For the final game of the tournament I was joined by a bit of family, the wife, the son and the Holy Spirit himself - Trev - along with another couple of hundred people who decided watching an England side in any form is a bit of an attraction to say the least. Sadly for them this England was without a Beckham, Owen or a Rooney - although there was a broken metatarsal in the shape of my big toe comically broken earlier in the day playing barefoot football. To be fair it wasn't the most interesting of contests this one, and also to be fair the result wasn't a true reflection of the game, as England looked the better of the two sides and with the English keeper Farai (Faz) Jackson putting in some sterling stops when Belgium threatened. Sadly half way through the first half Faz put in another fantastic stop, only to see Karim Chaibai (not exactly Paul Van Himst - eh Macca?) tap in a tame rebound, and after that England were chasing it. The second half Chaibai hit us with another on the break, before the crowd went nuts as England had a shot - yes we'd dominated possession, yet never shot at goal... go figure - a free kick from Michael Lyons bulging the net. The hope was short-lived as almost immediately Amar Zouggaghi (un nom très Belge) made it three-one, although as with all things futsal delays aren't acceptable, and England nearly clocked one back whilst the Belgians were still celebrating with their fans - almost comedy at its best. As it was that's how it ended, a bit of a tame end to the season for sadly, I suppose I'll get on to watching the Fußballweltmeisterschaft with the rest of the hordes... see you next season, COME ON ENGLAND!!!

 

 

 

The visitors though, despite their lowly position, are no whipping boys - in fact Horsforth St Margaret's have been in a little bit of form of late. The trouble is for them, is the word on the street is they won't be playing at this level next season, so for them to bow out on a low of finishing at the foot of the table is pretty grim. Pride would be the key word today for them, but it made me recall a few seasons back, when I covered the title run-in of the West Riding Premier Division. The last game of the season saw Silsden need a point to win the title, their visitors were Otley who needed a point to avoid relegation, guess what happened? Yep, goal-less draw and boredom for ninety minutes, but today wasn't set up like that, Beeston needed a WIN to take the title - Horsforth needed a WIN to stay up - my prediction? Well seeing as the witnesses to my guess read this bloody column, I can't lie - 13-0 to Beeston. It had shock result written all over it, especially after I'd opened me gob! So the stage was set, the wind was howling a gale (we were on a hill, or had I not mentioned that?) and the home team were kicking in the teeth off it for the first half. So as you'd expect the champions elect pounded the little team, but to no effect - and the visitors seemed content to boot the ball up the other end to survive another onslaught, not pretty but effective. The first half went in a flash, and my thirteen goal rout prediction was already been ridiculed, with the Horsforth keeper being somewhat "inspired". That ridicule got even worse on the hour, as playing into the wind the visitors finally got out of their half (a real rarity, trust me) and the Horsforth substitute whacked the ball from thirty yards out - now normally this should have sailed over the keeper, the bar, the dressing rooms and onto Elland Road, but somehow as the ball went over the keeper the wind stopped the ball dead in the air and it dropped like a rock.... into the net - 0-1! How it went in defies all realms of footballing physics, but now Beeston needed two, otherwise the West Yorkshire League officials would have to smuggle the trophy back to the car for the second week running. It went from bad to worse though as Horsforth got a second through another substitute, and then made the whole day ruined through the home number ten seeing red for a "foul" (nay, t'was an assault sir) on his opposite number, literally booting him in the air. It had all gone pear-shaped, and the curse of Jamesie struck once more, Horsforth though had survived bottom spot and celebrated - good luck to them whatever the future brings. At the end I naturally scurried up the hill making a hasty exit, no time for post-mortems, just in case the little man from the WYAFL saw me and recognised me - he didn't look to pleased I must say.... 

 

 

 

