7th May 2018 - New Mills 2 v 2 Chadderton - The sun is making an exhibition of itself and adding a feel-good factor to these end of season matches. Due to pondering the hazards of busy roads we decided to have a morning birdwatching at Carrington Moss and then go to a match that avoided motorway mayhem and any great distance. The walk was grand, hardly anyone around, a few birds, butterflies, bugs and blooms seen and all in superb weather - can't fault it. We headed home, had dinner, I typed up the wildlife lists and lounged about and then...we headed out. Arriving in good time tea and snacks were had, a nice shaded spot chosen and arses were parked. This match had everything set up for the teams to played relaxed football and just express themselves - if that was going to be the case it should be a cracker...we were certainly hoping so.
The commencement was a quiet affair, the Chad's were having the better of the early exchanges and eventually won the first corner although the hoof in was straight into the keepers reaching mitts. A long ball soon after saw the home No 6 (Jack Miller) who was forced into an error and committed a clumsy foul. No 8 (Jack Ward) took the responsibility of the kick, partook of a simple crack and found the net whilst the home heads were seemingly contemplating their navels. From this surprising moment Chadderton still dictated matters and passed the ball with greatest effect. New Mills found their first taste of promise when No 11 (George Blackwell) knocked a great ball to No 9 (Dennis Sherriff) who collected and hit a low cross that was disappointingly void of any takers - a pity! From here little else happened as the match plodded on, the baked pitch meant control was difficult and the heat was certainly a factor at this stage of a long campaign. Suddenly No 10 (Jake Pollard) for the home lads was in with a chance. A daisy-cutting shot came, the mitter read it well, sprawled low and pushed the ball wide. From the corner Blackwell thumped a sizzler, a defender impeded the effort on the line and belted clear, a drink break followed.
After liquids were swilled the Chadderton mob took hold of the reins and had the first surge. A corner was had, it was nutted clear, put back in and an offside rule dampened any growing excitement. New Mills reacted with a corner of their own, the delivery was sweet, No 4 put his angled nut over the bar. The Millers pushed again with pace, the ball bobbled between every pass but eventually ended up at the feet of No 8 (Jack McConnell) who struck low and firm and found the inside near post. A decent equalising dig, time for another drinks break - it was a hot un', that's for sure - thank goodness for those rectal ice-cubes I acquired 5 minutes before kick-off. Ok, they may of melted and my rear was sopping wet but man I was as cool as a cucumber in a fridge - nice! Into the last 10 minutes of the first half we went, the NM boys were playing better but the Chadderton No 2 (Joseph Richards) nearly pissed on their warming chips with a cracking ball that No 10 (Matthew Wilkinson) nearly connected with - the mitter was just too quick and booted clear with relief. Chadderton now built with patience, Ward was an intricate component in a clockwork move. A final ball came in, No 9 (Bradley Kay) rose with authority and clobbered home with his bonse, a purist goal for sure and a great way to regain the lead. The last dregs of this period saw Ward bend one wide for the visitors and New Mills put together a choice move with No 7 (Samuel Marshall) busting a bollock, passing to Blackwell out wide who laid one off for Pollard to eagerly thwack over - and we were done!
Half-Time - we couldn't be arsed to move and checked other scores. One of my local teams Maine Road looked doomed, 3 - 0 and only a victory would save their chuffs - not a way to spend a sunny afternoon. The teams soon came back out, onwards!
The start to this second period was bright, a free-kick for the hosts saw McConnell take and only place into the awaiting keepers arms. His team were showing a better intensity though, a long ball from No 12 (Jack Beswick) put Blackwell in who shot and forced a solid, low save. Chadderton grew into the half and subdued their opponent's ambitions whilst protecting their narrow lead. From a New Mills push Chaddy broke, Ward to Kay who was denied by a defender, the question arose - was the tackle legal? A ball in, a dig by Ward brought no further success to the Chadderton side of the scorecard and up the other end Blackwell had a shout for a penalty but was refused his claim. Another attack came, I was distracted by a Speckled Wood butterfly (my fave) but looked up in time to see a quick pass and the ball fly home via Samuel Marshall who got just reward for some decent labour. We were back to all square and now the New Mills outfit worked better and McConnell had a low drive soon after, one that was only collected by the keeper at the second attempt, there really should have been some in-rushing 'erberts - you just never know!
Into the last 10 minutes we went, a late spark was nearly added when Chaddy's No 11 (Jack O'Leary) turned in the box and fired. A deflection led to a corner, the ball in was good and found the crust of the in-flying No 3 (James Dwyer) who should have hit the target but nutted way too high. Marshall was put through at the opposite end, he raced and shot close-in but the visiting No 1 (Daniel Havern) spread and blocked well. The ball went loose, Blackwell fired forth and a great follow-up block by the mittman was had, fine action indeed. McConnell for the Millers raised the next hopes with a superb dissecting ball and as 2 colleagues chased it was with high disappointment that the linesman was seen to be waving for offside - what a rotter! New Mills had 2 corners at the death, the second saw Pollard blaze one...over. Soon after we were done, it hadn't been the greatest match but we had been treated to a competitive contest and had 4 goals thrown in for good measure. Man of the match goes to the high energy and busy bee bod of New Mill's, namely their No 7 (Samuel Marshall). He worked until the last and as the game progressed his effect became more apparent. We went home with match 102 of the season under the belt, only a few left now, crikey!
FINAL THOUGHT - A clash of 2 teams who have had a below average season and who both need to now get done and dusted and look forward to the next campaign. Chadderton play some fine football at times, they need a good pitch on which to perform and to maintain a sizzling intensity that is counterbalanced by controlled thinking and some composed movement that finds good space is used to its maximum potential. Easy to say from the touchline but it can be done. New Mills are an odd commodity who seem to play many matches with a Jekyll and Hyde style. They have periods that really please the eye and put teams under the cosh and then have moments where a mental blanket seems to snuff out ideas and creativity which sees a whole lot of effort produce nothing. This can be addressed by communication and a few leaders in the pack keeping all heads alert - again just the thoughts of a punter enjoying the game and wishing all the best. I like my jaunts to New Mills, tis a right pleasant place to watch the glorious game, and...as in the words of Fumanchu - 'I shall return', along with my very own bride of course, who ain't evil in anyway but an all round good un'.
Tuesday, 8 May 2018
Sunday, 6 May 2018
SQUIRES FATE
5th May 2018 - Squires Gate 0 v 3 1874 Northwich - An early start and some birding at Marton Mere, then some more at Stanley Park and then up to Kincraig Lake for another wander and a Cornetto from the local Spar. Great views of Cetti's Warbler, Wood Warbler and Black Necked Grebe were had and 13,500 steps clocked up too. Eventually, after a quick pop in a Garden Centre we arrived at the car park of the ground and spent 40 minutes sprawled on some grass soaking up a few solars. 2pm arrived, in we went and had a cup of tea and a bag of crisps apiece whilst chatting to our dancing lass in London. To the opposite side of the ground we went and wagged the mandible with a few fine 74 fans who were both knowledgeable and proud as punch of the team's campaign. I made a prediction of 2 - 2, one grand fellow went for 2 - 1 to his beloved visiting team, my wife kept schtum - I think she knows this game only too well. Final viewing positions were eventually taken, the teams came out onto the sun-kissed green, 2 Oystercatchers piped overhead and a Small Tortoisehell and Orange Tip butterfly fluttered by and, like we two Non-League 'erberts, remained neutral. I fancied a close encounter - I just hoped it wasn't going to be of the 'turd kind'.
Both teams started well, No 4 (Tarren Moxon) and No 7 (Ryan Riley) combined well for the hosts, the visiting defence scampered well and remained controlled whilst under early pressure. From the rear the 74 mob sliced their way forward, No 2 (Paul Connor) and No 7 (Ryan Jackson) copulated control that gave birth to a ball to No 6 (Sam Freakes) who delivered a shot first time. The home No 1 (Benjamin Fletcher) was wide awake and made a highly admirable save. The corner came, No 10 (Scott McGowan ) had a punt fly over and then No 9 (Kyle Riley) used good strength in the box, turned and knocked in a substantial shot and was denied by the quite impressive mittman. The SG brigade ran hard, No 11 (Finley Clarkson) was farting fire in his efforts to offer a release valve whilst the guests passed with purpose and duly sprayed the ball from one side of the park to the other. One such move saw a temptation laden cross come via the feet of Jackson and drop from the flank to the opposite post Connor popped up and nutted across goal at an angle that saw the ball go behind. Jackson came again soon after, winning and executing a free-kick that saw the crust of No 5 (Ryan Mitchell) make contact but not enough to trouble the sanguine protector of the mesh. In retaliation to this ascending heat the Squires had two corners granted, the first had an awful delivery but had to be retaken and was done so with added quality. The guest gloved one read it well and gathered with ease. Jackson for 1874 had more to add and went on a grand flank frolic before putting in a ball to Riley who shot with untamed fervour and nearly killed one of the aforementioned Oystercatchers (unforgivable on all fronts). A free-kick by Jackson came soon after, it passed over the Poa with pace and bent but went outside of the upright rather than inside!
We were over halfway through the first half, now the hosts came on, Clarkson was still busting a gonad (or two) and then a cracking run came from No 10 (Scott Harries) who dinked a cross to No 9 (Gary Pett) who took it on his chest, shot and grazed the crossbar - great action for sure. Riley advanced next, the Northwich players backed off, time was had to shoot from a middling distance, a good effort just missed, the home lads where getting closer. As home hopes rose a long ball went down the other end, No 11 (Samuel Hind) eventually received in the box, was crowded out but somehow found room to turn, belt and bring up the first goal. It was a clinical finish that added extra spice into an already tasty dish - how would the hosts respond? Soon after I was distracted by a passing Orange Tip butterfly and when I looked up saw Squires Gate answer my previous poser with a swift attack that saw a shot blaze in just wide of the far upright. An 1874 error followed, Pett of The Gate advanced but was denied by an off-the-line keeper. A corner followed, Pett rose and nutted, the ball went over. The guests regrouped, Riley displayed good strength on the end line, unselfishly crossed and saw Hind fly in but have legs too short to make that crucial touch. The end wound down and out with the SG lads having several more crosses, some good passing sequences and the odd shot produce no genuine threat and McGowan up the other end came close but also failed to achieve killer triumph. The ref called a halt, it had been a good un'.
Half-time, a chat with a few decent folk, a stroll and a cup of grand cha'. No matter what the weather, tea is the drink of the Gods, they partake regularly on Mount Tetley whilst munching on Ambrosia dipped chips and scratching their sagacious arses - it is an example to follow.
The second half soon began, we had not won the football card, a gamble taken after an offer by a keen fella who was doing the circuit of the pitch and also on tannoy duties - tis a busy life. The half began with the Squires applying good thermality, a huge push inspired no doubt by the two hairless hollerers on the bench who were playing havoc with my eardrums but giving good value for money nonetheless. The first hopes were raised by the home team as a stunning crossfield ball saw Harries work hard and apply a pass that Pett latched onto and released only to see a deflection knock it wide. The corner went straight into the goalkeepers hands but soon after the same two players linked up with Pett shooting and bringing about a quite efficient save. The first action came up the other end (ooh missus) when Freakes put a careless shot off the mark and then a free-kick eventually led to a ball in from Jackson that saw Hind ascend and headbutt home and double his sides lead. This was a kick in the conkers for the striving residents, a real sickener but they responded immediately with a beautiful cross finding Harries' head that allowed a follow-up attacker to arrive just too late. Another ball in, Pett nutted over and then 74 counterpunched with sizzling intensity and Hind fly the wing and put in a very pace-heavy cross. McGowan hammered in and put his bonse on the ball but it was too quick and pinged off target.
