29th July 2025 - Cheadle Town 1 v 2 Ramsbottom United - After yesterday’s 4 hour pootle and 24.5 mile bike ride my arse was a little tender and the Achilles Tendons were twanging. This bastard carcass is just a bag of twinges, twangs and twattery - growing old is, a ruddy trial. I beetled to and from work in weather 'dubious', caught up with a superfluity of tasks and when home, finalised a few wildlife ID's and stretched the muscles (all except one muscle that is due to the fact it needs a little more persuasive attention these days). Tea was in keeping with my new dietary requirements, I watched a bit of Steptoe and Son (ooh what a nasty old bleeder) and was dropped off at the ground by my good lady. I arrived just prior to kick-off and took myself to the far side of the ground in a somewhat anti-social manner. The skies were untrustworthy so I had my brolly, this was the 3rd match of the new campaign (one being a friendly) and my second match report. The aim, to keep things as a mixed bag, to help parade a few teams and the Non-League wonder and of course, to see as many goals as possible during the quest to see 60 to 80 matches during the campaign. Some folks will do more, some will do less, just enjoy it and appreciate.
Prior to the game, I examined the vegetation near where I stood and noted the Hoverfly (Volucella inanis) feeding on Common Ragwort, a Common Nettle Bug (Liocoris tripustulatus) on its host plant and a Pale Straw Pearl Moth (Udea lutealis) flitter in the vegetation. Wood Avens; White Clover; Ribwort Plantain; Creeping Buttercup; Bramble agg; Greater Plantain and Daisy were spied in flower and I also saw 10 * Swift; 1 * Lesser Black Backed Gull; 2 * Wood Pigeon and 3 * Ring Necked Parakeet. I will record these things, in this concrete shitheap of a world we have to get the natural realm noted, helped and appreciated. Take off those blinkers folks.
The game started with the usual early season enthusiasm, just you lot wait til the icy tendrils of Jackie Frost are tugging at your nethers. The Town were quick out of the traps with several cutting passes culminating in a corner kick. The ball was posted high, a header came followed by a hopeful handball shout and the sphere going behind for another hoof in from the opposite side. A header connected with the cross but the attempt on goal fell just wide. This was a bright start with a good tempo made as Cheadle came on once again. A cross was borne, the initial header missed but No 7 (Sheriff Njie) was sharp, duly retrieved and placed the globe for No 4 (Benjamin Lowe) to place home.
The touch paper was now fully aflame, the onus was on the Ram Lads to force the issue. This they did with a sugar-coated ball played across to the industrious No 7 (Harvey Hayhurst) who moved in and curled a shot that just lacked enough swerve to trouble the strike zone. Rammy continued to work well with another thrust leading to a throw that was flicked on to No 8 (Richard Baker) who raised the shank, swung and sent the ball... way over the bar - it should have at least been on target!
The tide seemed to be flowing one way when a loose ball was there to be had. No 6 (George Lewis) for Cheadle charged in, raised the leg and failed to lower it in time and duly clobbered the guest No 2 (Oscar Radcliffe). The result - go and have a bath dear offender. This really was a changing moment and from here the game took on the scenario of one team with backs to the wall, the other desirous of the 3 point plunder.
A smattering of spice was now apparent, the visiting team were asking all the questions. Hayhurst took a free kick that was a turf tickler that went around the outside of the upright. The same player was soon hurtling down the flank like a pursued shoplifter with his trousers full of Curly Wurlies. A choice pass found Radcliffe who sent forth a cross that was begging for a killer touch that just didn't arrive. Cheadle continued to work away with stubborn resistance, limiting the opposing ranks to a long ranger by their advancing No 3 (Lucas Braganca). The shot landed straight into the awaiting keepers arms.
Tempers were starting to fray, the black clad man in the middle did well to keep matters subdued. Ramsbottom kept on coming in waves, No 9 (Saul Henderson) for the hosts did well to clear a cross off the line as the blue pack pressed with rising passion. A flying header from No 5 (Luke Barlow) connected with an angled kick, the ball went off line, Cheadle were riding their luck for sure until they summoned a counter attack. Njie weaved a merry path and let fly. The No 1 (Bradley Rose) parried, the ball was hoofed off the line, this game was still very much in the air.
United's Baker led the next assault, a pass was threaded to Braganca who shot on the turn but couldn't summon any wallop and left the keeper with little in the way of mither. More progressions forth came from the travelling tribe, Cheadle Town, like the Viagra-laden erection of Larry 'Love Lob' Ponce, stood mighty firm, the half ended with the hosts still with their peckers in front - phew.
