So arse parked, banana and squid ink at the ready (well I did say certain
requests were impossible to meet) and here we go again with Abbey Hey Pete
joining us for the evening's entertainment. We had a delay at the start
as the floodlights were playing up and one half of the pitch was left in
semi-darkness. Several bods in the distance fiddled with the electrics
and after some uncertainty and several 50p pieces had been put into the
appropriate slot we were eventually blessed with a fully radiated ground...and
to the game we go!
Maine Road came out with their usual high energy with their opponents showing equal spunk and making for a quite hectic start. The first attempt on goal came for the home team, their No 9 (Jack Coop) sent in a purposeful driller that missed the target but closer than one first deemed. The blue clad pack advanced again, some choice and acute passing was terminated when No 3 (Paul Earlam) was allowed to cut in and pull the trigger. The shot was deflected wide, the corner led to a break away but the apex of the move lacked confidence and we stayed as we were.
The activity levels remained elevated, the guests won a free-kick that was
delivered and dealt with. A return shot came, the ball bounced quite
harshly before the gloved guardian who did well to turn it onto the post and
eventually behind for an angled hoof. The corner may have posed no threat
but the pressure from the Garstang mob kept on growing. A header nearly
found the net and then, against the grain, The Road broke, No 6 (Oscar Campbell)
threaded a fine ball through the smallest of gaps and the ball was neatly
tapped into the net - it was with disgust that I noted the liner's flag waving
for offside.
From here the contest became more balanced, No 8 (Ben Mooney) for the hosts
stung the keepers mitts with a robust punt and then No 10 (Owen Pollitt) had a
middling dig that the man between the sticks found a little less hurtful on the
hands. From here, and quite unexpectedly, Garstang seemed to drop deeper
than the voice of Frank Bruno and really created some unnecessary mither for
themselves. It was a complete contrast to how they started, a
Jekyll and Hyde moment that got the home teams hooters of hope twitching (not
to mention their prongs of potential). Eventually the resident ranks moved
with purpose, the ball was passed with razor accuracy, the Garstang defense was
opened up like a tin of Bartlett Pears, Pollitt was in the right place at the
most opportune time and put the ball into the net to break a rather awkward
deadlock. 1 - 0 we were, the away team's manager did sound a trifle irate.
From here, up to the interval, the hosts shaded all areas. Coop had a
couple more pops, one at the keeper, one into the chilled night air and then a
quite sumptuous move saw the swift passing end with No 2 (Ryan Smith) nipping
in and shooting at close range and bringing out a stunning save from the quick
and agile visiting No 1 (William Kitchen). From the corner the ball was
knocked down and played across the face of goal. A gasp went up from the
crowd, sphincter muscles were squeezed, a buzz of anticipation invaded areas
best not mentioned but alas, no assassin's toes appeared and soon after the break came
and we all headed for warming liquids.
A quick wander, tea purchased, and back to see what the second half would
offer. The crowd looked rather chilled, they needed something to stir the blood - here's hoping.
As is usually the case, The Road came out quick but Garstang were showing good
pluck and more than holding their own. A close in header for the
traveller's was unfortunate to enter the keeper's awaiting arms and then from a
bout of midfield muddling Road's No 7 (Jamie Roe) played a tidy ball to Pollitt who released
a howitzer that just had too much uplift. Coop had a dig the same way
soon after but blazed wide and then we entered a rather constipated period
where the bowels of the midfield clammed up and refused to shit forth any
decisive droppings of success and not even the odd fart of promise. From
the unyielding discomfort the laxatives of optimism eventually kicked in,
Garstang came on strong, a long ball found their ever-industrious No 9 (Richard
Coar) who had a swing on the turn but was foiled by some last ditch
defending. In return to this minor fright Roe for the hosts played
another simple but mightily effective ball that Campbell latched onto and bent
forth towards the strike zone. The curl was decent but not quite enough
and a few feet wide of the mark the globe flew.
As we progressed into the latter stages of the game the outcome was still
uncertain. Shots came each end, both mittmen did their bit, albeit in
rather unorthodox styles. Into the last 10 minutes we were
propelled, Mooney for the hosts worked inward and let fly, again a deflection
saw the ball go behind. A corner came, Garstang stood firm and duly broke
with No 12 (Joe Melling) out wide putting in a sweet cross that Coar met with
the crust at very close range. The keeper's peeper's never left the
danger-laden sphere and he produced a more than adequate point-blank save - now
that was a chance if ever I saw one. With only a brace of minutes left
the home team gave one last concerted push, Mooney cracked one from a middling
distance, the keeper palmed rather than gathered, it offered the chance to
Pollitt to react, make contact and grab the second and decisive killer goal - 2
- 0 and seconds later that was indeed...that! A grinding affair was over,
there was little in it and the Man of the Match was a tough call but Maine
Road's No 1 (Conrad Betton) must surely
get the nod because when it mattered most he produced the necessary saves and made sure
his team kept their noses in front whilst always having something to fight
for. It takes great concentration between the sticks, this was a fine
show of how to keep your mind on matters and of how to be alert at all times -
good stuff.
So that was that, the first of 3 games on the bounce, onwards we go.
FINAL THOUGHT - This was
not a classic, at times it was a cagey affair, now and again it became
eggbound. Throughout though we had intrigue and a precarious balance with
two eggs of success laid and the Blues advancing into the quarter final stages
and Garstang returning to league duties with a right old battle on their
hands. The visiting team seemed to have many promising components and an
array of options but today seemed to contribute a schizoid performance that,
for certain periods, appeared ambitious and then now and again seemed to lack
that killer confidence. They need to take stock, realise they are better
than they think and start to go at matches with a Gung-ho forthrightness - I
reckon they may be surprised. The Blues showed me tonight that when not
fully fluent that can remain disciplined, stick to their principles and come
out of a dogfight with a win. In the past I have seen the team get drawn
into a mucky and messy affair and end up in disarray and on the end of a
beating that really shouldn't have happened. Tonight they weren't at
their best but at times moved the ball with swift precision and problem
creating decisiveness. Who is to say they can't win this cup, they are
certainly a team to be reckoned with when at their best and now, with this new
found grit and grind style they could indeed go all the way. It would be
a lovely thing to witness but we are still only at the quarter final stage and
their next match is a real tester with 1874 Northwich undoubted
favourites. The game will take place on 15th February 2020 - you have a
choice - get it in your diary now or stop in and watch another repeat showing
of 'Columbo and the Riddle of the Sexual Satsuma' - ooh decisions, decisions.
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