From here the home lads had most of the possession, they passed and played with perspired passion but the end delivery and final decision were lacking in quality and so through much sweat, little success was borne. 2 great strikes did eventually come, the first was by Moxon but he was denied celebration by a top notch save that needed quickly recovering from as a follow-up attempt was also effectively blocked. Excellent work form the man between the posts, No 1 (Greg Hall) take a bow. The game entered the final stretch, SG still pushed, had the odd effort and worked well in midfield but the visiting unit remained well-drilled and barely gave a clear view of the well-protected goal and always held a certain threat. This threat duly blossomed and, after much absorption of hustle and bustle, Northwich broke with pace No 14 (Shelton Payne) exhibited some robust determination, crossed and up stepped No 15 (Jake Parker) to tap in - how ruddy cruel can this game be. Soon after the game was brought to an end, it was just as well, I am sure that if the Squires Gate lads indulged in a coin tossing game 9 times out of 10 the coin would land on its side and the other time it would roll away and fall down a nearby shit-filled grid. It was one of those days! Man of the Match today goes to the 1874 Northwich's No 3 (Daniel Thomas) who started on the edge but soon settled down and became a quite reliable facet at the rear and who contributed in many ways to the oh so precious cleansheet. A subtle but mightily effective performance and played with a good quiet and head-down focus - I always appreciate that!
FINAL THOUGHT - Please tell me how this match ended up at 0 - 3? How the hell can one team work so hard and have so much possession and trudge off with sour FA to show for it? Tis a mad game, no wonder those two buggers on the Squires Gate bench are lacking in hair - tis a ruddy stressful game that is for sure! In truth the difference was the final execution and when 1874 had a sniff of goal they caused mayhem and buried whereas the hosts seemed to lack a clinical touch and make the wrong decision at the most crucial time. The team however have much potential and are never going to be a push-over for any opponent and have much quality to cultivate further and perhaps make serious waves in the next campaign. 1874 Northwich were my tip for the title this time around and I reckon they wouldn't have been far off if it wasn't for one helluva hectic calendar. Next time around I think this lot and Runcorn Town are sure-fire favourites with the City of Liverpool and Bootle in a very interesting mix. It will be a fascinating season and will all come down to consistency and a killer touch in front of goal, something 1874 Northwich have in abundance - as ever, the Non-League scene never fails to fascinate.
Both teams started well, No 4 (Tarren Moxon) and No 7 (Ryan Riley) combined well for the hosts, the visiting defence scampered well and remained controlled whilst under early pressure. From the rear the 74 mob sliced their way forward, No 2 (Paul Connor) and No 7 (Ryan Jackson) copulated control that gave birth to a ball to No 6 (Sam Freakes) who delivered a shot first time. The home No 1 (Benjamin Fletcher) was wide awake and made a highly admirable save. The corner came, No 10 (Scott McGowan ) had a punt fly over and then No 9 (Kyle Riley) used good strength in the box, turned and knocked in a substantial shot and was denied by the quite impressive mittman. The SG brigade ran hard, No 11 (Finley Clarkson) was farting fire in his efforts to offer a release valve whilst the guests passed with purpose and duly sprayed the ball from one side of the park to the other. One such move saw a temptation laden cross come via the feet of Jackson and drop from the flank to the opposite post Connor popped up and nutted across goal at an angle that saw the ball go behind. Jackson came again soon after, winning and executing a free-kick that saw the crust of No 5 (Ryan Mitchell) make contact but not enough to trouble the sanguine protector of the mesh. In retaliation to this ascending heat the Squires had two corners granted, the first had an awful delivery but had to be retaken and was done so with added quality. The guest gloved one read it well and gathered with ease. Jackson for 1874 had more to add and went on a grand flank frolic before putting in a ball to Riley who shot with untamed fervour and nearly killed one of the aforementioned Oystercatchers (unforgivable on all fronts). A free-kick by Jackson came soon after, it passed over the Poa with pace and bent but went outside of the upright rather than inside!
We were over halfway through the first half, now the hosts came on, Clarkson was still busting a gonad (or two) and then a cracking run came from No 10 (Scott Harries) who dinked a cross to No 9 (Gary Pett) who took it on his chest, shot and grazed the crossbar - great action for sure. Riley advanced next, the Northwich players backed off, time was had to shoot from a middling distance, a good effort just missed, the home lads where getting closer. As home hopes rose a long ball went down the other end, No 11 (Samuel Hind) eventually received in the box, was crowded out but somehow found room to turn, belt and bring up the first goal. It was a clinical finish that added extra spice into an already tasty dish - how would the hosts respond? Soon after I was distracted by a passing Orange Tip butterfly and when I looked up saw Squires Gate answer my previous poser with a swift attack that saw a shot blaze in just wide of the far upright. An 1874 error followed, Pett of The Gate advanced but was denied by an off-the-line keeper. A corner followed, Pett rose and nutted, the ball went over. The guests regrouped, Riley displayed good strength on the end line, unselfishly crossed and saw Hind fly in but have legs too short to make that crucial touch. The end wound down and out with the SG lads having several more crosses, some good passing sequences and the odd shot produce no genuine threat and McGowan up the other end came close but also failed to achieve killer triumph. The ref called a halt, it had been a good un'.
Half-time, a chat with a few decent folk, a stroll and a cup of grand cha'. No matter what the weather, tea is the drink of the Gods, they partake regularly on Mount Tetley whilst munching on Ambrosia dipped chips and scratching their sagacious arses - it is an example to follow.
The second half soon began, we had not won the football card, a gamble taken after an offer by a keen fella who was doing the circuit of the pitch and also on tannoy duties - tis a busy life. The half began with the Squires applying good thermality, a huge push inspired no doubt by the two hairless hollerers on the bench who were playing havoc with my eardrums but giving good value for money nonetheless. The first hopes were raised by the home team as a stunning crossfield ball saw Harries work hard and apply a pass that Pett latched onto and released only to see a deflection knock it wide. The corner went straight into the goalkeepers hands but soon after the same two players linked up with Pett shooting and bringing about a quite efficient save. The first action came up the other end (ooh missus) when Freakes put a careless shot off the mark and then a free-kick eventually led to a ball in from Jackson that saw Hind ascend and headbutt home and double his sides lead. This was a kick in the conkers for the striving residents, a real sickener but they responded immediately with a beautiful cross finding Harries' head that allowed a follow-up attacker to arrive just too late. Another ball in, Pett nutted over and then 74 counterpunched with sizzling intensity and Hind fly the wing and put in a very pace-heavy cross. McGowan hammered in and put his bonse on the ball but it was too quick and pinged off target.
From here the home lads had most of the possession, they passed and played with perspired passion but the end delivery and final decision were lacking in quality and so through much sweat, little success was borne. 2 great strikes did eventually come, the first was by Moxon but he was denied celebration by a top notch save that needed quickly recovering from as a follow-up attempt was also effectively blocked. Excellent work form the man between the posts, No 1 (Greg Hall) take a bow. The game entered the final stretch, SG still pushed, had the odd effort and worked well in midfield but the visiting unit remained well-drilled and barely gave a clear view of the well-protected goal and always held a certain threat. This threat duly blossomed and, after much absorption of hustle and bustle, Northwich broke with pace No 14 (Shelton Payne) exhibited some robust determination, crossed and up stepped No 15 (Jake Parker) to tap in - how ruddy cruel can this game be. Soon after the game was brought to an end, it was just as well, I am sure that if the Squires Gate lads indulged in a coin tossing game 9 times out of 10 the coin would land on its side and the other time it would roll away and fall down a nearby shit-filled grid. It was one of those days! Man of the Match today goes to the 1874 Northwich's No 3 (Daniel Thomas) who started on the edge but soon settled down and became a quite reliable facet at the rear and who contributed in many ways to the oh so precious cleansheet. A subtle but mightily effective performance and played with a good quiet and head-down focus - I always appreciate that!
FINAL THOUGHT - Please tell me how this match ended up at 0 - 3? How the hell can one team work so hard and have so much possession and trudge off with sour FA to show for it? Tis a mad game, no wonder those two buggers on the Squires Gate bench are lacking in hair - tis a ruddy stressful game that is for sure! In truth the difference was the final execution and when 1874 had a sniff of goal they caused mayhem and buried whereas the hosts seemed to lack a clinical touch and make the wrong decision at the most crucial time. The team however have much potential and are never going to be a push-over for any opponent and have much quality to cultivate further and perhaps make serious waves in the next campaign. 1874 Northwich were my tip for the title this time around and I reckon they wouldn't have been far off if it wasn't for one helluva hectic calendar. Next time around I think this lot and Runcorn Town are sure-fire favourites with the City of Liverpool and Bootle in a very interesting mix. It will be a fascinating season and will all come down to consistency and a killer touch in front of goal, something 1874 Northwich have in abundance - as ever, the Non-League scene never fails to fascinate.
Friday, 4 May 2018
TON UP
3rd May 2018 - Linotype Cheadle Heath Nomads 2 v 1 Rylands FC - So, the nearest ground to where I live was visited again, a mere 10 minute stroll and I can get from front door to ground without a bead of sweat on the brow and keeping the crack of the arse as dry as the skin of Mary Berry (cripes). Tonight my good lady escorted me, it was a special occasion - my 100th match of the campaign, a season that has seen me pootle about like Mrs Honeyman on amphetamines, scribble away like a manic Samuel Pepys and freeze my knackers on more night's than I care to remember. I am happy with the effort though but next year will stick to my regulation 60 matches and so catch up on other fronts. It must be added also that my good lady has done her fair whack too and easily clocked up more than 60 matches - she's a gem. Despite being an easy option I like tonight's venue and will certainly be doing my fair share in the future, a future which looks to have much potential brightness for a club very much in the shadows. Tonight I didn't know what the outcome would be, it had been a busy season, many tired legs amid the backlog of matches and the summer break in sight, one thing though, both units would be giving it their all, I appreciate that! And so to the important game...
No sooner had the ball been initially booted than a hopeful Nomadic punt was lofted forth and No 10 (Leon Grandison) was in. Alas he suffered an early attack of 'What-the-fuck-itis' and chipped over the keeper with hurried hope rather than composed control. The ball, as a result, went over the bar rather than under it - the guests inhaled a deep breath and looked to settle down. The Nomads applied persistent pressure, No 4 (Ash Crank) was sending in some very measured and searching balls that asked many questions of the visiting defence. Rylands were answering back well, but all the while were being kept on their guard and given no room to dwell. Suddenly, against the flow, the visiting team won a corner but, disappointingly, the execution was shabby in the extreme and the brief flash of hope dissolved into a transient cloud of 'sour FA'. A free-kick came at the other end, No 11 (Joe Campbell) put in a quality delivery, the keeper fisted with equal quality (ooh the rum bugger) and it was the start of a very manic period with both teams up and at it with appealing vigor. The Nomads advanced with purpose, No 7 (Craig Coates) with a sublime tester that saw No 9 (Rick Tindall) chase like a rabbit on heat. He looked to be in and ready to fire when a sterling tackle came via the visiting No 5 (Harrison Green). The match continued to be competitive and non-stop, there was hardly any room to get a shot away as both units worked with industry. Grandison did mightily well to eventually find some space and shoot but the ball had more swing than the pendulous knackers of Duke Ellington after that infamous accident with the piano stool.
