26th October 2018 - Llandudno FC 0 v 0 Cefn Druids - A day spent birdwatching at Burton Mere RSPB and then wandering around Llandudno where we had a walk on the pier and indulged in an all day breakfast before having a snooze. A 30 minute walk to Maesdu Park was had in a nipping wind and upon arrival we duly indulged in a warming cuppa. A walk around the circuit of the ground was had and then seats taken. The wind increased, the overhead dragon emblazoned flags flapped harder than Old Mother Riley's titties in a hurricane and as we snuggled down and chatted with a few locals sentiments were had of a match that would be a tough one and with very few goals. The vibes were far from positive, both units were going through a sticky patch, I held no hope for a net bursting spectacle.
The teams came out, the clouds began to leak, a night of perishing play was to be had - could there be goals to warm the cockles - I bloody well hope so! The opening snippet of action came for the hosts when a crippling ball from No 4 (Michael Pearson) was played for No 10 (George Harry) to chase down. The pace on the globe was frisky, the striker galloped with fervour but the mittman was there first and grabbed with obvious relief. Cefn Druids returned the semi-favour with a long ball of their own that was crossed, touched on and finalised in a slap shot shitter from No 22 (Arek Piskorski). The first corner of the game came for the hosts after some cheeky work from their No 5 (Leo Smith). The ball in was knuckled out, put back in and from the melee the keeper dropped like a sack of sweating shit and duly smothered. The impetus remained with the home pack as the visitors looked to rely on a long ball albeit without any stinging direction. A free-kick did come from one such lengthy punt, it gave the first real suggestion of menace for the travelling team. A low slung ball came but a defensive header off the deck did the job required and the Llandudno bacon was saved (or lettuce if ye be of a veggie persuasion). From a dreary and drab period a splash of attacking pressure came for The Seasiders but each and every potential attack had about as much bite as Albert Steptoe after mislaying is decaying dentures. The game trickled on in scrapyard fashion and whilst making note of the disappointed faces in the crowd I did wonder if the local footballing suicide rate went up after these ghastly affairs or if the local psychiatrist's couch was fully booked by local officials. It was that type of game.
Suddenly a snippet of excitement came. As I fumbled for my tranquilisers (one has to be careful) a corner and a penalty claim was had for The Druids. The plea was waved away and Llandudno broke with No 9 (John Owen) away and looking certain to bury. He shot, the keeper spread himself and a defender did enough with the old ham shanks. Soon after the same player had another dig from distance but the wind took the ball off line and we stayed all square. The Druids battled on, their No 9 (Dean Rittenberg) had a solid shot cleared off the line and then the game returned to Desperation Street with a patchwork effect staining any semblance of fluidity. A few half shots came at either end but high end quality remained minimal - the half time whistle was a blessing without disguise.
For the break we hunkered down, swilled ginger and chewed a few toffees. A local verbally donated his despondency before pootling off to the other side of the ground - was that a gibbet I spied in the distance?
The opening bursts of the follow-up half began with Cefn Druids looking to have the greater appetite. A throw and a thumping shot by No 14 (Ryan Kershaw) was sweetly saved and a return punt by No 8 (Alex Mudimu) was firmly parried away from danger, Good work keeper! From an episode of midfield ping-pong that would have moistened the loins of Desmond Douglas a ball was hoofed over the Druids defence. No 21 (Toby Jones) popped up and looked to bury, the shank swung but the contact made was with 90% fresh air and not the leather orb and the gloved protector smothered with radiant gratitude. As in the first half we had a session of dissolving disarray with each team lacking an accuracy of pass and hustled and harried when in possession. Mudimu produced a sparkling turn and cross to pick out Kershaw for The Druids but the volley was shabby to say the least and this, looked as my good lady had predicted, to be a nailed on goalless draw. No 11 (James Davies) for the guests clobbered one next but again the home mitter was defiant and did his job.
The chess game continued, the rhythm was too rushed to produce anything of note. A Cefn corner eventually came and caused mayhem in the box and a close-in shot needing yet more gloved attention which in turn led to a Llandudno break. It was a 3 on 3 situation, a killer pass was there to be had but an offside call brought utter dismay and screams of anguish for the tried and tested support. From here, the wound that had opened was nearly filled with infecting and spiteful shit when a Druids corner caught the rear guard ball watching allowing Mudimu to sneak in and touch...just wide. This was the miss of the game and at such a late stage was one that was surely a 3 point punisher. Llandudno paid back with 2 corners, the first was too long, the second had too much uplift with the wind being the devilish causal agent. A stunning ball came soon after with No 14 (Alun Webb) destined to rifle home. Alas more fresh air was struck, it was just one of those nights. Extra time came and went in the twitch of a chinaman's chuff - this had been a trial and one that saw both teams snuff each other out. Man of the Match tonight was an easy choice with the home No 1 (Shaun Peason) the man who made sure this was a goal free affair and who kept his mind on the game when so many in the crowd had wandered elsewhere. It was a good stint between the sticks - thank you sir! After the match we walked back to our base, it was nobbing and the rain rattled into our faces - It was one of those night's but for some reason, we still enjoyed it!
FINAL THOUGHT - 2 teams pissing in the wind at the mo and there is nothing one can do only ride the storm and grind it out until the sunshine comes. There were many positive shrooms erupting from the muck tonight, it just takes one to sniff em' out and look on the bright side. Both squads are riddled with pace, both pass with eagerness and both are laden with players who never give up and who put in a full 90 minute effort. What is lacking is composure! Time on the ball, a build up where space is picked out and teams are dragged out of their comfort zone and duly stretched further than they would like to be. Sometimes knocking the ball about and keeping possession just for the hell of it is a good thing and can frustrate the enemy and get a good feel for the ball under foot. These are basics and personal thoughts but for me there was too much panic in the play tonight and an uncontrolled zeal that marred the final execution. One thing though is that, despite this unimpressive match, we will return as this is a good set up and there are a few friendly folk who made us feel quite welcome. Small touches that matter and all gratitude is ours. I hope when we do see both these sides next time fortunes have changed for them, I don't see why not!
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