BLUE BLUES

8th April 2019 - Maine Road 1 v 2 Barnton FC - A localish ground neglected due to me not having a doppelganger, not really grasping the intricacies of time travel and the ruddy Romans deciding that 24 hours in a day was enough.  I am never still, would like to be everywhere but alas cannot so squeeze in what I can, when I can.  After 4 days down Bristol and then getting carried away with a wildlife wander today I was a trifle 'behind schedule' but it was a pleasure to put all on hold and catch up with a home team who always provide good entertainment.  This was a close contest on paper, one that would be a challenge to try and predict the result of although I did go for a home win (the ruddy fool that I am).  I was joined tonight by the hopping John D who kindly gave me 4 detective novels to read (very generous).  I like a good book, I have always read since I was a nipper - from 'Confessions of a Taxi Driver' to 'From Russia With Love', from Jayne Eyre to Count Dracula, from the unhinging tales of Edgar Allen Poe to the literary majesty of Somerset Maugham - oh aye, the pen is indeed mightier than the sword.  Talking of pens, my tipped textual creator was ready to spill its blue blood across the parchment of promise and as the teams came out the almost heiroglyphic scribbles I daubed were eventually translated as thus:-

The sprightlier start was made by the boys in blue with good movement and possession winning a few early sniffs at goal that unfortunately led to nowt.  Barnton started to slowly come to the boil and seemed intent on playing the breakaway game whilst their opponents did most of the pressing.  A ball eventually came over the top that saw a home defender dawdle and get robbed.  The visiting No 7 (Ryan Malone) used good shoulder strength and irrepressible persistence to pilfer the globe, run towards the angle and duly slot the ball tidily under the sprawling keeper.  This was a shock start and The Road now reacted with a sweeping move that saw a quite excellent cross get thumped on the volley by No 10 (Connor Hughes) - it was a firm connection without direction.  The ball however deflected off a defending bod, created a moment of panic but somehow landed at the goalkeeper's feet - he seemed mighty relieved to receive it.  The Road now came again, No 9 (Daniel Burgess) weaved a merry path into the corner, the ball was knocked in, stroked outwards into the path of the No 4 (Finn Thompson) who was hell-bent on a Roy of the Rovers moment - alas the night sky was fractured rather than the netting busted.  As the home 'erberts pushed Barnton repaid in kind with another searching ball that saw a striker released and tumbled in the box.  The air was rent with pleas for a penalty, the referee held his nerve and waved play on - I think he got it right!  

As time moved on the apex of The Road's attacking end was gradually being sharpened with No 8 (Jamie Roe) the next to come close via a header from a flashing cross - the ball wasn't that far off the mark.  Malone for Barnton counterbalanced this move with a charge of his own that indicated great desire.   Things looked promising with only one defender to beat but the home No 6 (Neil Chappell) stood his ground and defended like an immovable Trojan.  A free-kick for the hosts was curled forth by Hughes next, right idea sir but too much bend.  Barnton broke back, a perfect ball was mimicked by a perfect run with No 9 (Jordan Cobley) nipping in and picking his spot.  The globe left the foot, went by the keeper and alas, outside of the far stick.  Into the final minutes and the resident unit went down to 10 men after their frisky Burgess seemingly needed a trip to the shithouse.  Barnton tried to capitalise on this bowel break but could only manage a shot way over the bar before the incredible shitting machine (allegedly) returned to the fray (I hope you have washed your hands sir).  No sooner had his duds been pulled up and he was on the pitch and feeding Hughes who made space, pulled the trigger and rattled the Heavens - it was the last chance of the half.

I stayed put for half-time and chatted with John D about his recent tootlings, latest books read and the recent run in he had with a blacked-up Bob Hope look-a-like.  John claimed the tiff was nothing political but blamed a dodgy pork chop he had had for lunch - fair do's mate and as long as we all move on without prejudice and with good hearts what is there to moan about?

Half-two started with the blue machine functioning at high tempo, Barnton broke as per, Malone wriggled in, a collegue received, the post was struck (I missed the name of the unfortunate player but he should have doubled the lead that's for sure).  A Road sub came, Burgess went off (that must be some mighty fine magazine he has stashed in the bogs), a scrapyard period followed.   Eventually Maine Road began to add pressure, their No 12 nearly smashed in the equaliser after some fine battling and then had another great effort that bent in with pace but was tipped over by a very alert keeper.  A corner followed, 3 shots came, 2 saved, 1 blocked and then another kick from the angle led to an effort blocked on the line - oh what madness this was, surely an equaliser was beckoning.  As the MR crew continued to make all the running Barnton remained happy to try and smash and grab which they duly did from a very poor corner.   The guests pounced down the wing with the ball going in, then out and falling to Malone who buried with cucumber coolness.  It was a swift and effective footballing move - the hosts were now up against it.

From here things were balanced for a while, Barnton had a free-kick that No 11 (Joshua Smith) hit from 25 yards and was unlucky to clatter the bar.  Again the visitors came, No 8 (Samuel Hougthon) banged from distance, the home No 1 (Conrad Bretton) watched the trajectory and made a first class save - what a great footballing moment.  Road returned with pace, one pass, two pass, Hughes was in, knocked forth a well placed shot - suddenly there was only one goal in it - it was a well taken goal, were there any more to come?  Into the home run we went, Maine Road looked to step up the pace, Barnton played some 'go slow' tactics and frustrated the hell out of the local players and followers.   Marching orders were given to the home No 7 (Owen Pollitt) for a second yellow, the finish was frantic to say the least but no matter how much was thrown at the Barnton pack they stood firm and saw this one out to the bitter end.  I contemplated the Man of the match choice and perhaps, a trifle controversially, opted for Maine Road's No 6 (Neil Chappell) who communicated, urged on his players and put in a very valuable shift that at times, made sure the goals conceded were kept down to only two.  You can see why Maine Road have turned a corner of late, a general for sure who tonight was unlucky to be on the losing side.

