17th February 2018 - Maine Road 0 v 3 Barnoldswick Town - Another weekend gone, one of football, DIY noise and some birding. Monday is my day of catching up with loose ends, if I am lucky there will be match to finish the day - today was such a scenario. I clattered away at the eternal backlog and tidied up like a Whirling Dervish with an attack of OCD. I had a read, 'Doctor in Clover' by Richard Gordon, a very titivating tome, sorted a few outstanding fungi, Mollisia ligni named and shamed, filed a few photos ready to go on the website 'Marbled Green Moth' and 'Short Winged Conehead' among others and updated some wildlife records to hopefully help each species along. On Saturday I was joined on the touchline by a couple of mates (STP Stu and Daz). Tonight only Stu could make it as Daz was still booked into a local Travel Lodge with the linesman he tapped up at the weekend. He claims it was love at first sight and they are trying hard to have a baby - I think he his blinded by lust and losing sight of the dynamics of procreation - he seems happy enough though but has lost 2 stone in two days - I hope the hotel has a good health and safety policy. So day done, tea cooked for my best mate (the missus) and at the ground I manifested myself (and no, not in that way, especially with my arthritic hands). A brew and a chinwag were enjoyed, we took up positions A and B (or vice versa if you want to be PC) and watched the game unfold.
7.45pm was the time, the first action took place soon after, Road were exposing their usual high level of activity and making sure their opponents had an early 'rise and shine' finger up the jacksie (ouch). The Barlick Boys are no mugs, they responded with a quick passing move that was finalised with two shots at goal. One was saved, one was blazed over - the home 'erberts needed to watch their step. The next invasion into a danger area came via The Road with some fast wing work and a cross resulting in No 11 (Sean Cookson) just touching over. This was a high-spirited start, with both teams giving hint at a free-flowing Gung-Ho style. The Blues advanced once more with the park dissected by a quite enticing pass. No 9 (Jack Coop) chased and got through The Barlicks' rear guard. He had more time than he realised and his side-footed shot was rather rushed and went wide of the mark. Barnoldswick responded, a throw in came, No 9 (Mark Threlfall) executed a neat turn and eagle-eyed snap shot. The keeper was tested but dropped low and saved without too much fuss - surely the first goal was on the cards. The corner came, we mere touchline tooters witnessed a game of in box Ping-Pong that would have aroused the likes of Desmond Douglas no end. The ball somehow found its way into the net, complete silence ensued, it was a surreal moment but No 7 (Zack Dale) was claiming it and returned to his own half quite pleased with himself. His team advanced straight from the kick off, they won the ball and Dale was put in via a noticeably crippling pass. The shot that followed was low and hefty, the save that came was of the same stature. The corner was poor, The Road broke like whippets on hormones, Coop was left alone to do their dirty work, the ball was lost, Barnoldswick rebounded with a sizzling surge. A shot from the No 11 (John Beckwith) took a spiteful deflection and looped like a boomerang on acid. The keeper stood rooted to the spot, the ball dipped, the mesh quivered - 0 - 2 it was, Maine Road looked shell-shocked.
From here the hosts dug in, won plenty of possession but, like the breasts of Vanessa Phelps in a nude trampolining contest, all support was visibly lacking. They won a few free-kicks, the balls in were void of pep and accuracy and from one such incident the guests broke with gusto and Threlfall was unlucky not to add a third after striking from the angle and just dragging the globe wide. Again a corner came and again it led to a breakaway. A long ball found Cookson, he took one touch and toe-poked as the keeper raced off his line. The ball passed the galloping gloved guardian and I applauded as it rolled goalward. Those besides me also prematurely celebrated but the globe was a spiteful swine tonight and duly kissed the outside of the post and trickled behind for a goal kick. Barlick took this warning and responded with liquidity. A nut came and just put the ball over and moments later Threlfall turned and played a wonder pass that saw Beckwith just denied by the goalie. The clock ticked away, the guests had one final crack at goal with a gaping net missed. A corner soon followed, a bout of pinball and an eventual clearance - the half was done and what an exciting affair it had been.
As per a piddle, a cuppa and a chinwag - the simple things in life are always the best.
The second half started with an early MR corner. The ball was knocked in, No 5 (Joshua Hill) helped it on, No 4 (Jonathan Mason) had a close in nut neatly tipped over by a well-stretched No 1 (Jordan Gidley). Maine Road were now making the most of the early running but Barlick gradually warmed to the task and became far more protective of the ball. A hold-up knocked the stuffing out of the flow and when things did recommence a free-kick for the visitors was dealt with like a hot potato by the home defence. The ball eventually dropped to Beckwith who put too much 'oomph' into his swing and fired high. The guests came again, Dale laying off and continuing his advances. He somehow managed to deflect a colleague's shot onto the outside of the post, a trifle unlucky not to make a strike and kill the game dead if you ask me. A swift move followed, same team, two passes and a shot. Close but saved, the pace was too quick and I missed the striker - I apologise for my slackness (so sayeth the drunken vicar to his shrivelled organ player, namely Miss Edna Dessicated). A follow-up shot came, a defensive bod cleared within the melee - feisty stuff indeed.
A lull came, both teams snuffed each other out until a Maine Road attack was borne, an onslaught that looked laden with promise. Tackles were flying all ways, Cookson found a way through and fired but was yet again off target. More tasty collisions followed, nothing too malicious, just a copulation of hard endeavour and a sticky surface giving birth to incidents misinterpreted as nasty - it happens. Road somehow indulged in a flourish in and around their opponents' box, it was a panic laden affair, too many snap shots and not enough thought, all efforts were blocked and they let Barlick off a serious hook. Next, and Dale at the other end had a punt off-centre, the MR lads responded with a free-kick. The ball was put into the box, the keeper shouted and missed it, the ball headed goalward and needed a fine clearance off the line - great work. This moment duly led to a lightning release that saw a 4 on 2 situation - how nothing came of it I will never know. There were only minutes left, the game was fizzling when out of the pack the visiting team marauded and their substitute Emmanuel Ogundrinds slotted home on his debut and signed, sealed and delivered a well-earned victory. The referee blew after a bit of extra time, Maine Road tried to get a consolation, it was all to no avail. The game was done, Man of the Match goes to No 7 (Zack Dale) of Barnoldswick Town for a zippy, pestering performance and a 90 minute persistence that kept the host's in a state of perpetual worry.
FINAL THOUGHT - I always enjoy my trips out to Brantingham Road but more often than not I come away bewildered by the home teams efforts and wondering why the Hell they seem to lose so many games. Tonight however I didn't feel too perplexed as the team looked disjointed, didn't make the best of their few opportunities and struggled to get to grips with a game that slipped away before it really got started. The fact is Maine Road are better than this, but without points banged up on the board a high price could eventually be paid and they will find themselves in Ye Olde Street of Shit without a shovel - and that is crap. Barnoldswick Town are best described as a 'steady' unit who always give a good account of themselves. They play a direct passing game and have built up a good foundation this year on which to build in the near future. The options are there, the underpants of success are waiting to be worn but many have tried them on and found they don't fit too snugly and duly end up falling arse over tit - it ain't easy surviving in this Non-League world, especially if all your Barlicks are not tucked in and your todger of talent has a bend in it - think on chaps.
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