DOWNPOURS, DECISIONS, SEASON DONE

27th April 2019 - Ashton Town 3 v 2 Chadderton FC - We awoke with a set itinery, the clocks and the climate cocked up our arrangements and with twisted knickers I went on-line to try and salvage something from the day.  As I rode the web-waves the rain outside piddled down, the cold air crept beneath the door and had me reaching for my thermal jockstrap (an Athur Scarghill version from the 1970's - it may not be fashionable but the inner lining of ginger hair adds to the comfort and the sexual value).  Ideally we wanted to finish the season with a team overlooked (aren't they all) but one that would provide cover and not leave us soaked to the skin and grumpy.  A few messages were sent via Twitter, responses were non-existent or slow, the onus was on us to decide - ooh me nerves.  In the end I opted for The Scott Rees & Co Stadium and set out with hopes of a decision made that would prove highly fruitful.  The rain was still falling as we travelled down and the chill was ruddy nasty - thank buggery I remembered my Betty Boothroyd nipple cups - what an investment.  Upon arrival at the ground something warm was sought and rather than look in the urinals (there are some right deviants about) we hit the tea rooms and partook of the warming leaf and a fantastic Lemon Muffin.  We confabulated with the amiable Peter Morgan of the Ashton in Makerfield Amateur Radio Club and discussed a bit of punk rock and other music.  A nice chap for sure!  We eventually headed out into the mucky maelstrom, took up our position with a few other hardy lunatics and watch the game unfold.  Here are my observations via a dampened notepad, dithered hands and rain spattered glasses.

The start to the game was highly febrile, the first action came via a free-kick for Chadderton right on the edge of the box.  The contact that came was firm enough, the elevation though was high and the ball flew into the sky.  The game continued in a good open style, No 11 (James Sigsworth) for Ashton went on an intentional run, put a ball in that No 3 (Luke Edwards) cracked slightly shy of the vertical.  The ball now went back and forth as both teams bust a gut to try and gain the upperhand,  The Chadderton No 3 (Ben Matthews) was robbed by the home No 7 (John Edgerton), the head went down, a run had and a shot was dragged just wide.  Chadderton came next, the mithering No 9 (Connor Berry) pilfered, snuck in and put in a low shot that was saved well by the keeper - this was a very frisky start despite the quite horrible weather.  Ashton were looking the more fluent and knocking some above average balls around the park.  With the wind at their backs though they needed to capitalise on matters and grab that crucial first goal.  No 9 (David Moore) put his honest crust on a free-kick but couldn't keep the ball on target and then some tetchiness crept in with Chadderton arising from the ill-temper via a flashing cross from their No 7 (Leo Iluobe) that No 11 (Joseph Richards) just failed to make contact with.  

Further into the half we went, Ashton advanced, a scuffed shot saw Moore collect and fire,  The visiting keeper (Jordan Hadlow) stretched and tipped over with eye-catching quality.  The corner came in, went out, Edgerton collected, turned quicker than a whizzed up Dr Jekyll and let fly - once again the strike zone was missed.  The game continued at a good pace, the home defence dawdled, a swift Chaddy attack came, Iluobe finalised with a looping finish onto the roof of the net.  Some good endeavour was being shown from both teams, the deadlock was there to be broken, Chadderton's No 10 (Corey Kelly) tried his best to do do just that but his drilled shot just lacked direction.  A corner was the result, ping pong erupted (now where was Desmond Douglas when you needed him).  The ball went out, a repeat situation arose the other side, the cross was rock solid, the mittman's punch up to the task.  The ball was nutted back, put out and then No 4 (Jordan Butterworth) executed a quite sweet strike and found the back of the net in cracking style.  Chadderton now had their tails up, another crackerjack cross came, Iluobe rose and just failed to make a crucial connection.  The half closed with another corner for the visiting tribe, it was hammered in just above the sodden greenery, the hosts struggled to clear and No 3 (Ben Matthews) had a strong strike that was mighty, mighty close.  The half ended, it had been a decent do!

Half-time and a dash through the storm for a brew and back out to watch the sweetly balanced second half - I am sure we must be cracked.

Strong urgency was shown by each side at the start of this closing period, Ashton were sprightly, Sigsworth gained early possession, worked in and provided a great cross for No 14 (Dylan Glass) to glance just passed the far stick.  The same team pushed once more, a lovely dinking pass by Moore found No 8 (Bradley Aspinall) who sent in a pile-driver that was blocked and then another attempt that was safely saved.  Ashton made a substitute, the No 12 (Bradley Smart) made a quality first touch with a choice feed to No 16 (Matthew Johnson) who was just denied by the quick reacting keeper.  From further fuss Chadderton broke and after a foul were granted a bonus boot.  The ball was delivered well, Iluobe sprung like a Jack-Rabbit undergoing a prostate examination and with his well-timed crust glanced the ball into the net.  0 - 2 - this was a sound away performance of smash and grab proportions, what could Ashton do to get back in this one?

The home lads eventually set about a response, Johnson was forced wide but stuck to his task, displayed some tidy tootsies and put the globe on to the head of Moore who was there to finish - now this was more like it - the fat lady was still only warming up her vocal chords, when the warbles come who would be dancing in triumph.  Almost immediately a whistling cross came the other end, Iluobe flew in but failed to make contact - now that was too close for comfort.  The Town were now akin to some testicular mites, they were guilty of dwelling on the ball!  Chadderton had chances to kill the game, eventually No 12 (James Horan) let fly and was only inches wide.  The visitors came once more, No 11 (Joseph Richards) ran like the wind, put a good lay off to Berry who hit a first time shot.  The save was regulation, the ball duly cleared.  Ashton were looking unsettled, Kelly lashed one towards the home goal, the wind increased the impetus, the end result wasn't that far off the mark.  As the hosts dug deep they eventually won a free-kick right on the edge of the box.  Smart was the man looking to level the scoreline.  The wall stood firm, the keeper crouched, the ball was cheekily tickled low and neatly trickled into the inside of the post.  It was a moment of quick thinking, 2 - 2 - now for the run in.

