23rd October 2018 - Cheadle Heath Nomads 2 v 1 Maine Road - Before the sun rose I was up, sorted and out with the good lady to drop her off at work and to carry on to await the Young Carers Crew whom I was taking on a farm trip. My colleagues and all attendees arrived and after having the van jump started we eventually set off and had a good day out on the farm. Chickens, cows, sheep, ducks etc, some fun games and a good blow through via the autumnal winds and home to fart about and catch up with some loose ends. Tea was chomped, the arse put back in gear and to the local ground I went with promise had of what I felt would be a goal fest (well 6 strikes at least). I am fairly up to speed with both teams and keep tabs on them as best as I can and this was looking to be a ruddy net bursting blitzer. Alas I am not renowned for my prophesying abilities but, having dropped a couple of Fly Agaric fungi earlier in the day and having consulted a dirty magazine that contained a nude spread of Russell Grant, I reckoned I had done all I could as regards seeing into the future. I had made a blip earlier in the week when I changed my name by deed poll to Patrick Moore and realised he was an astronomer and not an astrologer - bastard or what! I won't mention the Edwin Hubble tattoo I had on my left conker - what a wretched week! So, still confident I supped tea, chatted with STP Stu and a few folk and watched the teams take to the park. Remember, 6 goals at least or my name isn't Mr Moore - let the contest begin.
Arse comfy and after a local Red Fox (Vulpes vulpes) put in an appearance the first attack came with the home No 3 (Stephen Kirby) placing one to No 9 (Leon Grandison) who shot but without any venom. The away team rallied, paid back with their expected hurrying technique and from another patch on the back foot The Road broke with a rapier pass finding No 9 (Michael Burke) who dashed towards the goal with the opposition's No 5 (Jack Warren) in hot pursuit. The striker stayed composed, he shot with measured sanguinity and ballooned the inside of the net to bring up the evening's first strike. It was an unexpected opening goal and from here the team ahead certainly had the better of the play. No 2 (Jamie Hill) was in soon after and had a golden opportunity to double the advantage and throw a cat amongst the pigeons, nay, a sausage amongst the veggies. Despite reeling and trying to gain a foothold the Nomad crew displayed a fine self-command and were in no way being bullied or pressured into playing a panic driven game. The disciplined approach and biding of the time bore semi-ripened fruit when a quick break was knocked wide for a corner. The ball in was a choice cutlet but no takers arrived and we stayed as we were. Grandison went on a good run next, earned another corner that was once more sweetly struck and found the nut of No 11 (Isaac Graham) who saw the globe cleared off the line. A follow-up shot was belted back but stubbornly blocked with all peril negated.
Eventually the home lads got their act together and managed to produced several half chances. A free kick was borne from pressure and when Kirby stepped up there seemed acres of space in the area for him to pick his spot. The ball was struck, the wall missed and the goalkeeper beat - the equaliser was taken with graceful ease, if only every goal was so easily had. A corner soon after was won by the toiling No 9 (Richard Tindall) and, as per, the knock in was clean and well directed and needed another goal line clearance - the pendulum was now swinging a different way, the tick of the clock held threat for the visiting blue-clad crew. To maintain hope Burke slapped a beauty from nowhere and saw the ball dip with purpose but unfortunately clip the outside of the bar - a wonder strike it would have been, a disappointment it actually was. The Blues came again, Hill produced a scintillating turn and whammed in a cross cum shot that was not that far from breaking the net. The game was growing in stature as were several players as numerous noticeable performances were being had. Cheadle had the next crack with Grandison thumping one, the mitter knocking out and the lob back in missing by only a couple of feet. The half ended with the odd dig here and there with a Road player having a decent chance but dragging the ball wide of the mark. His raging holler of 'fuck', that fractured the night air summed matters up nicely - time for a break methinks.
A roam, tea and a jaw wag with Stu and a couple we meet regularly on our roamings. We all agreed this one was still in the balance. whether or not the goal flood would come was anyone's guess - here we go again!
For this second period the host's came out with more drive, more determination and more direction. Within minutes a blazing cross was knocked toward goal and nutted home for good measure. The strike looked ideal, the referee agreed until a flag caught his eye and after a brief chat with the liner the goal was disallowed. Steam rose from the home heads, the scandal was hard to swallow but swallow it they did and got on with matters in double quick time (applause for that methinks). With irritation coursing through their carcasses the Nomadic crew got their heads down and inflicted an increasing stranglehold on their opponents hopes. A 3 pass move was concocted quicker than one of Ali Bongo's love potions and a corner was earned. The delivery was top drawer (a consistent theme of the night) and was just nutted away by a gasping rear guard. The state of play was now set with the hosts urgent, the visitors looking for scraps. Tindall had a punt and a second attempt which flew high and just wouldn't fall into the awaiting net. The Nomads came again, No 2 (Kieran Herbert) battling away and winning a free-kick from nothing. The quality cross was dealt with, a corner followed, Warren came mighty close with a firm nutted effort.
As time travelled Herbert thrusted and had a shot to kill. The keepers legs blocked the attempt, the ball went loose and was hoofed back in. Enter The Tin Man with a choice nut that found glory and grabbed a lead that was always on the cards. Tindall peeled away and celebrated with his colleagues, the turn-around was complete now, it was just a question of seeing the game out. The Road suddenly arose from the slumber but Cheadle remained in control with No 8 (Phillip Yuille) having a shot after some good link up play. Again the keeper stopped with the shanks and the follow up corner produced sour FA. Soon after Herbert provided a choice cross with Tindall close to nailing down the coffin lid on the floundering hopes of Maine Road. The game ran into extra time in scrappy style and at the last a late free-dig for The Road was absolutely awful and Warner for the hosts was unlucky not to add the third. The referee blew and this had been a true lesson in 'never say die'. The Man of the Match for me goes to Cheadle Heath Nomad's No 2 (Kieran Herbert) who ran his socks off, battled with control, worked like a Trojan and never gave up the ghost - it was a performance reflective of a team who never know when they are beat - tis a quality not to underestimate.
FINAL THOUGHT - So another one done at this local ground and more questions answered rather than posed. Cheadle Heath Nomads are a force to be reckoned with and even when playing without fluidity and synchronisation still find a way to hang in and give themselves a chance of correcting matters when the chips are down. Today the first half was shady and sketchy, the second half a complete transformation that brought home the full 3 point prize and kept them right up in the dogfight at the top that seems destined to go on until the season's end game. This is a fascinating league and many teams will be dropping points along the way, it will all come down to who has the desire and the determination to grind out a result when there be shit in them thar cogs. Maine Road have turned a corner and from looking like relegation candidates, they now seem a team on the up and who are going to win more than they lose. A consistent run is needed and a boost of the confidence levels a must so as to get all players fully functioning and taking to the pitch with fizzing sanguinity. I think they will be fine but don't forget I did predict 6 goals (at least) tonight! Who knows how things will turn out but one thing is now 100% certain - my name is not Patrick Moore - just plain old Fungalpunk Dave - trying to put back in the usual way. Cheers for reading folks and if anyone wants to buy a second hand glockenspiel and a sexual telescope I am open to offers!
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