8th October 2019 - Irlam FC 1 v 1 Avro (Irlam won 7 - 6 on penalties) - In the midst of the silly season we are, with work, fungi walks and general chasing one's tail the order of the day. In fact last week I was chasing my tail so hard I pulled a muscle in my neck and was accused of indecency - it is all part and parcel of a doofing life. I had booked the day off work to forge on and reduce the eternal pile, I chipped away and made some progress although I was a weary early morn after last night's gig had jaded me a little. The 5 acts did their bit, I swilled some ale and went home happy but not resting on my disjointed laurels - one has to try. So after a non-stop day my good lady returned home, we had a bite to eat and headed out. We like visiting the ground at Silver Street, the people who run the club are always welcoming and you always get value for money both on and off the pitch. After chatting with a few faces we had a brew and picked our spots, the nights are now getting a trifle chilly, we were hoping the football fever would rage and keep us warmed and intrigued.
The early throes of this Manchester Premier League 1st round had decent pep with both teams seeking to get a foot on the ball. Irlam were having the greater possession and as a result had the first pop via a choice long ball that fell to the feet of No 11 (Jordan Southworth) who wasted no time in shooting from range. The ball was propelled with decent pace, the visiting mittman flew and got a firm hand on the ball that led to a corner. The ball from the angle found the nut of No 9 (Liam Pollitt), the contact was resolute and only had to be on target to break the deadlock, alas the end result was a boom over the bar. Avro were working hard to feed on any scraps, Irlam though were being of a niggardly nature and were giving little away.
Eventually the guests ground out a half chance when No 6 (Kyle Jacobs) forced himself through a crowd, laid one on a plate for No 7 (Leon Wright) to have a lash at - it was a shame the shot lacked 'oomph' and in truth, sanguinity. Irlam still played on the deck when a surprise ball over the top beat the offside trap . A shot followed, the save was laden with quality, another angled boot was given. The ball was delivered, Avro survived in a certain untidy style, a re-feed saw Southworth attempt to nip in, the gloved one was alert once more and saved his sides rather tanned asses.
The travelling tribe now began to grow in stature and see a little more of the rotating globe. They pressed with renewed belief but were suddenly caught on the back foot and Irlam's No 7 (Marcus Perry) quickly made himself some space and had only the keeper to beat. The shot was placed, the No 1 (Joseph Boyling) earned his crust once more with another reliable save. Moments later and a home free-kick saw No 3 (Sam Bolton) released at a slight angle. The effort on goal was low and on target, once more the man between the sticks remained solid and kept the scoresheet barren. Irlam advanced once more, Perry to Pollitt with the goalie reading the danger and sprawling at the striker's feet to snuff out the peril. The half flashed by, before the break Avro somehow won a controversial corner and when it was kicked into the box, the hairless head of No 4 (Lee O' Brien) made sound contact and nearly buried - now that would have been a real turn up for the fluttering books.
Half-time, we wandered so I could dangle a part of my plumbing system at the porcelain urinal and expel some liquid gold. On the way I spied some verdigris fungi in the grass, Stropharia caerulea - bonus.
Back to our viewpoint, Pollitt for the hosts had a dig way off target, Avro exposed further resilience and my tip for a 1 -1 draw looked rather extravagant the way things were playing out. Some argy bargy came, you know the script - foul language, a bit of pushing and some chests expanded - the outcome, a waste of time and a yellow card. When play continued it staggered like a drunken wanker with severe testicle pain and one leg longer than the other - it wasn't a pretty sight. Irlam emerged from the mess with Southworth cutting in, feeding Pollitt who shot and saw the mitter save yet again. Bolton jumped on the loose ball, cracked one first time and watched it flash wide of the far stick. Perry had the next shot from some Avro pressure. At the apex of the counterattack one expected the net to bulge, in fact the only bulge that was seen was beneath the shirt of a nearby fatman who looked to have had more than his fair share of lard butties.
Both teams continued to perspire hard, chances however became a genuinely scarce commodity. We entered the last 10 of this slipshod and rather patchwork second half. No 17 (Mwiya Malumo) had a dash for the Silver Street residents, the net protector was in the way and the follow up shot was saved - by heck, surely this was not the first naked draw of the year. A corner ensued, No 6 (Karl Cassell) nipped in and rose, the forehead met the globe, kaboom, the breakthrough goal was had, was this the killer blow or, as I suggested to my good lady, after all the struggle and strife where Avro going to immediately strike back. Salt was rubbed into the open wound of the guests when their No 5 (Michael Shenton) was sent packing after a clumsy tackle that was merely mistimed and not spiteful - I think the red card was a trifle harsh. Now down to ten men, a goal behind and with the clock very much against them the guests had to produce something rather special. As Irlam pressed and looked to kill the game in added time a wicked break was had with a long ball finding No 9 (Adam Latham) who took a touch, darted and duly buried - 1 - 1 - and soon after that was the way it stayed.
We now entered the shoot-out, the first two spot kicks were buried and then the home No 1 (Lee White) saved low in the corner and gave his team the early advantage. The next 6 extra hoofs found the back of the net, it was 4 - 4, the green-glad White now stepped up to win this one and get the job done before the finger-nibbling tension of sudden death. The shot was had, the opposing gloved guardian dove and saved - was this the ultimate turning point, the final twist in a game that in the main, had been touch and go. 4 more penalties were buried with controlled quality and then Avro's No 11 (Daniel Parkinson) was denied by a classy save that left huge responsibility on the shoulders of No 16 (Jordan Icely). The blue clad sub stepped up, slotted home without a bead of sweat on the brow - the Mitchells had done it, round two awaited, for Avro it was a sore way to end a long night but as compensation I think their No 1 (Joseph Boyling) very much deserved my vote for Man of the Match with evidence of a keeper very capable, with an ability to read the game and of course able to make quality save after quality save and keep his team competitive.
FINAL THOUGHT - I expected a close-one tonight, as it turned out my 1 -1 prediction was bang on but Irlam definitely deserved to sneak through come the end of the night. They play a sound passing game, for the greater part of this one kept up a relentless pressure game that gave their opponents no time to truly settle. The hosts are rolling mightily well at the mo, when such a flow is had it seems luck will also shine favourably but let us be honest, in many instances a good team will make their own luck. Avro displayed a quality tonight that will put them in good stead for their league campaign, that quality being 'resilience'. Despite struggling to get a foothold in this one they refused to bend down and be buggered and stayed upright and resisting throughout and even when they suffered a double-whammy they dug deep and nearly pulled the rabbit out of the hat, or if you prefer the buttplug of ill-fortune out of the rectum of hope. The premiership this year offers up 3 places for promotion, will any of these two be in the mix, I think so and reckon it will go right to the final weeks, I think we all need to stock up on nerve tablets before Brexit comes and before things get to hot to handle.
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