Ashton had another free-kick, the ball was blocked, Edwards followed up - wild man, wild.  Moore for the resident lads showed good commitment and went on a mission from which he was tumbled.   Another gratis hoof was awarded, this time Smart made it too easy for the keeper.  A sweeping move the same way soon followed, one pass, ball in, Glass was there to bury first time, a wonderful save was the outcome.  No sooner had I gathered my thoughts and Ashton rolled onward again. Moore was at the latter end and placed a peach of the pass for Edgerton to run onto.  The head was kept, the striker stole a snippet of time, picked his spot and wham - the winner was had and the home pack were celebrating in the corner.  What a fine strike to finish a ruddy good game.  Before the full time whistle the visiting crew's substitute put bonse on ball and came excruciatingly close - it was the last hoorah and the final whistle came soon after and the turn-around by the home team was complete. The Man of the Match goes to Ashton Town's No 5 (Anthony Potts) who was pretty rock solid today, worked like a donkey in the nasty conditions and held things together in a very hectic game - a very effective effort.  

FINAL THOUGHT - And that is that, a great way to bow out of the NWCFL season with a 3 - 2 home win that really was a pleasure to behold.  Both teams gave all, they played in conditions to test their mettle and came out with their heads held high.  Now at the end of the season the teams can gather their thoughts and ponder what could have been!   Chadderton have under-achieved, they are better than their finishing position and on the few occasions I have seen them have played some very good football.  A few changes in staff and player have hindered the flow, a situation that is all too common in these lower leagues, but if the nucleus of this team can be kept, some sincere hard work on the fitness levels is had over the summer you can bet your buttocks on a top half finish next year.  Ashton Town are a tough unit and today displayed a spirit that is always going to serve them well.  With focus, eye on the ball attention and a solid belief they can progress from their 9th place finish and should be looking to the top 6 at least.  Any team that goes 2 goals down and pulls out a win in conditions like this must have something good going for it - I will certainly be visiting this ground a couple of times at least next year and hope the same qualities are on show.  So season done, 5 goals to finish, 2 cups of tea and a cracking lemon cake - and all for a fiver - by heck, roll on the next campaign.

GRATIS GRINDING GAME

25th April 2019 - 1874 Northwich 1 v 0 Whitchurch Alport - The day had been spent leading a wildlife walk for some stressed out carers who needed a break from their trying lives.  We saw 59 species, enjoyed each others company, kind weather and a tea and cake finish.  I was dropped off at home and cracked on.  Whilst catching up I had the TV on in the background, a cross-eyed cretin was on Jeremy Kyle, was duly patronised, taken the piss out of and then failed a lie detector test after pleading his innocence.  He claimed to have never been near a toothless farmers daughter but the test proved he had got her 'up the duff', was found to have had duck feathers in his underpants and had a suspiciously smelling todger that had a hint of bacon.  The farmer's one-legged homosexual brother made an appearance and turned out to have had a threesome with the aforementioned donator of sperm and a squinting chicken.  I do despair at times and in future will be checking any eggs I have for breakfast.  I managed, despite the arousing distraction, to get my tasks done, welcomed my fine lady home from work and we set off for football in good time.  We arrived, supped tea, chomped chips and awaited a good competitive game.  I procured a teamsheet from Vicki England, a real Non-League doofer and unsung hero of the 1874 machine - keep at it lady, tis a marvellous job you do. Tonight was a 'free entry' do, what a fine gesture from a fine club we always look forward to catching up with - I will use the money we saved to donate to the 'Groomed Chicken's Awareness Group' - they do a clucking good job.

The game began with the sun in the mush and causing us to shield our eyes and save our crucial retinas.  The home team initially commanded matters, moving the ball this way and that and just finding themselves wanting in the final third.  From the somewhat quiet period exploded a scuffle that involved most of the players making for a right fiasco.  From the melee 2 red cards were issued, one for each side, the touch paper had been lit, there was now more space available on the pitch for a wide open game.  Still the hosts dictated but their opponents remained infrangible at the back and in truth contributed to what became a trying chess match.  Eventually a corner came for the pressing pack, the punt in was hit low and hard with the eternal predator No 9 (Scott McGowan) neatly wrapping his foot round the ball and sending forth a decent shot that needed a block on the line.  The first 'ooh' of the night went up from the thrill-starved crowd and then we returned to level 'tame'.  The half trickled on like the urine from an old codgers nob (ooh it were a struggle) with Whitchurch primarily in a 'soak up and spurt' mood.  From nowhere an 1874 corner was won, the ball in was accurate enough with the visiting keeper punching away in resolute style.  The ball fell to the feet of No 11 (Taylor Kennerley), a super looper was sent back in and looked set to drop beneath the bar before the No 1 (David Parton) sweetly tipped over.  The angled kick from the other side was short, No 5 (Lee Jackson) was on it but could only place his effort wide.  

There was only enough time left now for a final flourish and it was without surprise that it came the way of the resident tribe.  A ball was sprayed out wide, a long arcing cross looked innocuous enough but fell to the outstretched peg of No 7 (Mike Koral) who just made enough significant contact to send the globe around a wrong-footed keeper and into the net.  The game and the punters desperately needed this goal and it set matters up quite nicely for the second period.   The closing seconds of the first half brought no further titivation - we stayed put for the break and pondered what could be.

