BERNARD MATTHEWS APPROVED

18th December 2019 - Cheadle Town 1 v 2 Stone Old Alleynians - The week had been spent working, watching football and having some real hum-dinging nightmares - I was rather frazzled before tonight's match to say the least and after washing machine mither, some on-line provocation exposing the usual nob-rottery I marched down to destination 'Park Road' where I met STP Stu and shared a brew and had a good chat.  Of course, upon arrival, I had a brief natter with the amiable bloke on the gate, a chap who always brightens the horizons and despite the odd bodily compliant, always remains utterly chipper.  I reckon he is ether drugged out of his mind, is totally insane or has an oiled up rubber man at home that has certain appendages that will make even the most fed up soul smile.  I once tried the 'Bendy Bob' option, I ended up with some severe skin burns and chapped lips that the doctor seemed quite mesmerised by - luckily I didn't mentioned the blistered nipples.  Anyway, before I digress further,  the good company was enhanced by Rob York of Stockport Town infamy plus a cuppa and a choccy bar (cheers Stu).  Once up in the stands Nomads Nev joined us with his forte of 'shite' jokes and always friendly banter although I am sure his cracks about burning all bald women are a trifle un-PC (he does have a point though).  And so, with the distracting globe whacking being my prescribed medicine tonight, I was, as per, hoping for a goal glut with my money on the away side pinching this one. I must admit though, I am not known for my predicting skills, in fact I have yet to meet anyone who has an ability to predict the outcome of these Non-League conundrums, it is what makes it so intriguing I guess.  And, as per, to the game proper.

The gnashers of the guests were bared early with direct intent shown.  The wind was going to be a critical factor tonight with its blustering uncertainty set to create a really patchwork contest.  The first chance from the swirl-fest saw the home No 8 (Andrew Lunt) muscle in and let fly a shot on target that the keeper easily dealt with.  No 7 (Justin Pickering) came next, weaved his way into the box and had a penalty claim before getting up, dusting down and re-posting the ball that the keeper mis-punched and a defender cleared off the line.   A promising start with Stone eventually getting up to speed and playing a few long 'with the wind' balls.  Eventually one such hoof found No 9 (Jack Tomlinson) with the ball at his feet 25 yards out and with the opposing keeper on walkabout.  A close marker was shrugged off, a first time dig skidded over the dampened turf, 0 - 1 it was and a well taken strike was bagged.

From here things became drab and dreary with the gusts taking the fluidity out of matters and making for one arduous affair.  A Stone corner led to a Cheadle break that saw the guest keeper dash from his line and just about thwart the plans of the advancing front man.  At the other end and Tomlinson nearly snuck in but again that bloke with gloves did what he was required to do.  A distinct void of excitement led to an atmosphere lacking in life, the cold, the rain dominated, the distant call of a warm living room, a Fray Bentos and Kojak on the telly all seemed a million miles away.  Tomlinson attempted an overhead kick after a defensive muddle with the result not far off the mark but, other than that, the game remained rather flaccid.

3 corners were had by the visiting pack, all brought no joy, the last of these angled hoofs saw Cheadle gallop away with No 9 (Patrick Davin) at the apex and denied at the very last by a quickly sprawling keeper.  Before the break Stone's No 6 (Oliver Davies) rifled one and brought out a solid save from the resident No 1 (Marcus Burgess) and then after a couple of offsides at each end, we were done.

Cuppas were provided by the Cheadle Heath Nomads secretary Nev Pearson at half-time, I made sure I watched mine being served and that no muscle-relaxants were popped into the liquid.  It was a nice gesture by Nev but I am not a fan of having a sore arse at Christmas so thought it best to be just on the safe side.  We chatted away to a few folk during the break, the general consensus regarding the game so far was 'shite' although one sharp bounder did ardently claim that this verdict was an overstatement.

Back in position, the start was poor, we were indulging in some early festive Turkey, I may become a football veggie, pass me the sprouts of success you bastards.   Suddenly my dish of misery was pushed aside, a pudding of promise was offered via a long free-kick awarded in Cheadle's own half.   The ball was cracked forth, the keeper reached, misread the trajectory and fumbled.  Up popped Davin and, like a retro-frontman, bumbled the ball over the line - it was a crappy goal but very much needed - phew , surely this was the finger up the gobblers arse we were all waiting for, now for some stuffing!

Cheadle now began to apply some solid pressure, their No 11 (Ben Steer) was a key element with many good dashes and some humongous tosses from the touchline which posed many a problem.  I have witnessed a few touchline tossers over the years, it was nice to see a positive bent on this label, one tries to stay upbeat.  The aforementioned bod took a free-kick next, the ball took to the air, dropped towards to top corner but the guest keeper did well to push over the horizontal.  The corner posed no further threat - as you were folks.

Stone struggled to get to grips with the head-on howlings, the gusts doused all attempts at progress until a defiant surge saw a free-kick won.  The ball was struck firmly at the goal, the keeper saved but couldn't hold, up stepped No 10 (Matthew Thomas) and the travelling pack had regained the lead. It was a choice moment as the Stone keeper had been getting some dug-out stick from the opposition after his own fumble and yet Karma played a spiteful card and a full pay back had been dealt - one should never tempt that tinker called Fate.

From this point Cheadle dug in, Steer had a chance to deliver a quick counter but the man between the sticks saved mighty well and then some rather disjointed scrapyard tussling took us down the final furlong with the referee's back buckling, a few tasty tackles flying in and in the end, the conditions winning the day.  The final whistle came, we considered this game as not of classical proportions and from the cloying porridge I nominated the Stone Old Alleynians No 9 (Jack Tomlinson) as Man of the Match for being a perpetual thorn, grabbing a goal and always being free and willing.  It was a hard job to be up front on such a night, the lad did well to stick to his task that's for sure.

FINAL THOUGHT - To be fair, I would be very harsh to judge the teams on the evidence shown tonight as it was a very sketchy game lacking any choice cut and thrust and damned from the off due to the cryptic hands of Mother Nature.  What I could make out was a home team still not fully settled and certainly not the finished product with the creative juices not fully flowing and a lack of direct drive apparent.  The away team are a solid unit that can grind out a result even when things are not in their favour and are very much in the hunt for promotional prizes this time around.  This is one tough league though, Cheadle Town will do well to get to mid-table, anything less than a move up to the next league will be considered a disappointment for Stone Old Alleynians.  After the festive hoofing and late winter battling things will be a little clearer as to where these units will end up - somehow, I think there may be some close calls along the way and few upsets - we still have a long way to go folks.  In the meantime, for us humble onlookers, let us hope we get a few better matches to view along the way and this ruddy unpredictable weather behaves itself for a bit.