GREG'S GRIPPED OFF

28th December 2020 - Manchester Gregorians 2 v 3 Royton Town - Up early, out to a Nature Reserve and then a walk around a reservoir.  The good lady's phone was checked and it turned out that the planned football was cancelled due to snow.  We had a back up in the form of the Manchester Gregorians and so after arriving back at the car we made the 40 minute journey to the Belle Vue Leisure Centre and met up with STP Stu.  A short drive to Subway was needed for brews and some cookies and back to the ground we went with a wander across the main stadium to the ground at the far side of the complex.  Local gulls glided by after a trip to the tip, folk began to wander forth to get their football fix and we chatted with a fine guy whose grandson was playing for Royton.  One of the subjects that came up was cricket and we discussed several old players including Bishen Bedi, the man with a top-knot turban, a deadly spin bowling action and, believe it or not, a corkscrew nob.  In fact Bishen once opened 21 bottles of wine in 1 minute using nothing more than his twisted todge - a record that still stands to this day despite several recent attempts made by Steve 'Spiral Sausage' Jackson - impressive hey? 

Eventually, as the chill began to bite, the teams appeared, warmed up and took up their positions.  This was not a day to hang around and at 1pm the game was afoot and with fingers akin to a set of chilled chipolatas I began to scribble an account of what went on.

Royton made the early running with slick passing and great eagerness.  No 11 (Ethan Sutcliffe) was soon in, a shot came as did a block with the resultant corner giving way to bugger all.  No 5 (Jack Worrall) had a free-kick soon after that took a deflection and pinged off the vertical - now that was unlucky.  Royton continued to play some sugar-sweet football on the deck whilst The Gregs were still not with it and just scampering around like a flock of anally thrushed up chickens - a nasty scenario for sure.

Several quick passes came from The Town, carving apart the Greg's rear like a rectal doctor with a scalpel.  No 9 (Liam Wood) pounced, turned swiftly and released with the ball narrowly flying shy of the stick.  A penalty shout came next, the referee was disinterested and then Gregs burst from the set neutral gear with a choice ball that saw No 9 (Josh Ripley) escape and only have the keeper to beat.  An attempt at a pseudo-lob came, it was, in truth, ruddy awful.

The guests were shocked by this scare into double-quick action.  A touch over looked as though it had been buried but brought groans from the onlookers as it the ball fell behind the meshing and then a gratis gift was posted with accuracy but No 8's (Joe Gidley) nut was pushed away with relative ease.  From the corner a brace of shots ensued, the mittman saved both and gave his team a much needed breather.

The Manc Lads eventually gained a spell of possession, No 7 (Abdo Addow) looked an option and Ripley was always willing.  The opposing force though defended in packs and gave the hosts very little pause for thought.  To be fair the home team had a great chance to open the scoring account when a delicious ball was sent forth with No 15 (Will Reynolds) nipping in but only managing to touch over.  This was a half of misses for sure.  

The minutes flew by, no breakthrough was to be had.  Royton had a shot blocked and a toe poke nearly squeezed through the keepers legs and then the Gregorians saw Ripley welly over and a corner cause trouble for the keeper that was eventually dealt with.  We stayed at a bugger-all draw for the break but this had been a good encounter thus far.

The break was brief, there was no time to dash, flash and splash which may have been a blessing.  The inner golden liquid was the only thing keeping me warm and I am sure the locals didn't need to see a depressed wintry walnut pointing their way - what a considerate chap I am.

Half two and what could we expect well...

The first attack came via Royton, No 2 (Will Morgan) was calling out wide and a pass was made but it just had a little too much zip for the hollerer to connect with.  The same team came again, Sutcliffe was in space on the flank, a chip cross saw No 10 (Travis Martin) waltz in and nut home - what a fine opening goal, just what the game needed.

Royton were now incessant,  Wood had a weak shot easily dealt with, Sutcliffe sent in a cross that caused mayhem but was dealt with and then in the middle of the park Morgan had a rush of blood, was involved in a tackle, made a gesture with his knee towards the head of the colliding opponent and a red card was justifiably shown.  Contact or no contact, you just can't do these things.  So, from a position of control and promise The Town were now a man down and within seconds salt was added to the raw and open wound.  A free-kick was given to the hosts, Addow was on it and walloped from distance with the net bulging in gratifying style - what a fine way to capitalise and grab an equaliser.  As soon as my pen left paper I looked up to see the resident ranks charge forth again.  A stunning cross came, the header that followed was choice - 2 - 1 it was in a couple of minutes of madness.

Now Royton had to respond and respond they did.  A flank foray came, No 4 (Simon Wilkinson) for the Greg's lunged and was given a red.  The free-kick came, the ball entered the box, Wood rose, bang - 2 - 2 - now that is what I call counterpunching - Archie Moore, eat yer ticker out!

My ballpoint was now ablaze (no this isn't a euphemism) and duly exploded in excitement as Royton came again, Worrall put in a world class pass and Wood buried to complete a swift, all-action, nipple-bursting turn-around.  What an outrageous period of football.

The game flashed on, Wood for Royton was in again, this time the keeper denied him the pleasure of a mesh bulge.  Worrall followed up and looked to bag a goal of his own but the shot was laden with over enthusiasm and flashed over the bar.  By ruddy crikey, this was all go!  

The trailing team now summoned an onslaught, a ball was delivered, Ripley was on it - the shot was a fraction too high to trouble the goal zone.  At last a settled period came, I blew on my tip to keep it cool (now, now you corrupt minded gits) until a Gregs corner saw a header saved and then Reynolds stride up to bury.  The outcome - wide!  Ripley for the hosts went on a barging run soon after, beat 2 markers and put the ball on a plate for No 12 (Ismael Suleiman) to twat forth - again the shot lacked accuracy and 'oomph'.