The early throes of the follow-on period saw 1874 make all the running with Whitchurch content to look for a surprise break.  One opportunity did arise, with No 11 (Arron Johns) released.  The ball was gathered, the player at the helm cut inward and looked laden with mean purpose - the shot that followed was deflected and went out for a corner.  No 7 (Lee Pickerill) delivered, the header that came was overstretched and just a trifle late, as a result it was disappointingly off target.  From here the Alport pack started to bear fangs of threat and nibbled at the 74 areas deemed vulnerable (sexy hey).  Another corner came for the guests, it was too long and nutted off target but there was a hint of promise in the air and one wondered if things were about to change.

A midfield mush was broken by a wonderfully struck pass from the hard-working home No 8 (Matt Woolley) next.  Kennerley connected, dashed and delivered from out wide with a defensive noggin forced to concede a corner.  The angled hoof was hammered in, the rising nut couldn't find the target - as you were folks.  We soon entered the last blasts, the defending ranks were dictating the terms, they were tighter than the buttocks of a weightlifting Gibbon and penetration was at a minimum.  Kennerley for the hosts was working away, he had another dash down the flank, put the ball in to McGowan who laid one off with No 10 (Jake Parker) attempting to thump a bobbling ball first time but not being able to keep things on target.  The hosts continued to prod and poke like vindictive dental surgeons, the Whitchurch Alport lads were not submitting without a fight though and no matter how hard the 1874 crew tried to strap them down they offered enough resistance to keep things on a precipice.  Eventually Northwich found some joy, the ball went out wide, a quick low cross came and missed all defenders - McGowan was free, a couple of yards out with the keeper to beat.  I reached for the pen to scribble 2 - 0 in my notes, McGowan swung, the ball left boot, the keeper sprawled and...made a very good save.  This was an unexpected outcome, the hosts were undeterred and came again.  Woolley belted one from distance, the post was clattered, how unlucky was that?  Another cross came, Kennerley was there to bury but his neck was too short and the ball was left unmolested.  The last throw of the dice came for Alport, some quick passes and No 15 (Joshua Hewett) chanced one - in truth it was a ruddy good effort that sailed over by mere inches, crikey that would have been a stunner.   

The game ended with a late tackle, another scuffle, many raised voices and some pointless verbals that continued on and off the pitch after the game had finished.  I do believe some people need to go home and ahem 'have a good wank' and I do suggest that next years 'sin bins' should be fitted with certain milking devices so as to drain the conkers of any unruly 'erberts, relieve them of much unnecessary tension and send them about their way in a much more focused frame of mind.  Remember - passion should never equate to stupidity - passion should always equal positivity and on a positive note I shall end with Man of the Match going to the 1874 Northwich's No 2 (Sam Hind) who gave a reliable performance, got on with his job in a steady unassuming way and did what needed to be done without fuss - I always like a good solid No 2 (oooh me arse).

FINAL THOUGHT - I would be a fraud if I were to say this game had been a classic, in fact I could very well see myself facing court-proceedings if I were to publicly state that this match was a good un'.   If truth be told it was a dull affair, a bit like the bedroom antics of Clement Freud and Captain Mainwaring's reclusive, yet dominant, wife, Elizabeth.  You can see why both teams have struggled this year - there is just a little bit of extra chomp needed and perhaps a little more creativity required.  On their day, both teams can match the best but dealing with all situations, set ups and and seasonal posers is no easy task and for me  a good rest is now needed, a summer of negotiations and tactics partaken of and the new season tackled with fresh gusto, new found focus and great desire.  Before all that though 1874 Northwich have a certain final to indulge in against the might of the Purple Army.   We don't know if we can make that one yet - I will certainly be trying though as it looks a mouth-watering prospect.  In equally salivating contemplation is the a new season with trips back down to this favoured ground and of course Whitchurch Alport too - talk about spreading onself too thinly!  It will soon come around folks but in the meantime, let us enjoy what we have of this one!

BROMIDE FOOTBALL

22nd April 2019 - Cheadle Town 0 v 2 Cheadle Heath Nomads - The Bank Holiday is nearly done - the weather had been capricious an indicative of changing times very much for the worse.  We had cracked on, the lass had been home from Uni and we had been here and there, watched a footy match and indulged in a few films.  We waved her off at Platform Zero today, came home and sorted a few chores.  I had some moths in the fridge, they were duly identified and set free along with a couple of Nomad Bees that need further scrutiny.  At 12.30pm prompt we arrived at this local ground to feast our peepers on a game played for bragging rights and precious pride.  My good lady joined me today and we met up with STP Stu and had a good chat to the charming folk who are at the helm of The Nomads venture.  A few other fine folk were in attendance (John D take a bow and Abbey Hey Pete was eventually located) all looking forward to a solid game, played with high energy and with goals a plenty.  Our chosen hot-spot today was in the sun, the weather is set to change so you gotta get what solar goodness you can, when you can (unless of course you go for the Ronseal option like George Hamilton).  Eventually the sun-kissed turf was blessed with the two competing armies, there are very few games left of the season left, it would be good to finalise matters on a wham bam high point.

As perspiration began to flow, the ogled ball was hoofed with ardour, the first suggestion of excitement came via a half-chance for The Town's No 9 (Desley Osakwe) with the resultant punt not even close and setting a standard for the day very rarely bettered.  After a bout of cranial tennis the guests had a chance of their own with No 9 (Richard Tindall) touching a sweet ball to No 10 (Leon Grandison) who missed his first chance to shoot and then had a dig that was reliably saved.  A corner followed, the ball went in, and out and the hosts tried to break but all to no avail.  Many clumsy tackles impeded the flow further, final balls were void of quality.  Two mis-kicks came from opposing players with a corner to the Nomads akin to a letter forced through one's letterbox by a fingerless postman - an awful delivery for sure.  The match became stagnant, a Buzzard flew over head, seemed to consider hanging around but carried on with its journey in the hope of finding something more rewarding - it was one of those days it seemed.  

