Wednesday 27 February 2019

SHACK, RATTLE AND ROLL

26th February 2019 - Irlam FC 2 v 2 Burscough FC - The sun had been shining of late, the topsy turviness of the seasons continues as climate change takes hold and the natural world gets thrown all ways.  I had been out and about of course, taking in the sights and sounds and ignoring the goons on their phones, the discarded litter and the general self-absorbtion that sees things spiral downward - come on lad, stay chipper.  The day at work was decent enough, I had a dinner time break enjoying the literary weavings of Somerset Maugham and when cycling home I noted a few bits of nature for my latest book.  The aforementioned niggles had not only got on my tits of late but were emboldened enough to take up residence and hold a party around my nipple area.  Life can get like this, and even the happiest soul can be affected by the pap-based problems.  I tried to elevate myself, I still felt on edge so as a kickback I took a dump on my neighbours car, sent a fake hospital letter to my Uncle saying that he needed to go for a scan as he may be a black homosexual and made a crank call to the local council offices requesting help for an untidy back passage (yes we do have a back passage, and yes it is untidy, and of course I meant my arse).  After these therapeutic misdemeanours I felt a certain exhilaration and the night's football could only enhance the lofted sensation.  I like visiting Irlam FC, some nice folk can be found there although we had been neglectful this season due to flitting about here and there.  Burscough is also one of my favoured grounds and one not visited enough this season, as per I was torn down the middle as to who to holler for, it is no bad thing being a neutral though and to just support the grassroots game is enough.  If one can do it with a positive air and of course, a clean rear, then so much the better.

The sable air of late February started to chill, after a chat with some fine folk who make this club tick and local groundhopper John D, 22 entertainers took to the pitch, 3 black clad officials were ready for action, and so were we onlooking supporters.   The ball began to rotate, the chase was on, the early throes of passion were brisk and highly animated, with both teams exhibiting sharpness and positivity.  Irlam had the first thrust of any significance with a goal kick sweetly touched on to No 7 (Marcus Perry) who wasted no time in letting fly from the angle.  The ball flashed over the bar, it was a good move, the final choice was wrong.  From midfield mayhem, the host's No 8 (Liam Morrison) was the next to advance.  He was allowed to progress, sensed a chance of triumph and had a pop - in truth it wasn't that far of rippling the netting.  Burscough now summoned a break for themselves with a rapid rush down the flank that saw a ball enter the box and some pinball action ensue.  Irlam survived this unexpected hassle but Burscough came again with a sublime pass over the top walloped by No 10 (Connor Finlayson) who was closer to taking out a high-flying satellite station than lobbing the keeper and hitting the net.  Irlam though were slightly ruffled, they duly dawdled in defence, their opponents were allowed to knock the ball about in territory marked 'danger' with Finlayson sending in a boomer that sizzled over the horizontal.

The game was a fascinating affair, Perry for The Mitchells had a shot once more, a real thumping effort but again with too much uplift.  For me though, the travelling pack were slightly shading matters but just a little trigger shy in the vital areas whereas Irlam were keen to shoot when they did get into a place of promise.  No 4 (Daniel Brady) for the guests created the next thrill, he powered ahead with drive and focus, was tumbled in the box, the referee ignored the penalty claims.  The same side prowled, No 3 (William Doherty) burst in, a touch came, the resulting save adequate.  Straight up the other end we went, a dazzling break nearly burnt out my retinas, a cross came and No 10 (Haydn Foulds) hit first time - like a toothless asp it lacked any real bite.  The heat generated by the on-field antics grew, Perry for Irlam added to this by being floored in the box and bringing due uproar - the referee was unconcerned and only a corner was given.  Outrage, disbelief, thermally radiant words of a naughty nature were rattled around the ground.  When the ball came in, went out and was thumped back and the net bulged it was sheer salt in an open wound that the flag went up and no goal was the verdict - cripes.

The final stages of the half came, Burscough had 3 corners on the bounce, the first was shabby, the second a little better, the third was gathered by the home keeper who unexpectedly dropped, brought a moment of panic and a colouring of the underwear, but duly grabbed at the second attempt.  The visiting bench were becoming more vocal, a word in a shell-like was had, Burscough came on, No 8 (Prince Ekpolo) played thief, pilfered the prized globe, put one on a plate for No 9 (Chad Whyte) who cracked one off (ooh on such a cold night too) just wide of the far stick.  With seconds now left of this intriguing opening half Irlam galloped and from another blazing wing run the ball came, a mis-kick had, a melee cultivated and then a loose ball was latched onto by No 3 (Joel Amado) who struck, got a slight deflection and watched the ball loop into the awaiting net - 1 - 0 and right on the stroke of half-time, the referee blew - what a decent do this was.

We stayed put for half-time, had a natter with the aforementioned John D (and to his shame Blue Oyster Cult fan - tut, tut) and me and the missus shared a choccy bar - John was being good and having an apple!  The teams came out for half two, take yer pick folks, this was still anyone's game!

The initial action of part two came via the Blues with a corner bringing hope but leading to a swift counterattack led by Ekpolo.  Options were plentiful, time was taken, a real opportunity looked lost but the ball was played wide, a cross thrashed inward and a tap home by No 9 (Chad Whyte) brought the perfect response and the equalising goal.  It was as simple as you like and sent this game up to the next level of intrigue.  Irlam came close to regaining the lead soon after when Perry flew, passed back to Foulds who knocked in a cross cum shot that nearly fell into the top corner - the keeper did well to palm behind.  The ball in led to sour FA and the first scrappy period followed.  From a period lacking in glimpses of goal Burscough broke like a fart from a ruptured ringpiece, a foul came and more uproar was borne.  As distraction dominated many heads, a cross found the crust of Burscough's Whyte who nutted home and bagged a crucial strike.  As Irlam remained shaken up, the team with their tails up pounced once more, No 11 (Jordan Lorde) was at the apex of a fine move, the shot alas went across the face of goal instead of bang in the meshed mush.  Irlam responded, a quick move was negated by the nut of the resolute No 5 (Luke Gibson) with the shot back of a standard best filed as 'crap'.  