The leading squad now passed and had some good ball retention, No 7 (Craig Schumann) had a wild pop over and Wood was unfortunate not to bag another but all the while time was being assassinated and that would do for the team in front.  Before the final peep though the home lads pushed twice more.  Suleiman had a side footed shot rise too high and then a late cross saw No 8 (Joe Copeland) sneak in and put noggin on globe.  It was a golden chance to get a share of the spoils, the only prize he deserved though was a golden shower - a bad miss methinks.

The game ended seconds later, this had been a cracker with many good performances and some good football.  Man of the Match goes to Royton Town's No 11 (Ethan Sutcliffe) for just an all round awareness, well-oiled movement and for being the eternal gripe in the opposing team's gears.  A very good effort and part of a well-drilled team display.

We 3 watchers pootled home perished but pleased - it had been a rewarding day out, we shall return.

FINAL THOUGHT - a game that was won by the best team on the day but which could easily have gone the other way.  A few moments of madness, some good passing and an all round fine example of 2 non-league teams striving to play decent football instead of humping and lumping.  Manchester Gregorians took too long to get into their stride today and were out-hustled by a quick team who were really up for this.  The host pack need to make sure for the next game they are out of the blocks mighty quick and that they play the full-width of the park and keep the communication up throughout the 90 minute spell.  I may just be on the side-lines to report what transpires - you have been warned ha, ha.  Royton Town were bang on today and had me wondering what the Hell they were doing in 12th position in the league before this game.  On this evidence, and if they keep a stable set-up and their discipline, they will rise in the ranks and I reckon secure a top 6 finish.  I like the football they play, the eagerness and the quick-thinking on show - I must make a date to catch this lot again and see if they are now a force to be reckoned with.  

So, a match between Christmas and the New Year and people are moaning there is nowt to do.  By heck, this was a free game of footy, was full of quality and thrills and all done for the love of it - come on sport's fans, sack the business end, get back to Planet Reality.

DERBY DAY

26th December 2020 - Cheadle Heath Nomads 2 v 0 Cheadle Town - Well did you 'get stuffed', did you over indulge and enjoy the farce - thank buggery Santa has emptied his sack, pissed of back to his grotto and taken those obnoxious elves with him.  We pootled, reflected and chilled and watched some TV at this end.  An Elvis film had me mimicking the actor and straining my hip bones, watching 'City Under The Sea' saw me imitate a Gill-Man in the bath and nearly drown myself and well, I won't tell you what happened when I watched Lord of the Flies and threw a rock at a fat kid - it was very remiss of me.  So with court proceedings pending, a stuffy head and a need to get out I had a local Derby Match to enjoy.  I arrived early (the ground was only a few streets away), met up with STP Stu and nattered to a few familiar boat races and breathed in the bracing air.  My head is still a coconut of snot, it is getting on my pickle, the dizzy spells are ruddy rank.  Nonetheless, after a brew was purchased and a sausage butty, a viewing point was chosen and the pen and notebook were produced to scribble an account of the day.  As per the ink weaved a path across the paper, the DIY and digressing manner came as a natural matter of course - this is what I saw in my own unadulterated, unprofessional and unprocessed words - like it, lump it, use it as a means of arousal but it is surely better than doing nowt.  To add - during the writing of this report no further chunky chaps were harmed in anyway - I have learned my lesson, I'll stick to throwing bricks at politicians, bullies and selfish folk.  

12.30pm arrived and with dinner put to one side, and many a belly questioning the lack of food, the game began.  Darren Morris a Tatton Park Ranger we know joined us, as well as my mates Gassy and Angela from up Ramsbottom way.  Darren had arrived by riding one of Tatton's deers all the way down the motorway.  This was all well and good by me but why did he have to do it naked - the man is not right in the head!  Gassy and Angela came by a car powered by urine - with the pairs waterworks trouble it seems recycling is the way forward!

And to the game, The Town shot from the traps like Mick the Miller on whizz.  No 9 (Pat Davin) was in with a low shot but the resident keeper was alert and saved well.  A free-kick came the same way mere seconds later, over the bar it went but this was still a positive start from the short-travelling ranks.  Again the red and white army advanced, No7 (Harry Hatton) was the apical component and sent in a grass-grazing shot that was once again solidly saved.  All the running continued to be made by the guests until a rare sortie forth saw a shot for the Nomads squeeze out from a crowded pack and head towards the bottom corner.  The mitter did well to watch the effort and duly collect.

Eventually the hosts got up to speed, a free-kick saw 2 quick penalty shouts ensue but the referee refused to be sucked in to the claims.  A Nomads' corner was next, it gave rise to some in-box consternation with the ball eventually getting walloped clear.  The game became a battling affair with both teams giving little away and working with perspired brows.  No 10 (Kyle Foley) had a pop but the opposing keeper held with ease, already I was wondering if we were heading for a goalless stalemate - (what a pessimist hey).

The Nomads eventually began to create some pressure with the Town soaking up and then suddenly reacting on the break.  The guest No 1 (Marcus Burgess) released, Davin executed a choice turn and touched on to Hatton.  A nut back came, Davin stayed composed, picked his spot and was unfortunate to see the ball bend just wide.  The Town brandished the attacking armoury again, Davin and Hatton linked up (not sexually of course) with a chip shot coming that the keeper did well to tip over.  The angled kick produced nowt, as did a Cheadle Heath Nomads break, and the first half was swiftly consigned to the file labelled 'recent history'.

