7th March 2020 - Groundhop Special - The time was here when I would indulge in a 7 game
spectacle and sacrifice all sense of decency to the Non-league Footballing
Gods. I was planning on doing the usual reports for each and every match
but time, uncertain weather and a need to keep my sanity dictated otherwise.
Nevertheless I am great believer in putting back, tis in the punk blood so here
goes everything, here goes nothing...here goes something!
The weekend should start with a shit, a shower and a shave but I am a rushing
skanky bastard at times so only indulged in a blow-out of the bowels and opted
for a quick swill in the sink rather than a full-on cleansing. At 54
years of age it isn't easy using a pair of stepladders with one's trousers down
and the art of dipping one's undercarriage in a steaming basin of lavender
water is an ultimate test of one's sense of equilibrium. I must admit
when I eventually removed the plug I did so without removing certain dangling
bits and it was only with the help of my good lady wife that I managed to free
some ensnared scrotal skin from the all-sucking hole. By heck, it brought
flashbacks of a sexual incident I once had with a Jack Pike, now that was a
nightmare but such are the dangers of using one's John Thomas as fishing bait!
I was considering doing all 7 matches of the hop and after much deliberation ended up doing just that. I had many areas to catch up on but for once I would immerse myself in a full on footballing fiasco, I was hoping it would be worth it.
So, here is a take on what I did do, a few games with my best mate and lovely
wife Gillian, a few with some wonderful folk who make the Non-League jaunt a
joy and more than enough with that bald bastard STP Stu. Of course I doth
jest about this latter bod, he be a stout bloke and always fine company, alas
my remarks about the glabrous pate though are only too true - thank goodness I
have flowing locks to be proud of.
And to the nub of the matter, here's doofing and just to let you all know, my
testicles have been in self-isolation before writing this report and my todger
has been frequently bathed in Aloe Vera Hand-Gel - I guess I have fallen victim
to the hysteria and am being overly cautious but anyone who shook my hand during the course of the following events need not have any health concerns, for the one or two who tried to grab my dongler - well, your worries are all self-created.
MATCH ONE - Sandbach Utd 3
v 1 Alsager Town
Firstly, and to a keenly contested match between two teams who have not
fulfilled their ambition this time around and who are floundering at the bottom
like two spasm-laden Sticklebacks in a pond of polluting uncertainty. Me
and the good lady finished our working day, got ourselves fed and watered and
arrived in good time to find a viewing position amid many hop-o-maniacs and ticking-clicking enthusiasts. I prepared to scrawl, whilst watching the ball,
this was certainly a match that was difficult to call (up yours John Keats).
The game started in quiet fashion with Sandbach playing rather high up the park and looking in danger of being caught by a counterpunch. A brace of shots soon came at the home
goal, both merely feeling out efforts it seemed but soon after a break of more purpose
came, the ball entered the box and an Alsager player, with his back to goal
was vulgarly pushed to the deck in a quite unceremonius fashion. The referee had no choice but to give a
penalty which was wonderfully belted into the top corner by the keen-eyed No 9 (Stephen Jones).
The main mush of the
following footballing action was highly fragmented with movements of 4 or more
passes noticeably absent. Alsager always seemed in the ascendancy but the
hosts worked hard and eventually broke away. A shot at the guest keeper
had hefty weight, the mittman could only parry and No 11 (Will Saxon) was happy to pick
up the scraps and slap home - we were all square and that is how matters stayed
for the remainder of the half with both teams lacking ideas and any real
thrust - I think all felt a little deflated.
The second period was played out with considered labour and during the early exchanges chances were utterly minimal. The home ranks were having a good deal of possession though and came close via their No 7 (Jack Hart) who half connected with a cross but could only quiver the stubborn upright.
From a continued gloop matters remained as dreary as the outlook of Edgar Allen Poe as both teams stuttered and staggered like a pissed up Patrick Campbell. Suddenly, a nothing ball came for Sandbach, No 10 (Valdemar Schousboe) with his back to goal, took the ball on his chest, turned on a tuppence, darted like a whippet with the shits and delivered with razor-sharp accuracy - what a fine goal this was, a thrilling highpoint in an oasis of lulls and greatly appreciated by all in attendance, all that is except those with a soft spot or close connection with the now trailing pack.