Huff and puff, push and shove - the chance of ever sporting a footballing erection was long gone and thought of going home and reading 'The Erotic Tales of Arnold Ridley' seemed highly tempting.  My wife basked in the sun, into the last ten of the half we went, a passing Nomads fan described the half as 'shite', he seemed to have mastered the art of understatement.  Suddenly, the quiet spell was broken, a lengthy ball was delivered, at the apex of hope was No 11 (Stephen Kirby) who placed a cross onto the bonse of No 7 (Callum Collinson).  The way the game had gone I expected the ball to deflate on contact and the player to set up an in-box discussion on the political sway of the Pythagoras theory.  Not so - the ball left the flesh of the noggin and thundered into the net - it was too much for some, one fellow reeled with the overload of excitement and it needed several officials to drain his rather inflated dongler - wow  - surely this goal was the start of something noteable.  The Town now came alive, a free-kick after much mither was rubbish and Grandison tried an audacious shot from the half-way line that was equally poor - the half time whistle was a welcome relief.

We wandered for a drink at half-time and took up new positions in the elevated stand.  From ye Gods we expected something different for the second period - a touch paper had been lit, surely it would lead to a conflagration to remember - alas I asked to much.

The Nomads were out sharply for half two, good pressure was applied without any end result.  A bit like squeezing a boil on an elephants arse - a lot of straining and squeezing but no prize pus for all the effort!  Cheadle Town gained a glimpse of joy via persistent endeavour and the Nomads nearly broke but an off-side rule extinguished any flames of promise.  Eventually the hosts worked through, a dubious free-kick was granted, No 8 (Callum Knight) received, made a good run that was forced out wide but still put in a low cut-back.  The home No 12 (Shaquille Lewys) dashed in, was mere feet out and only had to nail the globe - how the Hell he put it over the bar is beyond me.  Soon after this the home No 10 (Rhys Clooney) burst through, he released but the Nomadic No 1 (Aaron Tyrer) spread himself and duly saved with his plates of meat.  The corner that followed was utterly dreadful!

The visiting tribe dug deep, No 8 (Kieran Herbert) knocked a choice touch, Grandison dashed down the flank and sent on a daisy cutting ball that Tindall latched onto but put shy of the stick.  Another long ball came the same way, No 6 (Phillip Yuille) sent in a looper but Collinson was denied on the line by some great defending.  The hosts were still in this with No 5 (James Dunn) at the back doing a grand job and Clooney up front always a danger.  A crack on goal did eventually come with Knight sending forth a good daisy-beheader that was closer than the rather relaxed goalkeeper seemed to think - now that could have been interesting.  Onwards the game staggered like a one-legged Oliver Reed look-a-like on a bender.  A hold-up was followed by a pop from Grandison that nearly caught the home keeper with his conkers cold and suddenly we were into extra time.  With these last throws Cheadle Town had two golden chances - the first via Osakwe who turned, passed to No 6 (Oliver Hatfield-Banton) who drilled in a shot that was too straight for its own good.   The second opportunity arose through No 15 (Joseph Neild) who delivered a great cross that Clooney pounced on but could only place into the keeper's arms.  Time was now running out when a home back pass was botched up by the keeper and No 11 (Stephen Kirby) duly gathered.   Negotiations around impeding players were carried out, cool was kept and the player in possession stroked home, doubled his sides lead and made sure the 3 points were going down the road.  The game had been one to not get too aroused by with very little in it, Cheadle Heath Nomads deserved it and man of the Match for me goes to No 8 (Kieran Herbert) for running himself into the ground, providing a spark and maintaining a high work rate until he was substituted.  Farewells to some fine folk were had, I was set a challenge to make the report interesting - polishing turds is indeed a tricky tasks and I hope my tapping digits don't stink too much.

FINAL THOUGHT - This match like the disappointment a hormone riddled teenager feels when he forks out a wedge for a cellophane wrapped copy of 'Tits and Todgers' only to find that all the vital parts of the anatomy are blacked out.  It was like the time I went on a blindfolded shoplifting spree to find I had been arrested for pinching 3 chunky knit cardigans and a pair of incontinence pants - a very disappointing experience.  Both teams tried to get going but it just wouldn't happen today - the reason being perhaps tired legs, the unexpected thermals, the baked pitch, a clash of styles.  Sometimes these things are unaccountable and you just have to suck it and see.  Come what may though, for the summer months Cheadle Heath Nomads are the kings of the home turf and can carry the winning impetus into the new season.  In fact if they win their last match they have had a good flourish and sometimes winning ugly is an indicator of a darn fine squad.  Cheadle Town just weren't on it today and have stuttered through the season never hitting the ground running.  They have had a few zeniths (a 13 goal game one such pinnacle) but consistency is lacking, it is a key ingredient to work upon before season 2019/2020 comes.  In the meantime I apologise if I have failed to raise any goosebumps during this account - sometimes I know when I am beat but..better to be out there supporting than not - think on!

STONED TO...