The break was spent where we were although the aforementioned couple had to dash to the lavatorial cubicles due to the inner muscles of restraint losing a certain level of control.  Luckily I had come armed with elastic bands and a strip of sellotape so could avoid leakage at will - good thinking or what!

With all back in position the second period began like the first - with the Cheadle Town unit out brightest.  Chances didn't arise and the Nomads rode the brief storm with No 11 (Jack McConnell) having a pop that wasn't too far off the mark.  The Town responded, a multi-pass move saw the ball poked through to No 11 (Benjamin Brooks) who waited a milli-second too long to execute and so had his shot saved by the keeper's well-spread legs.

Chances became a rare commodity, both teams were nullifying the other and blunting their hopes.  The home team did win a free-kick, it was drilled low with middling pace that forced a regulation save.  The corner was punched clear and the game became stodgy and flat, similar to a Fanny Craddock Nipple Flan that had been concocted with a little too much tit milk and suet and not enough vigour.  The Town eventually forced themselves on, a long cross, a nut back and Brooks lashed over the bar - it should have been at least on target.  

A home substitution came next, the said player No 16 (Yussuf Abduallahi) was immediately in the mix with a few touches in a move that was finalised by No 8 (Taylor Dyson) who was denied by a solid save.  The corner gave birth to a bastard known as 'Bugger All' - emphasis lain on the descriptive word 'bastard' it seems.

The last 15 minutes came, both teams were having equal possession but lacking thought and options.  From nothing the hosts pressed.  The guests backed off like a gang of nerve-addled hypochondriacs being approached by a colony of flaking lepers.  No 9 (Wilf Riley) took full advantage, nipped in, swung the shank and bagged the opening goal with a poke home that was far from pretty but which still notched up a very important strike.  

Time now galloped like Darren's deer with a freshly roasted chestnut up its arse.  The Nomads seemed to want this one more and played with more organisation.  Another foray forth came, No 7 (Joseph O' Brien) ran the flank, beat his marker and put the ball into 'territory trouble'.  The clearance didn't come, Riley popped up once again and doubled his own, and his side's tally - 2 - 0 - that looked to be it folks.

Before the final peep, Riley had another strike, the sweetest of the lot that was beautifully saved and then O' Brien had a go but with no extra success.  The Town managed one last assault with a free-kick touched on with no taker's arriving in time to make for a harem-scarem showdown.  The game ended seconds later, the best team had won and Man of the Match goes to Cheadle Heath Nomad's No 7 (Joseph O 'Brien) for being a persistent problem, working hard and giving his team options when they were lacking in all other areas.  A fair stint and a good way to run off the Christmas Day spread.

FINAL THOUGHTS - the annual festive derby was a close encounter in many ways but for me, Cheadle Heath Nomads played as a complete unit with lots of energy used and a more organised feel running throughout the team.  They rode the gruelling moments well, put in a full workload and came out justified winners after burying two 'not too easy' chances.  There is still growth to be had, this is a new line-up with a little oiling and tweaking needed but the evidence today points to a side with a rosier future than deemed a few months ago.  Cheadle Town were not the greatest opposition today though, they looked far from fluent and at times appeared disjointed.  I for one expected more but sometimes things don't go as planned and when slightly off the pace the end result can soon go astray.  On another day, with the early strikes being buried, the whole complexion of the game could have been so different. Football though isn't just about 'if onlys' when all that matters is getting the points in the bag.  Again there is a lot of work to do here, and the season will wait for no team.  Let us see how the next few games go for these line-ups and perhaps then we can thoroughly see potential tapped or potential wasted.  Onwards folks.

PS - the claim that I deliberately used the lasses toilets after the match is unjustified, it was a genuine mistake any man with a full bladder could make - and besides, in this weather there wasn't much on show to offend anyway!

SUNDAY MORN CUP ACTION

20th December 2020 - Denton Town (Sunday Team) 2 v 4 Infinity Initiatives FC - My punk DIY ethos runs deep, I am keen to try and view doofers and doers where and when I can, especially if it involves noise, nature or non-league football. So, when I was invited down by the ever-amiable Rob Nicholson (Denton Town stalwart and co-organiser of the Sunday Bunch) I was intrigued and of course, convinced.  When I informed the missus of the plans on the Sabbath she gave a frown but came for the crack anyway after persuasion came in the form of chocolate and cuddles.  Heading out we initially got lost but soon found our way after following a suspected Denton player in his car.  Down a back-passage we went (ooh sexy) and were soon pitch-side in the middle of seemingly nowhere (the match had been moved from Denton's home ground to this new area known as The King George Playing Fields in Audenshaw).  The ground underfoot was stickier than the palms of Errol Flynn when locked in a wine bar and the conditions looked very much like being a great leveller for this Fred Davies Cup Tie.  The teams got kitted up at the side of the pitch, were soon raring to go and the referee turned up, indulged in a quick costume change and headed into the centre circle.  Denton Town were faves to win this, they were several leagues above their opponents, in a cup match though, this counts for little.

Before I commence this review I must add that the aforementioned Mr Nicholson supplied me with team line-ups and therefore the blame for any errors I will kindly leave at his doorstep - nasty hey ha, ha.  If anyone wishes to complain please send gripes or death threats to the said bod - an address can be supplied via direct e-mail for a fee of £50.

At 10.30am the quagmire began to get a hammering with Denton the first team to dazzle via some slick, quick work.  Chances however remained at a minimum until the home lads won a free-kick.  The ball was lofted high, No 6 rose and put nut on ball and duly buried - it was all too easy and the scorer, it was suggested, should go unnamed.  Denton were soon at it again, a throw in was won but the game needed pausing as some dog shit had been spied on the pitch.  Enter Mr 'Poop-a-Scoop' Nicholson and his trusted hands.  The defecation was bagged, the game continued, the throw led to a corner that was delivered with the guest pack just surviving.