FINAL THOUGHT - Not a bad match at all this with two evenly matched sides that, on several different nights would come up with a different result each time.  It was touch and go throughout, many chances were had but the visitors stuck to their game plan and went back down the Road with the 3 point prize.   All both teams need do now is to see out the season and gain as many points as possible whilst working out the best possible formula to start the new campaign with.  For me, next time around, if any of these two packs want to be in the mix they have to keep the players they have now and work darn ruddy hard (as per).  I like my visits to Brantingham Road, one never knows which way the cookie will crumble but there are always goals and always thrills.  John D tells me a team has never gone through a season without a draw, Maine Road are on for that feat - interesting hey!   Barnton continue on their merry way and usually get one or two visits per season from me and the missus.  They are a funny side - eternally under-achieving and then throwing in the odd game that makes one think that they could really achieve their potential.   Tonight they earned the victory with cute-pre-planning and some red hot breakaway pace - all they need to add to the mix is that elusive ingredient ' consistency' - tis a rare species forever on the fluttering wing - go hunting chaps.

STREET HEAT

6th April 2019 - Street FC 3 v 1 Melksham Town - The time of year when we wander in earnest and try and keep pace with the comings and goings of the ever capricious natural world.  We were down Bristol for 4 days and due to spending an absolutely splendid morning at RSPB Ham Wall we decided the best location to get a footballing fix would be Street FC.  We have been to Street before, that time it was on an excursion to see a rare butterfly which was successful in many ways.  We also burned down the local YHA due to it holding a hippy convention and then went to Stone Henge and drew a willy on the said sacred slabs - and why not, my punk nerves do get a little tetchy at times.  So, arriving at the ground in good time, acquiring a teamsheet and some chips (thank you to the chip creator for his extra helping due to us having a lengthy wait) we parked our rear ends and took in the atmosphere.  The chips were bang on, the seats more comfortable than normal but the ruddy draught a real spiteful git that sent its tendrils up my trouser leg, around the conker-based crevices and back out down the other leg - my wife was wearing bicycle clips by the way, she is a lovely lady after all.  If wind was to be personified I am sure it would be bent double, adorned in trews with permanently open flies and sporting a pair of mitts with the longest fingers ever noted.  The icy breath, spiteful, aquiline nose and shifty, perverted eyes are a matter of course as well as the crooked bulge in the aforementioned kecks.  I resisted the urge to shiver, one has to show some sort of backbone when being accosted by the climactic perverts, and peeled the peepers to take in the following kick about.

The initial action came about after some unplanned defensive dawdling that allowed a gratis kick to the visiting ranks. The ball was boomed straight out of play - I hoped it wasn't going to be one of those days.  Street started to apply themselves with a ball deflected into the box that No 3 (Lewis Waldy) headed forth rather weakly.  A Melksham clearance was taken with great haste, No 9 (Gary Higden) was ahead of the rear pack and galloped forth with only the home No 1 (Liam Kingston) to beat.  The protector of the net blocked well for a corner that was ultimately wasted with Street having a rapid counter attack of their own.  A low cross was had, No 9 (Steve Murray) received, rotated and released but the shot lacked spite and the keeper easily gathered.  At the other end a corner was won, in and out it went, No 7 (Billy Gleed) was out wide, No 8 (Luke Ballinger) accepted the ball and placed a shot straight at the keeper - surely a goal was imminent! 

Street advanced after a Melks move dissolved.  Some superb link-up play outside the box was duly applauded, Murray was an integral part - passing and dragging players this way and that before a ball into the red alert zone was played.  No 10 (Harry Foster) found the ball at his feet, worked a sliver of space, released with adequate power and neatly found the inside of the far post, much to his comrades' delight.  From this icebreaker a dry period ensued as both teams strove for a firmer grip.  Melksham had done well to recover their senses, Street looked the more threatening side but were just kept at bay by some stout defending.  The next goal looked to be a critically decisive factor with Street having a thrust with Murray letting a shot go but again one that lacked true bite.  The hosts were now upping the ante, No 2 (Josh Bennett) had been waiting out wide for some time and when, he was eventually served, he delivered first time with Murray on the end of it but clattering the globe over the horizontal  - it was a sweet move deserved of a final flourish.  Murray had another crack soon after, again with too much uplift.  In return all that The Melksmen could offer was a free-kick from a rather acute angle that was clattered straight out of play. The closing minutes looked to be leading to the break with Street in command when suddenly the home 'erberts were caught.  A ball came from nowhere and found Ballinger who took it on his chest, whacked on the volley with sugar-sweet potency and bulged the net with supreme gusto.  It was a wonder strike, a fitting equaliser and a real kick in the cobblers for the, ahem...Cobblers.  Half-time followed soon after, the game was precariously balanced and left for we onlooking fans to ponder - ooh the thrill of it all.

We moved out into the sun for half-time, stretched the old boiled eggs (legs) and released some tension from the aching Brian Clough (chuff).  The wind was still being an utter bastard and chilled any worthwhile solar power that adorned our Brian Jacks (backs).  Talking of Brian Jacks, I once attanmpted to beat his Superstars feat of Parallel Bar Dips and ended up with a prolapsed rectum, arthritic elbows and a high pitched voice.  I did perm my hair beforehand and bleached it blonde - it didn't help whatsoever...and back to the match!

