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!
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