THE LEGENDS

26th December 2021 - Wythenshawe Amateurs 3 v 0 Wythenshawe Town - A Boxing Day game and this one designed with good will and fine generosity as two teams of Legends graced the verdant turf in the hope of raising a good wealth of conkers for Paces, a specialist centre, charity and school for children and adults with cerebral palsy and motor disorders - how ruddy nice is that?  The charity is based in South Yorkshire but does its outstanding work all across the country - I suggest all should take note and at least give them a follow on Twitter (@wearepaces) and share the word - every little helps tha' knows.  If you can make a small donation, then wham, bam and have a dollop of appreciative jam - it is mighty sweet to be kind don't ya know.

And so, after a festive day that involved a birding walk with a few fungi thrown in, a quiz with my fine lasses, the usual excellent fare cooked by my good lady and some escapist TV (a ghost story, Morecambe and Wise and Doctor in Love) we arose next morn slightly fagged but in the mood to shake off the slack.  Tidying, a clean, a few exercises and a nibble and then sorting the intro to this match report, arses were shifted and out we went to Hollyhedge Park to be greeted by some fine faces and a devilish nip in the air that was determined to wither my wotsits (and believe me they don't need much help these days).

Despite getting a quill and ink for Christmas I thought it best to use just pen and paper for my notes today, one doesn't want to seem pompous as one scribes the script of what transpired on the awaiting turf.  My mate STP Stu has no fear of exhibiting puffed-up grandiosity and today was attired in a royal cape, a pair of crushed velvet plus fours, some Harris Tweed socks and a pair of crocodile skin winkle pickers, the monocle was a mere trifle to accentuate the countenance. For some reason he was only speaking in Latin too - my response to his ramblings was terse  - 'magnus morus ridiculus' - one has to be honest at all times.

NB. Due to having no teamsheets and a DIY scribble of names from one team this report may be a little sketchy - I refuse to apologise and shall make up names at my leisure..

And so, after wags of the mandible and some victuals the chosen spot of viewing for myself, STP Stu, Andy Gray and my lasses was taken and this my dear readers is how the game unfolded.

The spheroid sac was hoofed, the start was fairly well balanced with The Town having a couple of early punts, but posing no threat to the mittman due to the poor accuracy levels. The Ammie Army eventually had a surge, No 11 (Edwin Satsuma) produced some hardy battling, gained the ball from his grafting and laid off a pass to No 8 (Clovis Chestnut) who eyed goal, swung the shank and... found the far end of the car park with his effort.

It seemed as though it might be one of those days when a blind homosexual had more chance of finding  a midget's member than any of these two teams had of finding the back of the net.  Soon after though I stood corrected as an Ammie free-kick was earned and taken and the ball forced a defensive attempt at a clearance which ended up as an own goal - well, I suppose they all count.  

The Town looked now to respond, No 10 (Mee Mee McGoo) exposed good strength behind the admirable belly and won a free-kick for his troubles.  The ball was knocked on, several shots came but numerous carcasses were lunged and the ball was kept from hassling the keeper, by heck some of these blokes are going to be aching tomorrow.

For a period the Ammies applied rising pressure with a few shots attempted but nothing in the way of threat arose.  Town's No 8 (Marfleet Muldoon) helped keep things as they were with some measured control and beefy work, the man was certainly burning off the Turkey.  In fact, it was the visiting team who had the next push with No 2 (Snapper O' Crapper) weaving out wide, cutting in and having a pop that wasn't too far off the mark. Soon after a Ammies break, the guests came again, McGoo held the ball up, had a little weave, laid the ball off for his colleague to sweetly strike.  The man between the sticks however was up to the task and saved with relative ease.

The Ammies were provoked into a swift response.  Satsuma dashed onto a neat thru-ball, a dink over the keeper was cheeky but did the trick, 2 - 0 it was with more shots following but failing to match the precision of this net rippling effort.

Some lovely football followed with the WA No 16 (Bilbo Boggins) driving down the line like a reindeer chasing a dangling scrotum (they are rather fond of them don't ya know).  The cross was perfect, Chestnut applied a firm header but once more the mittman did his bit and contributed a quite choice save.  The half ended with decent action at either end, once again the Ammies had the best chance with a two pass move denied by the ever-ready keeper - this had been a decent spectacle to say the least.

We stayed put for the break and were overjoyed when my missus and young un' brought myself, Andy and Stu some warm beverages - how kind.  We duly swilled, chatted nonsense and tried to comfort Mr Gray who was still fretting about the bald dwarf he had recently run over during his haste to get to the game.  I simply explained that the local circus had a renowned dwarf breeding programme and the short arsed shit will easily be replaced.  Mr Gray seemed relieved, wiped away an unnecessary tear and got back to watching the game.