20th April 2019 - Maine Road 4 v 0 Stone Dominoes - There are just too many good teams to visit in the North West Counties League and I can't keep up and be everywhere.   To add to my frustration, each and every season I like to throw in a few new grounds and catch up with some teams out of these local competitions.  With work, family, wildlife passion and eternal noise duties I am akin to the regularly masturbated todger of Stretch Armstrong - pulled all ways.  My apologies go to all those neglected, I am striving for balance and will try and do my bit but man, until someone proves that cloning really does work I shall continue to run around like an egg-bound chicken without a noggin.  Today I opted for Maine Road as the morn was spent cycling and chasing bugs, the dinner hour spent reading Somerset Maugham and soaking up a few rays and the evening planned out by the young un' who wants to watch another Marvel Film - Black Panther this time.  We watched Venom last night, it was OK but I am a long term Marvel fan, I was immersed in the joys of Spiderman and the Sinister Six, The Fantastic Four and such like when I was a nipper before progressing on to reading novels and then getting side-tracked via wrestling the one eyed champ, blowing my aural passages out with punk rock and indulging in some head-melting solvent abuse (Evo-Stik and Zoff only - I did have standards).  Today's match looked like it could be a one sided affair - a bit like Hulk on steroids meeting Ant-Man with a cold.  I hoped not, I like balance - give me equilibrium as found in the giant testicles of Galactus or a wrestling match between Captain America and Iron Man - here's hoping. Prior to the match I nattered with STP Stu and was cajoled into buying two bags of cake by the manipulator serving tea - I shall not complain.  

The first action was a free-kick to the travellers, it was delivered well but put behind for a corner.  The angled hoof came and No 4 (Michael Davies) rose and put a wealth of crust on the ball, it was on target but the keeper was up with the lark and gathered without too much fuss.  Eventually The Road started to play the field and roll the ball around the deck.  A rapier move down the flank saw a cross hit first time by the overly enthused No 7 (Kyle Hendley) who failed to hit the target.  The hosts continued to pass and play with high impetus, one stunning move left the Stone defence standing but the end shot was saved and offered temporary reprieve.  Maine Road maintained the pressure, a pass was threaded and No 6 (Neil Chappell) jumped at the chance to grab the opening goal and firmly slotted a low hard shot into the net - 1 - 0 - was this the start of things to come?  Alas no, from here chances came and went with Chappell having a long range boomer off-line and then Hendley having two pops, one blocked, the other whacked into the shimmering sky with impetuous haste.  A water break came.

The game restarted, No 3 (Adam Harper) for the Dominoes bust a gut and worked himself room to shoot - the execution was shabby.  The Blues now began to dominate matters and forced their opponents to take on the role of hungry shithawks and feed on scraps.  Blue-tinted corners were plentiful, the quality kiss of any true assassin lacking.  No 8 (Jamie Roe) kept his sides energy high, he dinked around, fed a ball that was touched on to the ever-willing Chappell who once more belted over the crossbar.  The push for the second strike continued, No 11 (Joseph O' Brien) worked in, let loose a delicious curler from range that needed a tip over.  The corner came, the keeper rose and fumbled, No 4 (David Brown) collected for the predatory pack, kept his cool and slotted home to double the lead.  Before the break the boys in blue advanced, a cracking cross was deflected behind with the visiting No 5 (Emmanuel Uwimana) lucky not to have turned it into his own net.  Soon after Chappell laid one on a plate in the box for Roe to bury.  The alert player side-footed, the ball was somehow blocked - time for a brew methinks.

A cuppa and a bit of cake went down well, the warm weather was mighty grand - tis no bad way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

The second period began with the home lads in command.  O' Brien received the ball after a neat flick from No 9 (Daniel Burgess) with the resultant cross put in early and causing the keeper to fumble.  A corner was the outcome, no success was borne but the stranglehold remained.  Two shots quickly ensued, Burgess had his blocked, Hendley swung and put the globe wide - the key here was surely time and patience.  The Dominoes offered little in return, a wasted corner and nothing more.  Maine Road gained possession and control yet again, they were given the luxury of having time to pass and probe around the box before the ball went out wide, Hendley stroked one in and No 15 (Thomas Keyworth) nutted home at the far post with relative ease - it was just far too easy.  Stone eventually had some joy and had a terse period of good interplay that ignited ambition - it was a shame to see an offside rule dampen the squib.  

The MR machine once more soon got on top, No 3 (Ashley Morley) sprinted, linked up with O'Brien who found himself with options.  From my personal viewpoint the chance to shoot was obvious, a cross came instead, the final touch lacked conviction and we remained as we were.  As the current tally of home goals ached to be built upon another break for a slurp was had.  When all players were refreshed the Blue flow continued where it had left off but too many finishing adornments and not enough direct work banished any chance of bringing up the fourth.  The visitors had a rare break with No 10 (Luke Smith) sent through.  The choices were many, the shot was the worst possible decision as men were free - the fact that the ball wasn't even on target added poison to the pissed on promise.  The result of this scare was a bog basic move with a long ball letting Keyworth nip it at the apex, round the keeper, negotiate a defender on the line and slap in the icing on the cake.  The last action came via Stone's No 6 (Kinglsey Cudjoe) who still buzzed about, wormed inward and released a good dig that just wouldn't stay on target.  Soon after we were done, it had been a somewhat regular contest with the result in no serious doubt from the off.  Maine Road's No 8 (Jamie Roe) gets the Man of the Match vote for impeccable ground coverage, a consistency of accurate passes second to none and showing a desire from first to last that has surely been a big component in his team's turnaround.  Well played chap.