Street blazed from the blocks, No 11 (Craig Herrod) sent in a cross that was deflected away with Melksham bursting back on the break and only stopped by some stupendous tackling by the home No 4 (Ben Amghar).  Street built at once, the attack was quick, forthright and focused with a cross ball touched homeward by the right man, in the right place, at the right time, take a bow Mr Foster.  No sooner had the ball been placed back on the centre spot than Street were marauding again with the impressive Herrod a roaming menace, collecting, beating two men and shooting. The ball seemed to catch the flesh of a defending bod, went off at a different angle and somehow found the inside of the post - to be honest, the move deserved the end triumph.  At 3 - 1 up the resident pack were now playing some irresistible football and moving the ball around like a well-oiled kipper on the back of a sweating pig (it does happen you know).  Herrod had another dig that was deflected off-line and then he provided a ball for Murray to flick across the goal which was too firm for the incoming executioners.  

As Street continued to play some convincing possession football, the diluted Melksham team ran themselves ragged, kept themselves in this one and with a chance of nicking a goal back or maybe a prized point.  In fact the away team cultivated a chance not long after I had put these thoughts to paper with a shot hammered in, pinged out and then returned via No 11 (Jordan Croad) whose touch was slightly off the target zone.  The Melks were soon at it again, No 14 (Jack Baker) captured the globe high up the park, turned his marker inside out (ooh what a mess) and belted forth a solid strike that was equalled by a low save that pushed the ball on the post and back into the sprawling keepers grateful mitts.  The tide had turned, once again the guests flowed, a cute back flick, one touch and Ballinger boomed a blisterer that went inches over the bar.  We now entered the closing period, applause for the away teams efforts was worthy, all they needed was a clinical touch in the final third to put the cat amongst the pigeons.  Ballinger came on, played to Baker who rattled one away that was disappointingly off target - it was last chance saloon but Street had the final crack with No 12 (Oscar Latas) producing a great strike that was saved and put behind for the corner.  The ball came in from the angle, was dealt with, seconds later the game was done. The 3 points had gone the right way, Street's No 5 (Ross McErlain), before being substituted, was absolutely outstanding at the back and put his head on everything, stayed calm and was the quintessential pivot that any good team works around - a pleasure to witness.

FINAL THOUGHT - The title of today's piece was named after a song by The Vibrators frontman Knox.  Street generated good heat today and for me are a team very much better than what their league position suggests.  Some of the quick thinking football and general team awareness was top notch indeed and with a little extra luck up front a few more goals could have easily been added.  I thought Herrod was a particularly noteworthy player and he looked like a real swine to actually keep tabs on as he wandered here and there like a vagabond on acid.  Overall there were no weaknesses in the ranks and I reckon I'll be keeping an eye on this lot in future and hopefully catch them again sooner rather than later.  Melkhsam, I was informed, are a side in transition after a few players had left the fold and some young reserves had been thrown into the fray.  To be fair, taking this into consideration, I thought the lads did bloody well and put in a tremendous stint that holds much positive potential for the future.  The key is to now preserve squad consistency, keep the players totally unified and to maintain the belief they exhibited today.  The next time we are down Bristol I reckon me and the missus will do some wildlife hunting close to Melksham and then visit their ground - it would be rude not to and if there are any Youth Hostels and ancient relics nearby I am sure I could bring a box of Swan Vesta and a marker just for the extra thrill - hot-nob-tastic I say!

MILLER THRILLER

2nd April 2019 - New Mills FC 1 v 2 Sandbach United - Into the last month of the campaign, the time of the footballing year when many things will be decided.  Will your team win promotion?  Will the year end is disappointment?  Will Billy Bremner finally tell us if he has ginger pubes?  It is all there to be revealed, many questions will be answered, and Mr Bremner may be hailed a hero by all those with carrot fuzzed conkers.  My good lady and myself had spent our days at work, had a quick bite to eat before heading down the A6 to the not-too distant Church Lane Ground.  The last time I was here the local Man of the Cloth sold me a dodgy Excorcism Kit thus leading to my father being found in a demon-possessed state in the local Bingo Hall (Clickety Click - the Devil's testes), 6 summoned goblins took up up residence in my elderly neighbours rectum and a nearby crack opened up in the street where I live allowing Semenjus and his evil tadpole hordes to impregnate the local members of the WRVS.  I should have dropped off the dodgy box of tricks tonight but was sidetracked by a Monkey's Paw I had picked up.  I had made my initial wish, it was for a goal fest - if it doesn't come up I will wish for the referee to wake up with a 6 foot willy and for his whistle to eternally taste of shit - that will be some recompense.  So a brew had, a chat with a fine couple we meet here and there whose ruddy names have slipped my frazzled memory once more and then a meet-up with fellow punk git Dangerous Dave aka Dale aka The Mad Priest (he once cut my head off don't ya know).  Seats taken, brews downed, game on - forgive my wanderings, I always get a bit tired this late in the season.

Leather was thudded, plumes of breath were exhaled, touch line abuse was on the tip of the tongue ready to be spilled.  The commencement was as tight as Bertie Wooster after a raucous night down The Drones Club.  Both teams strove to pass and play, everything was set up for a fine night of football.  From the rear of the New Mill's ranks the keeper launched a long goal-kick that speared though the midfield melee and released No 11 (Remeece Brown).  The nifty player at the fore was onto the ball and wasted no time in cracking one off (ooh err), only to be denied by a solid bit of net-protecting via the guest No 1 (Matt Green).  A kick from the angle came, was knocked out and boomed back with interest by No 4 (Tom Russell).  The shot had anger, focus and impetus, alas it flashed over the horizontal instead of below it.  In return the Sandbach lads raced forth and a low, fiery cross was had, right across the face of goal it went - the merest touch was absent, it was a warning to The Millers to not get carried away.  

