CAMMELLS HUMPED

21st September 2024 - Cammell Laird 2 v 3 Ashville FC - Me and the missus were up and on the road for 7.50am prompt, we are always keen to make the most of the days out and we were soon out and about at Eastham Country Park, pondering a  few fungi, enjoying a quiet stroll and having a coffee in a lovely quirky cafe.  Time flew by like a Crane-Fly being chased by a net-brandishing insect pervert, we were soon back in the car, parked up and swanning around the glorious open-space of Port Sunlight River Park - here we met up with a fine couple we know from the music scene - creators of synthed, punky, goth vibes who are darn good company to boot.  We enjoyed the scenery, a few bugs, blooms and fungi and ended up in a cafe (it goes without saying).  From here we had a brew at the couples abode, were dropped back at our car from where we made headway to Cammell Laird FC.   

The last time we had visited this ground was about 10 years ago, we enjoyed it but could remember nothing.  We arrived with 20 minutes to spare before the ball got rolling. We grabbed some chips and pop and chose a quite suitable viewing spot.  During the jaunt we spied 40+ wildlife species - and a great hairy arsed punter who I am sure should be added to the British Ape List - I will call the correct authorities. 

So, after the food was swallowed, the pop swilled and the feet placed in position, the ball began to roll and I rattled out the following text-based observations. 

The first examination of a defensive set-up came via the away team who pushed and probed but were met with firm resistance.  Cammell Laird responded with a move finalised by the cranial contact of their No 11 (Jack Darlington) whose pop at goal lacked the crucial 'oomph' factor.  The game had good pace, both teams were radiating an 'attack-minded' ethos and I looked forward to witnessing the initial breakthrough real soon. The hosts began to grow into the game and show more purpose, Ashville though were a threat and their No 11 (Peter Morgan) was soon released but the first touch was poor and the end shot somewhat weak.  Straight up the other end we went, a keeper error saw the ball go loose and roll into a position to be slapped home.  The chance was not taken, a cross followed, was only half dealt with and up stepped No 10 (Ben Glover) and bagged the opening strike. 

Ashville now needed to up the ante, No 10 (Mark Madden) could only manage a shabby shot and No 7 (Thomas Hewlett) had a pop soon after that was of similar quality. After a small break in play the Laird travelled forth again with Ashville not defending as a unit.  A shot was blocked, the loose ball was not cleared and on the scraps fed No 7 (Joseph Brandon) who doubled his teams tally.  This was a fair state of play, Ashville were guilty of not running off the ball enough when advanced flick-ons were being executed, a half-time talk was very much in order. 

Prior to the break a bit of argy-bargy saw a few sequinned purses dropped and a couple of bizarre bookings take place. With a thermally raised feel to the game the final minutes dwindled out and were left with the home team looking set for a 3-point prize. 

We had a wander for the break, looked at a bit of wildlife and swigged some refreshing pop.  The weather was delightful, the game was still nicely balanced despite the guests being behind, I expected a comeback and maybe a draw come the end, this is what transpired. 

A super quick start from the guests was just what the footballing gurus would have prescribed and that is exactly what happened. After a shot over the bar from the hosts Ashville responded with No 9 (Lewis Moynes) letting fly and forcing the keeper to save but not hold.  The free globe was pounced upon and Hewlett halved the deficit - now then, this was interesting indeed. Ashville continued to pile on the pressure, a free kick was posted, the keeper was static and No 17 (Joshua Maldon) watched as the ball left his foot and nestle in the awaiting netting.  It all seemed so simple, and now this game was anyone’s. 

Madness ensued, some touchline onlookers got worked up into a frenzy, it seemed as though there was something in the Wirral Water after all, no wonder my balls were throbbing and turning blue - cripes.  The clobbered Cammell lads looked to get to grips with matters at hand and avoid a looming disaster.  A corner was won and neatly delivered but the No 1 (Jamie Owen) punched well and snuffed out all threat.  A goal-kick soon followed, the home keeper made good contact but the ball was played straight back with the energy-saturated Moynes for Ashville chasing and having a poked shot that the mittman did well to save. 

This was getting a tense affair, the visiting bunch were well up for grabbing the win, Cammell Laird were hanging in with the odd chance missed.  Scrambling and surviving was the name of the game in both boxes as each team looked for the crucial lead goal.  Ashville though slowly gained a grip, a squeeze was on, the next attack was swift and cutting with an overlap, a cross and Madden in the box showing quick feet but only sending the ball into the meat of the mittman's carcass. 

The clock ticked forth, a few shots came at the Laird's goal, Moynes had a beautiful pop with the gloved guardian producing a glorious save.  It wasn't long before the team with their peckers up were marauding forth again. The ball entered the zone marked 'hazardous'. Hewlett arrived and put in a header that went over the keeper and looked destined to land in the string vest - somehow it bounced wide.  What a chance! 

A throw came, Ashville raced away like ferrets from the trouser leg of Russell Grant.  A shot came, it was scuffed but somehow found Hewlett who wasted no time in grabbing the lead goal.  Those on the touchline who were fans of the guests duly went cracked, I was an admirer of a great turnaround but was not one to count any chickens just yet.   

The closing stages galloped by, shots came either end, Cammell Laird had a penalty shout that saw a player booked for a Tom Daley impersonation.  The final chugs saw No 8 (Joel Kelly) for Ashville have a glorious chance to nail the coffin lid shut on the home teams hopes but the shot that was neatly placed around the keeper rolled mere centimetres wide of the vertical.  The referee halted play soon after - this had been some comeback and the Man of the Match must go to the man who played a great part in the footballing resurrection, namely No 9 (Lewis Moynes).  Eternally committed, a bag of zealous energy and a constant buzzing threat – this was an exhausting and quality laden stint even a whizzed up pitman would be proud of – keep eating yer greens lad.