Half two and many changes had been made throwing the accuracy of this report into wonderful chaos.  Town now looked hungrier but the Ammies were the better organised unit.  After much hustle and bustle it was the home team who had the first crack at goal, this time via a free-kick that was struck firmly but again halted from any net penetration by the agile No 1 (Bruno DaBung).  To be honest though, the visiting team were digging in well now and really working up a lather to try and get a goal back.  Several sorties came, no breakthrough was had, one goal now could really put the vicar amongst the choirboys.

More attempts to gather triumph came, the closest was when the Ammies keeper went walk-about and lost the ball leaving his meshed orifice gaping (I am just glad the aforementioned vicar wasn't lurking).  which went unmolested.  Seconds later though No 19 (Benny Mugwump) gained ownership of the globe, had a crack with the scrambling defender failing to clear off the line - 3 - 0 it was - game done.

From here a few tasty tackles clobbered some aging flesh, a couple of free-kicks were immediately consigned to the memory banks labelled 'wank' and many jaded legs, puffed out arses and wheezing lungs took us to the final whistle.  No 4 (Kenny Clitoris) for the Town had a couple of efforts that lacked a smattering of welly and luck and at the last a one on one situation should have full-stopped matters with a goal, but the end effort was shy of the mark.

We were done, the Men of the Match were all who had taken part for such a deserved cause, and a big round of applause must good to the officials, the backroom staff and all who turned up to support the effort.  Boxing Day for many, is about laying idle or chasing pseudo-bargains, this is the better option and here's to the next one, perhaps with a report that actually contains some real names... then again!

FINAL THOUGHT - Same again next year please!

PADDY POWER

17th December 2021 - Irlam FC 0 v 1 Padiham FC - Due to an incessant spillage of soul destroying shittery, unforeseen circumstances and having a busy personal life, my good lady and I have been rather neglectful in our attendances at the fine old ground of Irlam FC - a club run by fine welcoming folk, a ground it is always a pleasure to visit and where, more often than not, some good footballing action is witnessed.  After both putting in our usual stints at work and sorting out the various necessities of daily living we headed out to Silver Street with a chill pervading the night air and the roads not as busy as usual due to a certain virus-induced panic - beware, beware - 'tis Giant Ants and Invaders from Mars next folks, this is 21st Century suffering, most of which is self-inflicted - what a ruddy mess.  Anyway, Non-League Football is pure escapism and escape we shall with 90 minutes of DIY hoofing.  After a catch up with a few heart-warming faces, a tray of gut filling chips and a cup of thermally aiding cha this my dear readers, is what went on.

The globe of inflated air was first given a kick up the valves on the stroke of 7.45pm with both colour-clad units chasing the darn thing this way and that.  The first squadron to garner any form of success from the rolling reprobate were the visitors with a free-kick eventually earned after being on the wrong end on a clumsy tackle. The globe was posted, a nut rose from the mist and helped it on, No 4 (Tom Walker) keenly swung a shank but in his zeal put the ball way over the horizontal.  Irlam responded to this minor morsel of panic by retaining possession and passing with something close to purpose. Two corners were the meagre results, the first being utterly wasted, the second leading to a shot by No 2 (Morgan Kinsella) that was efficiently blocked.

As the mist settled a shot came from a Padiham player who went unidentified (visibility was rather troublesome at this juncture).  The effort wasn't far off and led to an immediate counter that saw the blue No 10 (John Main) gallop, place a pass to his colleague who rounded the keeper but, from a sharpened angle, could only fire and see the No 1 (Matthew Hamnett) recovered and there to push the ball behind for an angled kick.  The corner produced bugger all before we entered a period of sustained midfield battling.  A penalty shout from the Irlam pack was ignored and a few surges by the guests led to aggravating zilch but the first goal didn't seem to be that far away. As Padiham started to just gain the greater hold on matters an advancement came and a cross into the box gave rise to some semi-concerns.  An Irlam defender nutted away, the ball fell at the tootsies of Paddy's No 9 (Joel Brownhill) who wasted no time in firing home - 0 - 1 it was, one could almost feel a shock was on the cards.

Padiham now exuded greater belief and began to take charge of matters.  Their No 7 (Marcus Perry), an ex-Silver Street boy, went on a dazzling surge and needed tumbling at the last to avoid further penetration. Soon after the same player was the marauder once more as his blazing feet carried him forth, this time with a shot coming but lacking direction and so allowing the keeper to duly save.  No 8 (David Sherlock) had a follow-up but once again the mitter was there to defy a molestation of his onion bag (and who can blame him, it can be a painful experience).