The impetus of the match never let up, Foulds for the hosts nearly snuck in but the guest keeper read the situation well and beat the attacker to the ball and then into the final tussle we went, Irlam desperate, Burscough resilient.  As Burscough began to absorb Irlam gradually inched closer.   A passing sequence around the box suddenly led to a break, a foul in the box came - the referee this time submitted to the hollers and the hands of fate, the spot was firmly pointed at.  Morrison had the chance to bag his side a point, it was the last minute of official time - he slotted home with aplomb, what a last minute saviour, what a way to end a fine game and share the spoils.  The final gasps where played out by tense tyrants tackling with gusto - no real chances arose - the result I feel was mighty fair to all involved.  Man of the Match goes to Burscough's No 8 (Prince Ekpolo) who I thought epitomised everything good about tonight's game with a high work rate, incessant persistance and many neat touches from the midst of much aggravated mither.  It was a decent effort among many fine stints, good on ya and keep it up.  We headed home pleased, by heck ain't this footy lark good fun.

FINAL THOUGHT - Tonight we witnessed two mid-table teams who had no fear of the drop, no hope of promotion but who, nonetheless, gave a fine account of themselves and made sure all and sundry saw a fine competitive midweek match.  I think Irlam's key to their effectiveness comes down to the faithtful players who stick with the club and the cohesion and communication they have on the pitch, elements that always make them a tough nut to crack.  They have had several good cup runs this season, showing they can compete at a higher level when need be and make each and every team they meet earn their crust.  They have earned their premiership place and now the next step is to just nudge up the table - it is a real conundrum as to how this would be done as there seems no real flaw in this more than efficient side.  Burscough Borough are another capable side and have very little to criticise judging by today's effort.  They play with good tempo, have an on-the-ball awareness to applaud and if they are willing to pull the trigger when in a position of threat they may just scrape out a few more wins.  Their players work hard, they play for the full 90 minute stretch and I reckon there is more to come.  To prove my theory I will pop up to Burscough again very soon, it would be rude not to... talking of rude, did I ever tell you the tale of Tommy Smith's Love Moustache - well...perhaps another time, I shall stick to being positive rather than perverse!

Saturday 23 February 2019

BIRDS, BLOOMS, BRIGHT SKIES AND BALL-BOOTING

23rd February 2019 - Longridge Town 7 v 0 Carlisle City - Up early, I was tired, I had had some real dodgy dreams this week.  One night I was on the bog and evacuating the bowels - to my great surprise a crocodile fell out of my arse - I don't know what that means?   Another night saw me have it off with John Noakes, I never knew that it was his todger called Shep and not his pet dog - get down ya bugger, get down!  So, with bleary eyes and addled head me and the good lady set off and arrived at Brockholes Wildlife Trust Reserve in grand time.  My fine wife told me to behave and leave any sheep dogs alone.  Today we were up for a bit of birding, a full-English breakfast and some general mooching.  We had a fine walk, clocked up 49 species of bird, saw a few blooms with Colt's-Foot an early annual joy and noted a couple of bugs as well.  At the appointed time we set off for Longridge Town, arrived and took in the ambience of a new ground whilst partaking of a local brew and some free biscuits.  The pitch was in dandy condition, the air still clement, we expected this to be like the face of Tom Jones, a nip and tuck affair, little did we know that for one team at least, the nip would be a blip and the tuck and almighty fuck!

The teams graced the verdant surface, the pea trembled and the game was afoot.  Initially it was the guests who made the early running with their No 11 (Kyle Armstrong) displayed a footballing intelligence and knocking forth some decent balls for comrades to pursue.  As it turned out the first real shot on goal came at the opposite end of the park with No 11 (Richard Allen) latching on to a through ball and giving it a good old kicking.  The sphere was launch, elevation was high, the bar was missed by mere inches - alas on the wrong side!  Longridge soon acclimatised themselves to the task ahead, they started to play a passing game attempting to work their way through a somewhat tight defence.  Carlisle were forced into conceding a free-kick which No 10 of The Ridge (Thomas Ince) hit with high accuracy and strong impetus.  The top corner was missed by millimetres and the bar was left trembling like an aroused donkey's dongler.  The ball fell into space, the visiting defenders briefly paused, it was just enough to allow the quick thinking No 8 (Daniel Wilkinson) to pounce and slap home the first goal of the game.  

Longridge were now on it. They came again, a 2 on 2 situation arose, the visiting defender earned his crust and Carlisle came back.  A throw came, Armstrong nutted onward, No 9 (Robert McCartney) put in a weak up and downer and could only find the roof of the net.  Longridge rebounded, No 6 (Christopher Turner) advanced with purpose, the away team's alarm bells were ringing, they still allowed a shot to be released and must have been relieved to see it crawl inches wide.  Despite being run ragged Carlisle managed to create a short spell of pressure from the midst of which a cross came.  No 10 (Ryan Holmes) was on it although the touch was limp and the keeper easily gathered.  From here things became balanced, shots at each end lacked quality and the game remained in a precarious position.  A mistimed tackled saw two players get cobbled and the home fans spit disgust at seeing their man get booked .  A free-kick for Carlisle was drilled by their No 7 (David Renyard). The man between the sticks kept his peepers on the soaring sphere and tipped over.  A corner brought mayhem which ended in a wild lash from Longridge's Allen that nearly fell at the feet of a predatory striker.  The home No 1 (Lee Dovey) was once again quick off the mark - it was the last action of a very enthralling half.

