16th October 2018 - Cheadle Heath Nomads 2 v 0 Wythenshawe Town - Like the left titty and the right titty that adorn the chest of one Big Betty Muldoon there was very little to choose between the clashing entities on parade tonight and I did wonder which way the bra of balance would fall and who would taste the sweet lactated milk of non-league success. Both teams are new sucklers to this soccerised league and both have fed well and held their own in the early ticklings of the ball booting competition. A winning feed on the nipple of opportunity would result in an ascension to echelons higher, a failure to latch on to the dangling pap of promise and a curdling of the hopeful moo-milk could sour early season spirit. A busy day at work, a cycle home, tidying, tea, a stretch of the aching carcass and a short walk with my lovely lady to one of my favoured grounds. Salutations to good folk were plentiful and mandible wags enjoyed. STP Stu was in attendance tonight and we waffled like wankers on whizz and awaited the teams. Predictions were had, it was looking like a tight one (oooh Betty I can't get you out of my mind) and as it turned out....
The Whythy pack were straight on it with several early balls hurtled towards their opponents vulnerable zone, one of which found the fervid No 9 (Liam Crellin-Myers) who shot but could only hit the keepers well spread plates of meat. A throw in soon after travelled some distance and No 3 (Deven Golden) had a close in nut that again went straight at the keeper, this I considered a pivotal miss. Another attack saw a cross, a follow-up shot and a solid save that allowed the hosts time to take stock and try and get a hold on the game thus far. A push soon came, No 4 (Ashley Crank) advanced and put in a mighty fine cross that saw the keeper come and punch in a highly unconvincing manner. No 10 (Leon Grandison) was waiting to hoof back with interest and failed to hit the target by mere feet. In return, No 10 (Steven Yarwood) had a fair dig at the opposite end with the ball looking to dip below the horizontal albeit without significant pace. Luckily the yellow clad keeper was alert and caught with relative ease. The game advanced, an early sub, a card issued, a few free-kicks wasted, this was a close tussle with the away team shading matters in all areas of the park. Grandison for the hosts had another jab at glory in the midst of the tumult but the execution was neither forceful nor accurate. From here The Nomads found balance, some good crosses came and their ever eager No 9 (Richard Tindall) nearly found space on several occasions.
Some good moves were hitting the floor, No 8 (Phillip Yuille) for Cheadle put in a sweet turn to escape a surrounding triangle of players and duly knocked forth a pass that was only just dealt with before destroying all visiting hopes. With the twitch of a spasmodic buttock a long ball found Grandison who struck with sugar sweet feet but again did so without placement. Tindall was there to follow up the loose scraps, a deflection came for a corner which followed and pinged off the latter players noggin with too much 'oomph' and too little finesse. Some end to end action ensued, shots were offered but all awry and as the terminal point for the break was reached we arrived at destination zero with the match in a state of intriguing equilibrium.
Half-time and a wander for a cuppa and back to a different spot to watch the game unravel and hopefully someone grab the 3 point prize. During the break myself and Nomad coach David Potter indulged in a spot of glue-sniffing (my wife left it alone due to political reasons and STP Stu was never touching it again after falling pregnant during the last heavy session). During the huffing Potter said he had seen the light and the way to victory was in his grasp - it seemed a bold claim, as we both staggered to our respective hot-spots this is what transpired.
Once more The Town started brightest but Cheadle were quicker to respond to the rally call this time around and put their foot on the gas and made this a far closer competition in all respects. A ball came for the hosts. Tindall was on it like a wasp on a sun-bathers arse. The head went down, the strikers instinct coursed through the gushing veins and even though a colleague was in space the Tin Man had only an eye for goal. He staved off a defender, picked his moment and buried like a seasoned pro. He looked overjoyed, the corner flag got a good kicking, and why not - a great way to break a very tight deadlock and now the game was on. Both teams now worked the leg flesh with ardour, Cheadle were solid value for the lead and their No 11 (Stephen Kirby) had an ambitious dig soon after but the save was very much equal to it. The Nomads sub, a veritable footballing Jack Russell No 12 (Terence Butler), won a free-kick next due to nothing more than being a dog with a bone and not giving up on the chase. The cross that came was a trifle wank, a shame as the previous work was deserved of much, much more. Wythy had an equally dire gratis punt of their own and then Tindall for the hosts was causing mayhem again with a flick header to a colleague who shot and saw the ball saved. The sphere came out, was recovered and wham, Kirby hit a low hard drive and doubled his sides lead and knocked the sheer shit out of their opponents expectations. This was a fine kick back after the first half events, Cheadle Heath Nomads once again, were proving a tough nut to crack.
Into the mush we went, a few crunching tackles, some idiot argy-bargy and a few tempers tested. The referee was under the cosh but dealt with matters fairly and all the while the Wythenshawe energy and potential was being suppressed. Wythenshawe had a rare chance in this second period, Yarwood latched onto a cross and his close in header was a scandalous miss that could have given promise and a game changing situation - the culpable man looked rather disappointed. A settled period saw Kirby have a punt for the hosts, and then their No 14 (Kieran Herbert) went on a scintillating run that surely deserved a goal. The keeper sprawled and blocked though and Herbert had another dig soon after but the No 1 (Jake Aldred) was up for it again and duly parried. Wythenshawe laboured on to the last, won a few free-kicks but there was no quarter given and no way through a very resilient and hard working back-line. When the game was called to a halt no one could argue with the result and the Cheadle Heath Nomads got their due reward. Man of the Match goes to the home No 8 (Phillip Yuille) who was a choice cutlet in the meat of the midfield and looked to create plenty of time for himself on the ball, played a thinking man's game and knocked the ball about in a quite simple and cultured way - a great performance done in a subtle fashion but making a big difference.
FINAL THOUGHT - You can see why Cheadle Heath Nomads are holding their own in this league and what great desire and unyielding spirit they have when under fire or advancing forth. They have a good blend of skill, belief and hard-working components that will undoubtedly keep them in the top slots and put many a team on the back foot. Today we saw a first half were they scurried to hold their own and they did just that so as to come out in the second half, build on all the hard work and duly achieve the end result. They are nearly a complete package and with one or two additions to give strength in depth who knows what the future will hold. Wythenshawe Town are no mugs and today gave good value throughout and put the wind up the hosts early on. Direction was lost in the second half and, if the truth be known, they were outgunned. For me though they have too much in reserve to be put in any kind of jeopardy and have a few eye-catching footballers that will always produce a few goals. I hope to get back down their end soon enough, the calendar is always clogged though so I can only do what I do. I will be back at The Nomads next Tuesday - here's to a good un' as per, and may both teams have a ruddy good season. PS - on the way home David Potter was seen in the gutter still on the old glue bag - he seemed delighted with the nights events - and so he should be - stick at it sir, stick at it (literally).
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