We shuffled off soccer-sated and ready to get home after a long but productive day. 

FINAL THOUGHTS – Cammell Laird have a grand set-up here, much better than I remember and with a good feel to the place.  The team worked hard throughout and during the first half were defensively solid and very good value for their 2 goal lead.  The second half saw pressure build and get a little too much, for me a good hoofing of the ball out of play, a belief in getting a third goal and not sitting too deep would have saved much mither but these things happen and it must be a lesson learned.  Ashville though came on mighty strong and after the previous weeks disappointment did mighty well to show some character and resolute belief and turn this game completely around.  This comeback may just be the start of something special – it is these little nudges into the realms of utter conviction that can make for a successful season.  They do need to work their knackers off though from the off and make sure the running off the ball is consistent and in-tune – maybe they should consider the aforementioned ferret and the fear of having a stargazers todger up their rear – that is enough to make anyone gallop like buggery – ooh me Zodiac.

CLASH AT THE ASH

14th September 2024 - Ashville FC 2 v 2 Shawbury United - A day out again, one of those mix and match affairs me and the missus enjoy so much.  Birkenhead Park was the first port of call - we had a good mooch, a coffee and breakfast bap and enjoy some exceptional sun.  We recorded 126 species which were made up of galls, birds, flowers, fungi and a few other oddments.  I did meet a 3-legged lesbian known as Clitorina but couldn't decipher what category to record her under - nay bother though, many flavours are welcome to the great universal fruitcake.  Having said this, I think the guy using his todger as a dibbler in the communal gardens does need talking to.  We also met a womble - a fine gent who was doing some volunteer litter picking - a man enjoying the sun and doing something far more productive and selfless tha most people would achieve all week - splendid work methinks.  From here we had a short visit to Bidston Moss, a rather tucked away and neglected site with only 2 people present - one was a photographer who gave us a quick rundown on the lay of the land and the other was a man and his dog with a box of beer to get through.  He was a fine fellow of rubicund countenance and with a plan to get back home after a few more slurps and watch the racing and the footy - talking of footy, I think we had a match to attend - cripes.

A short drive, parked up and a chat with two friendly officials.  A brew, a choccy bar and a sit in the shade - we were ready for a good game, and a snooze if the truth be told, where are the ruddy matchsticks when you need em'.

After the whistle had been blown on this clement, but slightly soporific afternoon, the first advancement of any import was made by the resident ranks with a kick from the corner resulting in a disappointingly limp effort.  From here the travellers responded with immediate focus and a throw in saw the ball bumbled forth and No 8 (Joseph Drakeley) gather.  From mid-distance the shank was swung and the globe struck with the sweetest and noiseless contact possible.  The projected orb flew low across the emerald baize before nestling itself in the bottom corner of the meshing - a sweet strike and a shocker for the much fancied hosts.

Ashville were electrocuted into action with a quick movement leading to a ball into the perilous quarters, No 8 (Joel Kelly) receiving and having an initial look at the strike zone.  The first thoughts at glory were passed by, a step over and then another chance was taken and the ball was duly buried.  1 - 1 - parity restored - this was looking like a classic in the making and when Shawbury were soon striding forth and winning a corner I was hoping the goals would keep on coming.  Alas the delivery was as weak as Larry Grayson's handshake and the lofted shot by No 11 (Brendon Price) was about as accurate as one of Donald Trumps aims at the truth.

The game eventually settled, Ashville were next to foray forth with threat.  The move was simple but effective and culminated in a dig by No 7 (Thomas Hewlett) who was only denied by an outstretched shank from the guest No 1 (Ashley Rawlins).  Moments later the home No 10 (Mark Madden) had a pop of his own but the mittman was there again to collect with unflustered ease. Shawbury answered these dangers with a  corner but Ashville defended as a strong unit and dulled any threat, the ruddy spoilsports.

As we paid for a go on the raffle and were confronted by a wannabe Bamber Gascoigne (who duly gave us three posers to contemplate during the rest of the game) I spied the hosts going forth and nearly sneaking a lead goal with the ball landing on top of the netting (I missed the player who had the punt, I was too busy having pot shots at the questions put my way).  The game continued with good pace and endeavour with both teams always looking to play forward thinking football. 

As my pen took a slight break from the paper molesting, the nib was soon exposed again and soon forced to ejaculate ink (ooh cripes, I must stop taking these hormone pills) and Ashville were breezing forth via their No 9 (Joseph Dulson).  The flank flyer negotiated a marker, raced the wing, supplied Madden who had a fair strike at goal with the opposing mitted man doing mighty well to tip over for a corner.  The hoof from the angle was shaky and bore no fruit.

As the half delved into its nether regions the away team looked to hold most promise.  No 9 (Danar Saber) put in a shot that was easily gathered by the keeper, and a few other sorties seemed to hold potential but ended with no further strikes.  When all was looking settled and both teams could ponder the break with a share of the spoils Shawbury's Rawlin's was guilty of holding on to the ball a little too long and when he released to his No 6 (Emmanuel Williams) a similar dilly-dally crime was committed.  The ball was pilfered by No 11 (Peter Morgan). aA one on one situation arose which saw the striker win the day and put his side 2 - 1 up - this was a turn up for the tattered books and when the half ended the scoreline did seem a trifle unfair.

For the break we nattered with some nearby folk, rolled many probable answers to the aforementioned questions around our weary noggins and shared a choccy bar whilst considering shifting our arses to a different position.  We decided to stay put - idle buggers we be.