Half-time and we stayed put, supped Fanta and I checked up on a few scores.  The break flew by, tis amazing what a bit of anticipation can do.

From the start of the second half Carlisle came out fizzing.  They were nearly caught with their trousers down though when No 9 (Jason Hart) found himself on the end of a breakaway, galloped with focus and put in a finishing touch that was just shy of the vertical.  Longridge came once more, No 7 (Isaac Sinclair) went on a surefooted spurt and was duly tumbled.  The free-kick was taken from distance, hit with mid-pace, kept low and somehow snuck in at the near post.  Ince was the executioner, he seemed rather pleased with himself and a trifle surprised - I think the mittman should have done better.  Longridge were soon trespassing forth once more, Hart was on it, put in a shot that was blocked, duly recovered, worked sideways and placed a pass. The ball was dummied, in crept No 8 (Daniel Wilkinson) and guided the ball homeward - it seemed so easy!

I expected things to settle from here but the hosts sizzled with focus, one attack was snuffed at the last and then Ince and Allen linked up with the latter player dragging the end punt...wide!   A few subs came, Longridge continued where they left off, Sinclair was at the helm and allowed to advance with purpose.  One touch, player passed, two touch, player passed, three touch, pick that out - marvellous goal and 4 - 0 it was with no way back for the guests.  The traffic was now an unstoppable flow down a one way street although Carlisle did dare to defy matters when Renyard refused to fall from a clumsy tackle, ran on and looked ready to fire when the home No 2 (Joseph Melling) put in a cracking tackle.  Longridge now worked all areas of the pitch, they were running their opponenst ragged and from another pass and move sequence, Ince knocked forth a peach of a ball for Allen to lightly touch and bring up the fifth goal of the game.  

Into the dog end of the game, Carlisle had a few nearly breaks, Longridge prodded and poked like a pervert dentist hell-bent on inflicting further pain.  The Town put together a masterclass move next with several players receiving and releasing before a touch back, an assist and Sinclair was allowed to finish and grab the goal of the game.  I thought that was it, no sooner had my pen left the note paper and Sinclair was in once more after a direct, dissecting sequence that left the visiting pack in disarray.  The No 7 grabbed the7th goal in the last minute of the game and after two more efforts by the hosts the referee ended proceeedings and 90% of those in attendance went homeward smiling.  Man of the Match for me goes to the Longridge Town No 10 (Thomas Ince) who plays with his brain, is a veritable dynamo that leaves some good thermal coverage and is always looking to play in that cute and killer ball to disembowel the opposing rear - applause aplentry sir.   This one had been a real footballing lesson - we pootled off convinced that we had seen one of the best performances of the season.

FINAL THOUGHT - Longridge Town are shite!  Longridge Town are a disjointed mess!  Longridge Town will never win promotion!  I Fungalpunk Dave talk out of my arse!   This was a beautiful performance, the best I had seen this year and a stint laden with many fine players and with an exhibition of football being played how it should be.  The team pass well, their awareness is exemplary, the roll that they are on almost unstoppable.   They played Carlisle off the park and the team from further up North are certainly no mugs.  Can you tell I was impressed - I think they will win this league, and on evidence such as this, they certainly deserve to.  Carlisle City must be applauded for the consistent chasing today and even when the game had been flushed away, travelled around the U-bend of disappointment and been crapped on for good measure (no crocodiles I am glad to say) they still dug in and tried their best to grab a consolation - this attitude will serve them well.  The league has now taken shape, Longridge are there to be fired at, Carlisle need to consolidate - I wish both units the very best, we will certainly be back at this ground and hopefully catching Longridge on their travels very soon. This had been a fine day out - if I was reading this I'd be inspired to get to the Mike Riding Ground as soon as - a friendly place, a good set up, football to savour on show - just do it!

Thursday 21 February 2019

REDS REVENGE

20th February 2019 - Bacup Borough 0 v 2 AFC Liverpool - Wednesday - one of those midweek day's that just come, go and barely leave a stain on the underpants of old Father Time.  Today however was different,  work was dealt with in good spirit and the call of a trip to Bacup Borough was obeyed.  Yesterdays footballing fix was cancelled due to the Mother-in-Law having an operation on her peeper that went a little awry.  She will be right though - a re-booking, a quick ocular fiddle and kaboom, eye's like a shit-house rat - well, that's the idea!  The journey to Bacup was steady and we arrived in good time, we acquired those golden fried oblongs, I duly baptised mine with that reliable  sanguine enhancement known as Ketchup whereas my wife opted for things 'au naturel'.  We chatted with a few folks, scoffed our scram and then picked our viewing spot for the night's entertainment.  The match was pondered as mastication took place, we made our predictions - I think no one would be shocked by the fact that we went for a draw but there was a reason for hesitancy - this is the mad world of Non-league Football and basically anything can happen.  So, the punters arrived, the players finished their warm-ups, I was hankering after more chips - I decided to be good and crack on with the report - here is the outcome.

The opening exchanges of the match bore no excitement, the hosts were just holding the greater territorial advantage but there was really nothing in it!  A free-kick came for the resident pack, No 10 (Michael Gervin) knocked in a precise ball which No 4 (Adrian Bellamy) nutted just over.  Little else in the way of thrills came as the claggy substrate was trampled beneath players looking to squeeze out a genuine chance.  The Reds hustled away, a half chance fell to No 3 (Bradley Owens) but the shot lacked chomp and caused no great concern.  Again the visitors came, a penalty shout was ambitious to say the least, the referee waved play on, the attack duly fizzled.  At the other end of the pitch another holler came for a spot-kick, again the man in black disagreed but then Bacup applied themselves, No 7 (Anthony Hall) had the ball around the edge of the box.  He dillied, he dallied, he eventually laid one off to Gervin who sent forth a rasper.  Another penalty claim fractured the night air, the outcome however was a corner kick.   The ball was hoofed in, a quick scuffling period was finalised by a shot from Hall – it was tame to say the least. 