The game now picked up, Alsager were on the back foot and nearly gifted their opponents two goals but just managed to survive. Another opportunity to ripple mesh followed after some in-box kerfuffle but the Bullet's keeper spread his carcass well and made the necessary block. Eventually the team in deficit worked up a lather and had a punt at the strike zone but the host keeper produced an eye-catching save that kept his own team's hopes buoyant.
The ticking machine was now Alsager's greatest enemy, we had only a couple of minutes left plus one or two added. There was much battling but again serious advancements were rare until the SB Squad gave one last heave-ho and from a seemingly harmless position won another spot kick. No 9 (Daniel Bartle) stepped up to finalise the result, he slapped the ball with good pace, the keeper saved but the penalty taker would not be denied and followed up to bag a 3 - 1 lead which, moments later, was confirmed as the final result.
Sandbach United had emerged victorious from a sludgy, hard-fought bottom of the table porridge, on reflection they deserved the win and put a bit of daylight between themselves and the perilous drop-zone. Alsager will have to dig in and fight to the wire - of course I wish both teams well, go for it chaps.
Man of the Match - No 7 (Jack Hart) of Sandbach Utd
Attendance - 455
Match Moment - Man, that second goal for Sandbach United was an absolute peach with skill, focus and coolness all combined into one genuinely solid footballing moment.
MATCH TWO - Wythenshawe Amateurs 1 v 0 West Didsbury and
Chorlton
Up
early and whilst pondering the previous night's football I had eggs on toast
for breakfast and a good old cup of Rosie Lee. The eggs were dropped from
the rectum of the Throat Wobbling Nut Chaffer - a fine bird that breeds only in
Chinese chip shops and has a penchant for eating dandruff flakes - I am keen on
keeping my palette intrigued and not insulting it with mere battery-based
produce - think on peeps. Eventually, with my tum filled and cranial
house in order I was dropped off at the first ground of the day to watch a tie
that looked a crippler to predict. I arrived at 9.30am, STP Stu arrived minutes later whereupon we supped
a brew in the sun and watched many keen hoppers arrive. After chats with
some local football fans and that fine ground pinging 'erbert Daniel Turner
from Braintree a position between the dug-outs was taken and with the sun
shining, a Buff Tailed Bumble Bee making a fly past hope was springing eternal
for a good opening game to start off a long footballing day.
The kick-off came, tempo
was high with an early cross posted into the West's box whereupon the home No 3
(Christopher Howard) collected, had one look and walloped home. With 4
minutes on the clock this was a great start and followed by some very upbeat action.
The tackles that flew in were firm but fair, the guests did the most pushing
but the hosts were like a box of Tena Pads and showing great powers of
absorption with little leakage anywhere.
For all the WDC advancements the best they could accomplish was a
raucous penalty shout. The referee displayed no interest, the Ammies
broke, No 9 (Quirino De Ataide) was at the apex and a free-kick was had
but...it bore complete FA and the half wound on in double quick time. The
defences stayed in control, many strong performances were being witnessed and
the chances of another strike seemed slimmer and slimmer by the second.
Howard for The Ammies had a dig that the keeper blocked with another penalty
shout following and once more ignored by the central official. This was
the final morsel dangled the punters way, we may be starved of goals but this
had been a decent half for sure.
During the break, the
aforementioned Mr Turner decided to sit in a dug-out and eat half an Easter
Egg, myself and Stu stayed put and nattered away - I had had my egg ration for
the day, Stu was happy with his shell-like pate - job's a good un'.
Part 2 of this opening
encounter saw The West gain good territory with a brace of angled punts causing
untold concern for the Wham Clan but not resulting in any net-bulging thrills.