The first opportunity of half two came for the hosts with Kelly having a chance to strike but leaving it for Madden to connect with. The shot went over the horizontal and from here we entered something of a quiet period.  Ashville did add the odd spark with Dulson probing, finding Madden who laid off for Morgan.  The shot that came was saved for a corner which was duly kicked straight into the side netting - ooh bugger. A few minutes later another corner came and this time the keeper punched with authority and then Ashville came once more with No 16 (Luka Gian-Salvatore) crossing to Kelly who nutted over the bar.

Madden for Ashville had a golden opportunity to add another goal when he was released and only had the keeper to beat.  Full credit to the No 1 though, he stood firm and kept his onion bag unpenetrated.  The pressure still rolled the same way albeit in little ripples rather than big crashing waves. Madden remained a major component in the mix, his assassins boots though were just lacking a little of that killer shine.

A break for an injury, No 3 (Jeffrey Agyeman) for Shawbury hobbled off which was a real shame as so far, he had been the Man of the Match for me.  From here Ashville kept on pushing and squandering any chance off sealing the game. With time ticking away I turned to my good lady and said it looked as though there would be a sting in the tail for the home lads if they didn't put this one to bed mighty soon.  Madden had another shot, a save was made, a follow up effort cleared off the line.  A few more half chances came for the team with their tails up but with the shooting sights just off-line.  Suddenly Shawbury summoned one last hoof, a long ball came, time stood still and the upright was trembled and the free ball was tucked home by No 10 (Jack Howse) - it was the 97^th minute - it was a case of a side hanging in by the skin of their teeth and getting due reward for their efforts.  The game ended soon after - was a draw a justifiable end result - on reflection I thought so.  Man of the Match - a tough one to call but I am sticking with the aforementioned Shawbury United No 3 (Jeffrey Agyeman) - I think that he kept his side very much in this game with some stubborn and controlled defending that was done with head down composure and solid control.  The fact that he had to leave early should not detract from a fine stint.

FINAL THOUGHTS - What a fine set-up it is at Ashville, a welcoming ground with a good feel to it and one we were long overdue visiting.  The game was a strange affair and started with a great burst of activity which led to an absorbing first period of play with the second half being more one sided before being finalised with a surprise suckerpunch from a team who refused to curl up and take a kicking.  Ashville are good value team and after underachieving last year now look to be on the right track.  There is a caveat here though and if they fail to bury teams when they have the upper hand they will be punished over and over again and end up missing out on a play-off spot if not, something a little more attractive.  This is a sticky, tricky league with each and every weekend throwing up many capricious results - be warned Ashville, get thy shooting boots sharpened.  As for Shawbury United - a new team to the league and so, something of an unknown commodity. They are sitting just above the relegation zone but on today's evidence, for the first half at least, looked like a mid-table team.  The second half perfomance was obviously lacking but they hung on in there and snaffled a point that was due reward for the resistance and graft. If they work as a unit, don't get on each other's cases and enjoy this new journey they will be OK - they must play for the full 90 minutes though and maintain the attacking style that was more obvious in the first half.  Hopefully we can get down to their ground at some point and I shall do another report - digits crossed.

So, a good day done, we pootled off home well pleased.  Oh - the answers to the questions eluded us but the quizmaster collared us before we left and enlightened our puzzled noggins  - the answers were:- A - Jimmy Saville's Arse, B - Pubic Lice and C - Double Diamond Pale Ale - I really should have known that last one - bah.

DAISY DEADHEADED

18th August 2024 - Maghull FC 3 v 2 Daisy Hill - Match report 418, that leaves 82 to go and then I shall call it a pointless job well done.  Let us face it, putting back is what it is all about but from a sober perspective, the difference made is minimal.  We live in a world of self-serving, 'take, take' shittery, the media dictates, the rebels are either stone-thick or too beaten down to even fart.  Hey ho, they ain't having me, that's for sure.  PS - I am a grumpy bastard today - what's new I hear many say!

The morn was choice, my superb missus and I went to Southport Botanical Gardens where we had a coffee, recording 52 wildlife species, pondered the blooms and the squawking caged birds as well as the general ambience.  From here we had a grand walk around Southport Marine Lake, clocked up another 67 wildlife records, enjoyed the sun and natural beauty and duly rose above the half-wit who threw his empty beer can down, the many folk who wandered on the phone with eyes wide shut and those missing the micro and macro beauty of a place worthy of respect.  From here we had a fine lunch and brew, and of course, a look in a book shop which is always essential behaviour wherever we are.

A 25 minute drive saw us arrive safe and sound at the ground sought, the arses were parked and we had a read in the sun - my good lady is ploughing through several series of books like a drugged up bookworm, I was catching up on some letters written by the Impressionists, an area of the art world I am particularly interested in due to its closeness and appreciation of matters natural.

Time flew by like a wasp with a splinter up its jacksie, we were soon upright and ready to watch the next game unfold at a ground we hadn't visited before - here is my take on matters.

The lass in the middle peeped at just gone 3pm, the ball was pushed this way and that in what was a fairly hesitant and considered commencement.  Daisy Hill had the initial advancement with the ball skewing this way and that and appearing to be as greasy as one of Donald Trump's chat-up lines.  Matters soon calmed down, Maghull were able to cultivate an attack of their own via some sweet wing wriggling, a cross and a shot deflected wide.  An angle punt came, Daisy Hill were slack in their duties and No 11 (Jacob Till) was allowed to find space and slap the globe homeward. I was thrilled, every game should have an early goal, in fact it must be made law.

As Maghull fed on any spare scraps they eventually worked their way back in.  A nosebleed break was eventually sorted and when the whistle blew for play to continue the Maghull keeper seemed to be caught with his conkers dangling as a long Daisy Hill ball found the galloping No 2 (Kyle Whittaker) who knocked a delightful looper into the back of the onion bag.  This was a choice take and from here the guests looked to be the better side and duly capitalised on the early breakthrough.  Maghull worked hard, Till went on a decent run that saw matters finalised with a firm shot the visiting No 1 (Morgan Newns) did well to catch on the stretch.  

