As the wind blew and the gasbagging continued the teams came out and got matters underway in front of a crowd of 100+ people. The commencement was fairly balanced with the guests applying a subtle and gradual pressure. A throw in was had, a cranial touch on and the ball was nudged forth with the home keeper somehow keeping his sheet clean with an on-line block. From the clearance the ball was nutted back to the halfway line with the travelling No 9 (Furo Davies) collecting, noting the keeper off his line and launching a looping shot that fell just shy of the vertical - now that would have been some strike.
Cheadle eventually got their act together and came on with No 10 (Ryan Usher) providing a quality lay-off for No 4 (Andrew Lunt) to gather, touch on and wallop. The IOM No 1 (Matthew Quirk) watched the direction of the globe and made a quality save. The follow on corner was easily nutted clear.
The next action soon ensued and it began with a long goal kick from the home keeper. No 9 (Patrick Davin) duly went on a chase, displayed good strength to knock the ball on to Usher who wasted no time whatsoever in sending in a low sizzling shot. The outcome, 1 - 0 and the cat was amongst the pigeons, nay the rats were amongst the disposable nappies.
Stunned and reeling the Isle of Man set-up wasted no time in counterpunching. A throw-in was had, a cross with pace followed and up popped No 7 (Lee Gale) to head home and regain parity. Cheadle Town looked gutted, it was a case of the great footballing mistake, never throw away a lead so quickly and so easily - a lesson to be adhered to or six of the best from the footballing headmaster methinks.
From here the IOM outfit turned a screw with numerous balls peppering the Town zone of peril. The hosts displayed stout resilience and even had a break of their own ending in a punt that was only millimetres wide of the goal. The visitors also came close when a break culminated in a lob from Davies that needed a goal line clearance and then the same player put his cranium on a choice cross with the net there to be bulged. The contact was true but the direction of the propelled sphere off-line and over - surely another goal wasn't far away.
With very few minutes of the first half remaining the game became a ramshackle and whistle-infected affair with too many stray balls hindering the flow and the sable clad conductor getting a little too 'peep' happy and blowing his oral device with untamed abandon. Just prior to the break a 50/50 ball saw two players collide in their earnest eagerness to get matters under control. An Isle of Man player writhed and earned a free-kick. The ball was played low, a shot went wide, the half was done and all was fair in this love and war battle.
I stayed put for the break and soaked in the bracing air and nattered about what had been and what shall be. I have a new tattoo planned, a picture of Albert Tatlock on my right testicle and a picture of Ena Sharples on the other - minimal detail is needed as my aging ball bag can provide the ideal wrinkle effect. Gareth also revealed he is having a tattoo too - apparently it is a list of Cheadle Heath Nomad players he has seen naked - by all accounts it is a long list - I remain disgusted. His good lady is doing the ink work using nothing more than a felt-tip and a one-pronged fork - oh the art of DIY hey.
Half two and early action saw Davin for Cheadle have two minor chances that he failed to bury and, in truth, there was bugger all else to report on in a game that had become a midfield mush and lacking spark and spunk. Eventually a few balls forth held a snippet of promise with one such advance leading to an away player getting tumbled in the box and a tad unlucky not to get a penalty. Cheadle though were the better side now and were exhibiting a desire greater than that shown when Neville Southall was left alone in a lard factory. As the tide pressed No 7 (Christian Soda) for The Town erupted and surged. The end line was reached, a rapier cross was delivered and there to tap home was Usher who gave his side a well deserved lead.
Questions were now to be asked of the travelling team. Lots of huff, puff and a few things duff followed with real defining chances a very scarce commodity. Town had a free-kick that No 3 (Jack McConnell) posted. The ball was flicked on, a moment of excitement seemed imminent but the keeper advanced and held with little fuss. The opposing force still tried to get back into the mix, a sweet through ball saw Davies gallop and nearly make killer contact but the home stickman came forth and did enough to muffle the potential. Like a constipated goose trying to give birth to a golden egg, the IOM pack strained mighty hard but produced little except a few moments of anguish.
The sands of soccerised time tumbled away, nothing to force pen to paper arose until the very last when a free-kick for the Isle of Man eventually fell to the feet of No 5 (Samuel Baines). A low shot was sent towards goal, all players stood still and the bated breath of the visiting fans awaited victorious release - if only the ball had stayed on target!
Game done, Man of the Match for me goes to No 10 (Ryan Usher) of Cheadle Town who worked like a pit-pony on steroids and was never afraid to bust a bollock, get stuck in the mix and perspire both off and on the ball. Keep it up fella - I am sure further rewards will come thy way.
I buggered off home looking at a swift walk, my good lady was waiting for me despite me advising her to get an early night - she is a gem and always deserves mention. I think she picked me up in case my scrotum became perished and I would have to delay my pending tattoo - then again, perhaps not.
FINAL THOUGHTS - Despite the Isle of Man picking up their tempo of late tonight they were given a lesson in desire and how to stoke the fires in the belly and use them to good affect. I am sure that this unit will be in the top six come the season ending whistle but a warning has been re-issued that if they treat their opponents to lightly they may come unstuck - this is a league not to be sniffed at. Cheadle Town are the seasons creepers - sneaking in on the blind side without being overtly flamboyant and noticeably progressive. Somehow, they have crawled into a position of promise and along the way have put in some good stints and turned over a few solid teams. How far can they go this time around is anyone's guess but there is a certain grit and downright stubbornness here not to be underestimated. A few more wins on the bounce and a couple of teams at the top will certainly be watching their arses - bring it on I say.
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