The home lads showed good responsive powers with a free-kick from No 10 (Ryan
Briody) met by the belfry of No 4 (Thomas Horner) who forced the keeper to tip
over in brilliant style. From here we saw a pattern set in stone with the
hosts adopting the crocodile stance of sitting low and looking to pounce whilst
the guests hunted and hawked like a flock of whizzed up Anal-Hornets (watch yer
arses folks).
Note was made during the
half of the WDC keeper who produced a handful of choice saves to
keep his side in the contest with a brace of stoppages real last minute
salvations of peeper-intriguing quality. The speed that the game passed
was testament to the perpetual motion of all involved and during the latter
stages Wythenshawe got a better grip on matters and looked to finalise the
result. They nearly did this when De Ataide had a serious opportunity but
was again denied by a quick reacting mitter. The final whistle came with
the hosts on top, still composed and showing a good team-spirit and, in
reflection, the 1 - 0 victory had been thoroughly well deserved.
I am sure fans of the
losing team would say this game was a bit of a turkey but, from a neutral
standpoint, it was a game full of gumption, good endeavour and with a stubborn
resistance shown by the home team. The West were below par today, it
happens, this is a competitive league and despite being my pre-season
promotion-bound favourites there is some serious work to be done - let us see
what happens over the closing weeks.
Man of the Match - No 6 (Paul Riley) of Wythenshawe Amateurs
Attendance - 546
Match Moment - The West
Didsbury and Chorlton
keeper did have a good game despite being on the wrong end of matters and the
save from a close-in header was a joy to behold and surely capable of giving Bob Wilson a hard-on, well played that
man.
MATCH THREE - Wythenshawe Town 3 v 2 Abbey Hey
One game down today, 3 to go, and after a trip over in the 4-wheeled automobile of the aforementioned Mr Evans
(thank you kind sir, darn good of ya mate) we all arrived and paid our dues. Enthusiasm was high, peckers were up and a spring was in the step. I was a trifle
clemmed so indulged in a few satsumas - I was hoping I wouldn't shit myself
whilst watching the game, it was still early in the day and having citrus
soaked duds for several hours was not my idea of fun. Mind you, there are
some rare fruit-flies I have yet to identify, maybe just a few aromatic farts
may attract them, here's trying 'rasp, rasp.
The ground was already fairly bloated with bods, we managed to find a seating
area but stood up before kick-off so as to get the shanks stretched. The
weather looked dubious but only one shower came and all and sundry were
blessed. The game went something like this:-
A notable equilibrium was
seen during the opening exchanges with the guests very much up for the
difficult task ahead. Their hustling antics caused the hosts due stress and it was after only a few minutes that a home header was missed, the keeper was in a momentum of indecision which allowed Hey's No 9 (Jordan Lazenbury) to nip in and roll the ball home to grab a somewhat shock lead. Despite this early wake-up call the onlookers were treated to little action until The Town surged via their No 2 (Dominic Smalley) who invaded the opposing territory, refused to shoot and played the ball to No 11 (Matthew Bryan) who gratefully booted home without fuss - now this was interesting.
Again we hit a period with many spills, few thrills until a rush of blood came in The Town's box. A leg was swung in the heat of the moment, a yellow card issued and a penalty given, I am still unsure as to what actually went on. It didn't matter, Hey's No 4 (Grant Spencer) was keen to bury the penalty and this he did to turn this game back on its unpredictable bonse.
As proceedings galloped forth the hosts worked darn hard to get back into this one but Abbey Hey were appearing as a well drilled unit and obviously not happy with just a one goal lead. Towards the latter end the guests galloped and displayed concentrated determination with the ball eventually going goalward but just about cleared at the last by the back-pedalling No 5 (Jan Palinkas) - buy that man a pint. The whistle called for a break soon after, this had all the ingredients for a second half stunner - the fingers were crossed immediately after I had been for a Jimmy Riddle behind the stands.
Segment two of this 3rd hop-affected footballing escapade saw a quiet start suddenly explode into action with the home No 9 (Liam Crellin-Myers) at the end of a sweeping move and given time to select a pass. The ball was sweetly played, possession fell to No 7 (Brad Byrne) who cracked home and got this incalculable affair back to parity - cor blimey, whatever next?