To the half time break it was seen that Irlam were lacking in creativity and just out of sync.  A shot did come from range via No 7 (Millen Brown) with the ball nudged on by No 9 (Ethan Beckford) that nearly resulted in a lucky leveller - alas it was not to be and half-time it was.

For the break my good lady called her mum to get her shopping list for the morrow (she is 92 and someone has to keep up her weekly supplies of rum, fags, caviar and ecstasy tablets) whilst I chatted to the ever amiable Cheadle Heath Nomads manager Jake Davies.  For all trivia fans I can now add that Jake's attempt at keeping living terrapins in his jacksie for a 6 month period ended in failure after one of the said shelled bastards choked on a chip-laden turd - Jake though showed true grit and said another attempt is on the cards - ooh me carapace.

And back to the game... 

...Padiham flew from the traps and displayed an attitude that reeked of 'being up for it'.  Irlam strove to get back into the contest but for all their territorial profit Padiham stood firm and remained the impenetrable force.  Padiham seemed happy to play at their own pace and soak up matters before striving to pounce.  It was a good tactic against a team who were too predictable and lacking in ideas.  The Silver Street army ploughed on with earnest endeavour but each and every time promise rose, it was sent packing by some stout defensive work.  Padiham's Brownhill came close with a punt that just wouldn't stay on target but the game fell into the realms of all bluster with no boom.  

The last 15 came leaving me with little to scribble.  This was a 45 minute session for the midfield connoisseur with some serious mid-pitch intensity had.  Only a couple of half chances came before the final whistle peeped. Irlam had a free-kick that was delivered in a tempting way so as to force several incoming bods to lunge with desperation - the killer touch however was not made.  A substitute for Padiham (darn the mist) had the last dig of the game but couldn't negotiate the keeper and that, as it transpired, was that.  For Man of the Match I opted for Padiham's No 4 (Tom Walker) who stuck to his guns, looked utterly buggered at some stages yet kept on battling and remained solid and who was, a cornerstone to the away teams 3 point win.

Farewells were had and a short chat was enjoyed with that fine friendly Irlam chap Matty Kay - always a joy.  We plan to be back on the touchline next Tuesday - here's to better things for the Blues.

FINAL THOUGHTS - Padiham were desperate for points and tonight this was highly evident as well as a great disciplined and battling effort from all areas that made life mighty difficult for the home squad.  Given the display witnessed I can only envisage the guests surviving the drop and building from here to move up the table and put the wind up a few higher placed teams.   Here's hoping!  Irlam, as proven by the recent results, are on a rough roll but, over the years I have learned to never underestimate this lot and I am sure things will be rectified mighty soon.  The team are just lacking one or two ingredients, the most obvious one being the options available when in an advanced position.  Work off the ball and an injection of pace may help this, it seems only minor tweaks are needed to get things back on track. Again, my hopes are sincere.

So the season rolls on and here we have two teams hoping to gain some semblance of consistency - as said, I shall return to Silver Street next week and as a friend who lives near Padiham has requested a visit I shall be up their end mighty soon - get the chip pan on peeps.

A final mention must go to the two young chaps who were working the food hatch tonight - it is good to see young 'erberts doing their bit and being polite and welcoming in the process - ruddy excellent methinks.

NOMADS NOBBED

11th December 2021 - Cheadle Heath Nomads 1 v 4 Wythenshawe Amateurs - Football attendance as been a struggle of late due to fungal duties, a trip to Scotland and the weather.  Thankfully I am getting back in the groove and ready to roll out a few observations on several games here and there.  Today I rose with a prickly pecker as I suspect there may be a kidney stone on the brink of hitting the porcelain.  I have passed many of these gits and cracked many a karsi, they are pain-inducing little bastards that set prostatitis off and make one's John Thomas feel rather sorry for itself.  The morn was spent sorting wildlife pictures, doing the dishes and contemplating the latest book I am reading regarding Oscar Wilde - something else that isn't good for one's lower parts I can tell ya.  Eventually the posterior was put into gear and some semblance of movement was had - it was all a bit sketchy with the back twanging like an elastic twat - ooh crumbs.

Stretching and doofing done my good lady dropped me at the ground before pootling off to her mum's. I was soon in position alongside my good mate STP Stu, with a brew in the gut helping keep afloat a couple of sausage rolls that certainly kept any chill at bay.  The game began in vile murk and finished in the same way - in between one team shone, the other stuttered and all and sundry got a soaking.