FINAL THOUGHT - So we came expecting goals, we got 4 and for me, I reckon both teams wouldn't be happy with that.   Stone Dominoes are in disarray and are just seeing a long hard season out and looking for small rays of hope to build around for next year.  Today I thought the basics were lacking - players not running into space and giving options when in possession, not working back when losing the ball and not staying composed when looking to build.  In the midst of this though there was some good effort and several players looked to have some good desire and general awareness.  It has been a tough campaign for the crew and in all fairness they just need to get outta there and consider.  For the last game it would be good to see them play with a full width and just go gung ho and see what happens - why not indeed.  Maine Road bagged a few goals today but I am sure they had designs on more.  They really do need to sharpen the apex of matters and make sure the basics are nailed before souping matters up.   At the back they are reliable, in midfield they have some good thinkers and up front they have options - to make the most of the opportunities created though composure is the key as well as consistent awareness.  Next year they should more than hold their own if they work on the killer instinct - it is always a pleasure to visit Brantingham Road though and once again, this year they have granted me much entertainment - cheers to all involved and the best of luck. 

FINAL POYNT MADE

16th April 2019 - Denton Town 2 v 3 Poynton FC - The young un' is home from Uni, she likes to do a bit of Non-League Footy, she was duly given options and came up with this local contest.  I was not complaining, Denton Town is a place I have a genuine soft spot for - it is raw, natural and very real with a couple of guys running themselves ragged to keep the ship afloat.  Sadly the team have been relegated this year, they will now plunge into the Cheshire League Division 1, as a result, I will make a greater effort next year to watch them and try and get them a little extra note via my humble reports.  The day was non-stop, work is hectic at the moment and I am behind on many personal fronts.  The book I am writing is just being kept up with but CD reviews, wildlife recording and gig promotions are piling high and the string vest I am knitting for the local fat man is taking an age.  Talking of fat men, my waistline is getting a trifle hefty and my sugar levels are up - I am now trying to be good so there will be no cake for me.   Hopefully Denton Town could provide some sweet success tonight although when I turn up to any game I always wish both teams all the best and just enjoy the match.  It is just my way, I like football at this level because it holds some genuinely passionate folks - passion is not about blowing a fuse, or being confined to one area - it is about doing and anyone who does for the love of it gets my vote.  Upon arrival we met STP Stu who had recently been fitted for a new wig after his other syrup blew away at a naked Rugby Match.  Abbey Hey Pete turned up later and was the the worse for wear after another glue - sniffing bender - I have told him not to mix his chemical intake but the man seems to know best - he'll come to a sticky end if he carries on. So after tea was slurped, the teams took to the pitch - here we go again comrades, I promise to try and stay on the straight and narrow, then again... 

The first purposeful attack came via the home lads, No 7 (Chris Lingouba) displayed huge desire and ran down the flank like an armoured tank.  The cross was sugar sweet, the keeper came and missed the ball and there, to put head on ball, mere inches out from the open goal was No 6 (Aiden Hopkins), who connected and somehow missed the target and scraped the outside of bar - now that was a shocker!  Poynton eventually grew into the game, wasted a short corner but soon after sizzled forth with a quick move that culminated in a long range looper from their No 10 (Andy Oakes).  The shot went up, arced downwards and 'boom' the bar was hammered.  No 11 (Jake Wright) collected the loose ball and thumped back first time, disappointingly into the arms of the awaiting keeper.  End to end action ensued, a few tame and wayward shots failed to douse the excitement levels already set - this was a good un' folks, stay with me.  

From hectic bluster a Denton defensive error was had, No 9 (Andy Hurst) for the Poynton pack was allowed to shoot, the home No 1 (Martyn White) sprawled and save the hosts' bacon.  Straight down the opposite end we went, some quick wing work was followed by a swift cross and a nutted attempt on goal by the arriving No 9 (Dan Read) - the effort was way off the mark.  Denton now had a period of pressure, 2 corners fizzled out and then a back to front move saw one hoof, one pass and a blasting shot by No 10 (Fransisco Costa) just fly over the bar - now that was close and in truth we should have had 4 goals already.  The same player soon came on strong again, the skills displayed were slinkier that Danny la Rues shaven testicles (so I hear), the nutmeg cuter than the tattooed nipples of Dolly Parton (I have photos) and the cross as sure keen as Richard Madeley in a wine shop (the pilfering git).  Hopkins was the recipient, the close in touch was firmly blocked by a defending carcass.  Madness followed, play was called back and an in-box free-kick given (what for is anybody's guess).  The ball was played, No 11 (Mike Bennett) nipped in and touched wide - another glorious chance gone begging - crikey. Soon after the home lads were marauding again, Lingouba nipping in like a thief in the night, making a perfect connection with the globe and clattering the bar once more.  The ball boomed out, Hopkins was keen, duly whacked home and bulged the net - and about time too.  Unfortunately non-one told the liner the game was desperate for a goal - offside it was.

We carried on aroused but still void of any climactic moments.  Back and forth we went, akin to the hefty conkers of Sammy Davis Jr (I'll see you in court).  Denton started to turn the screw, were having the best of possession when suddenly Poynton broke like a fart from a prolapsed rectum.  No 9 (Andy Hurst)  dashed hard, put the ball in, a touch came and No 7 (Rob Stokoe) was there to bumble the ball over the line and break the stubborn deadlock.  This was a kidney punch for the resident lads, they reacted, a cross was put in, heads grazed until Bennett nutted forward at the far post - the save that came was untidy but effective.  Lingouba burst a bollock again, he played out to Costa who cut in, sent forth a fizzer that was just shy of the upright.   Again the Dentonians came, the ball was played around the box looking for an opportunity, Lingouba had had enough of the indecision and received, twatted from 20 yards and quite spectacularly bulged the meshing.   That was some equaliser.  With only seconds of the half left we prepared for a brew, Poynton rushed with urgency, an easy ball came, the rear pack allowed No 8 (Jason Leach) to wander in and fire home, now that was too easy and a suckerpunch to consider.  It punctuated what had been  a ruddy cracking half of non-stop football and when the referee blew we went in search of the leafy brew and appreciated what we had seen.

