2nd August 2022 - Cheadle Heath Nomads 1 v 1 Ashville FC - A visit to my local club and the only game I have pencilled in this opening month. Father Time has dictated the terms, the calendar is full with a diverse mix that will see me pinging hither and tither and getting my gonads in knots. I am a great believer in pissing on the static and not going through the expected motions, I am also a great believer in putting something back, hence these scribblings. I shall pick and choose reports this season again though and not overdose anyone on the same team assessments - one has to keep things as fresh as a babbies talcum powered chuff.
So, after a day that saw me get an absolute drenching on the way to work (it were ruddy lovely), a cycle home, quick tea and change, I arrived at the ground to catch up with a few familiar faces and take up the usual position with my good mate STP Stu. The air was as damp as a vicar's brow during a Miss Topless Teacake Competition and the feeling of further precipitation was never far away. Talk was of music, the worldly mess and forthcoming matches that we may attend or miss due to being busy bastards. Eventually we had only one game on our minds as the two teams for tonight's contest strode out onto the pitch. Predictions were made - Stu was already 1-0 up on me this season and so I was looking to level matters with an educated, deeply thought out forecast - how matters transpired will be revealed come the end of this report. John D, Gareth and Sandra put in their predictions too, oh what fools we are!
The globe began to roll and the first battalion to raise a thrill were the hosts after No 7 (Daniel Byrnes) was unceremoniously tumbled. The free-kick was shite and the fortuitous corner equally poor. No 11 (Isidro Cata) was a bright spark during the drab opening throes and went on a strong run with a cross delivered that just lacked the sheen of accuracy. Ashville were not at the races at all, they were playing a long ball over the top style that was becoming increasingly obvious to the resident rear ranks. The guests eventually won a corner that was delivered with good pace but the home defence survived and the scoresheet remained as bare as the bonce of Telly Savalas.
The game continued, it was an affair as dull as the memoirs of Clement Freud (well, except for that chapter where he had a tumble with his much abused Bassett Hound - ooh the grubby bastard). The Nomads did raise the levels of excitement with a penalty shout but the referee was having none of it and all peckers and nipples of hope soon became flaccid again.
The Nomads were the busier side and looked to open the scoring account but with a bilge free-kick by their No 10 (Ryan Shenton) and a wild shot closer to the local chip shop than the goal by Cata, it looked a darn near certainty that the onion bag would remain unmolested. Prior to the break a shot on goal did come. No 3 (Kieran Alley) for the hosts had a chance to bulge meshing but his weak side foot shot went straight at the keeper who easily gathered. This shot on goal though was too much for some. A guy near me needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation after the thrill overworked his ticker and an elderly bloke needed to be led away and have his sporting erection drained due to this zenith of footballing action. Two corners followed, fuck all was the result, it seemed as though that attempt on goal was indeed the pinnacle of a truly bilge first 45.
For the break several folk tried to form a suicide pact so as to avoid watching the second half. Local prosthetic limb retailer John D actually plucked one of his eyes out and Space Cake enthusiast Sean EB decided to watch the following period through one eye so as to half the pain.
The teams came back out (boo, hiss), half two began (pass me the Mogadon) and this is what transpired.
A quick start was had, Nomads looked frisky (the half time sex talk by Chairman Gloria Gibbons had done the trick - 'play or be penetrated lads, you know the script'). After much hustle a sweet ball was played to Shenton who found space at the angle, picked his spot and sent the ball home with consummate ease - it was a well taken goal and just what the game needed. Ashville were now the Zombies of Reaction, they came on, a sizzling cross was just dealt with before No 14 (Liam Davies) went on a fantastic run only to be bungled over on the edge of the box. No 8 (Joshua Maldon) took the free-kick, the outcome was a mere few millimetres off target.
The Nomads were soon racing forth again, a low ball in was poked away, No 8 (Jordan Milne) arrived and sent forth an arse-wrecking howitzer, thankfully all rear ends stayed clear of the shot which was just deflected wide of the upright. The corner that came was another poor delivery, work it seems, is needed on these angled hoofings.
Ashville hustled, a cross saw No 2 (Craig Coates) for the hosts chest behind with the corner, once again, producing bugger all. The game had a slight trip back to the doldrums, little in the way of tit-tingling action arose as we entered the final 15 minutes. The guests eventually began to work up a serious lather. No 10 (Ben Greenop) had a punt deflected wide. The ensuing angled kick saw the Cheadle chaps hang on by the skin of the scrotum before another foray forth saw the hosting defence not pay full attention to the globe, with Ashville's Greenop allowed to pop up and bury the equaliser.
The closing stages were now hectic but no team could grab the bull by the balls and squeeze out any seeds of success. A few wayward shots came but the full time whistle was blown and 1-1 seemed a fair result. As for Man of the Match, I would opt for The No 3 (Kieran Alley) of Cheadle Heath Nomads who put in a fair stint, held his position well and in truth, should have bagged a goal.
I pootled off homeward after the game, unimpressed by the night's events, I wasn't alone but thought John D's ravings about executing the entire Nomad's Board a trifle harsh. Hey ho, the slump in sales of plastic legs is enough to make anyone feel tetchy.
FINAL THOUGHTS - For me, what we saw tonight were two teams not fully functioning, snuffing each other out and in a league of unpredictability and inconsistency. Ashville FC seemed off the pace at first, not set up for a glut of goals and just too reliant on a breakaway goal. Towards the latter stages, when their backs were against the wall, they were far more effective and bagged a strike, I can't help thinking if the same style would have been used for the full 90 minutes the 3 point prize would have been theirs. Cheadle Heath Nomads began the season with high hopes and already, with 2 matches played, 4 points have been dropped at home. I didn't attend the first game but reports were far from glowing, tonight I was left very much deflated. I am sure things will come good but a few more early upsets and the season could be over before it gets started. I am not due to be back at this ground until September, by then who knows what will be the state of play with these teams, the answers are blowin' in the wind, so sayeth Frederick Flatulence and the Rectal Rasping Crew.
NB - no one predicted tonight's score, in fact come the end no one gave a toss, it was that kind of night.
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