Both sides continued to play assertive football on the deck, any chances though were snuffed out by several moments of defensive quality.  The only real dig came through Brown who blazed from the angle but with too much elevation.  The next action soon arose, SB's No 9 (Kieran Garner-Knapper) ran like the wind, shrugged off a defensive mitherer but released a little too late and allowed the mittman to block the shot.  A few minutes passed and then a free-kick came the same way.  The ball was stung and entered the box on a low trajectory.  No 10 (Ryan Allcock) applied a very cute touch, the ball crept wide of the upright!  The Millers upped the ante, a free-kick and 2 corners brought promises but were all dealt with (just) with the latter gratis boot leading to a Sandbach break that saw No 11 (Harry Cain) provide an outstanding cross-field ball that just escaped the controlling clutches of the incoming No 10 (Ryan Allcock).  A battling period ensued, an episode of madness was fought in the Sandbach penalty box, survival for the guests was had but there was a goal on the cards, I could feel it in my rising waters.  Sandbach broke again, No 4 (Declan O' Riordan) was away, shook off his marker and looked ready to break the deadlock - the home keeper (Stuart Morrison) though was quick to dive at the feet of the menace and duly kill the danger.

The half looked done until a coming together saw a few sparks fly and Sandbach's Allcock get shown a straight red - I suspect a few verbals added to the decision.  At the last, and inspired by their one man advantage, the NM lads looked to finish the first 45 with a flourish.  A free-kick brought no joy, a sweeping attack was quality but the guest No 5 (Kris Stockton) produced an outstanding tackle and suddenly we were done and Old Mother Hubbard's knickers of good time goals were bare - ooh the old misery guts.

A brew and a natter for half-time, all agreed this had been a decent do so far with much to ponder.  The pendulum of positivity had swung towards the hopes of the hosts after that unexpected sending off - the question was, could they make the most of it - dum, de, dum, dum!

From the start of the second period the guests more than held their own but Brown for the hosts pushed on, put in a cross that was deflected and fell to No 7 (Robbie Swallow) who put in a delicate touch and grabbed the first goal of the game.  The Millers now started to control the game, Ambrose had a snap shot into the side netting and Sandbach really needed to get to grips with matters or this one would be done, dusted and all aspirations would be busted.  A few spiced tackles raised the heat of the contest, Sandbach heaved onwards, 3 shots came, 2 blocks came, the last effort went wide - this though was highly promising and the game was far from over.  The visitors now had ideas, a quick move culminated with Cain swivelling, releasing and clattering the post,  Once again the SB squad came, a dazzling ball saw Lane almost nip in, almost but not quite.  Cain for the trailing team was being a perpetual peril, he supplied 2 more crosses - one low aching for a touch that never came, the second high and swinging that was just dealt with by a flustered New Mills pack.  A delay brought welcome relief for the hosts who restarted the game with impetus and released their Swallow to sign, seal and deliver the game.  The shot was saved and soon after the same scenario was created and the same outcome had.

Into the rising tension we marched, a Sandbach goal-kick went over all heads, was hoofed back and then volleyed with spite by Cain.  The keeper sprung, stretched and saved - a fine moment to keep the peepers wide.  The hosts were offering little in return although Brown nearly nipped in after a defensive mix-up but a dubious goal-kick was the result.  Brown had another shot and then Sandbach broke, No 12 (Tom Williams) delivered, a cranial touch came and the keeper was beat, No 6 (Christopher Rowntree) was the executioner, this had been one fine fightback.  From here The Millers tried to dig deep, No 14 (Aaron Fleming) had a rare pop that went over and the the visitors swooped with high intensity.  A cross, a shot, a save - a corner followed.  A short ball was played, No 15 (Matt Pearson) was on it, progression was allowed, the whole defensive unit looked uncertain and suddenly a rasping shot was delivered and the Sandbach crew had smashed, grabbed and nearly delivered a quite unbelievable turnaround.  Wow man, wow!

From here there was a whole lot of huff and puff with The Millers desperate to salvage something from a game they should have been in command of.  Cain had a free-kick for Sandbach that just wouldn't stay down and then lashed another shot within seconds that was was closer than first imagined.  No 14 (Lucas Baker) had the last real effort of the game with a sizzling run down the right that ended with a shot the keeper did mighty well to block with his legs.  6 minutes were added, the finale was frantic but Sandbach gave little away and eventually were delighted to hear the final whistle and bag the 3 point prize.  Man of the Match goes to Sandbach United's No 11 (Harry Cain) who ran himself into the ground, played with a mercurial tempo and was, throughout the whole match, an incessant problem that New Mills never really dealt with.  We had enjoyed this one, final chats and farewells were had to the aforementioned folk and off we pootled, 6 matches of the season left.

FINAL THOUGHT - Well, I thoroughly enjoyed this one and my missus did too.  It was an highly entertaining match that had unexpected incidents, chances aplenty and with an outcome that wasn't confirmed until the final shrill of the pea-laden implement.  New Mills must be gutted with their second half performance and rather than take the bull by the bollocks they sat back and looked like startled rabbits in the headlights of an oncoming articulated truck with little idea how to avoid the end disaster.  It was the lack of ideas and the belief that they could hammer the 10 men that cost them tonight, a lesson they will duly learn from and be thankful it was handed on when there was little on the line.  They are still in transition but have a lot to build on and seem to have many a good player in the pack who will bring much reward - of course I will be checking up on them several times next year, it is always a fine place to visit.  Sandbach were exceptional tonight and if the truth be known, wanted this more and wouldn't be denied.  When down to 10 men they refused to sit back and soak thing up - they had enough belief and character to take the game on, go for the win and unltimately achieve full triumph.  In truth, I thought they would be pushing for top spot this time around and am surprised they are just off the main pace setters - but as per, there is always next time and if the heart and passion, as shown tonight, can be maintained, I am sure they can be serious movers and shakers in the 2019/2020 campaign.

