14th August 2021 - Eagle Sports 0 v 0 Knutsford FC - Arising with the lark and out to Airlift Hill we went where we were set to lead a wildlife walk at an area under threat and in need of some protection. The weather was average and hardly helpful when looking for bugs but, with many eyes I was required to tally up a good count and with blooms, mini-beasts, a few birds and some added extras the end total was 87 species. After the walk we noted that it was only 7 mins to the nearest football ground, a bit of Cheshire League action it was then. Upon arrival it was aggravating that no warm drinks were available as well as no grub. Add to this the fact that there was no cover and the drizzle started to fall - thank goodness I am sporting the Percy Sugden barnet look these days.
I am picking when and where I do my reports of late as I am stretched all ways and need to offer quality rather than quantity. When I put pen to paper today little did I know that I was ready to witness a bunged-up ball booting affair with a greater chance of Stan Ogden rising from the grave than any teams scoring a goal. Hey ho.
The game began is a good battling fashion with the hosts winning an early corner kick that was met by the ascending bonce of No 3 (Ben White) who couldn't keep the ball below the horizontal. The Knutty Boys paid back this early scare with some high investment on the ball with No 9 (Aaron Burgess) and No 10 (Jay Phillips) each delivering noticeable crosses with the ball just lacking the final killer contact. A gratis hoof came the other way, the header was won by the leaping No 10 (Danny Hutchins) but the projection of the sphere was straight at the keeper and had as much 'oomph' as one of Mavis Riley's naked photo shoots.
A corner came next, it went to the Eagles and was delivered with good loft. The keeper came and punched and was duly clattered in the process. Two more angled kicks ensued, both ended with disappointment - it seemed like the game was going stale, akin to the Corned Beef Alf Roberts had been trying to sell for a quarter of a century (ooh the nasty twisting bastard).
Little action arose, a shot did pop out of the murk and the mitter spilled with a sigh of relief blown forth after the loose ball was wellied wide. The tightness of the contest reminded me of Ena Sharples' knicker elastic after she had gained 20 pounds following a hot-pot eating contest - there was no give at all. Suddenly the resident unit indulged in a great passing display that culminated in an effort on target that was halted by a quality laden save - from here though, bugger all else of note was had.
During the break Gill wandered to the car for a choccy bar and rejoined me at the opposite side of the pitch. This was looking destined to be a bare-bollocked bullet - we were not pleased by this and the fact that no hot drinks were available only added to our disgruntlement. I did call Gail Tilsley to see if she had a cafe nearby but the silly bint was in Bognor with a Ken Barlow look-a-like.
Half two was viewed, Knutsford sped from the traps quicker than one of Jack Duckworth's pigeons from the arse crack of a thrutching Minnie Caldwell - cripes, what an episode that was. Burgess turned his marker and won a corner for his leg-whirring efforts. The ball entered the box, a header cleared the lines and a return cross was wasted - bring on Albert Tatlock I say - surely he can do better than this.
Knutsford pushed again, a cross came and the home keeper yelled his lungs out so as to claim. The ball was dropped. No 12 (Juan Vilches-Narro) pounced - for a second I thought the deadlock was going to be broken...meanwhile back on Planet Reality!
The game staggered on, similar in fact to a drunken Don Brennan after he had lost his leg. Composure was lacking as both teams tried to up the ante. After much ado about nothing Eagle Sports won a corner - can you imagine my disappointment when I had to refer to it as 'shite'. The huffing and puffing continued, No 14 (Ben Geary) for Knutsford made a late spurt but was denied at the death by an alert mitter and at the other end No 15 (Harry Preidt) belted one into the heavens as if to full-stop the misery. With mere minutes on the clock Knutsford called upon the last dregs of patience. A ball was punted, Phillips flicked on, Geary collected, rounded the keeper and took aim from an acute angle. The ball headed goalward only to quiver the timber and eventually get cleared. A couple of half-chances followed before I put the final full stop on my notes - thank buggery that one was over.
From the stalemate a few good stints were seen with my personal Man of the Match going to Knutsford's No 6 (James Manson) for a measured and effective stint and some honest galloping here, there and everywhere. A free ale in the Rovers Return, a quick tour of Mike Baldwins factory and a night on the nest with Fred Gee is the prize - go forth dear fellow and enjoy.
We beetled off homeward wondering if goals were merely an imaginary thing or do they actually exist. Ah yes, the sound of ball bulging onion bag - I remember it so well.
FINAL THOUGHTS - It goes without saying that this was not a classic and left us uncertain as to the positives and negatives of both teams. The game was laden with endeavour but alas, what we had today was a mere clash of styles. Think of the time when Ray Langton and Eddie Booth both went to the Vegetable Based Fancy Dress Party at Emily Bishop's house and both turned up as podded peas - a distinct clash for sure with very little rewarding style. In sport and in life, these situations arise - two units pushing hard striving to make an impression and all the while creating a stagnant and static stand-off. Eagle Sports need to work on their heading game methinks and on another day, with some good crust behind the ball, could have gone a couple of goals up. Knutsford just need to be a little more relaxed up front and race forth with earnest passion (no not Earnest Bishop) and make sure support arrives in abundance. In my hectic schedule I will try and give a better overview of the teams later in the season and hopefully will be relating tales of astounding 30 yard sizzlers and physically defying scissor kicks rather than comparing all to second rate wankers in a shitty TV drama liable to turn cranial quality to useless soup - I do apologise.
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