The break was only 5 minutes long, the game needed to crack on before darkness dampened desires.  Poor Pete didn't even have time to refuel his huffing bag - hey ho.

We retook our positions and watched Denton fly from the traps.  Lingouba danced inward and won a free-kick that was highly creative but lacked true execution.  Poynton repaid matters with a few pops that were off-line and then a long ball caught the home No 3 (Jean Biansumba) on the hop, he tried to recover and made a messy tackle - the question was - was he the last man or not!  He got delivered a yellow card for his careless faux pas - I think he looked mighty relieved.  The free-kick that followed was hammered into the wall - perhaps justice was served.  The game was still wide open, the outcome was anyone's guess.  Out of the melee Denton travelled down the flank, Costa knocked in a delicious cross, No 12 (Antonio Din Chin) popped up and without further ado, buried with certainty.  2 goals apiece, by gum lad, what a treat.  Once again, the first break after the Denton goal came via the guests, it was a sweeping move the hosts were lucky to survive, I think they were overjoyed to see the final effort fly over the horizontal.  In return of this scare the home chaps charged and Din Chin sent in a dangerous looking cross that struck the inside of the post and was somehow cleared.  That framework was going to need some serious painting after this one - get the Dulux out!

A Poynton break next, the shot was wonderfully tipped over.  A tight period followed, a Poynton free-kick - Leach the taker - wallop, yes - the bar had been cracked yet again.  The action was unrelenting, chances came and went as the night crept in and light began to fade.  The Town started to get a bit loose at the back, the away lads piled in, 2 shots came in quick succession, one blocked the other saved and then a breakaway.  Costa played in to Din Chin, the first time shot crept beneath the keeper and tickled the upright before being gathered up - oh my goodness.  

We now hit the back stretch, the guests were starting to shade matters although a liquid move by the hosts should have brought up the lead as No 11 (Jake Wright) played to Din Chin who knocked in a pearler to Costa who was left with the keeper to beat.  The shot oozed confidence but missed the strike zone - it was a let off for the travellers that was for sure.  The away team bounced right back, Hurst was threaded through and also missed after having only the keeper to beat - this was not good for the nervous system.  More chances came, some real poor misses were the result.  Again Poynton pressed, No 4 (Nick Ward) rasped in a low driller that the home keeper did well to save in the now darkened conditions.  A corner came, chaos in the box reigned, a close in shot was saved at the last with a free-kick awarded, just outside the box.  No 3 (Sam Morris) placed the ball, eyed his spot and swung the shank.  The ball flew low, passed the wall, the keeper was unsighted and the bottom corner was found - it turned out to be the last kick of the match, Denton had been mugged, Poynton had done a late night smash and grab and looked elated.   This had been a stunner right up until the last, there was some good work all round and all done in a good spirit - I like that.  Man of the Match for me goes to Denton Town's No 7 (Chris Lingouba), a ruddy good player this who popped up here and there, was involved in many good moves, stayed alert at all times and was unlucky not to bag a few extra goals for his team.  It didn't seem fair that he was on the losing side - ah shit happens.

FINAL THOUGHT - Well what an absolutely grand night of football and sincere thanks to all who made this possible.  Both teams played with positivity and at times natural abandon and contributed to a game of incessant action.  Poynton dug in deep, rode a few storms, counter-attacked with precision and never gave up until the last.  It was this undying effort that duly won them the 3 points from a game that could have gone either way.  If they keep this commitment they can only go on to better things - good on em' and hopefully I can get back down their way again next campaign.  Denton Town are relegated but I reckon they can bounce back with a bang.   There is a lot of quality in the team and some real eye-catching endeavour - all they need to work on is the fitness of one or two players and the clinical edge in front of goal.  Time on the training field is needed and with the approach they have I reckon a straight promotion is on the cards.   They play the game without gripe and seem to have a good comradeship - I think that will put them in good stead for the next campaign.  Tonight there were only 20 bods watching what transpired, next year I am gonna try and get a few more peeps interested in this overlooked ground - it all helps and I will be on the touchline a few more times for sure.  Thank you to all for this splendid affair - Non-League hey - you can't fuckin' beat it!

BEAR TRAP SET

13th April 2019 - Burscough FC 0 v 1 Congleton Town - After a morn of birding we partook of lunch in some farmers fields and had a walk around Burscough before entering one of our favourite grounds for some more Non-League Action. The highlight of the day so far had been some close up views of a pair of Little Grebes, the first House Martins of the year and a couple of new blooms for the annual list.  Me and my good lady do like to wander here and there and like a good wildlife/football combination with some sweet snacks thrown in.  The ground we entered, as we know it, is ready to change, and in its current state it will be the last time we pay our respects.  A chat with the guy on the gate informed us of the forthcoming plans, it is a pity the old asbestos can't be used to fill the local council offices instead of all the dead wood found there.  Apparently the old ground will be used for new housing, what's new - more concrete spillage and all to the detriment of the wild world - it gets on my tits don't ya know.  My hate for councillors and MP's arises from back in the 1970's when I entered the TV Show 'Blind Date' and ended up going on a cruise with a  Michael Foot look-alike.  The said leader of the reds was one of the few politicians I have ever had any time for but when the doppelganger insisted on dining at the Captains Table in a sequinned dress, wearing fuschia pink lipstick and persistently calling me 'Honey Balls' I think my deep rooted problems really began.  Anyway the upshot of the watery trip was Mr Pseudo-Foot ended up giving birth to a bouncing baby boy which I am sure was the head chef's - the cross-eyes and greasy hands were a dead give away.  And so...after yet another mental blip, back to the match.  I was going for a draw, my missus a Congo win, after supping some tea, completing the Express cryptic crossword and parking our arses I think the game ended up going something like this.

