ARSE END AFFAIRS

11th May 2019 - Poynton FC 2 v 0 FC St Helens - Today I woke up starving and was passing water through my arse quicker than a souped up water-pistol.  I was due to have a colonoscopy and so had been having the whole clear out procedure and was now sporting an anus as red as a piss-pots nose and as equally roughened.  A call early morn indicated I could move my appointment to an earlier time which, with a bit of luck, would mean I could squeeze in some Non-League Football - the offer was taken.   So, at 1.30pm I was lay on my side, refusing sedation and gas and air and enjoying the delights of having a camera explore my 28 feet of intestine.  I duly farted, chatted with the nurses and came out with a sign of 'all clear'.  I rushed the nurses through the paper work, was guided back to the waiting area where my missus was duly informed that we were in time for some footy - I think her wry smile said it all.  We arrived just in time to grab teamsheet photo's and then enjoyed a good chat with fellow Non-League pootler Gareth Evans and his good lady, Sandra.  Andy Gray, the Manager of Cheadle Heath Nomads joined us for a natter and the teams came out to indulge in a sun-blessed game that, in truth, was of no great concern.  So with recently stretched anus, a fear of letting the sphincter muscle relax and with fine weather and company I scribbled a report assessing a match that went as thus.

The first animation came via some Poynton probing, No 10 (Jason Leach) provided a meaty dig that the keeper did well to clear at the second attempt.  A throw followed, Leach was on it like a perverted doctor on a testicular boil, the shot that came was skewed embarrassingly wide.  The home team continued to make the most play with the guests seemingly happy to bide their time and try and explosively counter.  An angled hoof came for the home pack, the fiery barnet of No 5 (Luke Jones) was neatly found, the header was close in and firm but the keeper was in the right place and securely held the ball.  Eventually St Helens found time and space to wriggle forth and win a free-kick.  The ball in was deliciously drilled, No 8 (Liam Houghton) dashed into room, produced a flick header that almost dropped beneath the horizontal - oooh! 

From here the game became a ramshackle affair, with quality a very rare commodity on a pitch drier than the humour of Clement Freud and more uneven than the complexion of Hilda Baker.  Both teams hurried and harried but no real direct progress was made.  A gratis-dig was offered to St Helens after an opportunist hoofing.  No 10 (Kieran Curtis) put the ball forth, a bounce was wicked, the keeper did well to catch and hold.  To hinder the flow of the game several collisions and verbal exchanges came with talking to's given and the nonsense quelled.  The last 10 minutes were soon upon us, more pointless disagreements came and then Leach struck a free-kick that rattled the underside of the bar and somehow pinged outwards rather than inwards.  Oh my goodness, now that was bordering on excitement.  The half trickled on and flickered out - it had, in truth, been a shocker.  The whistle was a blessed relief.

We stayed put at half-time, enjoyed the pleasant weather and had a natter.  

Poynton came out quickest for the second period, a great cross seemingly came from nowhere, No 7 (Carl McCurrie) nipped in and provided a low header from close range that crawled off target.  The blushes were spared via the liner's waving flag - lucky swine.  A few cruddy tackles followed, the hosts rose from the mess with a stunningly effective sweeping and simple move. One ball down the flank, a cross, Leach at the near post, one goal to nil and thank you very much.  St Helens worked hard to create a worthy response, a free-kick was truly awful, another one in return was equally shabby.  The hosts strode on once again, a long ball was headed on by No 8 (Jamie Manson) with McCurrie nipping in and poking toward goal - the save was steady enough.  A corner followed, many heads rose, none made any contact and Jones for Poynton popped up and bumbled home.  The lead had been doubled, the onus was on the visitors to make a game of this.

The visiting pack marauded, a dropping header was tipped behind for a corner kick which duly came in and was boomed off the bonse of No 8 (Liam Houghton) who looked a trifle miffed that he couldn't hit the strike zone.  Another angled boot came the same way, the keeper fumbled and bumbled but recovered his ass and eventually helped the ball clear.  The hosts pounced and started to build a good attack that was ultimately ruined by some crude tackles.  Several corners and crosses came at the St Helens danger area, all led to bugger all, it was a very disjointed game.   The fractured finish saw No 12 (Nick Challinor) of Poynton make good room in the corner, put in a cross that McCurrie headed against the back of a defender instead of into the net.  The last blasts saw the home goalie get in a pickle but just scrape together a recovery and then the resident No 14 (Greg Mathers) spurt through and shoot...off target.  A St Helens sub stuck out a foot in the midst of a tackle and pushed the ball just shy of the far stick and a final header over the bar for the hosts finalised what had been, a quite ugly game with the true winner being the pitch.  From the disjointed disarray Poynton's No 5 (Luke Jones) was deserved of the Man of the Match choice due to the fact he stayed disciplined, coped with the unforgiving surface, stood his ground well and grabbed a goal as a bonus.  Farewells were made following the final whistle and my mind was now on food - if I had a shit sandwich it may be quite fitting for the day's events.

FINAL THOUGHT - One can't polish a turd even if one had one, alas today I was void of such a bodily item.  This match was far from a classic, it was what one may consider a stinker, my shit-shining efforts would be wasted so I'll say it how it is (as ever).   Both teams worked hard, defied the substrate and tried to get on with matters apart from the nonsensical moaning and groaning.  Both units have some fine players, have options and play with a good determination but for me, trying to play football on a baked deck that is far from level is just an impossible task.  We are at the fag-end of the season, minds are elsewhere and legs are tired, the game today wasn't a true reflection of what the teams are capable of, of that I am sure.  I nip in and nip out of this Cheshire League and see plenty of good endeavour from many teams, the ones who have moved up into the North West Counties League have held their own which says a lot for the standard - I hope to catch both these units several times next year - until then I will reserve judgement - by heck, that polaroid up the posterior must have made me all considerate.