FRIDAY FROLICS

10th November 2017 - West Didsbury & Chorlton 3 v 5 Irlam FC - A Friday night match is a rare event for me, in fact it is as uncommon as a Bishop without a police conviction, a wrestler without an acting award or a pygmy without piles (it's the short legs don't ya know).  I finished my weekly working chores, cycled home, chilled, had tea with my good lady and arrived at the ground in plenty of time.  Pop was slurped, I read the latest 'Butterfly' magazine and I made pre-match notes whilst wondering what the outcome would be.  Both teams, on their day, are mightily efficient and are capable of some eye-catching football.  I hoped this affair would be something akin to Rustie Lee's knockers on a trampoline - a clash of the titans.  I say this not because I have a fondness for Ms Lee ( I am more a Fanny Craddock man myself - ooh them flap-jacks) but because I had visions of two hefty units slapping together and making some quite impressive aftershocks - perhaps I do need to up the tranquiliser dosage. Anyway, the blues and the stripes came out, the 3 black clad officials led the way, all took up their positions and the aural signal to begin play was made.

The start was zipping, No 7 (Marcus Perry) of Irlam was particularly industrious but, despite the guests huff and puff, it was the hosts who had the first cross and header towards goal, alas it was over and we punters had to wait for the first strike.  Some sloppy Irlam defending allowed WDC a free punt, it came to sour FA but the pressure now came and a good ball in found No 9 (Thomas Bailey) who fired and earned a corner.  The ball was hoofed, mayhem erupted, a clearance followed and Irlam were cultivating a superb passing move that saw Perry liberated. He bobbed, weaved, crossed and somehow the incoming striker didn't bury the globe in the mesh.  A startling miss.  Irlam came again, a shabby end shot deflated the bench and brought words of blue.  The next attack was sharper and No 9 (Connor Martin) won a chase and passed allowing No 10 (Matthew Boland) to tidily tap home.  Within a few wanks of the watch the visiting blues were marauding forth again with some quite clinical passing.  The strike came, the executioner was the deserving Marcus Perry, it was a quite eye-grabbing goal.  Irlam looked set to dominate but an error in the rear allowed Bailey to pilfer, prepare and ping.  The ball flew in, 1-2 - what a fine game we were witnessing, what madness did the evening hold.

No sooner had my pen left the paper than Perry for Irlam was trespassing in his opponents territory.  He switched feet, cut in, took too long to unload - the shot was duly blocked. Somehow from so much promise and control, the guests who were pregnant with threat, let the muscles relax and gave birth to the disappointing runt known as disaster. They were hustled out of possession, a shot in was parried and the loose ball was gobbled up by the poaching Bailey to grab his own, and his sides, second goal of the game.  All square we were, this was a beauty.  I expected that to be that for the first 45 but Irlam had an arse full of ants and just couldn't stay inactive for very long.  Perry was in the mix again, constant pressure reached danger levels, Perry had grabbed another - by heck man, get me the Tramadol, me head's spinning.  There was only 1 minute left on the clock, the globe was in the WDC box again and half cleared, waiting was No 11 (Danny Greene).  He set to shoot, changed his mind and then apparently thought 'sod it'.  A shot cum chip was the result - oh yes, goal of the game, what a pip, 2-4 - the ref blew, I needed a reality check.

As the teams headed off I had a wander to the opposite side of the ground, nattered with a hopper and slurped some Ribena.  

The second half started with Perry of Irlam running and having a peek at goal, his end choice was wrong and The West broke.  No 5 (Joshua Tinker) was a long way out but a floating shot was chanced.  Wow, top corner, what a spellbinder, what a way to rekindle hopes and spirits and get the home bods back into things.  For the neutral the game was perfectly balanced with a certain gung-ho recklessness always present beneath the surface of perspiration.  A brace of Irlam chances came and went, The Dids were getting trapped in the final third but somehow suppressed the heat, built from the back and saw Bailey go on a rapier-like thrust, lay the ball off for No 10 (Matthew Kay) to fire just off-target.  I expected more of the same from the team in need but a poor header from one of their subs saw Irlam's No 10 (Matthew Boland) pounce and punish.  Wallop, it was another golden strike, it was icing on a very bloated cake!  West Didsbury and Chorlton were now striving to get back in this one, No 7 (Carlos Mendes Gomes) let rip a sizzler, a quality save came, top notch indeed.  A few tasty tackles followed and a pot-shot came the other way.  It was Martin who strove for assassins honor.  Gloves were stung, the save was concrete.  

We were now late in the evening, the many whizzing legs were getting tired, the rain fell and the chill pervaded all areas.  WDC had a corner, Tinker flew in and put his crust on the globe - over the bar the ball went, it could have been a whole lot more.  Before we were done both sides had a decent shot each, one saved, one off-line, when the ref blew no one could complain, this had been a wild, off-the leash exhibition of two teams with a 'fuck it and see' attitude.  Man of the Match for me was Irlam's No 9 (Connor Martin) who showed some wonderful control, picked many a good pass and was always alert to the game around him - it was a performance to ponder and one reflective of a fine player.

FINAL THOUGHT - I once paid five pounds to spend a night in a free casino with a 3 breasted woman and an hermaphrodite with 2 todgers.  I was supplied with free-drinks, a bottle of posterior lotion and given a bag of gambling chips.  In the morning I was massaged by a dozen nude pygmies and fed quail eggs by a lesbian Mermaid - I'll tell you now, I had less excitement than I got tonight but at the end of the event my testicles were a little warmer.  Glowing globes apart this was a cracking evening's entertainment and again reflects what lucky buggers we are to be clued in to the Non-League zone.  Both teams have talent but, if they play like this, will be involved in many a nail-biting matches and be certainly rolling the dice with the devil of decision who gives no favours and takes no prisoners.  The defences are like the backside of Quentin Crisp, and need plugging, the industry and effort though needs no interfering with - the lads did themselves proud.  If you want to ask me how these teams will fare come the season end, well don't. I just know that both will not be short of goal action at either end of the pitch - I just hope your nerves hold up if you are a constant supporter.