Still no goals, still intrigue was high, a Linotype ball was tossed forth, Tindall the Terrorisor was fighting away and found himself having 2 close-in shots blocked before No 5 (Jon Rand) found himself in a striker's position, duly shit himself and shot like a rubber-legged defender with plastic knees and two-glass eyes. The ball went, unsurprisingly, off-target much to the amusement of a few of his colleagues on the bench (it was a shocker if the truth be told). Next and No 8 (Terence Butler) and Tindall combined in the box (surely they could end up in court for this kind of behaviour), it was a lovely passing sequence with the latter player having the final shot. Nice try, no bacon butty of success I am afraid. Soon after The Tin Man (who has plenty of heart) was causing havoc again with Campbell backing matters up and winning a corner. The ball in was decent enough, the mitter had sticky hands and caught with confidence. Rylands brought brief respite with a toothless pootle before Cheadle put together a stunning move that started at the back, worked briskly through midfield and ended with Grandison having a close in effort wonderfully stopped by a quick reacting No 1 (Connor Yarwood). A corner followed, a nut in came and No 4 (Chris Brown) for Rylands was in the right place at the right time and duly cleared. A late angled kick for Rylands saw defensive confusion but the Nomads survived and then resisted another push with Grandison pilfering the ball, losing his marker and crossing and allowing Tindall to nip in and tap home. The half was soon done, the goal was cracking reward for some excellent effort - 1 -0 to the Nomads, what will the second half bring?
The break was spent roaming to the clubhouse, obtaining a cup of tea (thank ye kind people for the drinks) and a chat with a few friendly faces. My wife had left her handbag where we were sat so we had to pootle back with pace, all was well, we awaited the teams and looked forward to the completion of a fascinating contest.
The second period saw the travelers come out and blaze an early trail, they were working up a good lather in their endeavour to sneak back into this one. A free-kick was won, it had thrust but no cut, too high and no pace, the keeper plucked it out of the air like a gibbon catching an orange. The Nomads eventually re-settled themselves but a minor black-out by the midfield pack allowed No 10 (Lee Vaughan) to escape and zone in on goal. He stayed composed, eyed his spot and buried the ball with reliable firmness. 1 - 1 - a shocker for sure but reward for sticking at the task at hand and digging deeper than Howard Carter searching for one of Tutenkhamun's nipple rings.
A stodgy period followed after a pause for a clattered player and a home substitution. The half had settled quicker than a pint of Robinson's bitter (piss water to the uninitiated) and it became a case of which team wanted it more. Rylands burst forth, one of the subs flew down the flank and crossed to No 2 (Chris McShane) who was over-excited and fired way too high. A gratis boot was given the way of the hosts, Butler clonked one in, the keeper was watertight and held the globe like a mother with a new-born bairn. The Linotype lads rebuilt, No 12 (Ben Connolly) supplied a fine cross, it just missed that oh so crucial killer connection. Rylands stood firm but another angled punt followed. The ball was whisked across the goal mouth, all heads missed it but Rand was the man at the back post and slotted home to give his team the crucial advantage. Crikey, what a great time to steal the show! This fine and dandy moment led to some foul gobbery by the mittman who received a yellow, kept on the spillage of filth and was given his marching orders. He ranted and raved but it was wasted breath, the rules are there and the rules were followed, a trifle pedantic perhaps but hey, these things happen. The guests, now down to 10 men, tried to make the best of matters with No 9 (Daniel Sisson) connecting with a corner but only finding air instead of net. The time ticked away, The Nomads managed matters well and saw out the dregs and bagged yet another 3 points. Man of the Match must go to the home No 5 (Jon Rand) who was as solid as a sun-baked turd throughout, who was as watertight as Duncan Goodhew's arse and who dealt with more balls than Dr Testicle at his home-run Genital clinic - a cracking effort lad.
FINAL THOUGHT - And once more The Linotype Cheadle Heath Nomads have blessed my eyes with a victory and put in another raw-boned, honesty-riddled performance that will certainly fill them with confidence for the last few matches of the season and, of course, next seasons fresh challenge. They have many good players, knock the ball about with good pace and efficiency and for me at least, the only thing lacking is a bit of movement off the ball and a stretching of their opponents over the full width of the pitch. It is a minor suggestion but hey, they are doing ruddy well at the moment and although making things more difficult than they should be, they keep on winning. Rylands look a half decent prospect but need a bit of tweaking and twanging here and there with a greater direction had within the main engine of the machine. They were certainly up against it tonight but displayed a good resilience and, when the chance arose, pinched a goal and put the end result in definite doubt. They are currently sitting second bottom, I reckon before the season is done they will be jumping up several places and gaining a bit more respectability - well, here's hoping anyway!
No sooner had the ball been initially booted than a hopeful Nomadic punt was lofted forth and No 10 (Leon Grandison) was in. Alas he suffered an early attack of 'What-the-fuck-itis' and chipped over the keeper with hurried hope rather than composed control. The ball, as a result, went over the bar rather than under it - the guests inhaled a deep breath and looked to settle down. The Nomads applied persistent pressure, No 4 (Ash Crank) was sending in some very measured and searching balls that asked many questions of the visiting defence. Rylands were answering back well, but all the while were being kept on their guard and given no room to dwell. Suddenly, against the flow, the visiting team won a corner but, disappointingly, the execution was shabby in the extreme and the brief flash of hope dissolved into a transient cloud of 'sour FA'. A free-kick came at the other end, No 11 (Joe Campbell) put in a quality delivery, the keeper fisted with equal quality (ooh the rum bugger) and it was the start of a very manic period with both teams up and at it with appealing vigor. The Nomads advanced with purpose, No 7 (Craig Coates) with a sublime tester that saw No 9 (Rick Tindall) chase like a rabbit on heat. He looked to be in and ready to fire when a sterling tackle came via the visiting No 5 (Harrison Green). The match continued to be competitive and non-stop, there was hardly any room to get a shot away as both units worked with industry. Grandison did mightily well to eventually find some space and shoot but the ball had more swing than the pendulous knackers of Duke Ellington after that infamous accident with the piano stool.
Still no goals, still intrigue was high, a Linotype ball was tossed forth, Tindall the Terrorisor was fighting away and found himself having 2 close-in shots blocked before No 5 (Jon Rand) found himself in a striker's position, duly shit himself and shot like a rubber-legged defender with plastic knees and two-glass eyes. The ball went, unsurprisingly, off-target much to the amusement of a few of his colleagues on the bench (it was a shocker if the truth be told). Next and No 8 (Terence Butler) and Tindall combined in the box (surely they could end up in court for this kind of behaviour), it was a lovely passing sequence with the latter player having the final shot. Nice try, no bacon butty of success I am afraid. Soon after The Tin Man (who has plenty of heart) was causing havoc again with Campbell backing matters up and winning a corner. The ball in was decent enough, the mitter had sticky hands and caught with confidence. Rylands brought brief respite with a toothless pootle before Cheadle put together a stunning move that started at the back, worked briskly through midfield and ended with Grandison having a close in effort wonderfully stopped by a quick reacting No 1 (Connor Yarwood). A corner followed, a nut in came and No 4 (Chris Brown) for Rylands was in the right place at the right time and duly cleared. A late angled kick for Rylands saw defensive confusion but the Nomads survived and then resisted another push with Grandison pilfering the ball, losing his marker and crossing and allowing Tindall to nip in and tap home. The half was soon done, the goal was cracking reward for some excellent effort - 1 -0 to the Nomads, what will the second half bring?
The break was spent roaming to the clubhouse, obtaining a cup of tea (thank ye kind people for the drinks) and a chat with a few friendly faces. My wife had left her handbag where we were sat so we had to pootle back with pace, all was well, we awaited the teams and looked forward to the completion of a fascinating contest.
The second period saw the travelers come out and blaze an early trail, they were working up a good lather in their endeavour to sneak back into this one. A free-kick was won, it had thrust but no cut, too high and no pace, the keeper plucked it out of the air like a gibbon catching an orange. The Nomads eventually re-settled themselves but a minor black-out by the midfield pack allowed No 10 (Lee Vaughan) to escape and zone in on goal. He stayed composed, eyed his spot and buried the ball with reliable firmness. 1 - 1 - a shocker for sure but reward for sticking at the task at hand and digging deeper than Howard Carter searching for one of Tutenkhamun's nipple rings.
A stodgy period followed after a pause for a clattered player and a home substitution. The half had settled quicker than a pint of Robinson's bitter (piss water to the uninitiated) and it became a case of which team wanted it more. Rylands burst forth, one of the subs flew down the flank and crossed to No 2 (Chris McShane) who was over-excited and fired way too high. A gratis boot was given the way of the hosts, Butler clonked one in, the keeper was watertight and held the globe like a mother with a new-born bairn. The Linotype lads rebuilt, No 12 (Ben Connolly) supplied a fine cross, it just missed that oh so crucial killer connection. Rylands stood firm but another angled punt followed. The ball was whisked across the goal mouth, all heads missed it but Rand was the man at the back post and slotted home to give his team the crucial advantage. Crikey, what a great time to steal the show! This fine and dandy moment led to some foul gobbery by the mittman who received a yellow, kept on the spillage of filth and was given his marching orders. He ranted and raved but it was wasted breath, the rules are there and the rules were followed, a trifle pedantic perhaps but hey, these things happen. The guests, now down to 10 men, tried to make the best of matters with No 9 (Daniel Sisson) connecting with a corner but only finding air instead of net. The time ticked away, The Nomads managed matters well and saw out the dregs and bagged yet another 3 points. Man of the Match must go to the home No 5 (Jon Rand) who was as solid as a sun-baked turd throughout, who was as watertight as Duncan Goodhew's arse and who dealt with more balls than Dr Testicle at his home-run Genital clinic - a cracking effort lad.
FINAL THOUGHT - And once more The Linotype Cheadle Heath Nomads have blessed my eyes with a victory and put in another raw-boned, honesty-riddled performance that will certainly fill them with confidence for the last few matches of the season and, of course, next seasons fresh challenge. They have many good players, knock the ball about with good pace and efficiency and for me at least, the only thing lacking is a bit of movement off the ball and a stretching of their opponents over the full width of the pitch. It is a minor suggestion but hey, they are doing ruddy well at the moment and although making things more difficult than they should be, they keep on winning. Rylands look a half decent prospect but need a bit of tweaking and twanging here and there with a greater direction had within the main engine of the machine. They were certainly up against it tonight but displayed a good resilience and, when the chance arose, pinched a goal and put the end result in definite doubt. They are currently sitting second bottom, I reckon before the season is done they will be jumping up several places and gaining a bit more respectability - well, here's hoping anyway!
