Sunday 5 August 2018

AND SO IT BEGINS...

4th August 2018 - AFC Blackpool 0 v 0 Cleator Moor Celtic - The summer break is over, the new campaign is here, the recent buzz in the air has not been borne from a sudden unexpected bee influx nor is it down to a sponsored Vibrator-thon led by that Princess of Genital Pleasure - Fanny O 'Russet.  No, the tremble on the soundwaves is down to nothing more than the combined buttock-twitching nervousness of all those footballing fanatics who are eager to get down on a reality-sodden touchline, indulge in some refreshing tea and masticate on a good old soggy mass of grease-laden chips.  These people want to cast off their back issues of Rubber Nipples 1976, close the final page of their Anal Internationale Annual circa 1928 and get their eager mitts on the latest Non-League programme where they can satiate another fetish, this time without the need for any margarine and clothes pegs (you would be amazed).  And so, the day arrived, myself and my fine lady set off to Lytham St Annes where we indulged in a pootle around a local outdoor art exhibition, had a fine Full-English breakfast, took a couple of wildlife wanders and gave evidence to a policemen who had just arrested a nude Unicyclist outside of the local pie shop - I still say it was the gear-stick that the rider was having trouble with and that stain on his seat was certainly gravy.  Anyhoo, we arrived at the ground in good time, an eagerness displayed that lasted throughout last season and will no doubt keep us in good stead this time around.  The plan this season is to do a mere 60 reports and try and up the quality - this, is assessment No 1, from here it all goes downhill, sideways and occasionally over the other side - don't say I didn't warn you.

After chips, tea and an Arthur Bliss we took our seats and the teams appeared, the home 'erberts clad in tangerine, the away lads in peppermint and white hoops.  The man in black let the players take up their positions, a check of the watch was had and that familiar trill of the whistle was heard for the first time this season as the globe got rolling and the action unfolded.   No quarter was given in the early throes of the footballing passion with a whole lot of hustle and very little composure making for a somewhat stuttering start similar to the verbiage of Call My Bluff captain, Patrick Campbell (crikey, a flashback).  The closest we got to a strike on target came via the visitors No 11 (Stuart Shaw) who lashed, forced the ball to spin quicker than Linda Blair's head in The Exorcist and watched as the sphere flew mile's off target.  The hosts reacted, a corner came, No 11 (Carnan Dawson) produced a classy touched, spun and let fly. The ball headed goalwards, the man in green tipped over - a solid moment that raised hope.  2 more corners followed, the first was easily dealt with, the second was knocked to the back post were the liberated No 4 (Alex Caunce) nutted wide - a bad miss, sir, a ruddy bad miss!  At the opposite end No 9 (Callum Birdsall) was grappled rather roughly and awarded a free-boot. Shaw stepped up and walloped into the wall with a re-hit thumped into the Heavens.  The same occurrence followed, this time for the opposing team after more Wrestlemania affected a defending mind.  The shot that came was bilge, had the summer months been so draining and had Big Daddy fever twisted so many vulnerable minds?

The game progressed, both teams refused to run at their opponents rearguard, it was a mistake and the killer pass sought was nowhere in sight.  The Celtic lads were now growing into the game,  the Blackpool boys were on the rear peg and making a pig's ear of the most simplistic moves.  No 3 (Rhys Little) for the travellers connected with a cross, put his pate on the ball and knocked it just over - there was a threat in the air, as well as a Swallow, 2 Feral Pigeons and the smell of footballing bollocks - I really do wonder what some people see!  The Cleator contingency advanced soon after a silk laden move was spun, a handball appeal raised the hackles of the bench but the referee remained like the bowels of Elvis Presley - unmoved. Towards the latter end of the half AFC Blackpool dug in, a throw, a clutch of corners all accentuated promise but Cleator Moor stood strong and managed to ride the brief storm. Birdsall for the hooped ones displayed decent muscle as he wormed free from a trio of defensive bods and cracked off a punt.  The shot was saved and fell to the eager hooves of No 10 (Liam Johnson) who offended decency with a quite stinking miss.  The half ended on a note flatter than the mammaries of Mother Shipton - ooh heck.