EMPTY NEST

30th March 2019 - Swallownest FC 0 v 1 Parkgate FC - We started the day today mighty early and headed across the Woodhead Pass and down the M1 to arrive at Rother Valley Country Park as the sun was just starting to exhibit its potential.  We had a good walk, a few bugs, many birds and several blooms with dinner enjoyed and a sprawl had whilst reading our chosen paperbacks.  We arrived at Swallownest FC 90 minutes before kick-off, had a chill, entered the ground and duly scoffed some fine chips and slurped some tea.  We took up our positions in the sun, my good lady had a read, I looked for a few bugs, the best was the Hoverfly (Eupeodes luniger) the first of the year - yippee.  This was a game that was outside our normal territory, we normally stick to the North West Counties League and throw in the odd excursion here and there to keep things interesting.  I had no idea what the Hell was going to happen here, maybe the referee would spontaneously combust, a one-legged streaker would hop his way to arousing success or the whole pitch would collapse and suck us all into a vortex of sheer madness - who knows?  I hoped for a good game, many goals and much excitement, I was to be left a trifle disappointed if the truth be known and as a result, considered assassinating the club Chairman as way of recompense - I do get worked up at times.  The teams eventually came out, my pen was prepared to gush, here is what dripped from the nib.

The host team swooped quickest, a firm cross  by No 4 (Mitch Ward) found the bonse of No 10 (Jason Short) but the execution was lacking direction and went straight into the keepers awaiting hands.  Parkgate reacted, No 11 (Silas Collins) slapped in a cross that was nutted behind for a corner with the resultant kick from the angle an early contender of 'The Big Match Bilge Award'.  The opening throes offered very few further chances, both sides struggling to settle and looking overly keen to create.  The closest we actually got to a goal was when the home keeper launched a free-kick from his own half and watched it bounce over No 1 and alas, over the bar - that could have been interesting to say the least.  The match ticked on, hollers of 'time, time' came from both packs when a colleague was in possession, all we got was rushed and panic riddled football with no composure.  Swallownest somehow cultivated a rare chance, a bonus boot was awarded just outside the box which No 7 (Luke Beedham) knocked over the horizontal - it could be one of those days!

From here shabby tackles, lack of control, a rock hard pitch that showed no forgiveness and rising irritation all contributed to an affair that was far from liquid football - this was a grueller. The home birds started to shade matters and won a series of free-kicks and corners but surprise, surprise, all to no avail.  As half-time approached a bloke came round collecting funds for the charity MIND.   We duly put our bit in the pot and wondered, if after witnessing a match such as this, that in the near future, depression will have taken hold and we would be needy service users - it seemed possible the way things were going.  The final gasps of the half came like the death rattle of a constipated hippo.  The Nest had a shot boomed high and then a final move came with No 8 (Oliver Grady) sending in a long, angled cross that was met by the crust of Short at the back post - wide the ball went.  Crikey that was bordering on excitement and my good lady had to hold me upright as my legs gave way under the unexpected high - thankfully the referee blew for half time and I had time to recompose (please add own sarcasm).

We stayed put for the break, soaked up the rays and looked for an appropriate spot to hang ourselves - it was that kind of game.  The players eventually came back out, would we find anything to get aroused by or would the game remain as the love-life of ex-wrestler Big Daddy - full of huff and puff but no end thrill.

The second period stuttered and lacked any real composure.  As stated, the pitch was unforgiving and many a bobble brought a miskick or bounced the ball too far when a probing pass was played.  Parkgate started to apply themselves and won a free-kick.  The ball in was on target, the tip over by the keeper was the high point of the game thus far.  The corner came, a leg came out, the ball went into the net - own goal, it kind of summed things up - if ever a game was going to be decided by an error this was it.  With the deadlock broken substitutes came each way and then a rare excursion into pastures perilous came for the hosts with a long ball flicked on by the cranium of No 9 (Alex Lill) allowing Short to fire just off target.  A few miskicks came next, one or two highly sauced tackles with vulgarities exchanged - whilst all the while Parkgate increase the stranglehold on the game and suffocated their opponents endeavours in all areas.  

The final stretch saw Swallownest appear like a pissed-up Einstein and lack any ideas whereas Parkgate where like a Viagra-laden lobber and stayed somewhat firm.  The home lads worked hard, No 2 (Aaron Statham) trespassed, received the globe in the box, turned with haste and let fly - once more the ball, like the voice of Joe Pasquale whilst wearing a razor-filled thong, had too much elevation.  Bookings came, weak efforts had, Parkgate nearly produced a freak moment when a throw-in missed all heads and limbs and hit the near post - ooh!  The match limped to the finale, Statham had a fine thrust forth but was tumbled and the free-kick that followed lacked any real 'oomph' - it was with great relief when the referee called for full-time - get me outta here folks, this has been a trial.  Man of the Match today gives me a chance to end on a positive note and goes to Parkgate FC's No 5 (Haydn Ward) who was a stable player throughout, made sure the back ranks stayed firm and was a strong contributor to the final shut-out - it never goes unnoticed.