Maghull were soon parading forth again, some good industrious interplay saw a cross find No 2 (Joseph Doyle) whose first time shot had a little too much elevation.  The same team soon won a brace of corners with the second causing greatest threat as No 10 (Nathan Moffitt) executed a back flick that was just a little to easy for the keeper to deal with.  Another angled hoof came soon after, Till connected at the back post, the mittman was down and turned behind.  Several more corners came in quick succession, the deliveries were fairly decent but the end punishment was just not there.  Moffitt for the hosts had a couple of late digs that failed to raise perspiration and somehow the half was done.

The opening 45 had been a strange affair, both teams just seemed to be lacking a true cohesiveness and a clash of styles was impeding any major fluidity.  We stayed put for the break, we were feeling a trifle jaded to say the least, it had been a busy morn after a quite hectic few weeks, and my ruddy back and groin were tweaking with this nagging hernia - darn this aging process.

The second period started in subdued fashion with a free-kick not fulfilling the potential we so stupidly expected.  Maghull soon progressed with promise, a lightning cross was the apical component but the killer touch by Moffitt was akin to an assassin trying to slay a pygmy with a rubber knife - slightly embarrassing.  Several crosses followed in quick succession, each one was overloaded and Daisy Hill were allowed to breathe several sighs of relief.  Maghull soon won another corner from a spell of unadulterated crappery - no breakthrough was had as the defenders stood firm but moments later a rapid onslaught came, Daisy Hill had a chance to quell any threat but failed to do so, the ball was buried in the shabbiest of fashions by Moffitt but the goal stood and the hosts were somehow ahead.

A stale period of toing and froing came when out of nothing the visiting No 9 (Ryan Talbot) flew the flank, put in a cross that was touched on and bumbled home by No 10 (Kaiden Barlow).  These strikes were far from appealing to the orbs but it gave the game a bit of added zest that was very much needed.  

No sooner had my nib left the parchment than Maghull were away and my peepers were witness to Till knocking home his second goal and giving his side the much needed suckerpunch and lead goal.  I was left bewildered by how this game had given birth to 5 goals and how Daisy Hill had worked so hard to get matters all square only to throw it all away almost immediately.

The  latter stages saw the Daisy Dudes splutter along with no real threat and Maghull offer a few minor scares but nothing worthy of the ink in my pen.  The final whistle was eventually blown by the ref who had had a decent game.  I pondered the Man of the match and went for the less obvious with Maghull's No 4 (Levi Adebisi) getting the nod due to his quick reading of the game, quiet but effective shift and an all round defensive stint that was better than many may have noticed - a quality output if you ask me.

FINAL THOUGHTS - A new ground done after a good morning art and abart.  My thoughts on both teams are very similar with a great deal of hesitancy had as regards a full on opinion.  These are the early stages of a campaign and for me, the two units on show displayed little to convince me that they are the finished article.  As is the case with many teams, it is the width of play and the finishing that is the key and here, in both instances, I feel there is work to be done.  I do think there is great potential in many areas and several players caught my eye as regards commitment and that head down discipline.  One thing I would liken todays contest to though is when you get two boxers of fair quality going toe to toe and snuffing out the finer aspects of each others threat.  Several periods during this game saw a distinct lack of piercing potential and that was down to nothing less than the set-up's and the general rub of the green.  

As things stand, I may have witnessed two teams with mid-table potential but I do hope I am wrong and they both go on and have cracking campaigns.  This is a very tricky league to call and already, points are being lost and won in the most unexpected ways possible.  There will be twists and turns, a few flounderers will come good, a few high flyers will come unstuck, only time will tell how these two teams will fare.  I shall be watching Maghull play one of my favoured teams in a few days, namely Maine Road FC.  It may be a real test, I am taking the wisest course possible and shying away from a prediction - a few goals and good endeavour wouldn't go amiss though.

WOLFING DOWN

3rd August 2024 - Wolverhampton Sporting Community 2 v 5 Abbey Hulton Utd - The first report of the new season, the aim just to do the odd assessment at new grounds only.  I am perpetually snowed under and am opting for quality over quantity.

The morn was spent at 2 nature reserves, broken only by a good breakfast, a coffee and all with the best company ever (my missus).  The second reserve saw us find a new plant gall, soak up some rays and discover a bee's nest.  Of course, being the ever-nosey naturalist, I had to have a look at the buzzers abode and duly got my ear stung.  It throbbed like buggery and began to swell as the day progressed - I ended up looking like a lop-sided elephant who had been out in the sun for far too long.  The swelling and the throbbing though did have me pondering the prospect of dipping my todge in the said nest of aggravation - a new form of natural Viagra may be hitting the shelves of a chemist near you very, very soon.  If those who are brave enough to partake start passing honey, then there will be no extra fee - sweet success for all I'd say.

And so, with a tingling lobe, a couple of good lists had, we headed to this new ground, purchased a brew, some choccy and crisps and sat in the sun at pitchside.  I completed a cryptic crossword and my good lady had a read, before we knew it the teams were out and we had to shuffle off the solar-soaked baize and adopt out viewing positions proper.

The ball got rotating, my pen was produced along with some tatty torn paper upon which I strove to make some notes.  Instantaneously the guests blew forth like a horde of diahorrea sufferers looking for a place to shit.  The ball was passed with haste, No 11(Lewis Holdham) was suddenly in position, chanced an early punt and bagged the first goal of the game, all to the dismay of the unsettled resident squad.  The Wolves lads attempted to immediately counterpunch but the apical side-footed attempt by No 9 (Luke Georgiou) was not the way to do it.

