5th December 2017 - Abbey Hey 2 v 3 Trafford FC - With 14 seconds on the clock the last match I witnessed at this ground ended as prematurely as the desires of a loved-up hedgehog on a toilet brush and left us all feeling deflated and unfulfilled (a bit like the aforementioned mammal don't ya know). The reason for this was a floodlight failure, and it seemed that the nude photo's the Abbey Hey Director was sending to the local electricity board were not satiating their desires and it wasn't just the wires of love that had been snipped. After the sexed-frazzled sparks had come and done their business (ooh that poor Director's arse) and fixed the faulty illuminations, a new date for the match was set, alas, only to be met with a cruel twist of Willy Weather's unpredictable hand. Rain stopped play and more time passed but, with the Director now discovering the use of 'video techniques' and the weather going on a somewhat settled period we eager pootlers of the non-league realms waited patiently. In the interim we found ourselves at pitchside and ready for some actual action this time with Trafford FC the opponents. The weather was frisky tonight and I was sure that many a housewife could rest assured that their bristled karsi cleaners would be free of any mammalian seduction on such a nippy eve as this, although I have heard the pecker of the Porcupine has been known to stay in a state of perkiness when the therms are as low as 30 degrees centigrade. What a constitution, and without tablet assistance - amazing. And to the match. The squads appeared, knees tensed trying to avoid the knocking process, the starting stances were adopted and yes indeed, it was kick off time (please adopt own Hughie Green inflection), and I mean that most sincerely folks!
The initial tempo was set by the advancing lemon-clad guests who came in a repetitious wave like the yellow peril on goofballs. The greasy surface was used to good effect with the ball sliding around like a sausage on a ski-slope. The Hey strove hard to get some early possession and despite having snifter of success Trafford were communicating well and keeping ranks closed. Having said this Abbey Hey had the first opportunity fall their way when No 7 (Johnathon Hardy) broke the tight rear line, punted with force and saw the keeper take the wind out of the ball with desperate fingertips. The globe looped and looked destined to drop into the frame of the goal but the defensive No 6 (Paul Linwood) produced a crucial goal line clearance and made sure a shock strike was negated. Seconds later the home bods created a move that ended with a header on target. The danger was easily dealt with but a certain imbalance was addressed and the game was now on an even keel. The next suspense to arise saw a probing Trafford ball be collected by their No 10 (Andy Keogh) who displayed good strength in making room to release a shot. The keeper was down quicker than Jeffery Archer's underpants in a brothel and saved with efficiency at close range. The corner came, the volley veered off at such a mesmerising angle one could almost envision a smiling Pythagoras sporting a 135 degree hard-on, ooh those todger tangents! Following another dire shot from the visiting team they duly came again, this time with greater purpose. No 11 (Michael Monaghan) rushed and cut the ball back, No 9 (Aaron Burns) produced a blisterer that just missed the upright, it looked only a matter of time before mesh would ripple.
Over and over again The North ran forth with the breakthrough eventually had. The move that eventually bore fruit was typical, with a power shot slapped at the net. The home No 1 (Robert Swallow) parried the ball only to see Andy Keogh appear from nowhere and easily tap home. From here some stimulating end to end stuff arose with the home team lucky not to fall 2 goals behind after sitting back and needing a last ditch block to save the pecked arses. A late shot came from Abbey Hey, No 3 (Lee Wilshaw) was the producer but only got a corner for his efforts after the ball was deflected behind. Nothing came of the angled kick and before the final pips it was Wilshaw again who had another crack - this was way off the mark and the half-time break came just at the right time methinks.
We stayed put at half-time, had a chat to local bod Pete who regularly reads these blogs (you have my deepest apologies sir) and waited for the two squads to reappear. It was a lengthy break but out the units came, the question was - 'could the Hey indeed make hay' - it was a pity Farmer Spam of Cockerel Comforting Farm wasn't around, perhaps he is still being held by the local constabulary - you can't blame em' and for me the plea of 'those geese were homosexual' is no excuse. Ahem, and back to the match...
Abbey Hey came straight out of the blocks and when a cross was put in and the ball looked destined for the net it must have been disheartening to see a clearance made and the chance disappear into the chilled ether. As Hey pushed Trafford dug in and wormed their way back into matters with a trio of free-kicks, a corner and much ascending threat. The home squad were determined to hold the upper hand here though and No 11 (Daniel Heffernan) ripped in a blazer that required a firm save to deny triumph. A corner came, a head rose and, in the simplest of ways, we were suddenly at 1 goal apiece, No 4 (David Young) was the marksman, the game was back on. Up t'other end we went, No 2 (Sean Yeldrem) produced a nut but the ball went straight into the ground and failed to cause the keeper any great consternation. Minutes later, whilst Abbey Hey pushed on, a simply gorgeous ball over the top left Trafford's Andy Keogh to do his bit. He brought the ball down with deft control, wandered past the keeper with silky ease and slotted home from the angle with exquisite coolness - it was a classy moment and noteworthy of a decent player. Within seconds the same bod was connecting with a cross but this time finding the night air instead of the net. In return Abbey Hey won a free-kick which was poorly delivered and cleared. Hey rebuilt, No 9 (Peter Watling) was released and let fly. A firm near post save was the result but the hosts were applying good pressure in their pursuit of the equaliser.
Trafford looked to break, a ball was played, a flick on executed and Aaron Burns side nutted home and surely bagged the game for the visiting tribe. It looked all over now but Hey started to sweat blood and generated 2 corners. No success was had but the intensity was maintained and Trafford were conceding territory. The clock was ticking down, a snap shot came from the flustered melee. The ball flew across the glistening surface at a notable angle, the Hey boys celebrated, Peter Watling had struck gold. With only 1 minute on the clock and whatever the referee added the home team now made their opponents earn their crust. This was a good late rally and one expected a surprise equaliser. Alas the referee checked his timepiece and put his whistle to his lips and blew for full time, Trafford had hung on, in the end the victory was deserved and Man of the Match I feel should go to their No 4 (Andrew Langford) who was sturdy, disciplined and encouraging to his team-mates throughout the match. His communication was spot on and for me, epitomised his team as a whole and the way they worked as a unit and kept each other alert.
FINAL THOUGHT - A decent match this with the North West Counties League side putting on a very good show against the Evo Stick squad who certainly work as a complete unit and are well-versed in their positional play. Tonight we saw Abbey Hey put in a tenacious stint and show that they can be a force to be reckoned with, especially when their backs are against the wall. I feel though that Trafford always seemed to have that little more in reserve and looked like a team who could strike at any given moment. I shall be certainly keeping tabs on both squads and I may, after this game, squeeze in a visit to Shawe View and check them out on their home turf. If they sell chips, a good brew and have a place for me and my good lady to park our arses then so much the better. It goes without saying I'll be back to Abbey Hey, a local-ish club I do like to visit several times a season - fingers crossed that next time there will be a deserved win come their way.
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