Thursday, 3 May 2018
A SEMI-ON FOR THE SENIORS - SOUNDS ABOUT RIGHT
1st May 2018 - Linotype Cheadle Heath Nomads 3 v 2 AFC Macclesfield - May Day is a Gay Day but no fair skinned maidens from the Isle of Lesbos or corn chewing yokels from Planet Homo have been dancing around my May Pole and I felt all the better for it. These tight trousers of mine can't take the pressure and, in truth neither can the prostate. I like people to live and let live, prejudice stinks but tearing one's kecks or creaking the old ballcock is no way to prove it. After a day at work and a stroll in the sun I arrived home, finished a CD review, photographed a couple of butterflies in the garden, cooked tea and added a new picture to my website - Carabus nemoralis no less, the Bronze Carabid, a tetchy little bugger but a good friend of the gardener. I chomped my tea, the good lady arrived home, I set off walking to the football ground and arrived 10 minutes later - how is that for convenience. A cup match tonight, the Stockport Cup Senior semi-final - by heck, who would have thought it? I don't know what the end prize entails - a night on the lash with Anne Coffey the local MP or a tour around the Hat Works with the friend of the next door neighbour of someone who knew Bobby Davro's cousin - tis all top quality stuff at the arse end of football. Either way I am sure both teams would give it their all and I duly acquired some cha' (thanks for the freebie George), picked a viewing point and scribbled the events as they unfolded. I trust in your faith to believe the following text and avoid any use of medication after the event.
The inflated bag got rolling (last time I said that someone was pushing a bean-laden Hattie Jacques down a hill) and toes fought to get a touch on matters. The start was tidy, both teams were exhibiting a sound appetite, the No 7 (Rubin Kennerley) of the visitors was nearly the first bod to get a break but was denied by a cracking last minute tackle. This moment was followed by the home No 9 (Rick Tindall) who put in some tenacious work on the flank, mug a defender and put the ball in to No 10 (Leon Grandison) who put the ball on a silver platter for Tindall to gobble up and fire home with choice precision. The Nomads were now perked up, No 4 struck a delectable crossfield ball that saw Tindall get upended in vulgar fashion, it was far from a graceful tackle. A free-boot was granted, no triumph was had but there was a mounting pressure on the guests, something they tried to deal with by creating a swift attack that saw No 8 (Chris Allen) hammer one goalward in wild fashion - it wasn't even close. Kennerley led the next Macc attack, a superb pass graced the width of the pitch, No 11 (Greg Mathers) was without hesitation and belted one first time. The mitter dove to his left, the ball sped on and looked destined for the bottom corner, somehow it crept passed the far stick - unlucky squire. Up the other end and after a defensive faux pas ('fuck up' to the less cultured) Grandison had a glorious chance to double his teams lead. He had only the keeper to beat, imagine the disappointment when, from mere feet out, he rattled over - oh man! In response to this let off the Macc lads kicked back, Mathers put in a free-kick that led to a corner and when the angled kick was delivered with good pace and accuracy it was gratifying to see No 10 (Jamie Manson) rise, nut and ripple the netting. All square, just what the Doctor of Neutrality ordered.
The next action soon followed, Tindall was in the mix and like an aroused skeleton, gave the upright a good rattling. No 6 (Ryan Stewart) had a hopeful punt at the other end, fine contact was made but the keeper gathered with sweat-free ease. This was a decent game, good end to end stuff with many a gut busted. Stewart then contributed some cultured football, threaded through to Tindall who duly shot but again missed the target. Out of the bustling midfield 1 pass and 1 long ball came, Tindall fought like a stallion and worked through two players and thumped with fire. The globe blazed, the inside of the post was struck and the net eventually found. It was a fine second strike, it restored the lead, the emphasis was back on the visitors to claw their way back...again. After a couple of sweet moves from Macc the home lads piled on the heat with numerous crosses and balls in, the culmination of these saw Grandison swing and hit air, a colleague (whom I missed) blast against the post and then Butler step up and finally rattle home. It was a case of good work all round, a ball in by the team on the shit end of the stick came out of the murky blue, a mess at the rear was had (ooh pass me the Pampers) and somehow the ball got fumbled home - was that No 9 (Jay Burgess) who was claiming that, either way, it certainly set things up for period two. A couple of kicks later and the break was upon us.
Half-time, I kept my butt still and chewed a few toffees. The weather was staying decent, but a downpour was on the cards - would it come early and throw a spanner in the works of this game? Who knows but things were still all to play for, carry on reading folks, all will be revealed!
Macclesfield came back out with a determination in their eyes, No 8 (Chris Allen) showed fine tenacity and won a free-kick from nothing. The ball went in, came back out, Allen was in the mix and battling away before getting a shot off that was disappointingly straight at the keeper. The travelling pack came on, The Nomads were living precariously, a careful step needed to be taken, the cup final tickets were on hold for sure. No 7 (Craig Coates) was working his knackers off for the hosts and Butler was forever in the mix, squeezing in a shot at one point that got deflected behind for a corner. The ball in was drilled with precision, No 2 (Liam Danagher) slapped crust on leather but the contact wasn't firm enough and the peril passed for the Macclesfield rear guard. The Nomads certainly looked all shook up here and they were under the cosh soon after when Kennerley found Mathers and a chance looked to be looming. The hosts somehow held firm, a release was found, Tindall persisted and caused a fumble by the keeper with the ball coming out and being cracked back in embarrassing fashion - a truly forgetable moment.
Into the home stretch, The Nomads began to reassert themselves but this was a tough contest and Macclesfield were certainly giving it their all. Kennerley came on, was brought down and a penalty shout was had. There was nowt doing and a curling shot followed that was mighty close and kept all alert levels at 'stage red'. A substitute for Cheadle was had, without teamsheets he shall remain 'the man with no name' although he didn't have a cigar and I couldn't see his horse tied up anywhere! He contributed with a brilliant cross and an equally choice corner, the latter of which saw Danagher nut but again without pure contact. The finish to the game was frantic, Cheadle were containing and breaking with Tindall through and being deemed to have used his hand and then the same bod surging again but stopped at the death by a great tackle from Stewart. Grandison for the hosts had the last chance of the game and could have sealed matters in fine style but cracked wide and left us at 3 - 2 to the Linotype lads. We were all done soon after, a good contest this, well fought out and done so fairly. Man of the Match, well for reliability and consistency and a steady performance throughout I am giving the award to the LCHN No 2 (Liam Danagher) - how's that! I duly went home, had some toast and chilled, a decent end to the day, and to think, I'll be back here again in two days time - lovely.
FINAL THOUGHT - A decent match this with two teams putting on a good display of footballing passion, determination and downright hard-work. The final for The Nomads is against Poynton. I don't know when it will be played or where the hell it is at but I am hoping to get that one in on the calendar and add my due support. It promises to be a tight game, the last time I watched these two teams meet there was very little in it and it could have gone either way - If I was you, I'd get details and get sorted as soon as, your time will be well spent I can guarantee it. This was the first time I had seen AFC Macclesfield tonight and it won't be the last. They are not to far away as the crooked crow flies and a trip out to their neck of the woods promises to be a gratifying time. Just to go, support and scribble a report I hope, in some small way, helps get them on the map and if one or two extra bods show up as a result I would be more than happy with that. The team try to play a good brand of soccer and one or two players caught my peepesr (not in that way though, I am a married man don't ya know) and will certainly help the squad move forward with the right footballing ethics - it is the only way, Non-League pure - tis worth the effort every single time.
The inflated bag got rolling (last time I said that someone was pushing a bean-laden Hattie Jacques down a hill) and toes fought to get a touch on matters. The start was tidy, both teams were exhibiting a sound appetite, the No 7 (Rubin Kennerley) of the visitors was nearly the first bod to get a break but was denied by a cracking last minute tackle. This moment was followed by the home No 9 (Rick Tindall) who put in some tenacious work on the flank, mug a defender and put the ball in to No 10 (Leon Grandison) who put the ball on a silver platter for Tindall to gobble up and fire home with choice precision. The Nomads were now perked up, No 4 struck a delectable crossfield ball that saw Tindall get upended in vulgar fashion, it was far from a graceful tackle. A free-boot was granted, no triumph was had but there was a mounting pressure on the guests, something they tried to deal with by creating a swift attack that saw No 8 (Chris Allen) hammer one goalward in wild fashion - it wasn't even close. Kennerley led the next Macc attack, a superb pass graced the width of the pitch, No 11 (Greg Mathers) was without hesitation and belted one first time. The mitter dove to his left, the ball sped on and looked destined for the bottom corner, somehow it crept passed the far stick - unlucky squire. Up the other end and after a defensive faux pas ('fuck up' to the less cultured) Grandison had a glorious chance to double his teams lead. He had only the keeper to beat, imagine the disappointment when, from mere feet out, he rattled over - oh man! In response to this let off the Macc lads kicked back, Mathers put in a free-kick that led to a corner and when the angled kick was delivered with good pace and accuracy it was gratifying to see No 10 (Jamie Manson) rise, nut and ripple the netting. All square, just what the Doctor of Neutrality ordered.
The next action soon followed, Tindall was in the mix and like an aroused skeleton, gave the upright a good rattling. No 6 (Ryan Stewart) had a hopeful punt at the other end, fine contact was made but the keeper gathered with sweat-free ease. This was a decent game, good end to end stuff with many a gut busted. Stewart then contributed some cultured football, threaded through to Tindall who duly shot but again missed the target. Out of the bustling midfield 1 pass and 1 long ball came, Tindall fought like a stallion and worked through two players and thumped with fire. The globe blazed, the inside of the post was struck and the net eventually found. It was a fine second strike, it restored the lead, the emphasis was back on the visitors to claw their way back...again. After a couple of sweet moves from Macc the home lads piled on the heat with numerous crosses and balls in, the culmination of these saw Grandison swing and hit air, a colleague (whom I missed) blast against the post and then Butler step up and finally rattle home. It was a case of good work all round, a ball in by the team on the shit end of the stick came out of the murky blue, a mess at the rear was had (ooh pass me the Pampers) and somehow the ball got fumbled home - was that No 9 (Jay Burgess) who was claiming that, either way, it certainly set things up for period two. A couple of kicks later and the break was upon us.
Half-time, I kept my butt still and chewed a few toffees. The weather was staying decent, but a downpour was on the cards - would it come early and throw a spanner in the works of this game? Who knows but things were still all to play for, carry on reading folks, all will be revealed!
Macclesfield came back out with a determination in their eyes, No 8 (Chris Allen) showed fine tenacity and won a free-kick from nothing. The ball went in, came back out, Allen was in the mix and battling away before getting a shot off that was disappointingly straight at the keeper. The travelling pack came on, The Nomads were living precariously, a careful step needed to be taken, the cup final tickets were on hold for sure. No 7 (Craig Coates) was working his knackers off for the hosts and Butler was forever in the mix, squeezing in a shot at one point that got deflected behind for a corner. The ball in was drilled with precision, No 2 (Liam Danagher) slapped crust on leather but the contact wasn't firm enough and the peril passed for the Macclesfield rear guard. The Nomads certainly looked all shook up here and they were under the cosh soon after when Kennerley found Mathers and a chance looked to be looming. The hosts somehow held firm, a release was found, Tindall persisted and caused a fumble by the keeper with the ball coming out and being cracked back in embarrassing fashion - a truly forgetable moment.