For the break I nibbled a bit of dark chocolate, it was as black as a raven's rear end. Whilst nibbling I pondered a group of soaring Swifts who screeched and circled beneath ash-grey pregnant clouds that really enhanced this summery eve. The masters of the sky have it sussed, free from the shackles of idiot ego, living a simplistic life and just trying to get by without trying to prove anything. By heck, to grow wings, take to the air and drop a few turds on the human mush.
After a chat with a couple of grand lads from darn Sale way, a swig of some ginger, the teams came out, and the floodlights came on, crikey are we that far into the year already?
The first 10 minutes of this period were hectic, I deemed them mighty important for the hosts as they had to stay resolute and begin to build. Njie had a punt that was too high but brought a glimmer of hope. Rammy were soon building up great impetus but just finding the final penetration elusive. No 11 (Jacob Holland-Wilkinson) was soon galloping down the line, the home keeper was quick off the mark to negate further peril and soon after Hayhurst put in a great pass to the aforementioned dasher who crossed to Baker whose shot was in danger of hitting one of the overhead hirundines. Poor indeed.
The bottoms of The Rams were smoking, the fuel being burnt was incandescent and we were soon witness to another expulsion of energy in the hope of a final product. Hayhurst again, shot deflected behind. Corner in, line cleared, Hayhurst returning the ball - 1 - 1 was now the score-line. The deflating groans from the home lads were audible, the joyous relief from the guest uproarious. The game had taken a turn, it was now all about who would grab the full 3 point prize - I know where my bets lay.
I was now joined by Mike who does the gate and takes the cash off all those coming to support the games. I was appalled to learn that Mike was using some of this money to feed his soap star transvestite addiction and he had recently squandered several hundred pounds on an Emily Bishop costume. I don't mind blokes dressing up as women, I myself once spent several years hanging around Bolton dressed up as Irene Handl, but robbing a fine club to fund ones needs is a bit much.
Anyway, back to the game, and Rammy were eager to further punish their opponents with No 9 (Luke Sephton) nipping in and firing a shot that was too close for comfort. The game was precariously balanced, Cheadle gained a minor foothold, the guests were just getting a trifle too eager to let fly. Suddenly though a cute lofted ball was played out wide, No 10 (Matthew Dudley) remained cool and composed and fired home - this was a real killer blow I felt, but still had hopes of my pre-match 2-2 prediction coming up trumps.
Like wounded dogs scampering amid a crossfire, Cheadle somehow survived more attacks and threatened to bite back. Sephton for Rammy buried the ball with a flick header but the offside rule came to the rescue and the under-stress curs lived to yap again. The battling continued, the hosts needed to opt for a 'shit or bust' tactic. A shot did come at the Rammy goal, it was a golden chance but went straight at the keeper. It turned out to be the last fling. Great hustle and bustle came, a few more shots at the Town's goal were had and eventually the referee said enough was enough.
Despite one team being down to 10 men for most of the game and being under the cosh, this was a fascinating affair that kept the neutral enthralled. Few questions were really answered during this one but Ramsbottom United, I think, are up there with the favourites for this league and, Cheadle Town will be not far off making the grade. Man of the Match tonight was a toss-up between a few players with note made of Cheadle's No 5 (Liam Delaney) who really put in a choice shift. The pick though goes to Ramsbottom United’s No 7 (Harvey Hayhurst) for tireless industry, off the ball awareness, many a fine run and of course, the goal. I went home quite fagged but happy I had made the effort to turn out.
FINAL THOUGHTS - So, two teams finely matched and involved in a game knocked off balance by an early sending off. As I pondered what transpired I came to the conclusion that as the season develops Cheadle Town will be as niggardly as ever with net-bursting opportunities for the opposition kept to a minimum. I reckon they will remain a serious toughened nut to crack. They are a disciplined team, have many ‘long in the tooth’ players who know their way around the non-league realm and this will certainly put them in good stead during the following months. I think anything less than a play-off place will be a disappointment. As for Ramsbottom United, along with Irlam FC, Padiham and Wythenshawe, I think this lot are up there for automatic promotion. I have them down as favourites but one never knows. Tonight I was impressed by the pace of the passing, the communication levels and the ‘never-say die’ belief. There is a long way to go of course but 6 points from 2 games are bagged, we shall see what the next few weeks brings. To add, on my way home I saw Man/Woman Mike selling a few signed photo's of Albert Twatlock in the hope of raising enough dosh to buy a Bet Lynch Pleasure Bra - now that's more like it - ooh Mrs Walker, me nipples!