The game dripped on, out of a dreary patch the Reds looked to add a splash of invigorating colour via a corner.   The delivery was quality laden, the ball knocked out and then re-posted with equal accuracy and pace.  No 10 (Jordan Foster) was in the right place at the right time, knocked the ball into the mesh and brought up a strike the game was screaming out for.  The travelling team now exuded a higher level of confidence but the game remained unliberated and without much give and take.  A few handbags were brandished here and there, Bacup were awarded a couple of free-kicks on the bounce, the second, taken by Gervin, was knocked to the back post, nutted back in and was there for the taking – the referee had spotted a foul – goal kick!  The game now became a messy affair, from a Liverpool free-kick a Bacup breakaway was the result.  No 12 (Louis Holding) travelled with high gusto, played a pearling pass that needed efficient defensive work to only give away a corner.  The corner came, now it was the guests turn to break, No 9 (Anthony Lyons) galloped into No Man’s Land and duly lost the ball – it had been one of those halves.  Before the break a gratis boot for the hosts needed mitted attention and that was that – 0 – 1 – in a very stodgy first 45 minutes of closely contested football.

The break was spent wandering to the opposite side of the ground and partaking of a warm drink. The wind was rather chilled and so, with tails and other bits between our legs we returned to where we had come from albeit this time standing and at the opposite side of the dug outs.  The game, in the main, was constipated, a laxative was needed or what is known as a 'Internal Earthquake' - this procedure uses hot spoons, 4 litres of Castrol GTX and a 50 watt light bulb - I think a laxative will suffice.

The second period started with Bacup shining brightest, a low drive was well saved and then Bellamy crept in and should have bagged an equaliser but was denied by the efficient keeper who saved well.  Another ball soon came into the Red's box, the defending No 6 (Lee McConchie) put head on ball and the No 1 (Lee Carr) did well to stretch and save.  Bacup used this moment as a catalyst to get their act together, a blazing 3 piece move was directed and dazzling, it was a shame that it was punctuated by a weak shot from Gervin.  The game was now open, something akin to footballing bowel movement was there for the fans to ponder.  Bacup came again, some fine link up play was executed, No 2 (Joshua Walne) appeared at the brunt end of matters and boomed high.  From here AFC Liverpool broke, No 11 (Louis Hayes) was at the apex of events, he was thwarted at the last by a quickly advancing keeper.  

Bacup continued to battle with pride, they were duly getting rattled by their opponents 'go-slow' antics, the language from the bench bordered on the Satanic, the referee was referred to as a 'fuckin' bastard', 'useless' and told to 'piss off' - and here's me thinking he was a lovely chap.  The hosts came next, flashed away from a Liverpool attack.  No 3 (Davison Banda) let fly a screamer, the save that came was top quality indeed.  The ball went loose, the danger was still at status 'shit the bed', alas the ball would not drop kindly for the home team and AFC Liverpool, continued to do what they had done all night, defending in good numbers.  Once again The Reds tried to build but were caught on the hop, this time No 11 (Matthew Dell) was at the end of events and sent in a low shot that was neatly saved.  2 throw-ins, 3 corners for Liverpool followed, The Borough Boys were now scrambling to stay in this one and when the final angled kick came and No 3 (Bradley Owens) touched goalward it was with great relief their keeper did just enough.  The away team now exerted a stranglehold, a ball came from nothing and was pushed wide, a cross flashed in and missed all potential assassins and wannabe defenders but a brief moment of hesitancy saw No 5 (Jonathan Croasdale) react and slap home to double his side's lead.  It was coming, it was a killer and as the game wound down and Bacup harried and hurried and asked many defensive questions their opponents always had the answers and saw this one out to the final blow of the whistle.  The Man of the Match tonight goes to AFC Liverpool's No 1 (Lee Carr) for keeping his side in matters, putting in some decent blocks and making sure his defense had a last man to rely on - it was a good contribution to a hard fought win.

FINAL THOUGHT - A real hefty bout of grinding soccer this, one that saw little between the competing packs and one that was decided by 2 goals out of much mither.  After being recently dumped out of a cup competition by Bacup the AFC Liverpool lads were up for revenge and maybe, that little bit of extra spite and desire, is what got them through tonight.  They are having a good season indeed, now sitting 4th in the division and no doubt looking to push on and finish in realms where nosebleeds and dizzy spells may be encountered.  They battle hard, defend as a pack and have a sprinkling of pace - it will be interesting to see what the final months of the season bring.   Bacup Borough are a decent outfit, they will finish in the top half of the season and may yet end up with some silverware.  They are a well drilled unit, strong throughout and with a resilience, tonight they just lacked a finishing edge and when faced with the prospect of a breakthrough just seemed to lack ideas.  To get the best out of the back end of the campaign they need to play with width, dash forth with passion when an attack is underway and defend as one solid unit with all players working back when necessary.  They will do OK though, a top half finish must be a certainty and if they do win the First Division Cup I think the season can be put down as a success - good luck lads.   We drove home a trifle fagged but happy with our visit to The Brian Boys West View Stadium - here's to the next time!

