DERBY MAYHEM

4th April 2018 - Cheadle Town 1 v 2 Stockport Town - A local Derby, a match between two teams who, on their day, are both a tough nut to crack but who just lack that touch of consistency to make them contenders for the rise.  As an aside did you know that a Derby Hat is the American name for a Bowler and makes a quite remarkable bedpan.  Personally I'd rather empty my bowels on all this US talk that is infiltrating our language as I am quite a lover of the home grown tongue and all its regional nuances.  Mind you, give me a Topper and tis like a laxative to a lunatic - a cracking receptacle for the eternal waste.  Without getting myself too deep into an headwear prejudice though I shall go back to the match and after a day out at a fantastic working farm with some Young Carers the game tonight was a nice way to unwind and contemplate a contest that is another hard call.  I would suggest the best way to ascertain the result would be to toss up but that would encourage too many to stop indoors and indulge in a palm-searing practice that is not good for the eyes.  So with trousers fastened, hands in pockets I arrived at the ground after me and my good lady picked up a couple of young groundhoppers and let the Gods of Goals cast their dice and hopefully keep us all guessing until the last.  A few faces were present, the jaw was wagged and paper scrawled upon.  At the end of 90 minutes I had cultivated a reminder of event's past - if you are of a nervous disposition I would turn away...wait, for it, wait for it...now!

Phalanx poked leather, all eyes were on the sphere that turned, it must be something in the water that has sent our minds perverse - would anyone sane spend 90 minutes of their life watching people thwack a ball about, I bloody well hope so, it would be poor to miss out on all the fun!  Stockport Town started with the greatest hunger, a ball in after a few seconds caused defensive disarray and No 9 (Ben Halfacre) was nearly on the scoresheet with a hopeful toe-poke.  The ball was somehow hoofed away but moments later the same irksome Lion growled with intent once more and sent in a shot that blew wide.  Immediately up the opposite end we went, No 11 (Christopher Sherrington) placed a ball to No 9 (Luke Cotton) who had a head of steam, rushed matters and fired over.  A free-kick ensued soon after, Sherrington took charge, the keeper kicked the incoming effort and it fell to No 7 (James Dunn) who, like the straining Atlas, just couldn't wrap himself around the globe - the chance went begging!  The game settled, Sherrington had a thump off target, it showed a keen chomping desire!  A cross again from the anally ignited Sherrington saw No 10 (Richard Whyatt) put in a dire header and contribute to his teams early frustrations.   For all of Cheadle's industry their conveyor belt of potential production was nearly ruptured with excitement when the home mitter (Daniel Whiting) foiled Halfacre who had latched onto a ludicrous back pass.  The home mitter then put in a dreadful clearance that saw Halfacre shoot with instinct and force a solid recovery save - oh you lucky bugger.  Some outrageous defending at the other end saw Whyatt collect. He went around the keeper instead of taking the direct route, a defender recovered and put a stranglehold on the danger - another magic moment missed.  This was a frantic opening burst to a well-balanced game, mistakes were abundant, the attitude and commitment spot on, the conditions far from ideal - what more do you want for your fiver?

The action continued unabated, Sherrington came again for the Green Army, a marvellous cut in from the left flank was had but the shot was blocked.  2 corners followed, the second saw a shot from Whyatt fly over, disappointment rose. At last a quiet spell came, somehow after all the fizzing energy we were still goalless, I duly blame the lovely couple I was stood next to.  The fella claimed that there would be goals tonight and the lady predicted a 2-2 draw - surely the mockers had been put on any potential strikes! Mind you, I predicted a 6 goal game, who am I to cast aspersions?  The game soon got flowing once more, the home team were having the better of things with Whyatt galloping through again but getting denied at the last. Next and Halfacre for the visitors latched on to a sweet cross and shot from only a few yards out.  The block by the home No 3 (Jonathan McLaughlin) was exceptional and from here Cheadle pushed hard.  With only a few ticks of the clock left a free-kick from Sherrington was played, the mittman fumbled like a virgin with a titty and the ever alert Whyatt pounced like a vampire on an uncooked lamb chop.  It was 1 - 0 to the hosts, in many respects it had been thoroughly earned.  Soon after the whistle sounded, a good entertaining half for sure, there were no complaints from this end although after a good fish and pea tea I am sure my rear was straining to make its opinions known!

A few chats during the interval were thoroughly enjoyed, there are some good folk about with a love for the simple joys of this genuine game - I like that!  The aforementioned couple chatted some more and the bloke indicated his insight into some good old punk.  He had been listening to Flux of Pink Indians recently, a decent noisy crew.  We also discussed the merits of X-Rays Spex, The Undertones, UK Subs and of course the continual push to get the new breed moving.  Tis in the blood. DIY or DIE!

And to the second half and Cheadle were out and at it.  Cotton was nearly in, the keeper denied but the loose ball was lobbed back by Whyatt in the hope of adding an early second.  The key to the game is to shoot on target, this was not an example of that rule!  As Cheadle looked to increase their advantage The Lions came back and earned a free-hoof.  Myself and the Stockport Town assistant secretary discussed the options, I said that I thought it would go straight and low (similar in fact to Ronnie Corbett when he was on bail).  The ball duly did as predicted as Halfacre swung his shank.  The save should have been routine but a hash of matters was had and the ball sneaked home - 1 - 1 we were, now who would take the bull by the balls and squeeze out the juices of triumph (I hope all had the hand gel ready afterwards).  From here more wayward passes dominated, Cheadle had a corner in the chaos, No 5 (Joseph Shaw) rose and nutted with considerable force and the save that followed was of a lofty standard indeed.  End to end stuff came, the hosts looked to have the edge but they couldn't add shine to their industry.  The guests were given another free-kick, a sloppy tackle it was and Halfacre indulged in a repeat insult with a second strike that saw the keeper get his fingers to the ball but just too late - it was just one of those nights.  

The Greens now had to work harder, a ball in saw the substitute Ambrose punt over and then the same player turn and let fly again but he saw his shot easily saved.  The game was now in the last pangs of passion, steam was rising, another shot for the Greens came and was once more saved.  The rain fell, a foul night it was, the onlookers ran for cover, Stockport pushed late on with a decent dig denied by the recovering mitter.  The last gasps saw Cheadle push, 2 players indulged in a mix-up and blew a chance and a final header grazed the bar before the referee saw fit to save the players from a full on drowning.  It had been a fair and tasty game, the result went to the team who had a touch of luck, held firm and who smashed and grabbed when they could, Cheadle could consider themselves very unlucky and a few blips were the difference tonight.  Man of the Match must go to Stockport Town's No 9 (Ben Halfacre) who put in a Captain's stint, bagged two goals (fortunately) and ran until the very last thus  setting a good example to all his fellow colleagues.  It was very much needed after a week of change and the 3 point bonus was icing on the cake.

FINAL THOUGHT - A very keenly contested affair, both units played with zeal and on another night the result could have been entirely different.  Rumours are bouncing in many directions at the mo and change is forever in the air.  I think, given the vibrations picked up on, that both these teams will be born-again battalions next year that the rejuvenating hands of Billy Graham would be proud of.  I once went to Billy Graham to heal a pain in my buttocks, I don't know what went on but after being put into a haze I staggered home with my underpants missing, £33 missing from my trouser pockets and a tattoo of John the Baptist on my left testicle.  The pain in my jacksie had gone though, one can't have everything and my advice to the teams is to forget about this year's aches and pains and to look forward to next season with renewed and agony-free arses.  I shall be popping in now and again and doing my bit, my money is on one of these teams making genuine ripples on the flesh of the re-jigged league - don't say you haven't been warned.