End to end action now came in speeded up style. Wythenshawe Town were now looking favourites and this leaning was soon rubberstamped when Abbey Hey were smartly robbed of possession by Byrne who knocked a gorgeous ball to Crellin-Myers who, in turn, slotted a shot between 2 defenders and the keeper to snatch that all important lead.
From this point onwards one expected the home ranks to dominate but Abbey Hey struck back immediately with a quick move ending in a dazzling shot by Lazenbury. A goal seemed guaranteed as the globe zoned in on the netting but the home No 1 (Callum Jakovlevs) produced a most picturesque save that was an utter highpoint of a game still undecided.
The journey to the final whistle saw the team in front gain greater control whilst the trailing pack became ragged and somewhat desperate. The Hey Brigade did muster a late push, 2 shots were blocked before getting through to goal, a third dig evaded all defensive efforts but the keeper was there to save. Another attempt at a breakthrough was snuffed out with greater ease and that was that - the home team march forth to promotion, Abbey Hey still have more to do to secure their place at the next level.
There were no complaints from all those who had witnessed this one, 5 goals, plenty of effort and a fair end result - off we all dashed for the next course of soccerised goodness.
Man of the Match - No 9 (Liam Crellin-Myers) of Wythenshawe Town
Attendance - 589
Match Moment - The save from The Towns keeper when his team had just taken the lead for the first time was not only straight out of the top drawer (just next to the sausage-shaped suppositories and Mr Scrotum Ball Cream) but was a game saving moment for the home team's efforts.
MATCH FOUR - Cheadle Heath Nomads 1 v 5 Stockport Town
The closest ground to my house, a mere 5 minutes walk away and always a pleasure to visit. The set up usually caters for 50 to 70 people, I was very keen to see how the catering would hold up today plus what cabaret performance club secretary Nev Pearson would be putting on for all in attendance - surely not another session with the synthetic duo-balls and genetically-modified Shallots - it be a reet eye-waterer. My good lady picked myself and Stu up from the previous ground and kindly booted us out at destination 3 before going home and having a chill (she deserves it). There where many familiar faces in the mix, still keen to get their footy-fix - I think they are on something, perhaps they have been smoking the freshly rolled anal hairs of Colin Bell or snorting the powdered perspiration of Alan Brazil - ooh the highs of it all. I was more decent in my approach and merely slammed a bag of glue and popped a couple of Bob Martins worming tabs, I felt fuckin' great!
The game began at 4.20pm, the embryonic offerings saw Stockport easily progress with a through ball dissecting the Nomadic defence and allowing No 7 (Jardel Depeiaza) to collect, advance and slip past the keeper in the simplest of styles. This was not what the home team needed after a recent run of quite shabby standard. The response was decent but without any apical threat and when The Town moved forth once more the whole rear of the hosts was caught in a certain disarray. No 11 (Tyler Ferguson) was allowed to wallop from an area of little concern but still managed to find the back of the net, it seemed to me like the game was already done and dusted.
The difference between the teams was pace and general organisation, I had real concerns about how many goals the resident team could actually concede. In the space of 2 minutes 2 more strikes were quickly bagged with No 5 (Christopher Middleton) burying from a corner kick and then a swift and decisive attack being finalised by Depeiaza who had hardly broken sweat thus far.
The rest of the half saw a more leveled out encounter with the trailing team winning a few free kicks, a couple of corners and having one or two surges but all to no avail. This was a comfortable cruise for Stockport, the break was a blessed relief for the Cheadle chaps.
The second half began with much feistiness from the hosts with The Town forced to scamper and strive to keep a clean sheet. This was not to be though as the goal of the game soon followed with the CHN crew passing with care and then pouncing with a delectable chip pass putting No 7 (Kyle Foley) in space with the keeper off his line. The player with the ball used a quick thinking bonse and delightfully chipped one over the mitter into the awaiting net - what a beauty, what a shame it seemed to be almost pointless.