Into the home stretch, The Nomads began to reassert themselves but this was a tough contest and Macclesfield were certainly giving it their all. Kennerley came on, was brought down and a penalty shout was had. There was nowt doing and a curling shot followed that was mighty close and kept all alert levels at 'stage red'. A substitute for Cheadle was had, without teamsheets he shall remain 'the man with no name' although he didn't have a cigar and I couldn't see his horse tied up anywhere! He contributed with a brilliant cross and an equally choice corner, the latter of which saw Danagher nut but again without pure contact. The finish to the game was frantic, Cheadle were containing and breaking with Tindall through and being deemed to have used his hand and then the same bod surging again but stopped at the death by a great tackle from Stewart. Grandison for the hosts had the last chance of the game and could have sealed matters in fine style but cracked wide and left us at 3 - 2 to the Linotype lads. We were all done soon after, a good contest this, well fought out and done so fairly. Man of the Match, well for reliability and consistency and a steady performance throughout I am giving the award to the LCHN No 2 (Liam Danagher) - how's that! I duly went home, had some toast and chilled, a decent end to the day, and to think, I'll be back here again in two days time - lovely.
FINAL THOUGHT - A decent match this with two teams putting on a good display of footballing passion, determination and downright hard-work. The final for The Nomads is against Poynton. I don't know when it will be played or where the hell it is at but I am hoping to get that one in on the calendar and add my due support. It promises to be a tight game, the last time I watched these two teams meet there was very little in it and it could have gone either way - If I was you, I'd get details and get sorted as soon as, your time will be well spent I can guarantee it. This was the first time I had seen AFC Macclesfield tonight and it won't be the last. They are not to far away as the crooked crow flies and a trip out to their neck of the woods promises to be a gratifying time. Just to go, support and scribble a report I hope, in some small way, helps get them on the map and if one or two extra bods show up as a result I would be more than happy with that. The team try to play a good brand of soccer and one or two players caught my peepesr (not in that way though, I am a married man don't ya know) and will certainly help the squad move forward with the right footballing ethics - it is the only way, Non-League pure - tis worth the effort every single time.
Wednesday, 2 May 2018
THE ROAD LEADS...
30th April 2018 - Maine Road 0 v 2 Widnes FC - The weekend had been busy, a footy match, chasing one's rear and a trip to Wales looking at fungi, flowers and birds. I woke up with a cold, the carcass was aching and the spirits low but it was my day off work so a bit of fungal identification, exercise and decent eating made sure I was fighting fit to attend tonight's match. Maine Road get a few viewings a season by my fungalised self and are a constant source of bewilderment and unpredictability. They now find themselves on a slope that could lead to a drop if crampons of determination aren't used. To those ill-versed in mountaineering talk, crampons are not sanitary towels for people with genital-based gout (I thought I had best clear that one up). Widnes FC on the other hand are another team I have viewed several times and are a group of players who never fail to impress - a very well-organised machine akin to the bowel-system of Lance Corporal Jack Jones after a monster brawn and Schlitz beer bender and receiving a note that informs 'The Germans Are Coming'! So, after pondering the ponderable points of the night I would be a darn fool not to go for an away win but...like I said earlier, Maine Road never fail to bewilder and are not easy to predict, this could be a cracker for sure. Tea purchased, STP Stu met, seats taken, cop a load of this then!
The early play was somewhat tepid but the first heat came via a Widnes break that saw a corner and a sizzling cross exude potential but end up with no finalising execution. A crackle began to rise, No 10 (Chris Lomax) for Widnes went on a weaving sortie and exhibited feet too quick for the home defense - a free-kick was given. The execution was woeful, but the guests soon came again with No 9 (Ben Hodkinson) luckily gaining a foot or two of space and running direct on goal. The shot that came was decent enough, the save was of the same calibre - no early breakthough was had. The Road refused to buckle to these early demands, No 11 (Matthew Morgan) put in a fine cross, a first time volley ensued, but the impact between foot and ball was far too weak to trouble the netman. Widnes pushed once more but the tidal wave was held as Morgan stroked a lovely ball to No 9 (Jack Coop) who should have shot first time but dillied and dallied and let the chance go begging. Morgan regained the ball and with ill-patience cracked one over the horizontal. No 11 (Jack Banister) for the travelling team came next, swift work down the wing and a cross brought a handball claim that may have held some weight but the official said 'no' and that was that. The Whites came again soon after and did find that net after No 5 (Michael Grogan) nutted home from a sweet ball in. Alas he also sent the keeper into the net as well and a foul negated the strike and kept the scoresheet bare.
This was a game that was getting difficult to call but Widnes seemed to be having the slight edge. They came again, 2 fine crosses were had, the second of which was met by the globe of No 6 (Steve Akrigg) who was on target but denied by a sturdy on-the-line clearance. Soon after another ball into The Blues' box saw keeper and defender cross wires, the ball pinged and thankfully missed the gaping net. The corner came and the ball in was shit. Another corner came and that ball in was shit. I hate reverting to basics but the descriptions given are quite apt and would old up in any courtroom! Widnes now had their tails up, No 4 (Kevin Pollard) ended one move with a fair snap-shot - it wasn't too far off the mark. From the next advance however, the side on the rise were caught on the hop and a Road ball put Coop in the clear with only the last man standing to beat. The shot eventually came, we watched, we expected, we farted out a blast of disappointment as the ball found sky rather than mesh - pass me some new undies vicar. The next action saw No 2 (Jay Roberts) for Widnes work hard and hammer a cross in that the home No 1 (Ryan Livesey) cleared via an unorthodox Kung-Fu kick. The Road soon built from here and put together an eye-catching move that saw 4 passes end via the feet of No 7 (Jack Langford) who punted just shy of the target zone. A long ball by Widnes was played to help ease the pressure, Lomax grabbed in the box and was tumbled. A penalty was given and duly belted by the usually reliable Hodkinson. The save that came was not from the text book but was solid as a rock and kept the home lads still in this intriguing affair. A late shot for the visiting Banister went wide and we were done.
Half-time - a cuppa, a chinwag with Stu and local football dabbler David Potter was had. Mr Potter was akin to Liberace on a Saturday night out, scouting for talent - albeit in a more respectable way of course (he says hopefully). A decent chap and keen to get back at the helm, the sooner he his back at the forefront the better methinks.
Seats retaken, the second period was underway. The early action was frantic, Widnes had the first chance with No 8 (Stuart Cook) looking to pull the trigger. He dawdled, was firmly tackled, the mittman stepped in and grabbed - it was time to gather one's gonads and get this game dealt with. A free-kick came for the guests soon after, a nut across required attention and was cleared - just! Another gifted boot came next, a cracking ball in was the result, out it went, a foul came, it was duly ignored as advantage was played and then No 7 (Kevin Towey) collected, drove forth and cracked one into the net. Wallop - pick that one out, 0 - 1 - and thoroughly deserved. Widnes followed this strike with another attack that was thwarted by a foul. Repeat situations came, the Road picked up 3 bookings and were looking in disarray - thankfully all danger passed and Road had a chance to steady the sinking ship. A golden chance to get this match back on level terms was had, Coop was in again with the keeper to beat - once more a wild blaze over was the result - what a shame. Widnes kicked back, another decent cross in, Lomax with a point blank shot - a cracking save kept the flesh on the arse of the home teams hopes, it was getting mighty tender though, The Whites were rising in confidence. Banister had the next effort, the shot was firmly struck but had too much fade, keep thee head down fella and control the club-head - so sayeth, in his usual double-entendre based style, that homosexual golfer I met at the Magic Wand Invitational - I never knew balls could be put in a hole like that before! The same bod had another effort soon after when Towey put one over the top. The connection was sound, however the inside of the sticks was missed yet again - bah.
Into the back stretch we went, The Road were resisting well but when Towey nodded on and Lomax sent in a curler for Widnes I thought the second strike was on the cards - ooh, outside of the post the ball flew - now that was close. Minutes later a swift attack came, a ball was put into the box, the substitute George Lomax received and displayed good strength to turn, bang and double the Widnes lead. The Road were nearly sunk and from here Widnes stayed in control and never really came under any serious pressure. They cultivated another excellent move that saw C. Lomax have a punt touched off the line and then later in the dog end of the game one final shot was had by the same player only to be denied by some good gloved work. The referee put the kybosh on the Road's suffering soon after, the points were going the right way and Man of the Match, for me at least, goes to the visiting teams No 4 (Kevin Pollard) for keeping the ranks awake, organised and forever keen and also for putting in a consistent stint that made sure a clean sheet was the reward.
FINAL THOUGHT - So, yet again, I came to watch The Road and I witnessed another step taken to the end of season doom. I shall not dwell on the negative as there were several good performances put in tonight and if chances were taken and a bit of good fortune had then the result could have been oh so different. I thought their No 1 (Ryan Livesey)_ and their No 9 (Jamie Roe) were quite outstanding as well as several others but the fact remains, for all their hard work, no points were in the bag. Widnes though are a ruddy good side and prior to the match I expected more from them. In fact a 1 - 4 win was my initial prediction which I wisely altered at half-time to 0 - 2 - a scoreline I did mention to the aforementioned Mr Potter which he assured me would be blessed with a £200 payment if proven right - the invoice is in the post sir! So there ya go, another report done and perhaps more questions posed rather than answers given and, to answer the question in the title of the piece...The road leads...downward as if you couldn't have guessed (for the time being at least) but...well, you know the rest.
The early play was somewhat tepid but the first heat came via a Widnes break that saw a corner and a sizzling cross exude potential but end up with no finalising execution. A crackle began to rise, No 10 (Chris Lomax) for Widnes went on a weaving sortie and exhibited feet too quick for the home defense - a free-kick was given. The execution was woeful, but the guests soon came again with No 9 (Ben Hodkinson) luckily gaining a foot or two of space and running direct on goal. The shot that came was decent enough, the save was of the same calibre - no early breakthough was had. The Road refused to buckle to these early demands, No 11 (Matthew Morgan) put in a fine cross, a first time volley ensued, but the impact between foot and ball was far too weak to trouble the netman. Widnes pushed once more but the tidal wave was held as Morgan stroked a lovely ball to No 9 (Jack Coop) who should have shot first time but dillied and dallied and let the chance go begging. Morgan regained the ball and with ill-patience cracked one over the horizontal. No 11 (Jack Banister) for the travelling team came next, swift work down the wing and a cross brought a handball claim that may have held some weight but the official said 'no' and that was that. The Whites came again soon after and did find that net after No 5 (Michael Grogan) nutted home from a sweet ball in. Alas he also sent the keeper into the net as well and a foul negated the strike and kept the scoresheet bare.
This was a game that was getting difficult to call but Widnes seemed to be having the slight edge. They came again, 2 fine crosses were had, the second of which was met by the globe of No 6 (Steve Akrigg) who was on target but denied by a sturdy on-the-line clearance. Soon after another ball into The Blues' box saw keeper and defender cross wires, the ball pinged and thankfully missed the gaping net. The corner came and the ball in was shit. Another corner came and that ball in was shit. I hate reverting to basics but the descriptions given are quite apt and would old up in any courtroom! Widnes now had their tails up, No 4 (Kevin Pollard) ended one move with a fair snap-shot - it wasn't too far off the mark. From the next advance however, the side on the rise were caught on the hop and a Road ball put Coop in the clear with only the last man standing to beat. The shot eventually came, we watched, we expected, we farted out a blast of disappointment as the ball found sky rather than mesh - pass me some new undies vicar. The next action saw No 2 (Jay Roberts) for Widnes work hard and hammer a cross in that the home No 1 (Ryan Livesey) cleared via an unorthodox Kung-Fu kick. The Road soon built from here and put together an eye-catching move that saw 4 passes end via the feet of No 7 (Jack Langford) who punted just shy of the target zone. A long ball by Widnes was played to help ease the pressure, Lomax grabbed in the box and was tumbled. A penalty was given and duly belted by the usually reliable Hodkinson. The save that came was not from the text book but was solid as a rock and kept the home lads still in this intriguing affair. A late shot for the visiting Banister went wide and we were done.