Abbey Hulton were still in a state of goal-scoring arousal but were caught with their conkers exposed (watch out, Huw Edwards may be about) as the home No 2 (Khalil Harrison) knocked a sugar-sweet curveball down the wing that No 11 (Declan Riley) gladly accepted.  The frontman made haste, had a pop, the outcome, a placed shot lacking true direction and failing to dampen down any footy-based erections.

The hosts came again, a free-kick was earned on the edge of the box but the dire delivery led to a swift breakaway that saw Holdham place to No 9 (Kieran Brown) who set his sights and fired home.  This was an early double whammy that had the home pack reeling. As if this wasn't enough, moments later the visiting tribe were marauding once more with numerous runners dragging the opposition this way and that way.  Space opened, No 4 (Benjamin Shirley) received, had time to shoot and bury and create a real uphill struggle for the gold and black clad squad.

A period that was more balanced saw the hefty home No 3 (Ronee Hendricks) have a pop from range that was not too far from the onion bag.  Abbey Hulton responded with much hustle and bustle that saw a few moments of panic in the opposing box but with danger eventually jumped upon.  And then we had a water break (no pissing involved of course).

The action began soon after, Wolves won a free kick that No 10 (Craig Bannister) sent forth with the Hulton unit defending well.  A gratis hoof came for the guests next after Harrison for the hosts fell over the ball like a clumsy clot and put his mitt on the globe.  Brown had a crack with a deflection had and the keeper reading matters to duly collect with ease.

The half was already winding down. Abbey Hulton continued to play the Invaders From Mars role and probe away with deliberate intent.  Wolves were unwilling victims and looked to make a mark of their own with Hendricks sending forth a scuffed shot that was almost knocked home by the late arriving Riley - the latter bod was just a little too late on the scene.

As the half-time score looked set in stone the resident Harrison gained possession, fumbled and bumbled his way through a pack, rode several tackles in a quite unorthodox way and somehow bagged a goal after taking a most hopeful punt.  This now added an extra dimension to a game that was looking all done.  It was a ruddy good effort too.

Prior to the sable-clad gent in the middle wobbling his pea (kinky blighter) No 10 (Matthew Ward) for the leading team was sin-binned (now where is the sense in that) and the hosts had one last angled hoof that was crap.  45 minute period done, there were still points to play for.

We stayed put for the break, it had been a long day so a check of other scores, a swill of some refreshing liquid and a chat was had.  Our pre-match predictions had already gone down and around the u-bend of hopelessness - we are consistent if nothing else.

Half two began with the sun still dazzling.  No 16 (Jamarley Rouse) for the hosts got stuck in and tested the opposing mitter who did well to block. The same team pushed and gushed with added fervor and a long ball came that saw Harrison gather, enter the box and be tumbled. No 10 (Craig Bannister) stepped up to do the honors and walloped the ball into the bottom corner.  The hosts were now full of life, vigor and belief, they came on again, a lengthy ball with 2 players chasing was the outcome but they were ultimately denied by a quick off the mark keeper.

The gathering impetus by the trailing unit was very impressive with most of the play now taking place in Abbey Hulton's defensive half. Time ticked on and a goal needed grabbing but the away team gradually got back into matters.  They survived a few semi-scares and then, from a seemingly innocuous position they swept forth with a ball finding Brown who shot on the turn and found the top corner of the meshing.  It was a glorious strike and surely sent his team into the final flourishes with all 3 points secure.

The latter stages saw the hosts lose cohesion, get worked up and allow Abbey Hulton to dictate.  Before the final whistle salt was rubbed in the wound when a swift break and cross saw Brown tap home and kill the result stone dead.  Time was called, some silliness and foul behaviour was observed, we pootled off and left them to it - life is too short to waste on piffle and there are far more important matters in the world.  Man of the Match went to Abbey Hulton's No 9 (Kieran Brown) who went home with a hat-trick of goals, a good work out under his belt and confidence high - he could have no complaints.

We decided to go for another walk after the game and see what we could see, you gotta get the most out of these 24 hour days tha' knows.

FINAL THOUGHTS - So, 2 teams in the embryonic stages of a new season and questions answered and some remaining to be solved.  Wolverhampton Sporting Community are with no points after 3 games and for me, look like a side who could find themselves in deep trouble before half the season is through.  Discipline needs attention, the width of play needs expanding and work on positional awareness is of paramount importance.  They may address these matters and turn a corner in good time but there is a glut of games ahead and rest assured, some teams will be adrift before they know it.  The positives are that there are a couple of players in the mix around which a good unit can be built.  Abbey Hulton looked good in parts today but, and this is a big but... the opposition allowed them to look good and so a false reading may be the outcome.  At times though the passing was sharp and the work-rate throughout was of a good standard.  Again, several players, if retained will keep them in good shape and if I was a gambling man I would maybe have this lot for a top 10 finish (or maybe higher).  One thing though, as neutrals we enjoyed the visit and were entertained - Non-League is the real deal.

END OF SEASON ROUND-UP

2023/2024 SEASON ROUND UP

Matches attended

69

Goals witnessed

212

Average goals per game

3.07

Highest scoring game

Garswood United 4 v 4 Whaley Bridge Athletic

Ten most seen teams

Maine Road FC 20

Cheadle Heath Nomads 9

Ashville FC 6

Cheadle Town 6

Wythenshawe FC 5

Stockport Town 5

Abbey Hey 3

Denton Town 3

Portland FC 2

Clitheroe FC 2

Raffles won

Fuck all (it is now just getting silly).