The following bout of booting action saw the referee get whistle happy and Stockport Town happy to coast along and play with the foot off the gas. It seemed we were set for 1 - 4 until a suicidal back-pass was committed by the out-of-luck unit and Depeiaza waltzed in and coolly stroked home the 5th and achieved his personal hat-trick.
The closing kerfuffle saw little in the way of high-end quality, the hosts stuttered and seemed to be gasping on empty, the guests were going through the motions and happy with the 5 goal haul. On the final stroke a free-kick was awarded to the travelling pack, the substitute (Gavin Salmon) walloped with heavy-footed zeal and hammered the underside of the bar - it was an almost perfect punctuation mark to a job well done.
The better team won today, there should be no complaints from either side about the result. Neither team will do much this season but next year Stockport Town should be in the mix-up and before then, it seems Cheadle Heath Nomads need several sticks of dynamite shoving up their arses - we shall see what happens - kaboom!
Man of the Match - No 7 (Jardel Depeiaza) of Stockport Town
Attendance - 342
Match Moment - Despite being on the wrong end of a footballing arse slap the goal that Cheadle Heath Nomads scored was a real well-timed beauty. Two chips of exacting precision brought great appreciation from all in attendance, it was a pity it was the only high in a poor Nomadic display.
MATCH FIVE - Cheadle Town 2 v 1 Maine Road
My boiled eggs were now aching, my ears ringing with footballing waffle
and my eyes awash with visions of hoofing players scampering this way and
that. The last time I had visions as such was when I indulged in a
'Sensible Soccer' marathon and won 3 league titles, 2 FA cups, 1 special
Coconut Cup and ended up in bed with a one legged Malcolm Alison
look-a-like. Those computer games certainly try and go the full-hog when
it comes to reality although I did think the nude pictures of Peter Swales in
the operating manual was a rather corrupting touch.
After chits and chats to more boat races the
outlooking post for match 4 of the day was selected. Several people
looked to be suffering from a soccerised overdose and it all became too much
for one poor fellow who duly stripped bare, squatted and defecated forth 28
footballs and, more painfully, 2 corner flags and a 'live' referee - and here's
me thinking Coronavirus was bad.
To the game and as the teams took to the field I expected much animation and
super-quick action. From a rather insipid start the first team to attempt
to grab the gonads of success were Cheadle Town. It was 20 minutes into
the match which reflects what a dull opening period we had all had to
suffer. The sortie came, a ball into the box was deflected away and the
danger looked to have diminished but No 9 (Patrick Davin) was quick to react,
thumped the ball goalward with a strikers greedy instinct and buried like the
well-seasoned goal-getter that he is - the game certainly needed this.
Alas the match continued in mode 'awful' with very little happening to
inspire this onlooking git to put pen to paper. The home No 11 (Benjamin
Brooks) did have a dash forth but was denied by the opposing keeper and despite
the guests playing with much spunk and spirit the overall episode was deemed as
'constipated'. Before the break The Town had a free-kick but the outcome
was nothing to get excited about. We were due a duff do, this was
certainly it, let us hope the following period has a little more in the
'thrills' department.
During the break myself and STP Stu wandered out in the open and watched
the game from the opposite side of the ground, at least the breeze would keep
us awake if not the game.
The match restarted with Cheadle Town on it. Pace and passion were
now evident and after a brace of minutes a corner was won and delivered.
The defense cleared, a return shot came and Davin was there to get a touch and
claim his second and give his team a much needed cushion. From here I
felt as though The Town were in control but The Road never know when they are
beaten and always run themselves into the ground. The game became flatter
than the buttocks of Cardboard Carl the Cut-Out Man from Plumpton, the guests
perspired hard to try and salvage hope but the best they could manage was a
brace of corners that produced sour bugger-all.
