned under the False Goals Act 1922 - ooh the jammy bugger. Luck or no luck Runcorn deserved to get back in it and no sooner had fortune favoured the ones dipped in sugar than that keen and dangerous No 10 popped up again and knocked in another and turned the game arse over tit. One could almost feel the disappointment in the home fans hearts and their team did well to dig in and try and force their way back into a still precariously balanced match. Cheadle pushed, Runcorn hung on, a bit of sauce came and the referee did well to maintain order. The kitchen sink came and was duly thrown, surely an equaliser was imminent but no, Runcorn strung two perfectly sublime and accurate passes together and Joe Holt bagged the 4th goal in the 90th minute and left Cheadle as dead men gasping. Still Cheadle had a few chances but the end came and another 6 goal thriller was done. Man of the Match for me was Runcorn's No 2 (Matty Woodward), he may be getting on a bit but he is a wise old git who gets into space, makes many a good run and is always alert as to where his teammates are both at the rear and at the fore. Never give in squire!
FINAL THOUGHT - Cheadle Town are one of those teams who never fail to surprise. When they are on the back foot there is always a chance they can grab a win, when on the front foot they are always liable to snatch defeat from the lucky bag of victory. In fact, if they tossed a coin and were asked to call for heads or tails I am sure the said monetary unit would land on its side and confound all. Such is life. They are warming to the seasons requirements though and will avoid any real bother whereas Runcorn, if they stay injury free and keep working like stallions on steroids, will set the pace for all and sundry and no doubt steal one or two honours along the way - I hope so!
The match got underway bang on time and with both teams scurrying hard and looking to get that important initial grip on the gonads of the game it came as a surprise when Cheadle were suddenly 2 goals to the good with only 6 minutes on the timepiece. The first was a cross cum shot that glided over the keeper and opened Cheadle's account, and that of Luke Hincks, whilst the second resulted from a chanced through ball that was chased down by the pace riddled Sam Noar who slotted home with calm aplomb doubling the home teams lead - a wake up call for all it was! Within seconds of the kick-off Runcorn could have easily pulled one back but the counterattack ended in a low shot just sliding disappointingly wide! What a high action start! Runcorn now started to bust guts and attempted, with all their might, to worm back into the game proper but Cheadle remained fairly compact and were more than motivated for this fixture. A soccer ping pong manifested itself with a lot of to-ing and fro-ing with no real end result. Runcorn's No 2 (Matty Woodward) looked most likely to provide an opening as the width he created and extra option all oozed promise and when he received the ball in his own half, dashed forth it was no surprise that the ensuing play led to Runcorn pulling one back through player of the moment Craig Cairns. A few seconds later a mirror image of the goal creating move came and it was down to luck and dogged effort that Cheadle held on to their lead by the skin of their overstretched soccerised scrotums - oooh heck. The game was still anyone's but Cheadle had a glaring chance to restore the two goal cushion but a skied shot was a shocker and made sure Runcorn still had hope. Tetchiness and tiredness were creeping in at this point and when the referee blew for half time I thought it just as well as the game was losing its flow somewhat, just like a bladder that has been kicked a little too hard for its own good.
I couldn't be arsed to queue for a drink at half time so made do with a gob full of fruity Skittles - nom, nom. The temperature was dropping and I pondered two of Larry Grayson's imaginary foils namely Everard and Slack Alice. On a night like this you would do well to stay ever hard and young Alice had better not leave herself too slack or a hypothermic attack would be the consequence. Ooh I digress, such is the imagination.
Onwards and the second half came with instantaneous Runcorn pressure bringing a brace of half chances that both went spare but rekindled belief. Cheadle would not be suppressed though and after a corner led to an in-box scramble the ill-composed shot was a real disappointment and the keeper easily did his bit and kept things as per. Cheadle pushed again, a cracking move indeed and as glory beckoned a shot came and the Heavens accepted a ballooned effort and somewhat smirked at the real duff dig. The game settled, lots of work, a lack of decisive quality, Cheadle probed and, when their No 5 (Liam Tonge) fizzed one just wide, it looked like it could be a case of his side rueing their missed chances. One hoped not! Things became messy, a goal was needed and when Runcorn's No 9 mis-hit a cross and scummed what appeared to be a grand looking goal the game was suddenly all square. If the scorer, Simon Thelwall, tries to claim this as a goal of the season candidate please feel free to have him sectioned under the False Goals Act 1922 - ooh the jammy bugger. Luck or no luck Runcorn deserved to get back in it and no sooner had fortune favoured the ones dipped in sugar than that keen and dangerous No 10 popped up again and knocked in another and turned the game arse over tit. One could almost feel the disappointment in the home fans hearts and their team did well to dig in and try and force their way back into a still precariously balanced match. Cheadle pushed, Runcorn hung on, a bit of sauce came and the referee did well to maintain order. The kitchen sink came and was duly thrown, surely an equaliser was imminent but no, Runcorn strung two perfectly sublime and accurate passes together and Joe Holt bagged the 4th goal in the 90th minute and left Cheadle as dead men gasping. Still Cheadle had a few chances but the end came and another 6 goal thriller was done. Man of the Match for me was Runcorn's No 2 (Matty Woodward), he may be getting on a bit but he is a wise old git who gets into space, makes many a good run and is always alert as to where his teammates are both at the rear and at the fore. Never give in squire!
