3rd October 2017 - Congleton Town 3 v 0 Irlam FC - Today I was, what is known as, to those of a vulgar slant, 'shagged out'. Several counties visited, 4 mushroom walks led, CD reviews piling up, work to be kept on top of and the 2 books I am working on being squeezed in here and there. Last night I organised a gig and so had 4 bands to sort and listen to and, as a result, got home too late for a fagged Fungalised fruitloop. It was a good gig though, the bands tore me 4 new arseholes which has caused something of a problem for the local posterior clinic - I really should keep away from there. Anyway, work sorted, chores sorted and off we set, with thoughts of fine underdog football, some fellow enthusiasts keen to support the cause and of course, the crucial Congleton Chips and tea - oh man, they are worth the trip alone. The car did trundle, the bellies did rumble, the traffic was fair so we had no reason to grumble and arrived, paid our dues and swooped on the snack bar like misunderstanding homosexuals on a 'Free Willy' DVD. We took up our positions, we watched the teams appear whilst we scoffed the ruddy excellent chips. The teams went back in and came back out, I began my scribblings and when deciphered I hope they reflect a match that was one I didn't expect.
The start was sketchy with a semi chance falling the home teams way but fluffed at the last by the ever keen No 10 (Declan Fletcher). It was close but just needed a firmer touch. Both teams examined one another's rears like 1970's council estate dogs with a bit of probing going on with no end impregnation. The sights needed resetting it seemed but the Congo started to bang on the Bongo with a little more gusto and the pressure built bore fruit when, after some saccharine interplay No 9 (Jason Carey) let fly and forced a corner kick. The ball was duly hoofed in, No 4 (Joshua Heaton) tapped forth with hope and the ball, in a looping fashion, struck the bar and brought gasps from the now warmed up onlookers. The Bears now growled, some great link up play was finalised with a hefty boomer - it flew just wide. Irlam were being pawed about here and they needed to claw back in before the first wound was inflicted. Again the Black and White pack advanced, the ball was duly held up in the near corner, a release was executed, No 2 (Joshua Farnworth) thumped one, we were getting close to the opening strike folks. More great Congleton football arose, a throw in, a cross, back in and another cross - the header was firm from Carey but still the scoresheet was without a scar.
A rare sortie forth by Irlam after a free-kick was somewhat gifted. The ball was delivered, a cute flick had but the keeper read matters well and saved with sanguinity. Next and No 11 (Jamie Tandy), Farnworth and No 3 (Richard Peters) came for The Congo, worked a dazzling move that was satin soccer incarnate. A cross cum shot by Peters was the end result and the mitter needed to be alert to stop his mesh from rippling with glory. No sooner had breath been gathered and another pace-riddled attack came, the winger streaking and shooting and forcing the keeper to save yet again. The ball went loose, No 8 (Steve Foster) pounced, the opening goal was had. Irlam now needed to get their rears in gear and stop this one way traffic. A rare excursion forth for the guests came, No 2 (Macauley Harewood) was on the wing, a knock back was made and No 10 (Matthew Boland) cut inside but the punt was very tame and deflated any hopes of an instant comeback. As the boys in blue fought to gain a foothold an absolute dream ball by Congo's Peters found a colleague on the far side of the pitch who obligingly crossed and allowed his team-mate (Jason Carey) to tap home. It was a well executed goal and one that led to Irlam being forced to take long pot shots with very little success. Congleton were in command right up until the half time whistle with Jamie Tandy and No 7 (William Hassler-Creg) always a threat with their superabundance of pace. The ref finally blew, this was looking like a walkover, I had expected something more competitive.
My wife and I sipped some tea, had a natter and pondered the creeping chill that was the portent of the winter to come.
The teams came back out, it was a fast and furious start no doubt looking to keep the autumnal chill at bay. Irlam were animated but no sooner had they gained command of the ball than that bothersome handful Declan Fletcher pilfered and passed. A shot flew in, count thy blessing oh lads from Manc Land that the game wasn't truly buried. Having nearly had their chips of promise pissed on Irlam still tried hard to sizzle up a reaction. Their No 10 (Matthew Boland) roamed and released. The shot forced a firm save with the mitter hoofing at once and finding Fletcher who turned and passed to Hassler-Cregg who provided a fine cross. Jason Carey raced in and stretched, somehow his toes couldn't make contact to poke home, and again the final nail in the coffin was missed. Next and it was Fletcher on the chase, he got the bonse down and charged for goal. Weaving with tempo he lost his feet but with determination regained them, he sniffed goal and walloped the globe. Bang, inside of the net hammered, now that is what you call a goal built on bollocks - well taken, well deserved. 3 - 0 and in brutal truth, a generous scoreline for the visitors.
Now the Irlam lads were losing discipline, a few reckless challenges failed to help the overall cause. Carey for The Town won the ball and got in a quick cross that saw Peters produce a diving header that made the keeper sprawl and save. Another careless foul and another Congleton bonus ball. No joy but Irlam were playing with fire with their todgers on show - never a wise thing to do - Confucious he say 'Man who dangle his dong over flame of nakedness will end up with blisters on privates' - so zip up Irlam and take care. The boys on a beating dug in, Boland had a couple of punts and the substitute (Isaac Illidge) dashed around with industry and striving to create a half chance. The game though went into a lull, even David Icke couldn't save Irlam's asses now and as Congo started to finish with further dominance and Farnworth offered up a speculative shot it was with great relief that the end whistle came and the game was done. There were many good stints from the Congleton Clan but I am going for the obvious and am giving the Man of the Match to (Declan Fletcher) who, like King Kong's testes, was a ruddy handful, and who, like Errol Flynn's nob on a pogo-stick, would not keep still and kept his opponents (onlookers) mesmerised. Good stint fella and you do it with a good head's down approach that is very much needed in a game that sometimes has a bit too much gob.
FINAL THOUGHT - I left this match in a temper and threw my Russel Grant Do It Yourself Prediction Ball in the bin. It said on the box I could see into the future and when I used the said globe of prophecy I was certain that this match would be a close encounter - ooh the corrupt git and relater of fibbery. To be fair though Congleton Town were hot spice tonight and played with zest, pace, awareness and, determination. They wanted this one, they worked hard and of course had some classy performances - never easy to deal with. Irlam were a disappointment and never really settled into any kind of rhythm. I expected them to put up a good showing, especially after using the aforementioned device (ooh I'll have that astrological bastard). I still think they will do fine as the season progresses but the wheels can easily fall off and stay there if attention is not paid. These 2 leagues are fascinating entertainment and one can never predict what will come next, what more could you ask for? To add, good on those young 'erberts for singing and chanting throughout, keep it happy and bright and enjoy the game, tis all worth the effort.
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