The flow continued to be stodgy, Davin did have a chance from the mire
and was only denied by a well-spread keeper - I think the fellow did deserve a
3rd, he certainly puts in a good stint. In return No 8 (Ben Mooney) for
MR had a good pop but the elevation was too high and then on the 84th minute a
push by the Blues saw the ball go in, go out and be sent back with purpose by
Mooney who duly buried and gave his side a small glimpse at the commodity
called 'hope'. Alas it was only a glimpse as the final minutes hobbled by
with both teams cancelling each other out until the blessed relief of the final
whistle came. Just before the final peep of the pea-based instrument a
close in header for Maine Road looked set to finalise matters in unexpected
fashion - the ball however was nutted over the bar - it was the final
disappointment of a trying match.
A bit of a stinker this but there is an art in winning ugly and Cheadle
Town seem to be quite adept at that. They did deserve this one, Maine
Road were definitely not at the races tonight and didn't do themselves
justice. I do watch these two teams quite regularly and have seen
them indulge in some real fine games, this one however is best filed away at
the back of the bottom drawer in the folder marked as 'shite'.
Man of the Match - No 9 (Patrick Davin) of Cheadle Town
Attendance - 380
Match Moment - The basin of desperation had to be scratched here to
find a genuine pinnacle and I almost opted for the pie I had before the match
due to its quite tasty yumminess. I reckon Mr Davin's first goal deserves a
second mention though as it came from a messy mire, brought hope of an upsurge
and indicated a fine predator's instinct and sincere eye for goal.
MATCH SIX - Congleton Town 2 v 4 Northwich Victoria
We were going to go wildlife hunting today, having done the previous 5 football matches I suggested to my rather patient missus that it would be good if I could attend the last two, she was kind enough to see my way of thinking and join me on the touchline. We set off with plenty of time to spare and arrived at the ground 2 hours before kick off, 9.30am no less. A bacon butty and a brew was welcome and we sat in our usual spots, soaked up a bit of solar energy and watched has the crowd grew. Gareth and Sandra Evans plus Sandra's brother came for a chat before wandering around the perimeter of the pitch and taking in the general 'atmos'. It was a grand morning and as two Mistle Thrushes fed on the pitch and a sexed up Dunnock sang from atop a nearby tree I was quite happy to sit quietly whilst my good lady read her book.
At 11.30am the stands were busy, the crowd was healthy and we were all ready to go. We both like this ground, it may be our favourite, we like the home team too but I did fancy an away win today - ooh heck, come on The Vics, come on The Bears.
A feeling out period saw little goal mouth action during the initial minutes of this highly anticipated match but on the lucky 7th Congo swiftly jumped into action with a deadly ball played that released No 11 (Aaron Johns) who gathered at his dashing feet, made progress towards the strike zone and posted home with a true assassins instinct. It was a sweet and simple strike and set the stage for a fascinating contest.
The Vics seemed stunned but very nearly responded with a free-kick and follow-up shot that needed a gloved hand to see the ball over the bar. Two corners followed, both were delivered with whipping curve the second of which was met at the near post by the bonse of No 6 (Brandon Barski) who tidily tupped the ball home. Now this was more like it!
Throughout the game so far excellent impetus was noted with both teams working up a steam and trying to play good football. The guests eventually won a corner with No 9 (Saul Henderson) close on the keeper and being a nuisance as per. The ball was bent inwards, uncertainty and indecision were the obvious factors from an in-box mess and when the ball fell free for a fraction of a second up popped Barski to double his teams and his own tally and snatch a quite surprise lead.
Congleton were now called upon to dig deep, they seemed to be playing a little too deep for their own good and generously giving their opponents the upper hand. This was a very good game of football though with many aspects to consider. We had no further breakthroughs during the rest of the half, on the edge of our seats we were left.
During the opening throes of the second half The Bears came out quick and growled with a bit more gusto. No 9 (Daniel Cope) was the first to have a pop at goal with an hopeful punt that the keeper fumbled but just recovered before the whole of the ball crossed the line - ooh the lucky blighter. The relieved mitter kicked forth a long ball, No 11 (Bradley Lynch) was quick to receive and with 3 defenders paying him close attention he still managed to squeeze away a shot that found the back of the onion bag - now that was some sneaky goal.