Match Reports Done - 16

End of season round-up

Well, with one thing and another (and another and another etc.) my arse has been dragged through another campaign with some decent football seen but all overshadowed by the loss of my good mate and touchline mucker STP Stu.  We were here, there and everywhere - chewing the cud, slurping brews, making awful predictions and chatting to anyone who cared to wag the jaw.  His passing was unexpected and knocked me for six and I stuttered and staggered but a few kind souls and equally kind words from some good folk in the game did their bit to keep me going - for that I am eternally grateful. It goes without saying that my missus is the eternal backbone of my life and has come to a few matches with me where she knew I would be lonely and duly struggle.  In life you can either buckle or kick back, it is an ongoing test and with aches and pains and an aging carcass that is playing up, matters are all the harder but...

and a fuckin' big 'but' at that... Non League Football is a good thing, it is deserved of support and even though some get embroiled in mindless machismo bullshit, seem to miss the beauty of the game and even bring into it their many idiot 'isms' I am still happy to skip around, do my bit and watch a game played for the love of it and with little long lasting glory (if any glory at all).  The two-bit wannabe Billy Big-Bollocks are cast aside and an embrace of the good folk and their earnest efforts is concentrated on and therein is reward itself.

Maine Road FC have, as per, provided great swathes of unpredictable entertainment and have many players who crack on, have a chat and are always welcoming.  I have a soft spot for this club that has built up over many years, it has been a pleasure to watch the capricious results and the head-scratching undulation of form - I reckon it is just the way it is and am ordering a good set of nerve tablets for next time around.

During the campaign we have visited a few new grounds with the Cheshire and Manchester Leagues throwing up some real winners due to their green settings and, once again, welcoming folk.  I am on the look-out for a new team to support the most next year and have a few in the mix, I will of course be doing the usual suspects though and striving to add variety - I can't be everywhere but I'll give it a ruddy good try.

Match of the season came at the end of the campaign with Garswood United and Whaley Bridge Athletic throwing up an absolute corker with the home manager Mr Lopez as welcoming as ever and making for a splendid day out - they may be one of my main teams next year due to this alone.

And on we go, a rest is needed and a time to regroup and catch up on gigs, reviews, the natural world, family goodness and of course, kicking back against the pricks and the cloying flow.  Big thanks to all who natter to this cantankerous tattooed twat - it is greatly received and keeps the game real, friendly and approachable.  My advice to all - do it, do it with respect and love and let your talents talk - here's to the next catch up, cheap brew and bewildering outcome. Up the underdogs - forever!

STRONG WIL'S PREVAIL

7th May 2024 - Wilmslow Albion 3 v 2 Leigh Genesis - As the season draws to a close it seems only apt that we try and get in a few grounds that we have overlooked this time around, and in fact, forever.  Wilmslow Albion are only 20 minutes from where we live, we have only been once before and the away team didn't turn up so, we thought we would try again.  The weather was perfect and after grabbing a cuppa we had a stroll and noted a few wildlife species.  There was vibrant verdant surroundings that have me pondering many returns where I can satisfy the nature needs, get my -Non-League fix and of course, enjoy a brew.  39 species was the total come game end, we also saw a few goals too and had a ruddy good time of it.  The crowd was not a crowd but a gathering of 8 people - I really do despair why folk are not off their arses supporting grassroots football - as per, there is a lot of talk, but little action - similar in fact to the love life of Clacton Flaccid - a man with great ideas but little in the way of love muscle to back it up - he is like many I know.  Thankfully I keep schtum, am a faithful man and decry wannabe shaggers, blaggers and non-promoting naggers.

And, after my slight foray into the realms of the nonsensical it was to the match.  Here folks, is what went on.

The opening spasms of the game were a trifle disjointed, there was great bustle, lots of whirring legs, ruddy faces and sweaty arses but... no real breakthroughs.  The first noteworthy flourish toward goal came via the guests No 18 (Josh Clarice) who went on a perspired wing run, delivered his cross with a cranium making the lightest of touches and No 20 (Sean Parry) arriving at the back post just a trifle too late.  In return to this the Wilmslow mob advanced but they were a trifle lax on the ball and any scent of danger blew on the spring night air.

 

Leigh Genesis came again, it was Clarice who was released with a touch on finding No 17 (Rob Boardman) who swivelled and let go a low spurter that lacked venom and so was easily snaffled up by the awaiting goalkeeper. Soon after another promising move came the same way with Parry moving matters on, Boardman crossing and Clarice having a decent dig - it was all irrelevant though as the referee signalled for an infringement.  Clarice for the guests had a few more sorties forth, the end product was lacking but the threats held promise.  

 

Minor skirmishes came at either end of the park without any composure shown.  The game rose in thermality but it needed one or two players to gain possession, control, think and play with purpose.  Clarice for Leigh was soon away again with the goal in his sights.  The keeper was left to be beat, the chance to blemish the night's score-free card was there but the shot was blazed high and looked to land on the nearby cricket pitch - Howzat - ooh me googlies.

 

From here we witnessed a swift move for the Albion with some in-box movement finally allowing No 9 (Kieren Casey) to have a pop at goal which was all rather weak.  No 10 (David Horan) was soon keen to improve on this effort with his own punt but the ball, that was struck from distance, was watched and caught by an ever-ready keeper.  Wilmslow were now on a roll, Casey touched on to Horan who took several looks at goal before a floating chip was executed with the ball gliding over the keeper and dropping into the net - a sugar sweet goal and a fine way to open the nights scoring account.

 

After a dreadful corner Leigh had a push with No 16 (Tamler Parkinson) and 8 (Tom Sims) linking up with the end shot lacking true zest... and accuracy.  The half wound down, an edginess was creeping in and I could feel the fumes of the coffee bean calling my name.  The half ended without any further incident, we went for a drink and a short wander.