Denton were salivating for strikes, No 18 (Will Anderson) led the next assault, the cross supplied was delectable, the finish by No 7 (Wes Higgins) though was rather crap.  A similar move soon followed, a dream ball came but the attacking bod was thwarted by some concrete keeping.  Keep on trying chaps.

The Infinity eventually got the measure of the match as the rain fell and the adhesive quality of the substrate grew.  Despite this 2 Denton corners followed, the first ended with a shot from No 12 (Alex Bealey) deflected wide, the second was nutted off target.  The guests bounced back with an onslaught of their own.  No 23 (Luke Hassall) seemed to be in a position of no hope in the near corner but worked in, found the angle and executed a sublime chip over the floundering mitter - now that was a beauty although I did wonder if it was intended, either way the cat was amongst the pigeons, the pike amongst the minnows, nay the Jack Russel amongst the rats.

Denton were provoked into an immediate response.  A fleet-footed passing sequence culminated in Anderson getting upended in the box and a penalty awarded.  No 9 (Mark Bayley) stepped up, released the shank and struck the ball, the outcome, a ruddy awful miss.  Seconds later the same player was in, duly buried but was regarded as offside - talk about crappy luck.  Denton remained undeterred, they swanned forth again, Higgins fed No 8 (Ben Smith) who had a first time pop.  The keeper did mighty well to keep his netting unmolested.

The half wound on, a few dire shots came and then the hosts broke with purpose.  No 17 (Jack Kelly) provided a quality ball, Anderson showed willing, put in a cross with Bayley on it and burying - 2 - 1 - and thoroughly deserved.  During the closing stages of the first half the leading pack produced a couple of flourishes.  Kelly had a header wide and then Higgins struck a volley that was pinged behind.  A corner came, Higgins had another effort, again it was wayward and then, before the final tremble of the pea, Hassall for the II team had an hopeful punt that only just dropped over the bar.

Flasks at the ready and a choccy bar to chomp, me and the missus indulged and contemplated a good half of hoofing.  It was enjoyable, with plenty of good effort and all for free - plus it was all done for the love of the game, what more can anyone want?

The second period began, The Town pushed from the off, like a pregnant walrus about to drop a double-load.  There was great endeavour but the birthing process gave no calf of success and we were left waiting.  A local bod was now having a fire in his garden and the smoke drifting lazily by, I was hoping a stray spark would fall on the pitch and re-ignite the action,  A brace of Denton corners came, the keeper punched the first away and the second was tipped over the bar after an incoming nut had made good contact.  The lads from Infinity responded and had a couple of angled kicks that came to nowt and then No 34 (Danny Miller) became all inflamed, sent in a low shot the keeper pushed onto the post but the heated attacker was quick to pounce and prod home - 2 - 2 - place yer bets folks, this is going to the wire!

Denton were shocked, started to impose their will and after an angled kick that was only just dealt with another quickly followed, a foul on the edge of the box was spotted and a chance to restore the lead was given.  No 11 (Gage Rothwell) took the spot kick, rifled it down the barrel, the keeper saved with solid confidence, things were still all to play for.  

The action stayed fascinating, some great defending, some hard work and the odd error meant this was a captivating spectacle but not in any affected and cultured way.  The guests were up for this, encouraged by much touch-line hollering and excitement.  They strode forth, a liquid move saw the ball enter the opposing box, panic ensue and another penalty awarded.  Miller stepped up, stroked home and the upset was on the cards.

The trailing pack now looked to rebuild, a delicious ball was played into the II danger zone with the scare only quelled when the keeper dropped on the ball like a sack of grateful shit.  The game soon continued and we were up the other end with a corner won.  The globe was cast, a flick on came and up stepped No 18 (Connor White) to bag a bonus.  

Time and indecision were now Denton Town's greatest enemy.  They sprung the traps with Rothwell galloping through but being denied twice with the keeper making an outstanding double save.  Onwards the black and red flow came, chances were missed with the closest a header by Rothwell that was sweetly tipped over.  Soon after Rothwell was sin-binned after a II break had caused great concern but ended with a dire shot.  The final effort of the game saw The Town's initial scorer have a chance to double his tally with only the mitter to beat - the shot was placed and failed to hit the strike zone - it kind of summed up The Town's day.  The whistle went soon after, Man of the Match was a tough choice but the Infinity Initiative's No 1 (Victor Giminez Raventos) had a choice game, kept his side in the mix and made a series of noteworthy saves.  He deserves a nod of appreciation, and of course a box of Daz Automatic - that kit was ruddy filthy.

FINAL THOUGHT - So a million miles away from the shittery of commercialised, business-soaked Premier League football, out on a field without any frills and in truth, I loved it.  As in punk rock and life in general, the lower down one delves the more sober, good to honest effort and naturalness is found.  Today two teams came, a handful of extras and an eager referee and contributed to some real amateur dramatics in a theatre not of dreams but of reality.  Denton Town were favourites, their hopes were instantaneously tempered by an equalising playing surface and they were eventually dumped on their arses.  They have more than enough in reserve though to bounce back from this, several players caught the orbs and they have many good contacts - Up the Town I say, in all their guises.  Infinity Initiatives deserved this today due to sheer endeavour, great spirit and an undying work rate.  After going down to an early goal they could have crumbled, not so - the gumption and belief was a joy to watch and having rode their luck they bounced back and grabbed a well-deserved win.  I reckon I will check out this lot again very soon, it seems only decent.  Many may frown at the levels I enjoy - each to their own I say but never underestimate the game at Level Real.