Half-time - a cuppa, a chinwag with Stu and local football dabbler David Potter was had. Mr Potter was akin to Liberace on a Saturday night out, scouting for talent - albeit in a more respectable way of course (he says hopefully). A decent chap and keen to get back at the helm, the sooner he his back at the forefront the better methinks.
Seats retaken, the second period was underway. The early action was frantic, Widnes had the first chance with No 8 (Stuart Cook) looking to pull the trigger. He dawdled, was firmly tackled, the mittman stepped in and grabbed - it was time to gather one's gonads and get this game dealt with. A free-kick came for the guests soon after, a nut across required attention and was cleared - just! Another gifted boot came next, a cracking ball in was the result, out it went, a foul came, it was duly ignored as advantage was played and then No 7 (Kevin Towey) collected, drove forth and cracked one into the net. Wallop - pick that one out, 0 - 1 - and thoroughly deserved. Widnes followed this strike with another attack that was thwarted by a foul. Repeat situations came, the Road picked up 3 bookings and were looking in disarray - thankfully all danger passed and Road had a chance to steady the sinking ship. A golden chance to get this match back on level terms was had, Coop was in again with the keeper to beat - once more a wild blaze over was the result - what a shame. Widnes kicked back, another decent cross in, Lomax with a point blank shot - a cracking save kept the flesh on the arse of the home teams hopes, it was getting mighty tender though, The Whites were rising in confidence. Banister had the next effort, the shot was firmly struck but had too much fade, keep thee head down fella and control the club-head - so sayeth, in his usual double-entendre based style, that homosexual golfer I met at the Magic Wand Invitational - I never knew balls could be put in a hole like that before! The same bod had another effort soon after when Towey put one over the top. The connection was sound, however the inside of the sticks was missed yet again - bah.
Into the back stretch we went, The Road were resisting well but when Towey nodded on and Lomax sent in a curler for Widnes I thought the second strike was on the cards - ooh, outside of the post the ball flew - now that was close. Minutes later a swift attack came, a ball was put into the box, the substitute George Lomax received and displayed good strength to turn, bang and double the Widnes lead. The Road were nearly sunk and from here Widnes stayed in control and never really came under any serious pressure. They cultivated another excellent move that saw C. Lomax have a punt touched off the line and then later in the dog end of the game one final shot was had by the same player only to be denied by some good gloved work. The referee put the kybosh on the Road's suffering soon after, the points were going the right way and Man of the Match, for me at least, goes to the visiting teams No 4 (Kevin Pollard) for keeping the ranks awake, organised and forever keen and also for putting in a consistent stint that made sure a clean sheet was the reward.
FINAL THOUGHT - So, yet again, I came to watch The Road and I witnessed another step taken to the end of season doom. I shall not dwell on the negative as there were several good performances put in tonight and if chances were taken and a bit of good fortune had then the result could have been oh so different. I thought their No 1 (Ryan Livesey)_ and their No 9 (Jamie Roe) were quite outstanding as well as several others but the fact remains, for all their hard work, no points were in the bag. Widnes though are a ruddy good side and prior to the match I expected more from them. In fact a 1 - 4 win was my initial prediction which I wisely altered at half-time to 0 - 2 - a scoreline I did mention to the aforementioned Mr Potter which he assured me would be blessed with a £200 payment if proven right - the invoice is in the post sir! So there ya go, another report done and perhaps more questions posed rather than answers given and, to answer the question in the title of the piece...The road leads...downward as if you couldn't have guessed (for the time being at least) but...well, you know the rest.
Sunday, 29 April 2018
NOMADS TURN THE S'CREWE
28th April 2018 - Linotype Cheadle Heath Nomads 3 v 1 Crewe FC - Today I was flustered by more techno tossery with the computer playing up and needing attention. So, after a morn of cleaning and sorting the weekend's itinery me and the good lady dropped of the clinging machine at a so called computer repair shop in Handforth. I say 'so called' as these molesters of motherboards and dabblers in disk drive deviancy really do have me wondering about their entire mental make-up and general character. They talk in garbled terms, hide in a smoke-screen of jargon and are eternally pale of colour due to spending too much time soaking up VDU beams rather than the outside air. So, after dropping off the machine, acquiring some snacks I went home with the missus and then strolled to this local ground and chatted with several decent peeps who are trying to do their bit and put the home team on the well-worn Non-League map. One of these chaps was the charming George Gibbons, the chairman of the club and now the proud owner of a tractor. I don't normally put pictures in my write-ups but this one was sent to me and sums up the DIY, hands-on approach of the Non-League scene.
I took my seating station for the afternoons events, read a tome on 'Plant Galls' and awaited the two teams. A few peeps turned up (emphasis on a few) and the players and officials made themselves present, here's to a good un' folks.
The commencement of the affair was rather sketchy, similar to the conscience of your local MP no doubt or the comedic talent of Dougie Brown. Eventually the Nomads won a free-punt after No 10 (Leon Grandison) was bundled to the floor. A delicious cross followed and although no takers took up the spherical offer this moment led to a good bout of pressure that kept Crewe on the rear peg. No 8 (Kieran Herbert) put in some good touch work, Grandison was upended again and a bonus ball was put into the zone of peril and once more no killer contact was made. Had the ball picked up a nasty virus and the striker's were averse to catching anything - surely not that Global Pox again! The Crewe crew rode the tide and won a gratis boot of their own but, when the ball came and spent too long in the air, offside was duly called after a weak nut on goal. A long Nomad ball came next, No 9 (Rick Tindall) was on the end of it and tried an intelligent but slightly impudent lob - it went...off target. Soon after a fine midfield tackle opened the gateway for another homeside attack. It culminated in a shot for No 7 (Liam Millen) who, rather than hit the net, took the arse feathers of a passing Shithawk and left many hopefuls...deflated. Herbert had another side-footed attempted soon after but went shy of the mark and from here the Crewe lads were given reason to believe and started to creep back into the battle.
As things became more competitive Crewe forced a Nomad midfield error after the home team's options were limited. The visiting team were given time to knock the ball around on the edge of the box which led to No 8 (Sam Roberts) releasing one, albeit into the meat of the keeper's carcass. Soon after the hosts gave the ball away again, No 9 (Nathan Southern) collected and advanced with purpose. He eventually swung the shank and propelled the ball at a slightly out-of-position keeper. The home No 1 (Aaron Tyrer) did well to recover and make a neat save. The next erection of excitement arose when a Cheadle free-kick was sweetly played, Tindall rose to nut on and a final dose of triumphant goal-scoring Viagra was added via the crust of Herbert who readily rippled the mesh. 1 - 0 to The Nomads, it had been a long time coming and therein a sexual innuendo is found. From here the visitors looked to settle and were darn fortunate not to go further behind when Grandison was, on a brace of occasions, only inches away from making contact with a couple of dazzling crosses. From here the host's showed good composure, a free-kick saw No 11 (Joe Cambell) send in a bender only to find the keeper's guts and then a couple more crosses flash into the box and just lack that necessary coup de grace! The referee had seen enough, the half-time break was granted, things were nicely poised I thought!
During the break the uretha was dilated and golden torrents cascaded onto shit-stained enamel before the Englishman's drink was purchased and sipped whilst strolling back to my perch and noting a few wild flowers along the way - Thyme leaved Speedwell; Slender Speedwell and Ivy Leaved Speedwell making up a fine trio of the Veronica family!
Period the second began with the Linotype lads carrying on from where they left off. They worked hard to create another flow of pressure but after a brief break for a ball-in-the-mush injury Crewe came from nowhere, put in a low cross on which Southern pounced and finished in sugar-coated style. It was against the flow, it put the game rump over breast, the conkers of intrigue were clashing! The Nomads reacted to this shocker with red light urgency and a ball soon found Campbell who hot-footed inwards, side-footed the globe towards goal and was denied by an efficient save. Tindall tried his luck next with a hammer-heavy free-kick but the ball flew high into the sky. Crewe countered, a free-kick came, Southern was up challenging and the ball fell to No 11 (Nathan Dyer) who flashed a volley that was deflected behind. A corner flew in, No 10 (Harry Ashworth) nutted with passion but again the ball, like the dog of John Noakes and the Knickers of Hilda Ogden, refused to stay down. At the other end of the field yet another free-kick was awarded, this time Butler thumped with fervour, the underside of the bar was bruised, the ball descended with pace, alas at this level there was no video-replay available and we all had to settle for the referee's opinion - no goal.
The game was now ablaze, both teams sniffing the loins of victory. The home team came again with a choice move, Herbert starting it, Grandison finalising matters - side netting struck. This was now end to end stuff, both teams upping the tempo. Next and Herbert fed Tindall, the shot came, the far upright was missed. Once more the hosts progressed, a cross was glanced on, Butler dashed in and nutted straight at the keeper - another opportunity blown. Campbell had the next punt, it was a better effort and brought a good save from an underfire mittman. The finish was becoming increasingly hectic, Crewe were absorbing the avalanche and looking to spit back with spite. Alas the Cheadle chaps would not be denied and put together a delicious sequence that saw 4 players mix it up and eventually get rewarded with a corner kick. The delivery of this angled effort was decent enough but Butler could only connect and bang wide. Out of nothing a ball came into the Crewe box and had plenty of elevation. The keeper came to fist clear, he missed and the ball went loose and up stepped No 7 (Liam Millen) to snatch a quite simple goal. The pressure had paid dividends, the lead was thoroughly earned. From here the Linotype Mob saw matters out but not before a corner was had, the ball went in, out and back in and was sent into the back of the net by No 4 (Liam Donaher). It was game done and dusted, Crewe had been busted and all in all the result was mighty fair. Man of the Match today goes to Linotype Cheadle Heath Nomad's No 6 (Terence Butler) for a stint that oozed effort, desire and energy as well as some tidy passing, overall alertness and game awareness - spot on squire! I duly wandered home at the pace of a snail and was greeted by my good lady and a Holly Blue butterfly in the garden, I can't complain.
FINAL THOUGHT - Yet again, another match at this local venue fulfils the Non-League needs with both teams putting in a quite honest shift and granting all and sundry with a game to enjoy. At this level the teams need all the support and help they can get so anyone who makes the effort is very well received, something I certainly felt and am very appreciative of. The Linotypers play a good game, they move the ball well, have some real work-horses in their ranks and some definite position-assured players who look quite at home in their role. Crewe FC I have seen a few times and are far from a poxy unit. They also push the ball around well and have some good sets of feet in their ranks, their downfall now and again may be the fact that they over-elaborate and perhaps don't offer enough options when in possession. Regardless of my thoughts though, I will be catching up with them again and wishing them all the best. So, match report 97 of the season done, why the need to put back, well if people at grounds like this can get stuck in and present us with such fine entertainment the option to do nowt is not one I like to take. I was sent another picture during this match, tis the Manager doing his bit above the call of duty - DIY hey, ya can't beat it!
