7th August 2021 - Cheadle Heath Nomads 2 v Abbey Hey 3 - With the ears ringing, the head spinning and anxiety nipping at my nadgers I woke early doors, led a small party of folk on a walk in the rain and arrived home fagged and flaky. I still summoned enough energy to arrive at the local ground where I hoped to witness a good pick-me-up encounter. The mandible was put to good use exchanging words with many fine folk one of whom was Roy 'Public Plumbing' Welsh - a man who likes to pass water on a professional basis and who is taking bookings as I type - 'slash-tastic'. After acquiring brews and a hot dog myself and Roy wandered to my personal executive box where the said Pissing Pirate related tales of epic squirts he had indulged in and the famed 'Golden Shower of Gretna Green' incident that really brought our splash-man to the fore of public attention. Eventually we were joined by a few other fine folk including Abbey Hey Pete who, may I add, purchased a copy of Reprobate Road along with local Snap-O-Matic man Mark Torbitt, who also provided the match piccie below. Fine stuff indeed. The game began at the special witching hour of 3pm, I expected an away win, but hoped the Nomads could knacker my inklings - here is what went on.
The initial moments of today's 90 minute escapade were akin to an unfinished jigsaw with no real pattern made and many unconnected aspects to be seen. Both units looked a trifle ring rusty but Abbey Hey looked keen to shake off any action-hindering oxidisation with several advances holding a certain promise. A surge came with No 2 (Jake Dunford) receiving out wide and wasting no time in making haste and posting a pin-point accurate cross for No 9 (Ben Halfacre) to tap home - the offside decision was quite disappointing to say the least, but brought great delight to a local wag who insisted this one had 0-0 written all over it.
The Hey makers came once more, prodding and poking like a Prostate Doctor on whizz. Another cross was posted. No 11 (Dylan Fitzgerald) rose and put belfry on ball but the contact was as weak as a stickleback's water. The Nomads hurried and harried and eventually got some purchase on the globe with No 11 (Max Lewen) having a pop only to see the side netting bulge. Abbey Hey continued to be on top however and sent in several more balls into the box. On more than one occasion the guests were thwarted by the offside rule and when No 10 (Jordan Lazenbury) did sneak in and looked set to bury, the hosts' keeper did his duty and quelled the danger with a firm set of hands.
The opening goal look destined to be going the Hey way until an innocuous throw in for the hosts came, ended up at the feet of No 7 (William Shawcross) who, from a tidy distance, duly let fly and opened up the day's strike account with an absolute pearler. Where the utter buggery did that come from? Seconds later and the always hard-working Nomadic No 3 (Jake Wright) took a clattering that left him a trifle dazed. A free-kick was awarded, the ball was moved around, Shawcross was on it again and dared chance a most ridiculous lob over the keeper. The ball rose, the keeper back-tracked, the ball fell, the keeper looked bewildered - 2 - 0 - what a absolute peach and what a capricious few minutes of soccerised sensations. Suddenly a roar was heard from the main stand, the excitement had all become too much for Roy Welch who had dropped his pants, took aim with his porker and was propelling forth a fountain of celebratory urine right into the nearby gardens - a snippet in time showcasing how this glorious game can easily unhinge those with a dodgy prostate gland.
From here the half hurtled by with Abbey Hey striving to half the deficit (at least). Two corners came and went, a Nomads' free-kick was like a constipated elephant's anus and bore fuck all and then the visitors advanced, time and space were a rare commodity but Fitzgerald used extra nifty feet too cultivate a couple of inches and garner a peek at goal. The shot came, the ball raced into the net unhindered and completed a decent and much needed goal. The half ended soon after, were the Nomads in danger of blowing this one?
I stayed put for the break with good old Pete wandering for the brews. The local predictor who had opted for a goalless draw now claimed he meant 2-2 and even convinced several eavesdroppers of his faux pas - some people hey, comics incarnate and worth the attendance fee alone.
The second half began, Nomads were out and at it with No 9 (Daniel McLaughlin) in, but thwarted by an alert mitter. A corner followed but was delivered with too much uplift. A moment of suicidal tendencies came next when a home back pass saw the Hey's Lazenbury nip in and look to level matters, thank goodness the resident No 1 (Alexander Fowell) was on his toes.
The game now donned an untidy countenance with one team desperate to get back in it and the other eager to protect the lead. The pressure eventually rose on the home netting, a free kick came, wasn't dealt with. The ball was redelivered and Halfacre had time to collect, pick his spot and bury with relative ease. The ball nestled in the bottom corner as the Hey pack celebrated, now the home lads had a real fight on their hands.
Abbey Hey now imposed themselves on the match, the lead should have been grabbed when a cross found Lazenbury who from mere feet out was denied by a quality save. The Cheadle chaps summoned an attack, a ball fed McLaughlin who was halted by the rear rank Dunford who produced a tackle of high standard that surely stopped a shot on goal.
Time advanced, a Hey corner was played short, a pass followed and Fitzgerald walloped over. No 4 (Thomas Murray) posted a rasper next, this time the shot was just shy of the vertical. The hosts were now like a flock of clemmed Jackdaws, - flapping about looking for scraps. The Hey Brigade were akin to a gathering of hunting Sparrowhawks, eyeing up every opportunity to sate their hunger.
Two chances came at either end, two point blank saves kept the scoresheet unaltered until... Abbey Hey broke, earned a free-kick which was played, touched on and collected by Murray who took his chance well and brought unbridled joy to his teammates, the bench and the onlooking supporters. The game looked destined to be only going one way now as the guests continued to push. During the latter stages the home team did well to recharge their batteries and create one or two half chances, the best being a header over the bar by their willing No 16 (Wilf Riley). Alas the sands of time ran out, Abbey Hey had not been at their best, but had pinched this one, the opposing ranks looked utterly forlorn. Man of the Match for me was Abbey Hey's No 5 (Aaron Fleming) a cultured and calm player who remained collected and in control throughout and who will be having a very good season indeed if he continues with the same attitude and approach.
I set off home at a slow waltz and was overtaken by a galloping Mr Welch - he seemed to be walking with a certain clenching of the nether-regions - I wonder where he was off to.
FINAL THOUGHTS - In truth (there is no other way), I thought both teams were not charging on all cylinders today and lacked a certain fluency. Sometimes certain match-ups can have this effect and a clash of styles can hinder the flow. Abbey Hey though have started the season and bagged some foundation points and can only kick on from here and do the business. Prior to the start of the campaign I expected this lot to be in the top six and have no reason to change my opinion. There are some good players in the mix, but they do need to start working as a complete well-oiled unit soon or a few upsets may be on the cards. The Nomads are in a spot of bother at the moment and it isn't pleasant to witness. 3 games, no points, 11 goals conceded and with a hat-trick of real tough fixtures ahead. The crux of the problem is not easy to lay one's finger on, but more chances need to be made up front and the back needs tightening up for sure. The work ethos is decent, the energy and camaraderie there to be applauded, maybe a little luck is needed to turn things around, but one thing is for sure, come the end of August, if the fat bint known as Lady Luck doesn't play fair, some serious shittery may be hitting the fan - I for one hope this doesn't happen.
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