Saturday 16 February 2019

FRIDAY FOOTBALLING FIX

15th February 2019 - 1874 Northwich 3 v 2 Barnoldswick Town - Pay day, a time to celebrate and indulge (if only).   The day was sunny and bright, spring was in the air and may I add, a spring was in the step.  Alas I got carried away springing about and trapped a testicle in my 1874 Northwich underpants - I didn't hold it against the team and hoped they would do themselves proud tonight.  After the day's work was done, the said clattered conker plastered up and the underpants changed for a Barlicks Thong (with silk sensation addition) me and the good lady got our acts together and prepared to head out when I dropped the household keys and bent down to recover them rather too quickly.  The thong I was wearing went up my buttock cleavage and duly tore me a new anus, of the elongated and quite painful kind don't you know.   A delay was had, I nipped upstairs and changed once more - this time I opted for some North West Counties League snug-o-rama support rubbers - I shall remain a neutral as ever.  Arriving at the ground I had a hankering for some scram and warm liquid - I suppose if I was told to piss off that would, in some warped way, cover both targets (are you with me).  We duly purchased victuals cum refreshments, took up a viewing point and prepared for some Friday night football.  Saturday is out of the question for ball hoofing entertainment, I have the Blackpool Bastards coming to town - 9 bands plucking and puking and making a racket to admire - it must be done.   And so, with no further deviations and digressions I am ready to reveal what transpired on this February evening during this Macron Cup Tie - I thank you for your patience.

The start was a fizzed up scrapyard affair - bits and boots flying everywhere, very little room for anyone to create a fluent and worthy attack.  From the clanking and grinding No 7 (Zack Dale) had a snap shot from nothing but couldn't stop the ball from rising over the horizontal.  The same team began to hit many high balls, trying to confound their opponents with an aerial bombing, all to no avail.  The first corner of the match went against the grain, 1874 earned the angled kick, the ball came in, went up and was walloped by the firm boot of No 9 (Scott McGowan) who tried an audacious overhead kick.  The contact and execution were spot on, the carcass that got in the way was crucial - onwards we went.  A long ball from the hosts quickly ensued, the Barlick No 1 (Ryan Livesey) came and dropped under pressure.  The loose globe fell to McGowan who struck first time, Livesey recovered and put in a good honest save.  The hosts now had their peckers up (I hope those shorts can take the strain) and produced a laserbeam attack that added further illumination to an eye-catching game.  McGowan was involved in a great link up, knocked the ball out to No 7 (Mike Koral) who spurted, slapped in a cross and watched No 11 (Taylor Kennedy) pounce like a panther on a puppy, and touched home with a certain ease.  The perfect ending to a dazzling, frazzling move!

From here the lads of 1874 chased everything, displayed a desire not seen since Christopher Biggins was left in charge of a chip shop, they worked with extreme ardour - the fans became aroused.  A push came, pressure rose, the visiting keeper went on walkabout (what's new, what a nomadic madman), the ball was punted goalward, it was just too high.   Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, Barnoldswick hammered forth, 2 passes were played in double quick time and No 4 (James Crorken) thumped home in determined and decisive style - now where did that come from?  The game now grew in stature, the pace electric, both teams intent on playing one touch football.  Barnoldswick displayed a style that highlighted why they are in a lofted league position - very focused and direct, always looking to go forth with high impetus.  The Northwich pack though are no mugs, they read the game well, soaked up and after a break earned a free-kick.   The ball was delivered into the box, was knocked up, obeyed the gravitational pull and wham, No 6 (Jack Irlam) slammed home from all of 5 feet.  Soon after another gratis hoof saw Kennerley drive a low sizzler just shy of the vertical and then a corner was granted to the same advancing team.   The ball was struck like the conkers of a sex-staved rubber man (low and firm) and was met by the swinging shank of McGowan who connected with purity and gave his side a 3 - 1 lead.  

The half closed with great effort from both teams, a few late tackles and a yellow card - this had been a good contest, the clash of styles made for a game with many moments to ponder and we duly pondered whilst sat on our arses and staying put.  

Half two began with the guests making the early running with a shot by Dale blocked and one by No 9 (Jack Coop) rattled over.  2 corners followed, the second of which was played to the near post that forced the home keeper (Tony Agheyere) to block well from a quite cheeky flick on.  At the other end of the pitch Kennerley was nearly released but the Barlick keeper was roaming as per and duly did his worthwhile bit.  The match was laden with fine ingredients, I wondered what would be dished up next - I didn't have long to wait.  A frenzied moment saw the ball enter the Barlick box, 3 close-in shots came, 1 blocked, 2 solidly saved by Livesey who kept his side very much in the game.  The hosts were keen to keep pressing, Livesey still continued to leave his net area, an attack came, panic ensued,  a yellow card came and 1874 were given a free-kick.  The visitors survived, a settled period came and then a mistimed tackle by Barnoldswick's No 8 (Andrew Hill) ended with him taking an early bath.  There was nothing malicious in it, just a mistimed moment I thought - unlucky mate!

The game now looked to be only going one way, but the trailing side were far from done.  Dale went on a stunning run, he slipped through the attention of several defenders and shot with force.  The keeper parried, a clearance came, but Barlick were seen marauding again and duly earned a bonus boot on the periphery of the perilous zone.  Crorken was in command, he put in a sweet dig and quivered the sticks, another shot followed, deflection and corner.  The resultant ball in produced nothing, a few subs were duly had and from a 74 advance The Town counterpunched, No 15 (Teal Amos) was out wide and worked in with only one thing on his mind.  He weaved a spell, eyed the meshing and placed his shot with precision and gave this game one last gasp of life.  The interest levels rose, 7 minutes were on the clock, Barnoldswick huffed and puffed but couldn't blow the 74 house down, and after Irlam for the hosts drilled one at the keeper and some manic action the whistle for the end of play came and we, as punters, were left to chew on the fascinating soccerised cud.  A well competed game, many hard working performances and my Man of the match tonight goes to Barnoldswick's No 7 (Zack Dale) who provided much excitement, some fine quality and many options - he was unlucky to be on the losing side but these things happen and in truth 1874 Northwich did deserve it - just!

