25th October 2017 - Runcorn Town 0 v 2 Witton Albion - Work, home, hoovering, fungus recording, the good lady returned. Tea was exceptional, Ricotta filled pasta covered in pesto with a touch of truffle sauce - what a delicious dish it was. An easy drive was taken to The Pavilions, a cup of cha' was lovely as were the white chocolate cookies I had brought. We picked our spot in the stands, my wife read her book (Papillon - what a classic) and I scribbled these notes and, as they say, 'contemplated the hairs in my navel'. In fact, I have a hairless navel which has me wondering if I am some glabrous exception to the hirsute rule. Is this an abnormality and do I need to pop in to my local BBC (Belly Button Clinic) and seek some sagacious advice? It is all a worry but, hairless or not, my naval can hold as much steel blue fluff as the next man which is surely a positive in any umbillically obsessed circles. Anyway, I digress (again) and to the match we go with another cup clash on the cards, this time as part of the Cheshire Senior Cup. I knew little of the visitors so could come up with no cerebral insight into what may happen, I suggest you read on to find out!
7.45pm, the time for action...and the early play was all in and around the Runcorn box with a shot eventually coming through via the hoof of No 10 (Steve Tames). It was dragged wide but this was a bright commencement by the visiting bods with impressions given of a well drilled and disciplined outfit who look to play tidy football from the back to the front. A swift build up from the Albs came again and stretched the Runcorn pack no end. No 2 (Anthony Gardner) ran well, communicated and provided a low cross. It was a pity any potential takers were absent....we moved on. Gardner made more space with his quick feet and duly dumped a ball into the box, again no frontmen were to be seen in the crucial spot! As the half progressed a period of perspired effort came with little to get worked up about. Witton were the main holders of the command post but Runcorn had the odd hopeful thrust. One particularly promising moment saw a cross drilled across goal with pace but no crusts were there to connect - darn it. Runcorn had a better punt soon after when a throw and a flick allowed No 10 (Mark Reed) to ping one across the goal face and nearly find the far corner of the net - emphasis is placed on nearly by the way! Following this ray of hope for the hosts their guests created a high standard break from one side of the pitch to the other that involved paced passing, sugar sweet touches and sound awareness. The culmination of the move came when Tames struck firm but missed the target - oh you rotten bugger, that could have been some goal. Towards the latter half of this opening period Runcorn got back on a level footing and I did wonder how long it would be before Witton started to get overly frustrated. The referee blew his whistle, we would have to wait for an answer to the previous poser.
Myself and my good lady couldn't be arsed to move from our seats so we chomped a few cookies and awaited the teams to come back out for the second 45 minutes. It seemed like an age, surely the referee wasn't supplying a free-strip show to top up his nightly fee, this shit does happen tha' knows. In fact, I am sure he was wearing lipstick during the first half, or are my anxiety tablets causing fantastical visions again? Or, is this latex thong I am wearing affecting the circulation to the noggin - I knew it was a bad idea!
The teams re-appeared, an early defensive boo-boo by Witton allowed The Town's No 9 (Simon Thelwell) to chance a chip - close but no bacon butty mate. Runcorn came again, a lofted ball into the danger zone and Thelwell again connected, this time with the crust. The goalkeeper was wide awake, the save was made and from the corner the wild shot was way off the bull's-eye. A corner came the other end, the globe glided in, a bonse boomed and the bar was rattled, phew, the tide was rising and it was the players of Runcorn that were in danger of getting the ankles wet. Next, and after the home birds had fallen into the visitors offside mist net, the Albs came and their No 12 had a quality pop and was unlucky to quiver the horizontal - the pressure was now on. Time tickled, Witton rolled forth, No 7 (Micah Evans) danced on the wing, duly crossed and the finish that came was all to easy with the deadlock being broken by the in-rushing No 11 (James Foley). From here, and out of nothing, Witton won a corner. The ball came in, it was cleared but sprayed back across that allowed an unidentified visiting bod to shoot - close and the pressure was still on.
Runcorn scampered like hamsters suffering with anal wasps, a free kick was won, the ball went in and pinged back out with No 7 (Joe Holt) having time to place his shot. Somehow he got too much loft and the ball sailed high over the bar. The game was now an open affair, space was appearing, semi-chances were becoming more frequent. Witton Albion always had the upper hand though and with the final gasps now taking place a long ball fell at the feet of No 10 (Steve Tames) who grabbed, ran at a sharp angle and slotted home with classy ease. The final nail in the coffin was had, even Dracula would do well to rise from the deadened state Runcorn were now in. One last chance did come for the home squad, it was a free-kick and it was awful - the referee ended the Town's misery.
Man of the Match tonight was pondered like an aroused donkey's dongler - long and hard, and I finally opted for Witton Albion's No 6 (Paul Williams) who read the game well, was good in both defensive and midfield duties and supplied many a ball that opened up the inner workings of the opponents. Several players from the same squad caught the eye too, but I am happy with my selection - good one sir!
FINAL THOUGHT - League-wise there isn't too much between the units on show tonight but the evidence exhibited told a different tale. Witton dictated the play and looked to have just a sharper edge, a bit more pace and, quite crucially, a greater balance in the pack. Runcorn weren't at full strength though and despite several cup runs being halted of late they will be a different proposition to all league opponents. Unlike Rigsby's cardigan in Rising Damp, the Runcorn unit have very few holes to penetrate and like Moby Dick's ready rubbed member, they are a mighty handful when all muscles are pumping. Witton Albion have won this competition 11 times since 1902 and who is to say they won't add a 12th title this time around. Provided they stay tight, work as a unit and don't get too distracted by the referee's half time show and tell sessions they will be a hard nut to crack - I wish them well.
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