From here The Vics outworked and outran the hosts with great perspired passion oozing form the pore of every player (nasty). Great pressure was being applied, a pressure that soon bore fruit with a Congo error forced and the home keeper caught in No Man's Land. Lynch was in the right place at the right time, stayed composed and tapped home another goal - it seemed as though an away victory had been well and truly secured.
As hail fell with spiteful deliberateness Congo tried to defy all storms and cultivate a ray of hopeful sunshine. Cope had a firm dig blocked, No 10 (Jonathon Beaumont) followed up with a shot of good tempo but the keeper read the state of play and easily pushed behind. The Congo ranks were renewed and came again, Cope played a forward pass, Beaumont executed a cute disorientating dummy and Johns slipped in and gracefully slotted home. Was there life in the old bear yet?
The closest the hosts came to bagging a third was when a cross came and the visiting Barski nearly hammered into his own net. Thankfully for the defending dude the ball flew over the crossbar. This was the final serious action, The Vics had come, conquered and could be home in time for a good Sunday lunch - I think they deserve an extra helping of stuffing too.
The first game of the day done, 6 goals seen, some decent action and a bacon bap nicely devoured. I was surprised by Congleton Town who seem to be destined to under-achieve yet again. I am sure they will amend matters as soon as and we will certainly be back to offer up our humble support when time allows. Northwich Victoria did what they needed to do today and did it mighty well. They seem a team with good prospects, they just need to stay together and make sure they keep the same impressive impetus - it will be interesting to see how they go on next season.
Man of the Match - No 6 (Brandon Barski) of Northwich Victoria
Attendance - 495
Match Moment - I thought the second Congleton Goal was a work of sweet simplicity. The direct approach, the perfect dummy and the cool finish showed what Congleton Town are capable of, it was a pity that today it was all a little too late.
MATCH SEVEN - Winsford United 0 v 2 1874 Northwich
A dash from the previous ground was marred by having to take a roundabout route - apparently the local roads were being worked upon but a sneaky rumour had filtered my way that a gang of groundhoppers had been taken short and after indulging in a multi-leak break they had recklessly flooded a vital thoroughfare. Such are the hazards of transporting a coachload of aging prostate glands - I am sure many urinating bods would blame the Congleton tea - they are merely in denial. So having avoided the rivers of gold we eventually arrived at the final destination of the hop with 20 minutes to spare which soon turned into 35 minutes after we learned that the game had been delayed. We both needed to expel water by this stage, I had to almost cross-jets in the rather crowded karsis, I don't know how my good lady managed, I hope it was far more decorous than my vulgar situation.
Free of bladder-stress we wandered to a standing spot and joined some hopping friends. Beneath my feet I noted Thale Cress and Red Dead Nettle in flower, a few more wildlife snippets to keep my naturalistic head intrigued.
The sun was out, the sky was blue and the game started with 1874 exposing great positivity and the usual 'go get em' ethics. Winsford seemed happy to sit back and try and break-away, for me it was a dangerous tactic to adopt against such a prolific and always troublesome side. 1874 had several attempts on goal during the opening exchanges with no real trouble caused but with promise and passion kept high. No 11 (Lee Knight) was being a noticeably problematic character for the hosts with many choice passes and runs made. The best 74 could do though was a shot via No 3 (Jack Tinning) which was deflected over whilst Winsford harried and hustled and made the visitors earn their crust. Suddenly a handball claim against a 74 player rent the air, the referee said play on. The Northwich lads pressed on, the ball was played forth and defended back until it fell to the feet of No 8 (Matthew Woolley) who, from all of 30 yards, decided to launch one. The spherical object cut through the air, the keeper dove and reached out wide but only to see the ball hit the inside of the post, fly across the full length of the goal and drop into the net - now that was some strike, what a way to gain the lead!