The commencement of the affair was rather sketchy, similar to the conscience of your local MP no doubt or the comedic talent of Dougie Brown. Eventually the Nomads won a free-punt after No 10 (Leon Grandison) was bundled to the floor. A delicious cross followed and although no takers took up the spherical offer this moment led to a good bout of pressure that kept Crewe on the rear peg. No 8 (Kieran Herbert) put in some good touch work, Grandison was upended again and a bonus ball was put into the zone of peril and once more no killer contact was made. Had the ball picked up a nasty virus and the striker's were averse to catching anything - surely not that Global Pox again! The Crewe crew rode the tide and won a gratis boot of their own but, when the ball came and spent too long in the air, offside was duly called after a weak nut on goal. A long Nomad ball came next, No 9 (Rick Tindall) was on the end of it and tried an intelligent but slightly impudent lob - it went...off target. Soon after a fine midfield tackle opened the gateway for another homeside attack. It culminated in a shot for No 7 (Liam Millen) who, rather than hit the net, took the arse feathers of a passing Shithawk and left many hopefuls...deflated. Herbert had another side-footed attempted soon after but went shy of the mark and from here the Crewe lads were given reason to believe and started to creep back into the battle.
As things became more competitive Crewe forced a Nomad midfield error after the home team's options were limited. The visiting team were given time to knock the ball around on the edge of the box which led to No 8 (Sam Roberts) releasing one, albeit into the meat of the keeper's carcass. Soon after the hosts gave the ball away again, No 9 (Nathan Southern) collected and advanced with purpose. He eventually swung the shank and propelled the ball at a slightly out-of-position keeper. The home No 1 (Aaron Tyrer) did well to recover and make a neat save. The next erection of excitement arose when a Cheadle free-kick was sweetly played, Tindall rose to nut on and a final dose of triumphant goal-scoring Viagra was added via the crust of Herbert who readily rippled the mesh. 1 - 0 to The Nomads, it had been a long time coming and therein a sexual innuendo is found. From here the visitors looked to settle and were darn fortunate not to go further behind when Grandison was, on a brace of occasions, only inches away from making contact with a couple of dazzling crosses. From here the host's showed good composure, a free-kick saw No 11 (Joe Cambell) send in a bender only to find the keeper's guts and then a couple more crosses flash into the box and just lack that necessary coup de grace! The referee had seen enough, the half-time break was granted, things were nicely poised I thought!
During the break the uretha was dilated and golden torrents cascaded onto shit-stained enamel before the Englishman's drink was purchased and sipped whilst strolling back to my perch and noting a few wild flowers along the way - Thyme leaved Speedwell; Slender Speedwell and Ivy Leaved Speedwell making up a fine trio of the Veronica family!
Period the second began with the Linotype lads carrying on from where they left off. They worked hard to create another flow of pressure but after a brief break for a ball-in-the-mush injury Crewe came from nowhere, put in a low cross on which Southern pounced and finished in sugar-coated style. It was against the flow, it put the game rump over breast, the conkers of intrigue were clashing! The Nomads reacted to this shocker with red light urgency and a ball soon found Campbell who hot-footed inwards, side-footed the globe towards goal and was denied by an efficient save. Tindall tried his luck next with a hammer-heavy free-kick but the ball flew high into the sky. Crewe countered, a free-kick came, Southern was up challenging and the ball fell to No 11 (Nathan Dyer) who flashed a volley that was deflected behind. A corner flew in, No 10 (Harry Ashworth) nutted with passion but again the ball, like the dog of John Noakes and the Knickers of Hilda Ogden, refused to stay down. At the other end of the field yet another free-kick was awarded, this time Butler thumped with fervour, the underside of the bar was bruised, the ball descended with pace, alas at this level there was no video-replay available and we all had to settle for the referee's opinion - no goal.
The game was now ablaze, both teams sniffing the loins of victory. The home team came again with a choice move, Herbert starting it, Grandison finalising matters - side netting struck. This was now end to end stuff, both teams upping the tempo. Next and Herbert fed Tindall, the shot came, the far upright was missed. Once more the hosts progressed, a cross was glanced on, Butler dashed in and nutted straight at the keeper - another opportunity blown. Campbell had the next punt, it was a better effort and brought a good save from an underfire mittman. The finish was becoming increasingly hectic, Crewe were absorbing the avalanche and looking to spit back with spite. Alas the Cheadle chaps would not be denied and put together a delicious sequence that saw 4 players mix it up and eventually get rewarded with a corner kick. The delivery of this angled effort was decent enough but Butler could only connect and bang wide. Out of nothing a ball came into the Crewe box and had plenty of elevation. The keeper came to fist clear, he missed and the ball went loose and up stepped No 7 (Liam Millen) to snatch a quite simple goal. The pressure had paid dividends, the lead was thoroughly earned. From here the Linotype Mob saw matters out but not before a corner was had, the ball went in, out and back in and was sent into the back of the net by No 4 (Liam Donaher). It was game done and dusted, Crewe had been busted and all in all the result was mighty fair. Man of the Match today goes to Linotype Cheadle Heath Nomad's No 6 (Terence Butler) for a stint that oozed effort, desire and energy as well as some tidy passing, overall alertness and game awareness - spot on squire! I duly wandered home at the pace of a snail and was greeted by my good lady and a Holly Blue butterfly in the garden, I can't complain.
FINAL THOUGHT - Yet again, another match at this local venue fulfils the Non-League needs with both teams putting in a quite honest shift and granting all and sundry with a game to enjoy. At this level the teams need all the support and help they can get so anyone who makes the effort is very well received, something I certainly felt and am very appreciative of. The Linotypers play a good game, they move the ball well, have some real work-horses in their ranks and some definite position-assured players who look quite at home in their role. Crewe FC I have seen a few times and are far from a poxy unit. They also push the ball around well and have some good sets of feet in their ranks, their downfall now and again may be the fact that they over-elaborate and perhaps don't offer enough options when in possession. Regardless of my thoughts though, I will be catching up with them again and wishing them all the best. So, match report 97 of the season done, why the need to put back, well if people at grounds like this can get stuck in and present us with such fine entertainment the option to do nowt is not one I like to take. I was sent another picture during this match, tis the Manager doing his bit above the call of duty - DIY hey, ya can't beat it!
And once again, cheers to all who read these things, very decent of ya.
Saturday, 28 April 2018
LUCKY 13 - FOR RUNCORN AND NEUTRALS ALIKE
26th April 2018 - Runcorn Town 10 v 3 AFC Darwen - The match planned for tonight was cancelled so after a nice tea and a change of plan we took an easy drive down to The Pavillion Sports Complex and duly purchased the obligatory cup of cha and golden goal ticket before taking up our prime viewing hot-spots. Me and my wife both predicted a home win, my good lady went for 4 - 1 and I was more ambitious and went for 6 - 1 - little did we know that both attempts at prophecy were a trifle conservative. As the teams warmed up I sipped my tea and ran through a list of wild flowers I had seen walking from the car park to our seats - Groundsel, Red Dead Nettle, Oxford Ragwort; Chickweed, Cornsalad, Thale Cress, Dandelion agg and Shepherd's Purse to name a few - I hope the ground staff don't go mad and clear away these gems, if you get your eye in it all adds to the charm of the place and is doing a good turn for nature - we are all weeds at some point, not wanted in certain circles and frowned upon. Take my advice - set your roots firm folks, bloom with confidence and spread thy seeds of enthusiasm with generosity - well that's my ethos anyway and God bless those feisty plants and what they stand for. So, to the game, the teams trotted out, the skies were cloudy but holding back the lacrymal misery and the game got underway with 82 onlookers as keen and as eager as ever - lovely.
As soon as the black clad official piped his pea the home team were straight at it like hungry dogs on a ham-shank. A high tossed ball was borne and duly grabbed by the ever industrious No 7 (Joe Holt). He worked inward from the emerald flanks, found an appropriate space at the angle and walloped home with forceful intent. Runcorn were not satisfied by the early taste of success and applied a nagging pressure the guests did well to partially resist. The Darwen lads did find room to manoevure and allow their No 10 (Ryan Steele) to thump in a long ranger after the home keeper went walkabout. The ball went shy of the sticks, it would have been a bonus strike back for sure. From here we peregrinated back to the opposite end of the field, a ball was played to No 10 (Craig Cairns) who, in his accurate and eye-catching striker's manner slotted home with comfortable ease. 2 - 0 and only 9 minutes on the clock. The game was hectic, Runcorn the main operators of the tempo nob (and what a nob at that) and Darwen mere slaves to the tempo, dashing hard to try and keep some semblance of order to the night's proceedings. Cairns was a persistent thorn in the visiting sides rear end, he punctured and prowled once more and contributed to a free-kick being won. No 5 (Simon Thelwell) stepped up, had what seemed an optimistic dig and saw the ball ping of the inside of the post and bring up a 3 goal lead (it seems that this was given as an own goal, did I blink and miss the obvious)? It was looking like a severely long night from the travelling pack but credit where credit is due and applause for them still trying to play football and work an opening. Alas, from little danger, Runcorn were given a chance to rub salt in a gaping gash when a lofted ball came in and the keeper came and fumbled. The loose ball could have gone anywhere, unfortunately for The Salmoners Cairns was in the right place at the right time (isn't he always) and slapped home the fourth. Now this was just getting silly.
Onwards, Holt was on the end of a patient build-up, he put some welly into a shot that warmed the solar plexus of a mithered mitter, Darwen decided to make a substitute and follow up with a move that saw No 6 (Jamie Edwards) get involved and a have decent attempt on goal - the ball flew just over. Soon after another Runcorn foray came but bore no fruit and then the guests produced a swift moment of interplay with No 7 (Sidi Fofana) and No 8 (Jordan Scott) combining and a cross coming in that saw No 4 (Tim Drugan) duly tap home. 4 - 1 - perhaps not game on but just reward for a perspired effort. Runcorn were re-sparked by this insult, a ball over the middle of the park allowed Cairns to thump forward a sublime volley. It was a technically sound strike and the save that stoppped it was first class indeed. Within seconds of this gratifying moment The Town rebuilt, Holt being the usual menace and working in and having time to shoot. He unselfishly laid the ball off for that unstoppable force Cairns, who tapped home and bagged his hat-trick. Only 2 minutes later and Holt was in again, leading the keeper a merry dance, weaving around the hollering mittman and tapping home for number 6. The guest No 1 (Thomas Scott) screamed a brace of 'fuck off's' in his frustration, a phrase he went on to repeat several times more before the night was done. He was one troubled man and yet produced his second stunning save of the night when No 9 (Mark Reed) collared a long ball, got through,confronted the last man standing and was denied by some fine reactions. A top class block that was worthy of mention. As the half entered the final stages Darwen still pounded the turf, still worked with spirit and Steele was unlucky not to get on the scoresheet after his long range effort looked set to sneak below the bar but was neatly tipped over by the home netter. Before the break Mr Holt for Runcorn was in again, he dealt with the keeper, rounded him with ease and from a few feet out...missed. It was a let off and sent the visiting in team with only a 5 goal deficit to turn around - oh my ruddy goodness.
Halftime and a wander, a chat with the daughter, tea and a Mars Bar and of course, the usual emptying of the bladder. Seats retaken and if this match has no further goals my prediction of 6 - 1 will be bang on the mark - as if!