FINAL THOUGHT - Well, what can one say - what great value again.  We came, we paid our conkers and we saw 5 goals in a good cup game that was still undecided up until the shrill of the pea laden device.  Barnoldswick have nothing to be ashamed of with their performance tonight and, in some ways the loss could help them push on in the league and really make an impression in the upper echelons.  It would be gratifying to see and one must take time out to applaud them on the pace-riddled play, perspired effort and contribution to a Friday night clash.  1874 Northwich are always worthy of a Non_league nut's time, they play some attractive football, have many talented players and show a unity to admire.  I think tonight they earned their place in the next round and who is to say they won't lift the cup and bring great joy to the ever-enthusiastic faithful.  I shall keep an eye on matters, I may even find time to see the next round, it is a busy life being a supporter of this glorious DIY game.  To end - the chips went down well tonight, the tea warmed the cockles, the ambience was friendly and the game fair - the only gripe is that the aforementioned Mr Biggins has threatened me with a court case - good job I didn't mention the rubber cucumber!

Monday 11 February 2019

SAVED AT THE DEATH

10th February 2019 - AFC Liverpool 1 v 1 Bacup Borough (Bacup won 3 - 2 on penalties) - A good old mixed day today with a fine wander at Crosby Marina turning up 39 bird species and then a walk at Rimrose Valley being our 768th wildlife destination and keeping the legs moving.  We turned up at the ground early, had a local wander then returned and had a brew and some nosh before taking up our positions outside after chatting with a few decent folk.  I was kindly supplied with the teamsheets and as we stood and watched the teams warm up we did wonder who would come out on top.  The butt cheeks of Albert Steptoe were said to be rather close (tight-arsed git), the obscene mammary glands of that useless social lump Kim Kardashian are said to be in close proximity too but I reckoned this game would be much closer with the nipples of success only leaking for those that clamp on, suck with ardour and make sure they drain every last drop of promise right up until the final whistle.  My good lady predicted a draw, I fancied a Bacup win, in truth, we both were right come the end of the match, tis a strange old game!

The opening stages of this First Division Cup Quarter Final were keenly contested with little space available for any player from any team, to shine.  The home Reds had the first sizzling surge with a cross put in that was laden with pace and too hot to handle for the incoming No 11 (Harry Avis) who collected the ball with the crack of his arse rather than his feet.  The hosts continued to shade matters and display the greatest prong of promise.   They won 3 corners on the bounce, the Bacup Boys smothered all danger and on the third attempt broke with No 7 (Anthony Hall) leading the way, losing the ball and eventually regaining possession after a sharp pass from his comrade No 4 (Adrian Bellamy).  Hall got the noggin down, dashed at the angle and wham, banged the ball against the keeper who could only remove half the sting and watch it continue into his net.  The home pack looked mighty shocked by this rear end penetration (it can be painful), responded and won a free-kick that No 7 (Rhys Hardacre) thumped over the bar - disappointing.  

AFC Liverpool now worked harder, Bacup absorbed, Hardacre for the hosts had another dig but could only find the keepers awaiting arms.  The guests reacted, No 10 (Michael Gervin) won the ball from absolutely nothing, battled with zeal and let go a quite weak shot without any wallop - needless to say it was easily gathered up.  The AFC Liverpool lads hit back, Avis down the wing would not give up possession, he escaped a tricky situation and crossed to No 9 (Anthony Lyons) who cracked off a firm dig.  The travelling No 1 (Harry Turner) was asked a question and provided the right answer - a tidy save.  The balanced tussle saw time tick and chances remain an uncommon commodity.  Eventually
Lyons for The Reds burst forward, entered the box and was duly sandwiched between two defending bods - the referee was in no doubt - penalty.  Lyons decided to take the bonus kick himself, he hit the ball with good pace and good direction, the save that Turner produced was absolutely first class - applause rang out from all around the ground.  The ball came back in, the pressure briefly remained and then Bacup burst a bollock, broke with great impetus that saw a rattling cross fly across the goal mouth with No 11 (Matthew Dell) millimetres away from doubling his sides lead.  At the death we expected the scoreline to be settled for the break but AFC Liverpool summoned one last attack, a ball was flung into the box, No 10 (Callum Schorah) lived up to the sound of his name and touched the ball over the line - just.  The half ended soon after - it was edge of the seat stuff even though we were stood up.

We stayed put for half-time and cuddled and chatted to ignore the frisky wind who had a yearning to chill the privates - tis a rotten git that wind, and a pervert don't ya know.
 

Off we went again, the hosts displayed a hunger, one that was nearly sated by a snap shot from Schorah.  The ball was saved, came back soon after, this time with Lyons cracking over.  AFC Liverpool continued to press and play the ball around the box before Hardacre placed a sweet shot that the gloved Turner did well to read and save.  All Bacup could offer in return was a hopeful punt from halfway that was dealt with and a long range free-kick that went way too high.  Liverpool looked to have the major chance to get the next goal, Hardacre put in some dinky work, crossed and saw the ball get turned over.  The penalty claim was borne from overexuberance and a touch of madness I thought.  The match remained on a knife edge and the midfield was where most of the combat took place.  A few corners and shots came each way - bite and direction were lacking on all deliveries until Hardacre release a stunning curler to the top corner with ample pace.  The guest keeper sprang, stuck out a mitt and produced yet another quality soaked save - a marvellous effort indeed.  Soon after a free-kick came the same way, No 5 (Jonathon Croasdale) tried one close in but the keeper was on hand once more, he was having a great game.