The start was brisk with the pace a little too much for the Nomadic ranks who seemed to be struggling to get up to speed.  Wythenshawe settled in, a ball soon came that found No 9 (Saul Henderson).  The lofty player gathered and placed a pinpoint pass to No 11 (William Shawcross) who took his time, picked a spot and placed the ball in the awaiting net.  No sooner had the home ranks recovered than the Whammies were at it again, this time with Henderson the apical component but firing straight at the mitter.

The hosts were just out of sync, they failed to get much further than the middle of the park which contributed to a short period of midfield mither.  With just over 10 minutes on the clock a quick Wythy thru-ball saw Henderson collect in way too much space.  The player in possession kept his head and fired home with composure to double the lead - now, then, now then, there was a shock on the cards and a real nasty shock at that.

It seemed as though the home team were just lacking any initial zip and creativity when a ball opened up the Wythenshawe defence, a shot came and was saved by the guest keeper with the follow-up slotted home by the awaiting No 7 (Charlie Mulgrew).  Now if ever a moment was destined to turn the tide this was it.  Alas the comeback was not to be as the away side pushed on, won a couple of corners and then put together a simply divine move of liquid fluidity with several short passes disembowelling the Nomadic rear and No 7 (Kieran Curtis) slipping in to deliver the final coup de grace - a work of artistry worthy of the end result.

From here to the break another goal was lacking although Curtis for Wythy went on a strong surge but just overcooked his final touch and then Mulgrew for Cheadle burst along the flanks and delivered a choice ball that was left unmolested at the most crucial moment. Cheadle's No 10 (Kyle Foley) should have cut the deficit when he was threaded through and had only the keeper to beat but fired right at the awaiting mesh protector and then No 4 (Charles Duke) at the other end had an honest punt that just wouldn't drop below the horizontal.  Henderson had one more shot before the break, with the home No 1 (Mason Davies) doing well to get down quick and turn the ball behind for a corner which bore no fruit.

We stayed put for the break, a soaking for a cup of cha was not an option so we whiled away the time chatting bollocks and Mark Torbitts (Cheadle Photographer and all round doofer) hashish addiction and astounding knowledge of 1970's top shelf porn.  He has applied to go on Mastermind answering question on the 1974 Golden Shower Rodox Special featuring Bladder O' Rourke and Splasher Gnasher Glenda - I think he may do rather well.

The start to the second period was scrapyard battling with little in the way of adhesion on show.  A Wythy corner came and No 5 (Soloman Wickstead) rose at the back post and buried with his bonce - the goal was disallowed though as the player was overdoing his Chris Bonnington impression and climbing with unruly abandon.  The travelling team would not be denied though and soon after a shot was blazed from a congested pack, the keeper saved but the loose ball was stroked home by Shawcross and it looked as though the 3 point end prize was assured.

A long battle ahead was now facing the trailing unit but no matter how hard they tried they failed to ruffle a WA side that was very much in control and highly disciplined at the back. The closest we came to another goal was when Henderson for the guests surged and let fly, forcing the keeper to save and concede a corner.  The kick from the angle came, this time the gloved one missed it and the ball needed a last minute hoofing off the line.  The Nomads forced a few corners the other way but the deliveries were nothing short of abysmal.  Like the weather, the game collapsed into a deflating mess and after a few semi-assaults and some wayward passing matters were duly called to a halt.  A Man of the Match was chosen and No 6 (Arthur Okonkwo) was the choice due to a highly regimented, steady and reliable session at the back and making sure, for the hosts, there was little in the way of space and time.

Under heavy skies we all pootled home, anyone claiming to have predicted this scoreline was certainly in league with the devil, they won't be laughing when their balls turn black.

FINAL THOUGHT - I name this one an upset, perhaps not a world changing event but still a bit of a shocker for those who have seen the Nomads have a good season so far.  Wythenshawe Amateurs came and put in the best performance I have seen from them this year and despite reservations about them lasting the course, I was put in my place and and am happy to stand corrected.  From defence, through the middle ranks to the attackers this was a well worked stint laden with good effort and effective off the ball labour.  If they carry on putting in work-rates like this then the play-offs will be a certainty.  The Nomads, coming into this game, promised so much more but with a couple of players missing, the crappy conditions and a tough 'up for it team' to beat, today was just never going to be.  I expected more and despite this turning over I don't think the squad should be too unhappy with their campaign so far.  Now however is the time to dig into the trenches, call upon great resolve and get a good run going up to and after the Turkey-stuffing period.  Get the wishbones ready, think about what you want and tug like buggery.  Take note - when I say 'tug like buggery' I am sure the aforementioned Mr Torbitt will presume I mean something sexual - this is not my intention however, if the need is great, then why not!