TON-TASTIC

19th December 2020 - Avro FC 2 v 1 Squires Gate - It seems the recent COVID attack has left me jaded and I am still not 100% with a few complaints to gripe about.  Nevertheless I had a short walk with the missus before the game and turned up early at today's ground to indulge in 2 brews, a plate of chips with a barm cake and have a natter with STP Stu.  The Daily Express cryptic crossword was nailed in 15 minutes and the paper scrunched up immediately after.  This rag is brought now and again for the crossword only, the news is negative or nonsense and so the rest of the paper is best binned or used for arse paper just like all the rest of these publications.  I may start off my own daily effort - The Daily Ringpiece - open it up and the shit spills forth - at least it would be honest.  Page 3 would be a let-down but there ya go, truth over tits every time.

As time raced on Stu and myself picked a viewing point and watched the teams unwind and people shuffle into desired safety zones, the marshals were on it, there was going to be no hugging and kissing on the touchline today (thank fuck for that, some of the locals did look a little past their sell-by-date).

At the appointed time the teams took up positions under fading skies with a pseudo-Exorcist soundtrack on loop in the background - the question today was 'Who would be exorcised' and 'who would be projectile vomiting the filth of disappointment' - read on you deviant desperadoes.

The start to the game was brisk, I suspect the nipping wind up the shorts of many players was a contributing factor, there be nothing worse than an icicle on yer nob.  The Squires were wide awake and showing good spunkery with a corner duly won and delivered and No 9 (Kiernan Feeney) at the back post striving to score but just earning another angled hoof.  The ball came, a strong bonse cleared but the guests soon won a free-kick with No 11 (James Boyd) posting and the home No 1 (Jordan Latham) keeping an eye on the globe and catching with ease.  A swift break followed, the pace was electric, one pass and a shot was the outcome, the save was solid and from the resultant corner no penetration was had (God bless the mittman's chastity belt).

The game continued with a superfluity of vim.  The Gate advanced, a stunning cross-ball found No 10 (Dean Ing) who tried to turn and twat in one fluent move.  Contact was made with the incoming ball but the outcome was an attempt way off target.  Avro counterpunched in double-quick time, a quick assault saw No 10 (Martin Pilkington) at the apex producing an effort the mitter was forced to save.  A corner came, was prodded out but immediately redelivered with a back post header gratefully grabbed by the goalie.  The home lads grew in stature, exposed a moment of sugar-sweet football that culminated in a cross met by the head of No 7 (Joe Rathbone).  How he didn't bag the opening goal is beyond me - it was a real let off for the battling visitors.

Now the hosts turned up the thermals but their opponents were still good value. In fact the travelling pack won the next angled hoof which was sent in low and connected with a thumping drive.  A lunging tackle came and blocked what seemed destined to be a cracking strike, we were now getting to be overdue a goal.  No 9 (Liam Ellis) for Avro nearly provided due service but a header and a shot soon after lacked true gumption - we stayed as we were.

The game looked set for a half-time stalemate when a peach of a ball found the Gate's Ing who tidily chested down and walloped first time - the outcome, an attempt mere inches wide.  Avro had one last effort before the break, the keeper quelled any threat and so we were left to chew the bare cud.

Half-time was swift, we stayed put, the COVID marshals were pootling about, the thought of queueing for a brew was too much and besides I had a Mars Bar to deal with.  With the choccy swallowed, the head still spinning due to blocked tubes and the rain now threatening I was hoping the game would pick up a level and keep my noggin chipper.

Once again, the period started with the SG Squad out with a flourish.  They gained good territory but couldn't make any crucial breakthrough as Avro looked fairly solid at the back.  The skies now became perforated and the God of Flatulence helped the watery javelins fall with spite as a real storm drenched all and sundry.  In the midst of the inclement turmoil a free-kick for Avro was hammered low and hard by their No 11 (Kane Wallwork) with the keeper doing remarkably well to save at the near post.  The ball wasn't cleared and fell into the land of 'Come and get it'.  Pilkington for Avro was quickest to react and popped up, mopped up and opened the day's scoring.

The restart came, the weather didn't abate and neither did the action.  Squires Gate had a quick thrust, the final header went shy of the target.  A free-kick came the same way, the ball was blasted into the driving rain and was deflected into the keeper's arms - the guests were up against it in many ways.  The home team had a solid break next, Rathbone pounced on a loose ball with a snap shot that flashed past the upright.  Within seconds the globe was flying once again toward the SG strike zone, a save followed and a corner given.  The ball was posted with good whip, the tip over was more than adequate.  Another kick from the angle saw the ball cleared with No 4 (Kyle Jacobs) for Avro sending back a pearling shot that produced a quite outstanding save from the No 1 (Daniel Eccles).  This was great action, not bad for a horrible December day that saw many underparts wither and many a knee knock.

Despite driving headlong into the murky mire and trailing by a goal the guests still gave a good account of themselves but seemed to be given an impossible task.  A header came from a corner but flew over and then a rapier-like break sliced Squires Gate in two, a low cross blazed into the box, a foot was stuck out and the visitor's day had taken another turn for the worse - an own goal and now two goals down - shit happens and sometimes in great stinking heaps.

15 minutes remained on the clock, scrambling came here and there with Avro looking to kill the game in various ways.  The men from Blackpool cracked on, a ball out saw No 16 (Jack Iley) find space at the angle and bulge the netting with a low driller-killer - 2 - 1 - was there a Tale of the Unexpected on the cards - cue Roald Dahl music and a dancing naked woman (well perhaps leave ya knickers on love, it is a trifle parky).