A lengthy period of bustling came with both teams digging away but finding no light at the end of their prospective tunnels.  The effort put in was 100%, sometimes even that is not enough to break the netting.  Into the arse end we went, No 12 (Matthew Corke) for AFCL went on a crafty, powerful run, he was halted at the last, the ball was released and Hall at the other end had a shot just wide of the sticks.  Bacup had a free-kick slammed into the wall and on the death a corner saw the ball enter, get knocked out, put back in, headed and saved on the line - man that was close.  There wasn't much in this, it was too tough to call, the referee was of the same frame of mind and decided penalties would be the answer.   The whistle blew, the folks flocked to the goal of destiny - we had a great view where we were - this is how the shoot-out went.

First up was Lyons of AFC Liverpool and a solid kick rippled mesh.  Gervin for the opposition knocked in a comfortable spot kick next and levelled matters and then Hardacre followed and blasted over.  Bacup now had the upperhand, Hall cemented this fact with a cool strike and then
Liverpool's No 4 (Marc Stephens) kept his team in with a squeak with a cool execution.  No 5 (Laquan Esdaille-Biney) responded with an equally chilled hoof and made sure this one was going to the wire.  No 16 (Jordan Foster) was burdened with pressure, he struck on target but the save was solid and then Darcey O'Connor for the visiting tribe followed up and got the same result as the keeper did what was asked of him.  The ball was now placed on the spot, AFC Liverpools' No 10 (Callum Schorah) had to nail this to keep his team in it.   He approached the globe, struck well, Turner in the nets sprang and saved with solid reliance.   It looked all over, the Bacup players dashed forth in a celebrating wave - the referee saw a keeping infringement, 'please take again' was the order.  The tension was tactile, Schorah had a chance to redeem himself and save his sides ass.  The striker came forth, put toe on ball, the crowd held their breath - bang, bar struck, game over - Bacup Borough were on their way to the next round.  We had paid our money, took our chance and witnessed a thriller with a great contributer to this scenario and my choice of Man of the Match being Bacup Borough's No 1 (Harry Turner).  A series of great saves made sure his side got to the shoot out and when the time came he did enough to tip the scales and help the game go the way of the travellers.  A fine stint, a pleasure to behold - thank you mate.  We went home both chilled and warmed - anyone in attendance will understand this physical paradox!

FINAL THOUGHT - You can't beat variety - hence my passion for noise, nature and non-league football.   All areas are dealt with at ground level and for me, as proven today, it is always where greatest joy will be found.  The day to day shit gets on my tits, putting back for all three areas will hopefully enthuse others to have a nosey and if it does then they are in for a treat and will have less time to indulge in nonsense.  The teams today were difficult to separate and put in their all in a contest that was a clash of styles and one intriguing encounter.   AFC Liverpool were mightily unlucky and if, like a boxing match, the game would have been decided on points after the end of play, they would have surely won it by a split decision.  There were many positives to take from today, some good pace, quick thinking and a few narrow squeaks that could have finished this one early in the game.  Bacup are no mugs though and are something of a solid team that give little away in any area.   There is a strong nucleus of players and a variety of style that, with a little tweak here and there, could catapult them onto bigger and better things.  I hope both teams do well, they are always worthy of my time and play some decent football and I shall be at both grounds again at some point in the not too distant future - real football for real people and even old punk bastards like me (and the missus) - oh aye!

Saturday 9 February 2019

NOMADS BACHED AGAINST THE WALL

9th February 2019 - Cheadle Heath Nomads 1 v 3 Sandbach Utd - Today's game looked like a stunner, a real tight tussle between two strengthened teams looking to finish the season with a flourish - I was intrigued.  The day started with a roam at Fletcher Moss, enjoying the bracing breeze and of course, the wildlife.  I am offside at the mo but that is no reason to sit still - I saw many birds and a few other bits and pieces - work on the new book is incessant, one has to keep up.  Half a chicken was consumed for dinner whilst watching 'Rising Damp' - the pains in the privates may not be prostatitis or kidneys stones after all and maybe my 'Damp' is 'Rising' - ooh Rigsby!  After catching up with the wildlife notes I got my act together and wandered out.  The missus was off having here eyes checked (I am sure my nob isn't that small) and doing a spot of shopping - I hope I get a treat!  I walked down to the ground with my neighbour Sue who was taking her dog for a walk.  She had recently dyed her hair and looked like a female Jimmy Saville, her dog also had a hard on - I think she needs to check the hormone levels in her water supply - quite shocking!  Arriving at the ground and salutations to many fine folk were had, STP Stu was in attendance and after chits and chats we took up our positions for the days entertainment.  It was mighty grand to catch up again with John McClure - the guy is a keen footballing supporter, runs 'Your Football Page' on Facebook and is a gent - a nice bonus!  Today I was expectant, my prediction was made - some things I must keep secretive to spare any blushes (I made sure my trousers were done up tight too).



The fresh air blew, the game began, the team to gain the first foothold was the hosts who passed with care and looked to get some feel of the ball.  Both teams though looked fairly unsettled and were guilty of rushing matters - a crime all too often committed.  The first real chance came when the home No 10 (Kieran Herbert) hurtled down the flank, sent in a low fizzing cross that no doubt scorched the arses of a few unsuspecting slugs.  The ball was met by No 9 (Richard Tindall) who failed to get close to the target - disappointing.  The promise was there though but Sandbach eventually acclimatised to the task and came on with No 10 (Harry Cain) a repetitive menace and nearly having several chances to shoot but remaining a little trigger shy.  As Cheadle looked to build the ball was given away, No 8 (William Buckley) was the beneficiary and raced forth and let fly.  The home No 1 (Aaron Tyrer) did enough and conceded a corner rather than a goal.  The angle hoof came, the ball went out, Herbert for the hosts bust a bollock to help kill the peril - good work that man.  From here a lot of hustling and hollering came but alas no end product.  A stunning move from the hosts brought high hopes, No 8 (Isaac Graham) was the integral playmaker and made a sound pass, received, knocked out a tidy ball for No 2 (Craig Coates) to duly cross.  The defending pack held firm and the resultant corner was cleared without fuss.  