FINAL THOUGHT - Cheadle Town are one of those teams who never fail to surprise. When they are on the back foot there is always a chance they can grab a win, when on the front foot they are always liable to snatch defeat from the lucky bag of victory. In fact, if they tossed a coin and were asked to call for heads or tails I am sure the said monetary unit would land on its side and confound all. Such is life. They are warming to the seasons requirements though and will avoid any real bother whereas Runcorn, if they stay injury free and keep working like stallions on steroids, will set the pace for all and sundry and no doubt steal one or two honours along the way - I hope so!
Wednesday 2 November 2016
MORE CHILL THAN THRILL
1st November 2016 - Stockport Town 0 v 6 Crewe Alexandra - I turned up early to this match tonight and felt the tendrils of Jack Frost creep into my framework and set about turning my todge, and other parts, to level 'tingle'. By heck the weather had changed all of a sudden and the half time cuppa was already anticipated. Tonight's footballing escapade was a preliminary round of the Cheshire Senior Cup and I couldn't help smile at the cup's title as Crewe were obviously fielding so many fresh faced youngsters - ah the joys of aging eyes, a niggling bastard it is!
The players came onto the dew laden pitch, their breath puffed forth and the ball was warmed up by many a kick and many a whack. The initial play saw Crewe apply themselves with a greater lubrication in the system whilst Stockport worked with industry and, against the general flow, nearly stole the early lead after a wide pass was played, a cross pushed in and a knock home just failed to find the awaiting net. From here the match levelled out and Crewe probed with many carving passes cutting through the vulnerable flesh of the Stockport defence only to be denied full blooded glory by an 'on-the toes' keeper who kept the scoreline blank with several decent saves. The tide did seem to be swinging the way of the swifter away unit but a free kick from Stockport led to a close-in flick that was disappointingly straight at the keeper but still displayed the fact that Crewe would be ill-advised to switch off the gas. Still Crewe probed, they looked to that long ball option time and time again and it was one of these lengthy testers that led to a disputed offside missed and the liberated ball being retrieved and crossed with Tom Lowery of Crewe popping up to tap in on the 40th minute and cripple the home teams hopes of going into the dressing room all square. The last few minutes ticked by, the ref decided he needed a warm-up and the half ended with many scooting towards the karsi's, the bar and the open hole in the wall were the blessed tea was served with a smile.
I shifted my arse, pointed the acorn at the basin (tis cold tha' knows), acquired a cuppa and sat back down sipping the precious steaming liquid - ooh and I had a couple of chunks of a raisin and biscuit Yorkie Bar - cracking stuff!
Part two soon began and Stockport had a fine opening chance with their No 11 storming forth, creating an opportunity but being denied glory by a goalkeeper who did well to be alert so early on and crush any chance of a kickback. A trio of hold-ups impeded the early session of the second half and in some respects knocked a little breath out of the fans and a game that seemed to be floundering. More semi-chances came at each end but ended in disappointment and one felt that we were going to see out the remaining time with no further net ripplers. The atmosphere remained as flat as a witches tit, offsides were plentiful and when a scrambled ball was pinged about in Stockport's box it was with some relief that a pot-shot was squeezed home by Callum Ainley. The goalies fumble was a shame though as he had had a good match up til now. The restart came and no sooner had the score of 2 -0 registered before it was 3 up for Crewe with a stunning long ball finding Crewe's No 11 (Charlie Kirk) who nonchalantly lobbed the keeper and put the game to rest. Stockport now tried to steady the sinking ship but a tired defensive error saw the ever busy Callum Saunders pilfer possession, make a surging run and nail the fourth in the 80th minute. A very unfair scoreline I thought and moments later another faux pas added to the disparity of decency with Daniel Udoh snatching the fifth and then, 5 minutes later grabbing his second and bringing up the rather flattering half dozen for the one's known as The Railwaymen. Stockport were now mere spectators and fell apart at the ragged seams and when 90 minutes was up I think it was just as well and stopped more salt being added to the ever widening wound. Man of the Match could have gone to several Stockport players and a few Crewe combatants but I will go for the pacey No 11 (Charlie Kirk) of Crewe who always looked a threat, moved with directness and enthusiasm and who finished his goal with that extra touch of quality not really prevalent in tonight's match.