FINAL THOUGHT - So we came, we saw and after dipping our hands into the nest of the swallow we came away with only one Goal-den egg and even that was slightly cracked and lacked the true polish purist's so highly desire.   These things happen, sometimes two teams come together onto the field of battle and consistently fire blanks, mistime their attacks and duly snuff each other out.  There was an abundance of endeavour on show today, plenty of frantic excitement but for me, the main culpable parties were the pitch and the general lack of commanding composure.  The game needed one team to get the ball, pass and play and have a lengthy bout of possession to get a real feel for the conditions and the baled turf beneath the galloping feet.  I think both units could have played until Doomsday and no real breakthrough would have been had, sometimes you just have to be acceptant of a situation.  All in attendance seemed in agreement this hadn't been a prize-winning encounter with one guy wandering off and stating he will miss the next home match as he couldn't take anymore.  I will hopefully catch up with both parties again at some point and will see all involved do themselves justice, therefore I will reserve ultimate judgement until then.  We had enjoyed our visit nonetheless and wish all and sundry the best - keep trying and enjoying folks, it is still better than doing sweet FA.

TUESDAY NIGHT TICKLER

26th March 2019 - Congleton Town 2 v 1 Northwich Victoria - Into the rear end of the season we go with only 10 matches left for we two wanderers to attend.  The run-in will be used to catch a few new teams and squeeze in some neglected favourites - there are too many of both to be honest.  A day at work, a breezy ride down to the ground and the usual scenario set - chips, tea, arses on seats.  As per I am run ragged, it is all self-inflicted and down to nothing more than passion and what many would deem stupidity - alas the many are wrong and to do is my raison d'etre.  A home win looked on the cards tonight but when, at this stage of the season, legs are tired, there is little to play for and summer excursions beckon - well, who the Hell knows.  I have a Buddhist figurine that has the head of Brough Scott and a pecker that resembles a nude John McCrirrick picking up a ten bob bit - I use it to garner an insight into future realms - all I need do is rub the swollen bits and close my eyes (not in public though).  The piece of prophecy indicated an 8 - 8 draw, I think I may have rubbed certain areas a little too vigorously - darn these heavy hands.  I shoved the ornament up my pet donkey's arse and opted for a 3 - 1 win for The Bears - only by reading this report will you find out the end result and if, the head pills I am on, have eventually kicked in.

The first hint at any action came via a few shots each way with No 7 (William Hasler-Cregg) for the Congo and No 11 (Jordan Darr) for the Vics putting in early range finders that brought little in the way of brow-furrowing consternation for either keeper.  The hosts began to apply a certain pressure with Hasler-Cregg a noticeable splinter in the jacksie of the opponents rear.  A decent ball was played through much midfield mither that saw No 10 (Saul Henderson) flick on with his lofted crust and No 9 (Daniel Cope) receive with the goal gaping wider than the oral orifice of a sprog before a lactating nipple.  The ball was boomed, a gasp arose from the onlookers, the ball penetrated the night-time air rather than the awaiting zone of glory, the groans from the punters were thoroughly justified.  Immediately after Hasler-Cregg captured the ball, cut in with concentrated focus, shot and forced a decent save.  The keeper looked to clear, Cope blocked and a moment of panic ensued, somehow the mittman recovered.

What a hectic start with the guests under the cosh.  The Vics managed to cultivate a sortie forth, the hirsute No 10 (John Connolly) was an integral part of a move that saw his shot blocked and ultimately cleared.  From here the visitors had a period of high potential with several passes just falling short of the 'killer' grade.  Shots came each end, there was nothing to raise any goosebumps of excitement until Congleton flashed forth with No 11 (Emini Adegbenro) scampering down the wing, blazing in a low cross that was touched back with Henderson walloping and rattling the timber - now that was close.  Another ball forth came next, Cope took it down quite beautifully and let fly - just off target.  More shots came, the same outcome was had, the shooting boots were slowly getting warmed up.  Suddenly Hasler-Cregg received, fantastic urgency and drive were displayed through a run that traversed several defensive guardians.  The peg was eventually swung, the contact was perfect, the bottom corner was found, it was a strike well deserved and added a new dimension to a fascinating affair.

Northwich Victoria came on next, a ball in and out was knocked back with precise interest by the feet of No 8 (Matthew Clarke).  The ball flew with good impetus, the only thing lacking was direction, the bar was missed by the smallest of margins.  No 4 (Dominic Craig) had a pop next, again off line and then The Bears pounced, a free-kick found Henderson who had an AWOL keeper to beat.  The shot was at the centre of goal, the mittman back-pedalled quicker than a Tory MP, somehow a gloved hand extended and just recovered the situation, in truth, it was a fine moment of redemption.  This slice of salvation though was instantaneously negated when a ball by No 8 (Dean Warburton) entered the 6 yard box, Cope stuck his neck out and tupped the ball homeward. 2 - 0 to the hosts, that looked to be it for the first period but not so, The Vics had other designs, passed and probed around the box, a player dashed, was tumbled, a penalty awarded.  Up stepped No 9 (Brian Matthews), he slammed the ball into the keeper but the impetus was high and the net eventually found - we went into the break on a knife-edge (ooh me arse).

We stayed put for the interval and listened to a few elderly gents nearby natter away about Quatermass, The Golden Shot and of course, the match.  They are a grand bunch here, very amiable folk and make this place a joy to visit - as per, supporters are what make any club what it is, end of.