The game progressed, Cheadle kept rushing matters and played with fire at the back with Sandbach keen but just lacking a sharpness at the killer end.  A bout of Nomadic pressure saw Tindall nip in between two rear bods but the touch that came could only find the awaiting mitter.  From here half-chances came at each end with both benches becoming increasingly frustrated.  The Nomad football coach, David Potter (complete with new boot boy haircut) was looking stressed, the cheap wine I saw him slurping before the match wasn't working - stay calm lad, stay calm and remember - QC Sherry, £5.99 a bottle from most corrupt retailers or back-street porn shops!  The last 5 minutes of the half were hectic, but composure and control were rare commodities and the goal mouths, like the rear end of Pope John Paul the 3rd, remained unpenetrated (see you in court).  Sandbach did come on strong but the hosts showed that their survival manual had been well thumbed and they hung on to the break to go in all square. 

Half-time and a brew and Mars Bar and shock, horror, news had come through that Neville Pearson (Cheadle Heath Club Secretary) had escaped from his wooden cage and was on the prowl with a reason to waffle.  Thankfully one quick-thinking bloke had attended the match with a butterfly net and after a brief Benny-Hill style chase Mr Pearson was bagged and put back in his timber prison - and serve him right, he called out the wrong number for the Raffle and left me prizeless - ooh the corrupt rotter!

Half-two, long ball by Sandbach, No 9 (Josh Lane) on it - the shot was not even close. The Nomads came back with 2 corners that brought no return and then, as a train went by that was the length of Sammy Davis' todger, Sandbach advanced with No 11 (Kieran Garner-Knapper) at the apex.  The ball was blasted wide but I was so intrigued that as I looked on and finished my Mars Bar I ended up ingesting a piece of the wrapper and nearly choked to death - cripes.  As Sandbach thrust again, they were caught on the hop by a fleet-footed counter.  Herbert was involved and executed a lovely touch with Tindall bungled to the floor and a free-kick earned.  Graham took the kick, a strike came, the near post was just missed.  As the game continued one observer classed matters as 'shite', I tried to remain more upbeat and as another free-kick for the home lads went over the bar I did wonder if we were headed for a goalless draw!

The close affair became a gamblers nightmare, Lane for the guests tried to make a breakthrough.  In a forward position he went one way, then the other, shot too late and a blockage came.  A corner next, No 12 (Aidan Houghton) close in - over.  Suddenly the Heath Army were on it, No 7 (Jack Warren) went on a storming run, released at the right time and up stepped Tindall to do what he does best and guide the ball homeward - Cheadle Heath Nomads needed it, the game needed it, the onlookers needed it - game on for sure.  Subs came, the hosts tails were up, but Sandbach were pushing with greater passion and many balls came into the box all contributing to a rising pressure.  Two shots followed, the crust of No 11 (Stephen Kirby) and No 3 (Adam Stuart) got in the way as Cheadle Heath got pulled one way and another and were in need of a calming moment.  Suddenly another free-kick came, it was a soft kick and a head went up and the ball ended up in the net - what the bloody hell went on there?  Sadly it was an own goal, No 4 (Zac Tyson) was utterly unlucky - chin up lad, shit happens.

We now entered the last 10 minutes, Herbert had the ball for the resident pack, an attempt at a crossfield ball went all awry and actually went backwards.  An opposing player collected and headed forth on goal.  Haughton was the man at the helm, he stayed cool, eyed his spot and put one past the keeper to surprisingly bag the lead.   Cruelty and quality had copulated and given birth to a spiteful bastard who had punched the home lads in the vulnerable conkers - darn the vulgarity of the footballing fanny.  From here Sandbach marauded with renewed belief, a free-kick came from an innocuous position with Buckley knocking a gorgeous ball across the park for Cain who cut in, beat his marker, fired with zeal and signed, sealed and delivered with a solid strike.  It was an unexpected turn and during the closing flickers both No 10's had further shots but the final blow of the whistle came and somehow this game had produced 4 goals and the home lads were beat.  For me the game had been 50/50 throughout but if you take your chances the cookie will always crumble your way. Man of the match goes to Sandbach United's No 5 (Kris Stockton) for a solid performance that was quiet but efficient, without flamboyance but very controlled.  It is good to have a reliable lynchpin at the back - this was a tidy do and gave little in the way of opportunity for the battling opponents.  Farewells, a quick piss and home - you can't beat these days out.

FINAL THOUGHT - Well, please explain if you can how this ended up 1 -3 besides the fact that the home team scored one and the visitors bagged a trio of strikes.  In retrospect it was a messy game with very little in it and the deciding factor was a bit of luck and the taking of the few opportunities that arose.  I always enjoy my trips to this ground, the staff are darn friendly folk, the team give 100% and there is a fine camaraderie that will, given time, pay huge dividends.  For me, the team's biggest mistake today was rushing matters when there was no need and failing to settle down and make their move with focused decisiveness - there also seemed to be less communication than usual - a facet that is always a must.  Sandbach Utd are a solid outfit, not to be taken lightly and today, even though they were held in check in the main and failed to generate a true spark, they still manged to get the win and progress further into this First Division Cup.  That is the sign of a very good team and if one cares to look at the league one can see that they are still very much in the mix there too.  These two teams meet again in a few weeks, that one will be another touch and go affair and I reckon could go either way.  There were many things to learn from today's game, the question is - who will be doing their homework?  Get your studious heads on lads or the cane will be brandished - ouch!