We stayed put for half-time, tired out and happy to idle and check the score of other matches. The time whizzed by, half two was here and, I hoped, would be a more rewarding spectacle.

The second period began with a smattering of Blackpool pressure that saw a few crosses come in, one of which forced the mittman to produce a tidy save.  The guests worked back, the nuisance that was Birdsall was tripped on the edge of the box but only a corner was given - what went on there then?  The ball came in, a handball claim was had, the goalkeeper grabbed and shook off the hollering mania.  Both teams now fizzed with life, the game moved up a notch but a panic pervaded and composure was lacking.  At each end crosses came, the calmest man on the pitch looked to be the visiting net protector (Craig Divine) who did what he needed to do whenever required with a perspiration free brow.  A lunatic penalty shout came for the Moorites, the referee still remained unimpressed.  Cleator Moor were now shading matters, AFC Blackpool were back pedaling and getting themselves in some tricky spots.  No 5 (Jordon Little) for the Moor had a close in header but cracked over and after a punch from the guest keeper led to a break it looked as though the first strike of the day was about to be had.  A sugar sweet ball was played to Johnson who galloped, set his targets and indulged in a bigger botch job than the lip surgery of Lesley Ash - Cod-tastic!.

From here the tempo was turned up another notch, Cleator Moor had a hunger on, another attack soon came, No 7 (Tom Mahone) was at the sharp end and put in a cracking effort that just lacked enough dip to trouble the netting.  2 substitutes for the hosts suggested that the tide needed to be halted.  King Canute, get yer boots on!  No sooner had the 2 new boys graced the greenery than Mahone for Moor had a shot off target and then Dawson for the home team had a crack but only found the keepers ample midriff.  The match levelled out, the home keeper (Alex Cameron) was forced to make a neat close-in save and a goalless draw seemed inescapable.  A late explosive run by Celtic's Mahone should have borne juicy fruit but a rush of head blood, a slight bobble and all we ended up with was a sour grape.  Cleator Moor had their peckers up now, another break saw uproar follow as an offside flag was hailed as dubious - I must say it seemed a trifle harsh.  Only the away team looked like snatching this as the minutes ticked away, just the end killer quality was needed to bag a very important 3 points.  Into the final seconds, the green and whites came on strong, a ball came and was punted out.  A knock back in, No 4 (Jamie Glover) got his toe on the ball close in and poked forth, the save that came was of lofty standards and, as it turned out, made sure the points were shared.  The game was done soon after, a fair result although the visitors were unlucky to pilfer the end prize. We two wanderers pootled off, game over, job done and the Man of the Match Award goes to the aforementioned No 4 (Jamie Glover) for Cleator Moor Celtic who was routinely efficient, kept the head down and eyes on the ball and went about his impressive work quietly but with authority - it is always the best way.

FINAL THOUGHT - A good day all round but just lacking a few goals.  My opinions of both teams grew but as this is the first match of a long campaign a full on judgement would be a hard task to complete as tweaks and twangs are needed before any team is up and running it seems.  There was good desire from many players but this was overlain by too much rushing and not making the most of the obvious spaces available on the park.  Time is of the essence as a slow start can soon lead to a position with pressure and when pressure piles on mistakes can happen.  A look at the results after the match has already shown some teams to be flying out of the blocks and a few new clubs holding more than their own, something which Cleator Moor Celtic did very well today.  I think the guests, on this evidence will hold their own provided they build with patience and keep their heads cool.  Blackpool are a well versed club and play  steady game but the lack of chances on goal is a cause for concern and needs addressing as soon as.  Dawson put in a good stint and their mittman looks to be a reliable force but teams need to function from front to back with all cogs turning - get the oil-can out lads, here's to a smoother run out next time around.  PS - we passed the nude Unicyclist on the way home, all his cogs were turning well and many anatomical parts were well oiled - he may be a future signing for a club in need both on the pitch and...perish the thought...off it!

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