The final countdown came, Avro had a sortie with Ellis having a shot half-blocked by the keeper and an on-line clearance needed.  Moments later the same player had a shot over and then, on the very death, an Avro sub had a pop to try and bag a last gasp equaliser.  The chance was there, the execution was lacking, the ball flew into the night sky and the game was called to a halt.

Avro, in truth, just about deserved this but today's Man of the Match goes to No 5 (Samuel Barratt) of Squires Gate who I thought had a really strong defensive game and was mightily unlucky to be on the losing side.  He kept his eye on the ball, worked mighty hard and cleared up much potential danger with a quite cool head - I reckon there are many more good performances to come from this lad - keep it up chap.

FINAL THOUGHT - On a rank day, in the midst of viral madness and with many folk out on a spending frenzy with no reason why, it was good to get away from the shittery and watch some Non-League action again.  The game, as per, was competitive and exposed two teams striving to play good football and make headway in a stuttering season.  Squires Gate are no mugs, battle well, have a good set-up and have many components that will cause teams undue duress.  I hope to get back up their ground very soon, it has always been an enjoyable excursion especially after a morn of coastal wild-lifing followed by a seaside Ice Cream.  Avro today just came and did the business.  On the day they were just a tad sharper and had the roll of the ball.  They are currently joint top of the league, not bad for a team who have only played 100 semi-pro games and during this game bagged their 100th home league goal.  There is much promise on the horizon and great potential ready to be tapped.  The next game is against Irlam, one of my fave teams and one who will certainly test the Avro mettle.  The game happens on Boxing Day and I reckon if you haven't had a Turkey Leg rammed up yer arse on Christmas Day or got you pubic hair entangled in the Parson's Nose (maybe literally ya nasty swines) then you should get on the touchline and see what transpires.  I have plans for a different game and hopefully can keep my jacksie un-Turkified - once the festive sherry flows though you never know - slurp, gobble, ouch!

DENTON TAKE THE HIGH ROAD

12th December 2020 - Denton Town 3 v 0 Maine Road Reserves - After another break from football we were glad to get back at it again with a jaunt to the Wright Robinson Sports College to see a game played away from the designated home ground (due to an iffy pitch) to a nearby all-weather surface so as to keep the ball actually rolling.  I arrived early, as did STP Stu - victuals and a couple of brews were had as was a wander and a watch of several junior games that were going on.  What a marvellous sight to see so many young 'erberts burning up energy, enjoying the game and keeping focused - by crikey it was a busy area with the recent restrictions banished and people just cracking on - it was ruddy heart-warming to see.  With several digressions had we eventually located the pitch for today's entertainment and had a chat with a few faces from here and there.  The game was destined to kick-off at sometime past 2pm, and so we waited, watched, waited and...waited.  To be fair when the playing surface became free both units cracked on, had a quick warm-up and were soon ready to roll.  My match report hand was out of practice and I picked up the pen with hesitancy whilst hoping I would have lots to scribble about without straining the old wrist.  I once knew a guy who ended up overworking the said joint and ended up having a cerebral breakdown after trying to self-abuse via a clockwork limb - tick, tock, damaged cock - not for me thank you very much.

And to the game, with the hosting unit out with a good spurt and winning an almost instantaneous gratis boot.  The delivery of the sphere was more than adequate, it was just a shame to not see one or two front bods attack the ball with any great conviction.  A free-kick followed the other way, the delivery was sound with the Town No 3 (Josh Stachini) glad to see his defensive header go behind for a corner.  The kick was posted with good clout, No 4 (Ben Pond) popped up in free -space and somehow managed to not even hit the target - now that should have been 0-1 for sure.

From here the Blue clad team moved on and adapted to the pace set.  A lovely chip pass finalised a quick move with No 7 (Mauro Mendez) unfortunate to be denied at the last.  Not long after and the same hustling component was battling away like a ferret with a freshly grabbed rabbit and after losing possession duly regained it and walloped,  The shot was wide of the mark however and we stayed free of mesh bulging action.  

The game exuded good balance, it was, so far at least, a competitive contest liable to go any way.  The Dentoidians strode forth next, the move was pure liquid gold but a last ditch tackle by a defensive bod was equal to the task and straight from the top drawer labelled 'bloody marvellous' (just next to the pictures of yours truly in a Mankini by the way).  A follow-up pop at goal came within the twitch of a clergyman's rectum (I do need to stop watching 'Songs of Praise') with No 9 (Brad McLaughlin) the executioner and No 1 (Ethan Handley) of the Road the bloke with the safe gloves.

Animation levels grew, the hosts came on. Mendez provided choice service for No 10 (Shaquille Lewys) to touch on and No 11 (Harry Rowan) to recklessly blaze over.  Again the red shirted squad pushed with Lewys receiving the ball only a couple of feet out and somehow managing to fluff his shot and not even trouble the mittman - that was a stinker.

More chances arose, space was appearing in many zones, all that was needed now was a few players to don their sharp-shooting, real darn' tootin' striking boots.  The tide eventually began to flow the way of the home team with Mendez having a golden chance to bury but lacking that decisive touch.  Rowan cut  a swathe soon after, the peg was swung and the ball flew towards the strike zone with accuracy levels high.  The underside of the bar was clattered and the ball was cleared, a few shouts claimed it had crossed the line, I for one didn't think so but reckoned the effort did deserve a goal.  

With the chill rising off the pitch, Denton turned up the thermals on it.  Lewys had a pop, again the keeper answered all questions asked.  Lewys began a new mission next, he barged like a rhino through a shop of porcelain vibrators (oh what quivering chaos) and the visiting defence trembled but offered little in the way of an orgasmic response.  The rampaging brute was unceremoniously tumbled, the referee pointed to the spot and McLaughlin buried with complete simplicity - it had been coming.  