The second half started with increasing gusto, shots came, threat was minimal and both teams really started to snuff one another out and so impede any real flow.  Cope for the hosts took a free-kick that was closer than first anticipated and then more attempts either way were dealt with or just plain old duff.  Eventually The Bears began to bite, Hasler-Clegg released a beauty but just couldn't create enough bend to sneak inside the upright.  The NV ranks needed some respite and needed it in double quick time but the Town came once more, Adegbenro wriggled away down the wing and fed Henderson with a neatly placed pass.  The shot was like the freshly drained testicles of Old Homo Giles - lacking in spunk.  2 gratis-digs for The Vics were had, one was from the teams own half that led to the second just inside the 'D' - alas the punt was piss-poor.  The time was gobbled up with little action had, the visitors worked mighty hard but the chances that came either way lacked a finishing spark and were negated by some reliable defending.

Down the run in and Congleton played a fine containing game, Northwich Victoria had a penalty claim waved away and then, from the midst of grinding animation, No 12 (John Main) latched onto a long pass and looked set to sign, seal and deliver the 3 point prize.  Once again the shot was lightweight and wide.   The last gasp saw a NV free-kick enter the goal area but a touch was lacking and that was that.  The first half had been a beauty, the second a chess-match that dampened true thrills.  From the hard work Man of the Match goes to the Congleton Town No 5 (Thomas Morris) for a pivotal performance that oozed dogged determination, a stubborn resistance and a defender's insight into protecting and building from the back.  A good player this, one The Town need to hold onto. 

FINAL THOUGHT - It was one of those games tonight that was of two contrasting halves - the first a brisk and bright affair that exhibited free-flowing football with chances aplenty at either end and the home team dazzling in many areas.   The second half was a less flamboyant event with a clash of styles contributing to a battle of wills and only the barest opportunity to ripple mesh on offer.  The home team are almost a complete unit and only the barest tinkering is needed to make this the full-on machine destined for the next step up.  Our visits to the Cheshire Silk 106.9 Stadium are always a joy, no matter how tired or how flustered we always feel welcome, enjoy the ambience created by the faithful and always witness a good game of soccer - tonight was no exception and applause must go to both sides for the fair play and good approach to the game.  The Vics worked away and have many classy elements but were just outdone tonight by a decent group of players.  Perhaps the FA Vase distraction isn't helping and of course, that is where emphasis must lie.  Nevertheless there were many positives tonight, much to applaud and one or two players who look to be in real command of the game.  The fight for third spot is still on, only a few points separates the teams with The Vics holding games in hand, it could be an interesting run in.

ECK-CEPTIONAL DESIRES

23rd March 2019 - Eccleshall FC 4 v 3 Stockport Town - Up with the lark, out quicker than a fart from a laxative laden eel, down to Doxey Marshes with hopes higher than the voice of Jimmy Somerville on a helium bender.  We arrived, spent a good while birding and saw some good species along the way, Little Egret, Great White Egret and Cattle Egret the most noteworthy.  A call off at Sainsbury's for some scram was had and then to Pershall Park we went to have a sit in the car and replenish the batteries.  After the bellies were filled we had a wander down a nearby country track and examined the hedgerows coming up with a good list of buglife including 40 Pied Shieldbugs, 1 Common Green Shieldbug, 1 Hairy Shieldbug and 3 species of Mining Bee amongst others.  Wandering back to the ground and tea and chips was a must, a walk around the pitch was had and a chat with a few faces very much enjoyed.   This game, according to recent results, looked set to be an away win but, as ever with this Non-League Lottery - anything goes.  If anyone out there uses the form book for anything else than wiping their backside or making paper planes then they really do need to have a word with themselves - this is the North West Counties League - a realm of excitement, endless possibilities and unpredictability, in fact, I have a story to tell about these things, it goes something like this.

The embryonic action saw things level out and no team really gain the upperhand.  Eventually the home lads cultivated the initial opportunity with a ball up and over landing at the feet of the pacey No 10 (Bradley Carr) who seemed surprised to be in a shooting position.  The shank was swung, the ball propelled but the travelling No 1 (Andrei Stinca) stood his ground and proved to be an immovable force.  A corner came, it had about as much quality as a diluted bottle of No Frills Vimto - as you were folks.  The Ecky Army came once more, a sharp attack that saw a ball thread in the flying No 2 (Conor Docherty).  The player at the apex of the onslaught had a chance to shoot, he hesitated before releasing, the ball was partially blocked, went loose and up popped No 3 (Lewis Dunn) to bumble the globe over the line and grab the oh so crucial first goal.  The home heads looked delighted, the Lions slightly tamed, imagine the uproar in the resident ranks when they pilfered the ball from the kick off, No 9 (Thomas Wakefield) received near the halfway line and succeeded in audaciously chipping the keeper and doubling the home side's lead.   What a goal, what a turn up - remember what I said about endless possibilities.

The Lions now had to pounce and press, they came on but looked a trifle disjointed up at the front.  No 3 (Kieron McConnell) battled just outside the box and connected well with the ball that saw it fizz just the wrong side of the horizontal - a warning shot across the boughs perhaps?  Eccleshall counterpunched from this scare, No 11 (Daniel Needham) was released, exposed applaudable pace and got a shot away that was sturdily blocked by a never-say-die defender.  The Town bounced back, No 11 (George Blackwell) indulged in some tricky play, knocked a ball out wide that No 10 (Kiarno Samms) gathered at the angle. The player in possession looked to cut in and cross but instead let fly with grim determination and blistered one right into the meat of the mesh - what a solid strike, this one was far from over folks.