FINAL THOUGHT - Like the pendulous titties of an aging Dolly Parton there was, on paper at least, a noteable gulf between the two clashing elements tonight. Despite this, and the fact that there was a 6 goal difference when time was called, I thought Stockport did ruddy well, were well organised on the whole and provided enough positivity to take with them into the bread and butter of the season proper. Again I make a comparison, the 6 - 0 scoreline was akin to a political speech, it appears as one thing but in reality is something else entirely which makes for one way of reasoning - never trust the so-called facts and listen to the neutral observer if you get the chance.
The players came onto the dew laden pitch, their breath puffed forth and the ball was warmed up by many a kick and many a whack. The initial play saw Crewe apply themselves with a greater lubrication in the system whilst Stockport worked with industry and, against the general flow, nearly stole the early lead after a wide pass was played, a cross pushed in and a knock home just failed to find the awaiting net. From here the match levelled out and Crewe probed with many carving passes cutting through the vulnerable flesh of the Stockport defence only to be denied full blooded glory by an 'on-the toes' keeper who kept the scoreline blank with several decent saves. The tide did seem to be swinging the way of the swifter away unit but a free kick from Stockport led to a close-in flick that was disappointingly straight at the keeper but still displayed the fact that Crewe would be ill-advised to switch off the gas. Still Crewe probed, they looked to that long ball option time and time again and it was one of these lengthy testers that led to a disputed offside missed and the liberated ball being retrieved and crossed with Tom Lowery of Crewe popping up to tap in on the 40th minute and cripple the home teams hopes of going into the dressing room all square. The last few minutes ticked by, the ref decided he needed a warm-up and the half ended with many scooting towards the karsi's, the bar and the open hole in the wall were the blessed tea was served with a smile.
I shifted my arse, pointed the acorn at the basin (tis cold tha' knows), acquired a cuppa and sat back down sipping the precious steaming liquid - ooh and I had a couple of chunks of a raisin and biscuit Yorkie Bar - cracking stuff!
Part two soon began and Stockport had a fine opening chance with their No 11 storming forth, creating an opportunity but being denied glory by a goalkeeper who did well to be alert so early on and crush any chance of a kickback. A trio of hold-ups impeded the early session of the second half and in some respects knocked a little breath out of the fans and a game that seemed to be floundering. More semi-chances came at each end but ended in disappointment and one felt that we were going to see out the remaining time with no further net ripplers. The atmosphere remained as flat as a witches tit, offsides were plentiful and when a scrambled ball was pinged about in Stockport's box it was with some relief that a pot-shot was squeezed home by Callum Ainley. The goalies fumble was a shame though as he had had a good match up til now. The restart came and no sooner had the score of 2 -0 registered before it was 3 up for Crewe with a stunning long ball finding Crewe's No 11 (Charlie Kirk) who nonchalantly lobbed the keeper and put the game to rest. Stockport now tried to steady the sinking ship but a tired defensive error saw the ever busy Callum Saunders pilfer possession, make a surging run and nail the fourth in the 80th minute. A very unfair scoreline I thought and moments later another faux pas added to the disparity of decency with Daniel Udoh snatching the fifth and then, 5 minutes later grabbing his second and bringing up the rather flattering half dozen for the one's known as The Railwaymen. Stockport were now mere spectators and fell apart at the ragged seams and when 90 minutes was up I think it was just as well and stopped more salt being added to the ever widening wound. Man of the Match could have gone to several Stockport players and a few Crewe combatants but I will go for the pacey No 11 (Charlie Kirk) of Crewe who always looked a threat, moved with directness and enthusiasm and who finished his goal with that extra touch of quality not really prevalent in tonight's match.
FINAL THOUGHT - Like the pendulous titties of an aging Dolly Parton there was, on paper at least, a noteable gulf between the two clashing elements tonight. Despite this, and the fact that there was a 6 goal difference when time was called, I thought Stockport did ruddy well, were well organised on the whole and provided enough positivity to take with them into the bread and butter of the season proper. Again I make a comparison, the 6 - 0 scoreline was akin to a political speech, it appears as one thing but in reality is something else entirely which makes for one way of reasoning - never trust the so-called facts and listen to the neutral observer if you get the chance.
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