The half now advanced to the break with haste, things were still competitive but the Road were on a knife edge.  They nearly fell further behind when a Denton free-kick was hammered into the wall, the follow up shot by Stachini forced the the mitter to save and spill and Lewys had a golden moment to bury.  The attempt was truly awful and it was the last scrawling my pen was to do during this first period.

The half time break was brief, as was my excursion to some nearby trees to expel the golden liquid.  It was too nippy to indulge in some exhibitionist piddling so it was a case of produce, point, piss and put away - I am sure many locals were extremely grateful for the lack of pecker action.

Half two and The Road pushed from the off.  The Denton keeper was caught playing silly buggers and going on a roam.  A cross eventually came and No 11 (Zaid Baroudi) had a close-in header and the gloved fellow redeemed himself with a high quality save,  2 corners followed, Denton stayed safe.

Both teams kept things flowing in an open game but genuine chances were a rare commodity and when any side trespassed into a situation of danger the end result was some very poor decision making.  The Town eventually applied some consistent pressure with their opponents forced into a position that was holding little threat.  A corner came, was half-cleared with No 8 (Aaron Clayton) running in and booming the underside of the bar with a quite rasping shot.  Again the referee said 'no goal', by heck was there going to be a twist in the tail of this game after all?

Denton carried on undeterred by their misfortune, McLaughlin produced a neat turn and twat with the ball palmed behind for a corner.  The angled crack came low and hard, a touch came but again couldn't find the target.  Onwards the team on top came, Maine Road were now in scamper mode and just hoping for any morsel of salvation.  Suddenly the Blues failed to clear, Mendez collected, cracked one forth and into the net - 2 - 0 and for what I had witnessed thus far, it looked as though the game was done.

Primarily the traffic was now one way. Clayton for the Town had a shot on the turn that saw the keeper produce a dazzling save and then Mendez put a cross in that No 9 McLaughlin could only put over the bar.  A couple of corners followed within minutes, the first was shite, the second met by the cranium of Lewys who was denied by an on-line block.  The closing stages came, the Heavens darkened and rain loomed.  Denton Town were looking to seal matters and thought they had done so when a fluent move was finalised by Lewys - alas the referee said no goal.

The icing on the cake eventually came with Lewys in the mix again.  The said player shot, a save came but McLaughlin was quick to react and fed on the scraps like a shithouse rat on a turd.  The globe was fired home, thank you very much and after Mendez had one last effort go close that was that and we were left to contemplate a fairly routine win.  Man of the Match today goes to Denton Town's No 4 (Cole McGrath), a sincere calm rock at the rear who offered little in the way of chances to the opposing force and who exposed some great defensive composure when the need arose.  When a team has such a reliable force at the back confidence surges throughout - it is a simple equation.

FINAL THOUGHT - A lovely journey out to a heartland of encouraging football mania for all ages - we need more places like this to keep folks focused and active.  The game today, in retrospect, saw one team destined for promotion and one team in real need of some new thinking and on pitch purpose.  Maine Road competed in parts but during the final third of the game looked a team out of ideas and set up without a hope of scoring.  This surprised me, as the club from where they come are always worthy of time and have a good footballing ethos.  What I saw today has me considering if this lot are faves for the drop, and if so, where do they go from here.  There are many good components in the team though, it is just a case of getting them playing as one complete force.

Denton Town roll on, today wasn't the most convincing performance despite the score-line but these are the games that are crucial and when numerous chances are missed, the floodgates remain closed and fluency is lacking the fact that 3 points are still bagged shows there are many depths to this team and things are looking mighty bright.  The only worry is the end decision making and the lack of assassins marksmanship.  Chances, when arising, need to be buried as some teams will be less forgiving and take true advantage of any let off.  Today Denton got off lightly, if they come up against a more clinical side they could be punished and punished hard.  Having said all this though I am still sanguine in my belief that the team will rise to the next level - as ever, watch this space or even better still...get on the touchline.

HERE WE GO AGAIN

5th December 2020 - Bolton County 1 v 2 Stockport Georgians - The first match viewed after another COVID based interruption.  In the interim, myself and my good lady fell foul to the pesky virus and are still feeling a bit off, work has cracked on as normal and I have made good headway on many fronts especially during the isolation period.  A few mates have also been infected, a few conspiracy theorists fallen out with and some good eggs embraced for what they are.  It has been a testing time for all as the government play human chess instead of trying to have empathy and understand that people are not guinea pigs.  I could rant and rave but, like I say, I am still a little under the weather.

The day today was used well, up and out for a walk, a few fungi and birds were seen, the sky shone blue and the chill was decent enough and only forced me to water 2 standing trees with my golden yellow fluid.  The best fungus found was one that feeds on caterpillars and pupae - Cordyceps militaris no less, a species that may one day mutate and take a liking for people - now there is a scary thought.  A nip to the toilet for a quick whizz and an undercarriage covered in fruiting structures - very nasty.

After the walk a 30 minute journey was made to today's chosen ground where STP Stu and his good lady awaited with warming brews - what stars.  Natters had, Mrs STP buggered off and we took up our viewing positions.  The air was now holding a distinctive nip, we were hoping for some thermal radiance from a game that looked a real close call - here is what happened.

At 2pm the ball got rolling and a Kestrel hunted nearby, but which of the on-field predators would be the first to bag some prey or in fact, a goal?  The opening sequences were fairly balanced but were nearly swung one way when a Georgians long ball saw No 9 (Joe Bevan) collect and dart and get tumbled in the box.  Any contact was minimal, penalty claims rent the air from several regions but the referee stayed cool and waved play on.  The guests followed up this moment with a foray forth that bore fruit in the form of a free-kick.  The delivery by No 7 (Kyle Wych) was neat but no takers arrived and the home lads cleared their flustered ranks.