 

The sun was cracking tonight, it was a shame hardly anyone had bothered to come and support some honest Non-League Football - I despair at times.  If the turd ain't polished and presented with great affect and piss-arse propaganda the majority don't seem to be able to motivate themselves.  As per, tis all about being seen in the right places, the hip places, the ones that satisfy the usual 'tick-box' needs - I am unswayed.

 

Half two began, it was a fractured beginning once again.  Leigh eventually had a flourish, a flank dash, a shot, a save and the follow-up buried - the joy was jumped on as an offside verdict was given.  A long ball for Leigh Genesis came next, No 11 (Dan Monaghan) was in and ready to level the game but the resident No 3 (Daanyaal Khan) put in a splendid tackle and followed up with some hard graft to completely quell the danger.

 

A free-kick for Leigh followed, Sims knocked in the globe which led to a Wilmslow break that, like the grooming qualities of Limp Lob Larry Braithwaite, promised much but resulted in no end thrill.  Leigh were quick to counter, a 3 touch move was delicious, Monaghan gathered and duly grabbed the leveler - it was truly deserved and put this game on a knife-edge (albeit a rather rusty knife that wasn't as sharp as it could be).  

 

The next action was quick in arriving (unlike the aforementioned Mr Braithwaite), Leigh cultivated a gratis-hoofing with a blasting taking place but the wall standing firm (Mr Braithewaite please take note).  No 7 (Rob Entwistle) for the same squad galloped forth next, put in a cross with the striker leaving it for a comrade but the home keeper reading matters well.  Leigh kept on pushing, the next goal may well be the match clincher.  Wilmslow were far from done, a cross came and the Leigh No 1 (Simon Morgan) missed it.  Entwistle waited for the ball to settle, got his nuts in a twist whilst trying to adjust his carcass and fell in a crumpled heap - the open goal was left unpenetrated and the guests breathed a sigh of great relief.

 

From here the hosts strode on, No 7 (Logan Gamble) passed to Horan, a shot came, the timber was trembled (phwoar) and No17 (Abdou Soumare) gobbled up the loose ball and snatched the lead goal.  There was now less than 20 minutes to play, the home No 8 (Jack Eaton) thrusted, entered the box and was tumbled - the referee wasted no time in giving a penalty.  Horan took responsibility and cracked in a low and solid strike - 3 - 1 - was that game done?

 

The guests were now scrambling around like vagabonds at a jumble sale, Wilsmlow looked to add a further kick in the opposing gonads with a corner won.  The delivery was sound but No 12's (Alfayad Barry) header was just shy of the mark.  Leigh bounced back, Parry laid off to Boardman who cracked off a superb shot that was wonderfully saved.  The ball was loose, Clarice was upended, another penalty the outcome.  Sims stepped up, the lead was now only 1 goal.

 

Leigh probed late on, a little luck was needed to just grab a share of the spoils.  Alas a slip nearly saw them throw the game completely away but their No 1 stood firm and kept matters alive.  This was all irrelevant however as the referee called a halt to the game and Wilmslow Albion strode off worthy winners.  Man of the Match was considered, I opted for Wilmslow Albion’s No 5 (Darrin Marcus) who had a little touch of class, a certain composure and a good quiet approach that made sure he was focused at all times.  A good example of Non-League doofing methinks.

 

FINAL THOUGHTS - A sunny night, 5 goals, a few wildlife examples, a quid for a coffee and some honest endeavour away from the claptrap of the big business bollocks that has poisoned the upper realms of this fine game - why on earth do more people not support this kind of sport?  Anyway - the 2 teams tonight worked hard, the pitch was firm and unforgiving and the outcome was perhaps the right result.  There is work to be done methinks - both teams need the all-important 'composure' factor - especially up front when chances need to be taken to make any inroads in what is a competitive league.  This is easier said than done, but communication and using the full space on the park is crucial.  Wilmslow's greatest asset seems to be defence, they battle well and go about their business with quiet authority.  Leigh have several busy bees in their midst with good vision and overall awareness, they just need to fine tune those killer touches at the apical end and I am sure matters will progress nicely.  Having said all this, we are in the midst of the Non-League nether regions where there are many predatory perverts waiting to pilfer any players with a suggestion of promise and thus leave teams scraping the barrel and always on the hunt to patch matters up.  It is what it is and let us face it, this is not about glory, it is just about the game - and so it should be!

PS - If any names are spelt incorrectly I do apologise but I make no apologies for some of the handwriting on the teamsheets - please see the headmaster!

A DATE WITH MICK'S KNUTS

4th May 2024 - St Michaels DHFC 1 v 1 Knutsford Town - Up and out to Stockton Heath we went.  My belfry was given a new artistic embellishment via the tattooing gent Callum of Dawson's Tattoo Company.  Today it was two Magic Mushrooms enhanced by a couple of love and anarchy signs - tha' gotta get thy ethics right tha' knows - this system has turned to shit, we need to seek more cranial anarchy and infuse more love (hey and I ain't a hippy).  From here we sought some food and had a fine breakfast, a good brew and a chat before heading to this nearby ground and seeing what the crack is. 

Upon arrival we were greeted by two of the home teams ruling guard and granted a free brew, how ruddy lovely.  We had a quick look around the perimeter of the playing surface and recorded (come game end) 33 wildlife species.  The set up looked splendid, the game was featuring two closely matched teams and I fancied a 2 - 2 draw.  We chose our viewing positions and soon after the teams entered the fray.  The clouds were grey, there was a chill waiting to nip at the nethers, I was hoping for some hot action to keep the thermal energy high.

