And so to today's game, after a morn of shrooming at the Oswestry Old Race Course Nature Reserve we arrived chilled and in need of some food, warm tea and goals. This was a new ground for us and a chance to support a team who are struggling to say the least and another team who had travelled a mighty distance to play this Macron Cup 1st round tie - yes, right up my street, I am a lover of the underdog and the trier, I was happy to be a neutral but wished both teams the very best, this could go any way and if you have your very own time-travelling device, you could watch it all again if the excitement was too much to take in all in one go. So, after tea and chips and a natter with some lovely peeps we went out, parked our arses and watched this 1st Round of the Macron Cup unfold.
The initial stages saw both teams adopt an open method of play which was surely indicative of a game destined to produce goals. The first shot soon came with the home No 10 (Seth Ellis) launching a firm dig which got deflected and went for a corner. The angled punt came to the back post, No 2 (George Taylor) rose with relative ease and nutted down in front of goal. The fastest to react to the waiting sphere was No 5 (Owen Lloyd) who slotted home to finish a wonderfully simplistic move. From the kick-off the trailing pack launched a hoof at gola that, in truth, wasn't too far off the upright. The Moor kept on striving and feeding on any loose scraps like ravenous Greenbottles on a freshly turned turd. No 11 (Thomas Ward) provided a brace of delicious crosses that found no takers and after a pea-rolling free-kick that the keeper easily gathered the Ells responded with their own No 11 (Jack Briscoe) knocking forth several teasing crosses.
This was a fine game, the next goal could go either way but when the hosts charged with frisky focus and No 7 (Brendon Price) was tumbled on the edge of the box it seemed a genuine chance was to be had. Up stepped No 8 (Stuart Dickin), a mid-paced peach was struck, the top corner was found, what a cracking way to double the lead - the home support seemed elated.
The Rangers continued to play some good football based around much intelligent movement and a willingness to graft. Soon after their No 9 (Karl Bailey) forced his way through like a 20 stone shopper at a pie-shop sale. Impetus was had, he found space to shoot and buried, I am still at a loss why the liner was waving his flag and nullifying the celebrations - the rotten sod.
With great haste we sped on into the main bowels of the match, Ellesmere won a throw that was touched on. No 4 (David Howells) hurtled in like a souped up Express Train. The strike that followed was direct and full of bollock-busting gumption, the keepers thigh was up to the task and duly blocked in solid style. Straight down the opposite end we went, No 10 (David Little), Ward and No 9 (Callum Birdsall) linked up via a rapier rampage, the latter player had the apical effort, the keeper saved well. The hosts broke, Bailey rasped one, another corner was had. The ball went in and out, Bailey shot, the keeper sprawled low and saved. The ball went AWOL, Price collected and hammered one to the netting, the keeper produced the double block and kept his side very much still in it.
We reached the latter stages of a sterling opening period. Ellesmere came again, a lightning cross from the flank missed the first rising head but Bailey was waiting and nutted to the bottom corner, the visiting No 1 (Craig Rule) was there again to stave off any further injury to the scoresheet, great work squire. From here Cleator Moor sprang, a pass and Ward delivered another choice ball into the box that was met by the robust Birdsall who, under extreme pressure, still managed to bundle the ball home. It was a perfect moment to drag a goal back, 60 seconds later and the half was done.
Half-time, a piddle, a brew and a choccy bar. There was a sharp chill now pervading the air, we headed back out like hardy souls and hoping for a repeat performance of the first half goodness.
The second period began with Price for the hosts skewing a shot off target and then The Moor Men got stuck in, a long ball was played that saw Birdsall battle like a dog for a sugar dipped sausage and 2 - 2 it was. The hosts now needed to rearrange the ranks and stop sitting too deep - they did just that and earned a corner for their efforts. A good booting came, a near post flick header from Ellis went just over the bar. Briscoe had a long range pop next, it also went over. Up to the other danger zone next, another cross from the angle and a flick header - how it missed is anyone's guess - man I was struggling to keep up with the action.
A gloopy midfield battle followed, we waited for a team to break the tackle-laden treacle and have the next crack at goal. As things transpired it was Bailey for The Rangers who grabbed the constipated cow by the stubborn udders and battled, won the ball and passed to Ellis who knocked a first time touch just the wrong side of the vertical. This game was still a liberated affair, The Moor came next, Little collected, hurtled toward goal like Linford Christie pursued by a tooled up Nob-Reducing Doctor. The shot came, it was bursting with zeal, in fact it had so much 'oomph' only the darkening night sky was found - a chance gone for sure!
From the restart the Ell's wasted no time, a lengthy ball found Price with only the keeper to beat. The brow remained free of perspired indecision, the eye picked a spot, the foot made a touch that saw the ball go up, leave the mitter standing and drop into the awaiting net - what a sweetly taken termination to a quite uncomplicated move - as per, simple is always sweetest.
Now the final stages were entered, Ellesmere chose to sit deep and play with fire, Cleator Moor tried to worm an opening and get this one back to all square. The time ran on, the trailing pack stuttered and were allowed little space with only a free-kick hoofed straight out and a long ranger thumped too high the best they could offer. The referee eventually called time, I think the outcome was fair indeed although it was a touch and go contest. The Man of the Match for me goes to the Ellesemere Rangers No 2 (George Taylor) for being a rear rank component that won everything in the air, mopped up much potential danger, played with a controlled deliberateness and made many a good surge forth so offering options to his colleagues - keep up the grand work chap.
And that was that, a trip out to a grand club after a morn of mooching - we have already stated that we shall return, thank you to all for making for a friendly and worthwhile visit.
FINAL THOUGHTS - I won't tell a lie, I expected an away win here but, I was thoroughly delighted when Ellesmere Rangers ran out winners. The team have been through a rather testing struggle of late and struggled to gain any impetus in this competitive NWCFL. Today they showed more than enough to indicate that relegation is not a certainty and opposing teams will certainly not be getting things all their own way. At times they moved well, played with alert composure and had many options when in position. More importantly, when not owning the ball they worked hard and kept the opposite pack honest and without time to plan. For me, as long as they hold onto their belief, stick to their principles and when in front, avoid getting pushed back, then I think the next few months could look rather rosy - I hope so. Cleator Moor Celtic are holding their own of late and there were many elements on show today to prove why this is the case. Several players have pace, the pack has a never-say-die attitude and when called upon they can muscle their way back into a lost cause and keep a winning outcome possible - these are fine aspects of a decent side for sure. A little more pace is perhaps needed, a quicker start to games so as to avoid any early setbacks but other than that - they should move on a little further as the season progresses. For now though, tis the Macron Cup I have my eye on, I see Ellesmere play either AFC Blackpool or AFC Emley - we may just well have a piece of that!
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