The guests now displayed a far better attitude and approach than previously seen in this gripping game.  2 corners came, the second ended with Samms bulging the side netting.  Eccleshall had a corner of their own, the delivery found Needham who exhibited feet quicker than Tommy Steele on steroids, the shot however was blocked by yet more resolute defending.  The Eck advanced again, Wakefield used decent strength to play an exquisite crossfield ball that Docherty collected.  The latter player rasped in a daisy beheading sizzler that begged for the touch of an assassin, alas the killer was absent, what a pity!  A break followed, a home player got a stern talking to and a yellow card for a clumsy tackle.  Shots came each end, both were easily dealt with by the protectors of the mesh and then another saucy tackle impeded the flow.  A free-kick for the travellers came, in the ball went and then sent the other way with Ecky's Needham on the run.  The goal beckoned, the chance to shoot on offer, alas for the hosts Stockport's No 2 (Joshua Robinson) produced a stunning tackle and killed the danger stone dead.  That looked to be it, the first 45 was almost done but there was still a twist in the frisky tail with Stockport Town marauding at the death, No 9 (Gavin Salmon) was on it just outside the box, was bungled down and thus earned a gratis boot.  Up stepped No 8 (Robert Lofthouse), he eyed his spot, wallop - the sickener for the hosts had been dealt, the smash and grab equaliser for the visitors earned - when the referee blew for the break all in attendance were surely in agreement - this was an unpredictable beauty!

A cuppa for the break, a chat with a few fine folk, the weather was spot on, the warm friendly atmosphere of the ground readily noted, what more could anyone ask for besides a full-English breakfast, an Indian buttock message, a lifetime supply of pies and the gift of eternal life for me and my loved ones - hey ho, perhaps I am a trifle to demanding?

The teams came back out, The Town had an early free-kick that found the crust of Salmon who could only knock it wide, the hosts responed with a corner that saw Wakefield put in a close header that was sweetly tipped over the bar.  Corners followed each end, no explosive joy was had and then the home lads earned a free-kick on the edge of the box that Wakefield struck well but was easily collected by the alert mittman.  In return Robinson for Stockport was at the end of a multi-pass move with his shot saved, dropped and gathered at the second attempt.  To the opposite end we went, a free-kick the other way, Robinson popped one in, it was over by mere inches.  The game was anyone's for the taking, a patchy period saw both teams reluctant to gamble and push with any adventure.  The visitors made a few changes, Eccleshall had 4 corners on the bounce, the first 3 went into the great footballing almanac labelled as 'pointless' the last however entered the danger zone, was knocked out and returned with interest by Docherty who drilled through the pack and regained his side the much desired lead.  It was another great strike, it was indication of a team dragged back into combat but not prepared to give up anytime soon - excellent indeed.

Within minutes of this highpoint a tussle led to an Eccleshall free-kick.  The ball was sent forth with good elevation and middling pace.  The keeper came, misread the flight of the orb and was just in time to see the loose ball fall to Carr who slammed home and give his side another 2 goal cushion.  The home supporters faces blossomed with sincere delight, the 11 creators of the joy looked over the moon, all the hosts had to do now was tighten the ranks and see this one out for 3 valuable points.  The minutes ticked, there were 10 to go when suddenly Samms for The Town should resilience out wide, knocked in a cross that No 7 (Reece Skelton) latched onto and made this one 4 - 3- wow!

Into the dregs we went, it was a touch and go period with the referee seemingly the owner of a busted ticker and thus creating a situation of warped time.   The travelling pack hussled and harried, the hosts answered each and every challenge and bust many a gonad trying to protect their now fragile lead.  2 half chances were all that came for the trailing pack, both snuffed out with relative ease by a perspiring unit who desperately wanted this one.  At the death the home keeper cracked a long ball forth to ease the pressure, Wakefield was on the end of it and with a tired carcass hit a first time shot that crawled wide - it could have been icing on the cake but as it transpired, it didn't matter as the man in black blew for full-time soon after and the 3 points stayed at Pershall Park.  The Man of the Match was a tricky decision but for me, No 6 (Callum Feeney) was a highly disciplined component in the Eccleshall ranks and went about his business with quiet authority that contributed more to this win than many may guess.  The work rate was high, the efficiency applaudable, for me this was an example of a reliable nucleus around which much opportunity was created.  So, farewells to many smiling faces, an adios and congratulations to the amiable club secretary Jim Tunney and homeward bound we went - what a good do hey!

FINAL THOUGHT - Desire is a bold commodity - it can achieve great things!  Today Eccleshall wanted it more than their opponents, they grafted with unstoppable ardour and worked throughout the 90 minute stretch and beyond.  Stockport Town are no mugs, they came, they tried, they were just outdone by a hungrier machine Hell-bent on the end triumph.  In truth, the guests looked a bit tired today and perhaps after their stunning 8 - 0 win last week were a trifle out of focus and not as motivated as they should have been.  This had been a wake up call and if a team wants to achieve the only way to do it is with consistency and a willingness to shift the shit week in and week out - this I feel is a small blip, they will be back for sure.  Eccleshall today had passion and urgency, come the end many legs were drained, many brows dripping and many lungs burning but, success had been achieved and without persistent hardwork and belief the story could have been oh so different.  I think the team did themselves proud today and of course gave their fine supporters a day to remember.  Eccleshall have a great set up here, the ambience of the place, the old school ground and rugged reality of the place is what Non-League is about and I don't think anyone (including the visitors) could go away with any complaints - this had been a fine advertisement for a game severely overlooked - applause must go to both teams and all who turned up.  Remember, we are blessed folk to be witnessing matters at grassroots level, today we had been given more proof of why overlooked football is the best - keep on folks, never give in and bloody well enjoy (I know we did).