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!

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