The start was unsettled with both teams trying to adjust to the rather firm and unforgiving playing surface.  No 6 (Anthony Griffith) of Congleton had the first blast at glory but his long range effort could only shave the arse feathers off a passing pigeon rather than busting a hole on the targeted netting.  The hosts tried mighty hard to keep matters on the deck with the final ball always going astray or being met by an awaiting defensive boot.  The team won 2 corners on the trot, the first was wasted, the second long, knocked back and brushed on by a rising noggin.  Awaiting was No 11 (Jorde Lorde) who screwed his effort just shy of the upright - now that would have been a solid move.  The hosts came once more, No 9 (Chad White) had a pop with the ball spooned off the line and over the bar by the quick reacting Griffith.  The corner came, it was well struck and White put bonse on ball and wasn't that far off the zone.  

Straight down the other end matters went, with the ball worked down the flank, given to No 10 (Paul Speed) who worked some space and had a shot deflected over.  The angled kicked was dealt with, Burscough broke and played some lovely football in and around the box with the end result only a corner that produced sour FA.  Once again the visiting Bears reacted, another kick from the corner led to a series of shots and blocks with hair-raising mayhem becoming a little to much for the opposing managers.  A foul ended the pressure and then Burscough broke with No 7 (Terry Cummings) put through and with only the keeper to beat.  When the ball left the end of the lower limb and rippled the side-netting one could almost feel the ill-tempered fart leave the resident coach's rear end as his disgust became to much to contain.  A free-kick came the same way soon after, it went in, it went out for a corner that was delivered and met by the rising White who couldn't get enough cranial purchase on the ball to get it on target.  From here the guests woke up, No 7 (William Hasler-Cregg) wriggled, fed No 9 (Daniel Cope) whose shot was weak and led to him injuring himself.   Subs came both ways, The Congo pushed, No 5 (Thomas Morris) was sending forth a few positive balls, one of which was latched onto, played in by No 12 (Steve Foster) and buried by No 8 (Dean Warburton).  The goal was slightly against the flow but this moment saw the visiting pack push on, play some football with more desire and have the next crack via Hasler-Cregg who couldn't keep the globe below the bar.  Before the half-time break No 3 (William Doherty) played a stunning pass that truly tested the Congo rear ranks who stood their ground, relieved the situation and finished the first 45 minute period on top and with greatest gusto.

The sun shone for half-time, we stayed put like two basking beetles and soaked up the rays with keen attention.  My wife tackled another crossword, I checked a few scores on her phone and then the teams came out.  The start was delayed due to one of the nets falling apart at the seams - it was duly fixed, game on.

Cummings for the home team went on an immediate mission, charging forth and earning a free-kick which No 4 (Danny Brady) blasted way over.  At each end half chances came and were disappointingly wasted, it was a very patchy period to say the least from which No 16 (Martin Iddon) had a chance to hammer but allowed the ball to bounce and could only make the weakest of touches that failed to trouble the target zone.  The next animation came, a fracas ensued after a clumsy tackle, all players pushed, shoved and swung sequined purses - the outcome was two players sent off, one for each side and someone's string of pearls getting broken - ooh the silly buggers.  Point must be made that both benches took it on the chin and refused to get involved in a pointless disagreeable slanging match.  The game continued, Burscough pressed but lacked killer quality, Congo broke with No 11 (Emini Adegbenro) passing to Foster who knocked it to Hasler-Cregg.  The ball wouldn't sit down, the shot came, it went wide - in truth it should have been the second and crucial strike.

Despite more space being available on the pitch due to the 2 man deficit both packs failed to make any clear cut opportunities.  Subs came, composure was lacking in many areas and then Hasler-Cregg displayed great desire to burst through, find the smallest of openings and release - again off target.  The Linnets flew forward in response, the effective and quick thinking No 8 (Dimitri Nkusa-Wasaulua) played to Cummings who threaded a pass that saw White face the guest No 1 (Robert Cooke).  Both players arrived at destination sphere at the same time, the object sought pinged free of danger.  Into the closing minutes we travelled with too many rushed balls and too much panic making for a fractured game.  Burscough had 2 free-kicks that were hoofed straight out of play and then Brady connected with a real rasper that rattled the upright and ricocheted away from pastures designated as perilous.  In return Congleton's Foster sent in a rather weak shot that caused no concern but it didn't matter, eventually after oodles of added on time the game was done and Congleton were travelling homeward with three hard earned points in the bank.  The Man of the Match goes to The Bear's No 7 (William Hasler-Cregg) for his undying effort, great determination and general nippiness that posed problems all day long.  He should have bagged himself a goal to be fair but hey, it was a darn good 90 minute bout nonetheless and deserved of the nod.  

FINAL THOUGHT - So the last match of the season at Victoria Park and not really a classic. Both teams looked tired today with one or two players the exception.   It was a well balanced game throughout and could have gone either way but for me the end result was fair enough.  Congleton have had a good campaign and just ran out of a little steam through the back end but man, they try and play decent football, have many quality plays and when in the zone, are a match for anyone.  There home ground is another fine place to visit and we shall be there again soon enough, with the rank and file who always make for a pleasurable experience.  Burscough are better than what they may realise and each and every time I see them I take note what a good set of players they have, the decent way they play the game and the appreciation they show for the supporters.  They seem to be keeping some consistency in the squad and I reckon their only major downfall is the lack of composure at crucial times and the pitch which is certainly doing them no favours of late.  I hear they may be on 3G soon, they are not my favoured surface but I reckon this lot could reap many benefits from the said surface - you just never know but one thing is guaranteed, we will be checking them out for sure, hopefully on several occasions next time around.