We were soon racing away up the other end with No 11 (Maz Shereen) out wide, cutting in and squeezing in a low grass cutter that needed hoofing off the line.  In response the visitors strung together a quick 3 pass sequence from back to front with Bevan the apical component and having a low shot.  The ball had good impetus, the keeper looked beat and indeed was, but the ball rolled the wrong side of the upright and the chance went down in the file of near misses.

From here the home team warmed up, gained a good period of possession with Shereen a permanent arse pain.  The said player eventually received, put in a good cross that was just a little too pace-laden for the attacking bods.  The globe was retrieved, played back, Shereen was on it again and from range let fly a beauty.  The contact between boot and sphere was perfect with the outcome a top corner finish to salivate over (or indeed use as masturbation material if you are that way inclined, mucky git).  It was a stunning opener - now then Stockport Georgians, what have ye got?

The game advanced, the guests were getting caught offside a little too often and in too much of a rush for their own good.  Bolton were battling well, won a corner after much fuss regarding an offside call.  The shouters and doubters were told to be quiet, the ball was delivered with No 4 (John Smally) nutting over.  The trailing pack tried to react with two efforts by No 10 (George Blackwell) bearing no success.  A free-kick hit the wall, a shot soon after was deflected wide and the corner dealt with - the County were standing firm.

The half wound down, efforts on goal came and went with Bolton's No 9 (Tom Axon-Smith) coming close when surprised by a ball at the back post that he just couldn't manage to bumble home.  No 8 (Will Wareing) for the Georgians had a deflected dig that the keeper held well and Blackwell tried his luck again but the ball just had a tad too much uplift.  Eventually the half ended - it was a good encounter so far and all set up for a ding-dong second period.

A piddle was needed for the swift interval, I was reluctant to part with the last warmth in my carcass, I knew I should have brought a few elastic bands and a wine cork.  Back to the touchline slightly dithered and without time to fart the teams were back at it.  (To note, I was in no way prone to flatulating as I had not eaten anything wind-inducing of late but I want folk to know that if I was expelling warm gases from my ring-piece all the locals would be invited to warm their hands on the expulsions - I just think it the Christian thing to do).

Half two, the Stockport set up was out with their tails now wagging.  Pressure mounted but the hosts found respite with a quick burst.  Alas the advances fizzled, the guests broke with a hat-trick of quick passes down the flank.  Bevan was the last man in receipt, the head went down and goal was spied.  The shot came, was thoughtfully placed and the meshing bulged, 1 - 1 - the perfect response after the break.  Seconds later an attack saw Bevan felled in the box, shouts went up for a spot kick, the man in black ignored all.  A shot came as play continued, the keeper tipped over and a corner kick was requested, again the man in the middle refused to agree, or was his hearing playing up - I suggest a lug trumpet.

A certain friskiness now crept into proceedings, Axon-Smith for Bolton was sent to the sin bin to repent of his misdemeanours and as his side went down to 10 man status they did well to gain a greater foothold and dig mighty deep.  The numerically challenged pack won a corner, the ball went in and out, No 6 (Josh Evans) had a crack from distance - the outcome, a car in the parking area was now sporting an ugly round mark.

The action went from one end to the other - akin to a glutton with a bad case of vomiting and diarrhoea. No 2 (Liam Short) for the home lads had a pop, the keeper dealt with it all too easily and then the visitors broke and won an angled hoof.  The ball entered the box, a header came, whose bonse it was was anyone's guess.  A moment of terse panic was finalised with the ball bobbling over the line - who scored it I have no idea - I may need to do some on-line investigations.

With time now galloping by the leading unit looked to kill time whilst the team in deficit strove to summon a chance.  The clock was unforgiving and raced on with the outcome being that we stayed as we were with little else to report.  This had been a good tussle, a fair result would have been a draw but there ya go, this hoofing lark is never one to play fair.  Man of the Match today goes to Stockport Georgians No 5 (Jamie Pickering) who I considered to be a monolith at the back, an immovable force who read the game mighty well and snuffed out the oncoming danger time and time again - strong stuff indeed.

With the game done we headed home, perished but happy with a good Non-League spectacle.  Need I say, we will be back.

FINAL THOUGHT - After one match planned, called off, alternative arrangements made and then scuppered, things turned out mighty sweet in the end with a good day out watching two closely matched sides.  Bolton County are a tough nut to crack and really made their opponents work for the win.  They have a fine back line, a really competitive battling midfield and some pace up front with a willingness to chase a lost cause.  I can't see why this lot will finish out of the top six, the qualities are there, all that is needed is a doggedness to stick at the task when results don't run their way - I hope to catch these on their travels next time, should be interesting.  Stockport Georgians are top of the Premier League and today showed tough resilience and a desire to work from the trenches to turn around a 1 goal deficit and gain the win.  The defence is well drilled, work as one and make a foundation on which the rest of the team can confidently build.  Bevan up front is a menace and looks likely to bag a scrotum full of goals this season and several of his counterparts look liable to get a good fill too.  A foolish man would bet against the SG Squad from winning the league but one never knows.  All it takes is a lack of confidence, an assassination attempt on the manager or an outbreak of nob pox in the Stockport Borough and the team could be struggling.  As a Stockport residence myself I hope the latter-mentioned plague of the privates doesn't manifest itself, I have only just recovered from the last bout which I believe I caught balancing a Wood Blewit on my willy - I should know better but alas, I don't!