The game opened up with the hosts having an early free-kick but Knutsford standing firm.  The opening sequences were tighter than the grip of a chimpanzee's fist on a sex banana with the home team, if anything, just shading matters.  The first shot of note came via the guests after No 4 (Graeme Brotherton) fed No 6 (Jonny Cavannagh) who turned quicker than Dr Jekyll and let fly a punt that only warmed the palms of the awaiting No 1 (Ryan Cornes). A swift break came, a ball out wide and a touch placement pass saw SMDH No 8 (Connor Wood) chance his shank with the shot getting deflected wide.  The corner was awful. 

From here we witnessed a free-kick come the Knutsford way with another poor delivery had.  The game was hard to call as things stood with the first strike gaining in importance by the second.  Cavannagh for the Knutty Boys tried to grab the opener soon after but the low dandelion decapitator was straight at the watchful mittman.  Boo hiss, up the weeds!
 
After more constipated midfield battling Knutsford eventually strung a  few passes together that ended with an in-box collision.  The whistle-wielding man in the middle wasted no time in awarding a penalty, a decision I thought to be a trifle harsh. Cavannagh stepped up to take the spot kick and absolutely nailed it - the game was crying out for a strike, now matters would hopefully develop further and with heightened excitement.
 
The St Michaels crew now dug a little deeper, the reaction was good but all advances just lacked that final masterclass quality.  The half raced away, the hosts tried to force their way back into this one but the guests were niggardly and remained a quite watertight unit.  Little in the way of enthusing action came and so the nib of my pen was allowed a rest from paper scrawling duties - a coffee was needed and when the referee called a halt to the first 45 full advantage was taken.
 
A brew, a wander, a stretch.  This was a darn good area to watch a game of football and  the verdant surroundings were not wasted on our roving eyes.  It looked as though the list of grounds to revisit was growing, these 52 weeks in a year and limited seasons are in no way helpful to the eternally keen - I best get myself a ruddy diary.
 
And to half 2 with Knutsford straight on it via their No 2 (Harrison Wooley) who put in a low cross that Cavannagh connected with but failed to steer the ball past the mitter.  Straight down the other end we went, Wood tried to place a shot and get matters all squared up but the globe looked to be more interested in staying airborne and floated over the bar.  St Michaels now worked up a great lather, a corner was won but the execution was too complicated for the team's own good.  
 
Onus was now on the hosts to speed matters up and bag that equaliser whilst being wary enough not to concede a second.  Talking of which - No 22 (Brandon Blades) of the visitors had two efforts that nearly knocked the stuffing out of the opposing ranks but thankfully both efforts failed to penetrate the meshing.  A long ball by the SMDH team saw No 16 (Jack Hunter) connect with his bonce and the ball go past the keeper and bounce towards the goal.  Alas for all the home faithful a Knutsford defender was there who knocked behind for a corner from which there was little end product.
 
As a quartet of Greenfinches flew by, my eyes were distracted.  I looked back to the pitch to see a SMDH flick pass release Wood who was left with an option to shoot.  The option was indeed taken and a superb rasper-jasper of choice quality was the result with the game now all on a par.
 
The home lads now increased the threat, No 10 (Ben Mahoney) was out wide, touched the ball back to No 2 (Matthew Watts) with the ensuing shot going over the bar.  No 7 (Dominic Brereton) had a pop from the angle mere minutes later, the result was just off target.  With tails up the hosts pushed the issue, a free-kick followed, No 5 (Connor Greenfield) posted a turf-grazing drive that was mighty close to snatching the lead.  Knutsford had a brief moment of respite when a corner was won, the ball was knocked straight out of play and a player collided with the upright and needed a few minutes to recover.  Thankfully the young fellow was fine and dandy.
 
The game continued, the St Michaels lads pressed with a move that opened up the Knutsford ranks like a tin of Bartlett Pears.  Brereton was the apical component, the shot that came was too high, in truth it should have been better. The game was now wide open, the hosts worked positions and had several digs at the target but each and every one lacked true zip and, the all important 'accuracy' factor. Watts had a great chance but the header was at the keeper and then No 12 (Charlie Rodick) had a dig from the angle for Knutsford but the ball just flew across the face of the goal.  
 
Into the dog ends of the game we dropped, little in the way of a glorious chance came until Blades for Knutsford had a pop from the mush with a header off the line, saving the hosts bacon and eventually proving to be a real life saver as the game ended all square soon after.  This had been a good contest with two perfectly matched outfits.  The Man of the Match was a difficult prospect but going on all round consistency during the game I think Knutsford's No 6 (Jonny Cavannagh) deserves the nod.  A footballing brain at work and always looking to keep his team controlled, organised and making the most of all options.  Tidy work.
 
FINAL THOUGHTS - And so, another game done, another new ground visited and some wildlife recorded.  What more could one ask - a warm welcome, decent weather, a well-balanced game - ah yes - how about a Chesterfield Sofa on which to watch the game, free champagne and a free ride on a homosexual ostrich at half-time.  hey ho.
 
The teams today looked to be both decent units for this level and I would be very much surprised if anyone gave them a real whipping. It was though, perhaps in an oh so subtle way, a game of two halves.  Knutsford had the better of the first 45 and if they could have bagged a second strike then maybe, just maybe, 3 points could have been theirs.  This team have gone through many highs and lows, they are doing ok this time around and have recently bagged a cup.  Some good souls run this club, here's to consistency, success and a bit of luck as per.  St Michaels DHFC have a good set up here and it is backed up by a tidy team on the park.  They started very slowly today and like an arthritic after a night in bed with a rectal raver, just couldn't get going.  They warmed up nicely for the second stint though and looked very good value for grabbing the full prize for their efforts.  Alas the shooting boots were left unpolished and they had to settle for a decent, and a fair, draw.  As said, we gotta get back here and support a good set up - I am stretched so thinly I am almost transparent - cripes imagine that - a see through scrotum - ooh I could keep my pet fish in it - splash, splash - whoosh.