The teams soon came out, the ball got rolling and action was minimal. The first pot shot at goal came via the Irlam No 8 (Joshua Nixon) who eyed glory and got disappointment as the globe scooted off target. No 9 (Dale Korie-Butler) and No 8 (Paul Watson) linked up well for The Yellows next, the latter bod cracking one off close in (ooh, and on such a pleasant night too) but being denied by a keeper on the early qui vive and with legs well-spread. A long ball came again from the hosts, No 7 (Matthew Reid) ran like a vicar with the shits, swung his peg and hit the corner of the framework, it was a ruddy good effort nonetheless. Ashton came once more, No 11 (Joshua Nicholson) was in but a last minute mis-touch allowed the mesh protector to safely gather in his eager arms. The hosts seemed to be just shading matters early on as Irlam were somewhat subdued and quiescent in their manner. The visiting pack did cultivate a corner but it led to a breakaway that ended in an offside and was duly followed up with Reid on the charge and winning an angled kick. The globe entered the box, a punch out came and a shot was returned that was, not to put to light a point on matters...crap! A bonus belt to Irlam ensued, it looked inocuous enough, the ball entered the box, a nut across from No 5 (Steven Mills) was had and a header came via No 9 (Haydn Foulds) and brought the first goal of the night - it seemed as easy as A, B, C!
Into the depths of the half we went, a good passing move from Ashton saw Nicholson and Korie-Butler in the mix but the final ball put pay to any rising passions as the offside web was fallen into. Nicholson came again, he roamed wide, rushed and laid off the ball for Watson to whack. The contact was sound, the aim not so - hey ho, start all over again! A few minor gaps now started to appear, the game looked to be warming up but both teams were appearing to play like a donkey with its dick in a blanket - and not showing enough width. Nothing of note happened for the remainder of the half and no matter how far I strained the imaginative juices the paper on which I scribbled remained void of waffle.
Half-time - tea and natter, many agreed this was far from a classic, I think they were understating matters.
Out the teams came, it was yet another subdued start, like a game of chess between two Valium addicts but eventually a shade more purpose did arise. Irlam had a free-kick, No 10 (Matthew Boland) wellied one and the keeper spilled. A chance was there to be had but the referee blew for some unknown faux pas - what a bugger. No 7 (Marcus Perry) whizzed away next, he had space and time but neither shot nor crossed - the chance was lost. From here very little happened and reminded me of the time I was stuck in a lift with a numismatist, a dust laden librarian, an elective mute and a member of the local Lettuce Appreciation Society - they were discussing the colour variations of dust particles, as you can imagine I was a trifle glazed of eye. Both teams continued like headless dung beetles, a lot of scurrying, no real shit moved. Korie-Butler for the hosts had a rare effort, it was no surprise to see it flash wide. Irlam held the greatest threat however, No 14 (Zack Dulson) was working particularly hard, he was making the home defence break sweat and made space for No 2 (Macauley Harewood) to dash and win a corner. The cross that followed was bang on the mark and bodies flew this way and that with a clearance coming from the melee. Ashton had a brief flourish but No 8 (Joshua Nixon) put a superb ball over the top of the home rear pack allowing Foulds to toe-poke - the mitter was awake and saved - tidy work fella. Ashton laboured away and tried to level matters, a ball in to the Irlam box pinged around like a whizzed up pea at a punk gig but alas there was a lack of control and the pesky round thing was booted away.
A few people now moved and fidgeted, I suspect they wanted this one over and when a loud bang went off in the distance and several Wood Pigeons took to the air I wondered if we had just aurally witnessed the first suicide of the evening. A clonking shot came the Irlam way and almost raised a tingle in the privates - emphasis though was on 'almost'. Another Irlam attack saw a dig fly off the radar and then a great move was had with Harewood a chief component and starting off a 2 pass sequence that culminated in a goal for No 16 (Connor Martin). It was a tasty move, not reflective of the nights mundane spectacle. Soon after the referee blew, he dashed off, no doubt seeking psychiatric help for the horror show he had just conducted - these things happen, I hope the medication helps ease his pain. Man of the Match goes to No 2 (Macauley Harewood) of Irlam for sheer consistency, an attempt to make something happen and for sticking to his role with resolute determination - see, every cloud has a silver lining laden with positivity. Before tootling off home we said farewells and had a chat with that fine, amiable chap Matty Kay (Irlam's Assistant Manager) - he is stepping back come season end to spend time with his family - he has always been grand with me, I can only wish him all the best in what he does and no doubt can rest assured, at some point, he will be back. Cheers chap.
FINAL THOUGHT - I will sum up tonight's match like this - I once spent a night in a Travel Lodge with Derek Nimmo, I did it for a bet and ended up learning the 138 ways a napkin can be folded whilst discussing the merits of knitted slippers - I was kind of numb at the end of it and glad to get home - do you get my drift! Look, let us be honest, this was a tough affair to get excited about and both teams need to take a break, recharge and rebuild for the next campaign or some serious shit will hit the miniature windmill. A judgement on tonight's performance would be false as there was nothing to play for and both teams were more jaded than the eyes of Fumanchu after a naked Mah Jong session. I will certainly be watching both sides next year, popping in and popping out amidst the mush of other matches I pootle about at. I hope all players are on their toes and have a strong start - there are concerns to be had and promises to hold onto - I think next year could be a tough one, a few good teams are coming up, a few look to be setting firmer foundations by the season, whatever happens I will be watching and describing and I hope it has more positive excitement than on show tonight. PS - while leaving the ground I found a man broken by the game and crying his eyes out in the car park, I hugged him and gave him a signed copy of 'After Dinner Speeches' by Nicholas Parsons - I never though that book would ever be off my hands and offer such a ray of hope to one so lost - ahem!
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