The second half, Darwen came out with spirit, a few crosses, 2 corners and lots of energy were had but Runcorn had the first chance to ripple mesh when some choice wing work saw a low ball fly in to the perilous area and Holt pounce like a shithawk on a discarded sausage and get denied by yet another tip top save. A great moment all round and it looked as though the home lads were keen to go for the jugular however, if truth be told, they became somewhat complacent and took their eye off the ball and didn't press with any urgency. Saying that, Holt was the beneficiary of a pinging ball and let fly only to see a defensive muddle send the globe pinging off the bar - somehow the guests survived. A lazy midfield ball from Runcorns efficient Thelwell came next, the player fell to the floor with a niggle and Darwen swept forward. A clean cut passing move was had, a ball into the box played and No 9 (Ryan McKenna) slapped home to give the game its unexpected octo-strike. I scribbled away and tried to keep up with the overflow of action and when I looked up I saw Runcorn's No 2 (Liam Turner) put a ball on to the crust of Holt who duly nodded to the feet of No 6 (Paul McManus) who thumped home and graced the game with the best goal of the night. A beauty, the executioner looked chuffed to bits - take a bow sir, take a bow!
I was breathless with the action, I needed some respite but Runcorn came again, Reed inches away from connecting with a beautiful cross and snatching his own slice of success. The same bod followed this up with a perfect cross for Cairns who, in a quite uncharacteristic manner, nutted wide. Cairns had another rasp soon after, it was straight at the keepers midriff, you couldn't help but admire the frontman's hunger. A corner was given moments later, Thelwell made a nuisance of himself with a couple of disrupting headers and our friendly neighbourhood hotshot of the night scored his 4th and the small set of fans behind the goal began to chant. What an avalanche, what an unexpected night of manic football, the Non-League never fails to surprise. Darwen still, for all their worth, tried to pilfer what they could from this long lost affair, in the midst of the trouncing they still put in some half-decent moves. McKenna found space and shot off target, Edwards cracked one and forced a solid save and then Steele let fly but couldn't find the sweet spot. No 14 (Kevin Exell) for Runcorn had the next best chance, he shot and missed a golden chance but made up for it with a top drawer pass to Cairns who laid one on a plate for Mark Reed to tap home. Man, what a night!
At last a lull came, I put my proverbial feet up, the last 10 minutes where upon us. Holt for the hosts was still full of running (too many bags of Skittles methinks) and blazed one over from a few yards out and then Exell missed a glorious chance after a perfect cross fell at his tootsies. The game looked done, the result settled, another Runcorn attack came, the culmination of a good night's work was had as the ball was crossed and Cairns collected his set of five and brought the strike rate up to double figures for The Town. With the last seconds now ticking Darwen somehow found time to squeeze in one last move, the home lads dawdled and from a series of short passes Darwen's No 11 (Karl Turner) twatted one home and finalised the evenings events at 10 goals to 3. What an outcome and we trundled off home, chewing the cud and pondering many imponderables. Man of the Match goes to No 10 (Craig Cairns) for obvious reasons, the main one being his tireless efforts and his insatiable appetite for goals. Some strikers have something in their blood and when this mysterious strain is combined with quality you have a recipe for success. A Fungalpunk slap on the back fella - good on ya and long may your work ethic continue.
FINAL THOUGHT - Well, we came, we expected goals, we were given an overdose. Sometimes a trouncing is a far from entertaining contest but that was not the case tonight as both teams played with an openness that duly led to chance after chance and gave each and every onlooker no time to catch their breath. Runcorn Town are a darn good side who, during mid-season lost a bit of impetus and gave away their chance to be pushing for automatic escape. They will always be up in the higher echelons of this competitive division, it is just a matter of ironing out a few weak points and adding that bit of extra polish. They may have scored 10 goals tonight but it was obvious work in certain areas needs to be done. AFC Darwen are down and out but with the players they have will no doubt be bouncing back and rebuilding their reputation. They are better than what the scoreline and end current position suggests and for a club with such a good set-up I hope things turn around for them pretty soon. I hope to get up and visit their ground again very soon, and when I do I shall be hoping for a more charitable outcome for them.
As soon as the black clad official piped his pea the home team were straight at it like hungry dogs on a ham-shank. A high tossed ball was borne and duly grabbed by the ever industrious No 7 (Joe Holt). He worked inward from the emerald flanks, found an appropriate space at the angle and walloped home with forceful intent. Runcorn were not satisfied by the early taste of success and applied a nagging pressure the guests did well to partially resist. The Darwen lads did find room to manoevure and allow their No 10 (Ryan Steele) to thump in a long ranger after the home keeper went walkabout. The ball went shy of the sticks, it would have been a bonus strike back for sure. From here we peregrinated back to the opposite end of the field, a ball was played to No 10 (Craig Cairns) who, in his accurate and eye-catching striker's manner slotted home with comfortable ease. 2 - 0 and only 9 minutes on the clock. The game was hectic, Runcorn the main operators of the tempo nob (and what a nob at that) and Darwen mere slaves to the tempo, dashing hard to try and keep some semblance of order to the night's proceedings. Cairns was a persistent thorn in the visiting sides rear end, he punctured and prowled once more and contributed to a free-kick being won. No 5 (Simon Thelwell) stepped up, had what seemed an optimistic dig and saw the ball ping of the inside of the post and bring up a 3 goal lead (it seems that this was given as an own goal, did I blink and miss the obvious)? It was looking like a severely long night from the travelling pack but credit where credit is due and applause for them still trying to play football and work an opening. Alas, from little danger, Runcorn were given a chance to rub salt in a gaping gash when a lofted ball came in and the keeper came and fumbled. The loose ball could have gone anywhere, unfortunately for The Salmoners Cairns was in the right place at the right time (isn't he always) and slapped home the fourth. Now this was just getting silly.
Onwards, Holt was on the end of a patient build-up, he put some welly into a shot that warmed the solar plexus of a mithered mitter, Darwen decided to make a substitute and follow up with a move that saw No 6 (Jamie Edwards) get involved and a have decent attempt on goal - the ball flew just over. Soon after another Runcorn foray came but bore no fruit and then the guests produced a swift moment of interplay with No 7 (Sidi Fofana) and No 8 (Jordan Scott) combining and a cross coming in that saw No 4 (Tim Drugan) duly tap home. 4 - 1 - perhaps not game on but just reward for a perspired effort. Runcorn were re-sparked by this insult, a ball over the middle of the park allowed Cairns to thump forward a sublime volley. It was a technically sound strike and the save that stoppped it was first class indeed. Within seconds of this gratifying moment The Town rebuilt, Holt being the usual menace and working in and having time to shoot. He unselfishly laid the ball off for that unstoppable force Cairns, who tapped home and bagged his hat-trick. Only 2 minutes later and Holt was in again, leading the keeper a merry dance, weaving around the hollering mittman and tapping home for number 6. The guest No 1 (Thomas Scott) screamed a brace of 'fuck off's' in his frustration, a phrase he went on to repeat several times more before the night was done. He was one troubled man and yet produced his second stunning save of the night when No 9 (Mark Reed) collared a long ball, got through,confronted the last man standing and was denied by some fine reactions. A top class block that was worthy of mention. As the half entered the final stages Darwen still pounded the turf, still worked with spirit and Steele was unlucky not to get on the scoresheet after his long range effort looked set to sneak below the bar but was neatly tipped over by the home netter. Before the break Mr Holt for Runcorn was in again, he dealt with the keeper, rounded him with ease and from a few feet out...missed. It was a let off and sent the visiting in team with only a 5 goal deficit to turn around - oh my ruddy goodness.
Halftime and a wander, a chat with the daughter, tea and a Mars Bar and of course, the usual emptying of the bladder. Seats retaken and if this match has no further goals my prediction of 6 - 1 will be bang on the mark - as if!
The second half, Darwen came out with spirit, a few crosses, 2 corners and lots of energy were had but Runcorn had the first chance to ripple mesh when some choice wing work saw a low ball fly in to the perilous area and Holt pounce like a shithawk on a discarded sausage and get denied by yet another tip top save. A great moment all round and it looked as though the home lads were keen to go for the jugular however, if truth be told, they became somewhat complacent and took their eye off the ball and didn't press with any urgency. Saying that, Holt was the beneficiary of a pinging ball and let fly only to see a defensive muddle send the globe pinging off the bar - somehow the guests survived. A lazy midfield ball from Runcorns efficient Thelwell came next, the player fell to the floor with a niggle and Darwen swept forward. A clean cut passing move was had, a ball into the box played and No 9 (Ryan McKenna) slapped home to give the game its unexpected octo-strike. I scribbled away and tried to keep up with the overflow of action and when I looked up I saw Runcorn's No 2 (Liam Turner) put a ball on to the crust of Holt who duly nodded to the feet of No 6 (Paul McManus) who thumped home and graced the game with the best goal of the night. A beauty, the executioner looked chuffed to bits - take a bow sir, take a bow!
I was breathless with the action, I needed some respite but Runcorn came again, Reed inches away from connecting with a beautiful cross and snatching his own slice of success. The same bod followed this up with a perfect cross for Cairns who, in a quite uncharacteristic manner, nutted wide. Cairns had another rasp soon after, it was straight at the keepers midriff, you couldn't help but admire the frontman's hunger. A corner was given moments later, Thelwell made a nuisance of himself with a couple of disrupting headers and our friendly neighbourhood hotshot of the night scored his 4th and the small set of fans behind the goal began to chant. What an avalanche, what an unexpected night of manic football, the Non-League never fails to surprise. Darwen still, for all their worth, tried to pilfer what they could from this long lost affair, in the midst of the trouncing they still put in some half-decent moves. McKenna found space and shot off target, Edwards cracked one and forced a solid save and then Steele let fly but couldn't find the sweet spot. No 14 (Kevin Exell) for Runcorn had the next best chance, he shot and missed a golden chance but made up for it with a top drawer pass to Cairns who laid one on a plate for Mark Reed to tap home. Man, what a night!
At last a lull came, I put my proverbial feet up, the last 10 minutes where upon us. Holt for the hosts was still full of running (too many bags of Skittles methinks) and blazed one over from a few yards out and then Exell missed a glorious chance after a perfect cross fell at his tootsies. The game looked done, the result settled, another Runcorn attack came, the culmination of a good night's work was had as the ball was crossed and Cairns collected his set of five and brought the strike rate up to double figures for The Town. With the last seconds now ticking Darwen somehow found time to squeeze in one last move, the home lads dawdled and from a series of short passes Darwen's No 11 (Karl Turner) twatted one home and finalised the evenings events at 10 goals to 3. What an outcome and we trundled off home, chewing the cud and pondering many imponderables. Man of the Match goes to No 10 (Craig Cairns) for obvious reasons, the main one being his tireless efforts and his insatiable appetite for goals. Some strikers have something in their blood and when this mysterious strain is combined with quality you have a recipe for success. A Fungalpunk slap on the back fella - good on ya and long may your work ethic continue.
FINAL THOUGHT - Well, we came, we expected goals, we were given an overdose. Sometimes a trouncing is a far from entertaining contest but that was not the case tonight as both teams played with an openness that duly led to chance after chance and gave each and every onlooker no time to catch their breath. Runcorn Town are a darn good side who, during mid-season lost a bit of impetus and gave away their chance to be pushing for automatic escape. They will always be up in the higher echelons of this competitive division, it is just a matter of ironing out a few weak points and adding that bit of extra polish. They may have scored 10 goals tonight but it was obvious work in certain areas needs to be done. AFC Darwen are down and out but with the players they have will no doubt be bouncing back and rebuilding their reputation. They are better than what the scoreline and end current position suggests and for a club with such a good set-up I hope things turn around for them pretty soon. I hope to get up and visit their ground again very soon, and when I do I shall be hoping for a more charitable outcome for them.
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