Northwich were now juiced up, a liquid move came, 3 passes and a chance to stroke home was only denied by a outstanding save - what a good do this was. Soon after the home No 1 (Scott Reed) was called upon to make another exemplary save but the respite was only temporary as 1874's Knight picked the ball up in his own half, tiptoed forth, had a quick surge, advanced some more and threaded his way into the box through several players. The progressing player spied a chance to double his teams lead and finish a stunning run - he duly took it. Wow - what a strike, the goal of the hopping weekend for sure, we were certainly getting our money's worth.
Before the closure of this first half and after much 74 dictation Knight advanced once more and instead of hammering home No 9 (Stuart Wellstead) left the ball for a comrade who was noted for his absence without leave. Now that would have been the killer!
We had another wander during the break, out into the open to a sunny spot where we chatted with the dad of 74's No 3 (Jack Tinning) who used to play for a more local side to us, namely Abbey Hey - I did wonder why I kept seeing this bloke here.
The final half of football for the weekend was soon upon us, the guests galloped first, a cross came, the shot that followed was well saved. Winsford now needed to get a grip on this one or a drubbing could be witnessed. Fair play to the hosts though, they battled like chimpanzees over a packet of No 6 fags (ooh smoking monkeys, the controversy) and kept the high flying opposition honest to the last.
A somewhat tight patch came, some semblance of balance was created by the hard-huffing resident pack with the No 3 (Andrew Hackett) certainly getting stuck in and coming in for a fair share of verbal abuse from some nearby OAP's. The contest, despite being 0 - 2 had a feel of a cup clash with both units battling hard for the next breakthrough. Hard endeavour was blatant but a net bulging bonus never transpired. During the latter end 74 did have a shot after a corner was played but the home keeper saved well and a few moments later we were done.
Winsford United are on a rotten roll at the moment but showed enough grit to certainly get things back on track, all that is needed I feel is a bit more belief up front and a touch of the old Lady Luck. 1874 Northwich go marching on, promotion seems a certainty and there is a cup up for grabs too - it could be a tasty double and who could deny them. They are the best team in the North West Counties League and when they do progress I shall make sure we pop in and get a few matches under our belts - it would be rude not to.
Man of the Match - No 4 (Lee Jackson) of 1874 Northwich
Attendance - 627
Match Moment - The best was saved til last on this groundhopping weekend and by crikey Lee Knights one man effort was something rather special. The run from his own half into the opposing box was crafty and sweetly rose in tension with the hoof homewards the most perfect way to finish such a surge - get that man a bag of chips!
SWIFT SUMMARY - By heck, what have I done? 7 games in 3 days and now I am way behind on many fronts. I know I could have just attended and not done a report of any kind but my punk streak insists I always try and put something back as a way of appreciation and thanks and so the previous scribblings were done. The weekend, if the truth be told, was deemed as not really my thing as I knew all the grounds would be busy and I was destined to miss out on my noise and nature fix. Having said this, I can honestly say that the 7 game glut was thoroughly enjoyed and good value for money and time. Fine folk, many absorbed and happy faces, clubs having a good payday, the word of many overlooked doofers spread and some good footballing action had - what is there not to like? I will never take up 'hopping' as a serious hobby, I am happy doing the usual clubs and just popping to the odd new one now and again when time allows but good luck to all those that indulge and if it keeps clubs ticking over and making a few extra quid it can be no bad thing. Over the weekend many people were busy, entertained and kept out of mischief and I am sure many new contacts, friendships and good times have been had - that is a double bonus for sure. I heard talk of another groundhop in a few weeks up in the land of Scots, I suspect many faces seen over the last 3 days will be there - I hope they get the same pleasure as I have from this jolly jaunt but can guarantee I won't be there as I'll be off out nature watching and perhaps gigging - I know my limitations ha, ha.
Finally thanks must go to all clubs, the staff and players, the crowds and the volunteers who made this a rewarding escapade - next time around, if the clubs are local I may dabble again, I shall have to treat my good lady mighty well in the interim, mind you I always do, I know my priorities and have never really suited a black eye anyway - onwards!
THE FINAL STATS
Games attended - 7
Goals seen - 27
Highest crowd - 627
Crowd total - 3434
Not bad hey!