....or not as it turns out. What the bloody hell did the students think they would attract in the NCEL? I thought we rattled around the Don Valley when we lived there, but turning up at the Carnegie to find (other than the Nostell boys and a local referee) I was the only one there, either no-one was interested (unlikely seeing as this had been bulled up on the WYAFL forum as "the big one" - first versus second) or it was too early on a Saturday morning for bloody lazy arsed students. I'll put it down to the latter, as by the end a few long haired types came, saw, didn't like what they saw, so they went. I suppose the "ground" wasn't exactly the best in the world; nice pitch, but no cover or dug-outs or... well nowt really - if they wanna progress they've gotta move! I also suppose the weather wasn't the nicest, in fact it finally brought out the debut of my "football brolly" - bought for me about four years ago for £15 in the case of being stuck in the middle of nowhere with the rain bucketing down - it must have been bad for that to happen, I hate umbrellas! So with the fifty or so Nostell posse, the rain chucking it down, and me poncing about sous mon parapluie the game got under way - and the first thing I have to say is this "I can see how the students managed to run away with the league", my God they were fit! I don't mean that in any disturbing fashion, what I mean is all of them (barring one or two) were above six foot tall, and all could play as actors in Dream Team. That doesn't necessarily make them a great side, but they certainly made a good Nostell side (I've seen a fair bit of them over the years so I can vouch for this) look like codgers, with the visitors blowing a few minutes into the game as their hosts ran them ragged. Nostell's keeper Chris Darby was the only thing that was keeping the Leeds side at bay, tipping one piledriver onto the bar, and watching as countless others flew past the goal. Eventually the pressure told, Darby missed a corner, the ball bounced all over the shop and hit defender Matt Wilkinson on the arm. The penalty was duly dispatched by James Elliot, and that it seemed was that, all we had to wait for was for the final capitulation and the students to add to their previous 95 goals. It didn't happen, Nostell made up for the hosts superior energy levels with some classic tactical nous, and Wilkinson turned from villain to hero and knocked home a Craig Stephens' corner to equalise. Now it was Nostell that were on top, and with the students only needing a point, it was they who were hanging on for the rest of the first half with the visitors producing some excellent football. With about ten minutes to go it looked like the job was done and the Met had weathered the storm, then another Stephens' corner was headed back across goal by Martyn Hewitt, and the ball was stabbed home by Chris Robson. Cue panic, cue the WYAFL bloke smuggling the cup back to his car, and cue the urgent calls on mobile phones by fellas in Beeston St Anthony's tracksuits. The students hadn't got the point they needed, all they needed though was for Beeston NOT to win their last three games and the title could still be theirs, but that as they say is another story....

 

 

 

 

Footnote - The Saturday after this game Atherstone faced fourth placed Feckenham in the final league game of the season, they needed a point to lift the title - they drew two-all again to scrape through on goal-difference in front of 564 spectators. When I say scraped through, their +104 was "marginally" better than second placed Coventry Sphinx's +89 - both teams finished on 103 points!

 

 

 

Why then Northfield Town, I hear you ask, surely you must have had some reason to thinking there would be a wad of goals? Well I did, and that reason was the visitors, Loughborough Football Club - officially (or not as the case may be) the worst team I have ever seen play the beautiful game. So bad were they, I decided NOT to finish an article I was writing about them for fear of litigation, they were that bad - ON the field I hasten to add, not OFF (although, there were some quirks I'll share with anyone personally if they ask nicely). Northfield on the other hand were pushing for the league title, fighting against Knowle in a two-horse race (with a all or nothing decider between the two to come on May Day), and had been plopping goals in for fun in the recent weeks that had elevated them to second spot. This season though Loughborough hadn't been that bad, but when you couple Northfield's form with a six o'clock kick off on Easter Monday evening one hour and twenty minutes drive away - you doubt there'd be many wanting to commit to giving up a Bank Holiday to be beaten, thus would Loughborough send their best squad? To answer this I can't tell you the truth, the thing I can tell you though was my instincts score-wise were correct, and Northfield looked as though they had some decent players in their team. The first half saw the goals come thick and fast, with their number six (and Henrik Larsson look-a-like in a Sweden look-a-like kit) really orchestrating things on the park, and scoring one and setting up to before half time. To say Loughborough were outclassed is no surprise, but no disgrace either, Northfield were a class act for this level of football - as was the linesman on the far side of the pitch. Yep, so iconic was this person we had to go round to the cricket pitch side of the ground to get a closer look before the light faded, he looked t'riffic. I know it isn't supposed to be clever or nice to mock people's style or looks, but this man was a cross between Boris Karloff and Peter Stringfellow - a true icon - so much so I had to be restrained from asking if he was wearing a leopard-skin thong under his shorts. But I digress, it has been a long day, and without a teamsheet to tell you the names of the scorers - all I can say is Northfield went on to make it six, it could have been twelve and one kid must have spurned about five sitters. At the end I think Loughborough were just relieved to get this fixture out of the way, as would I to be honest, and for Northfield it was just another step on their way to title glory. And if it comes their way, well sadly promotion will be denied if they don't move grounds - another reason for coming here I suppose, but then I only just this minute realised this - so a goal-fest AND a last chance to see Northfield at their "old" ground? That remains to be seen....

 

 

 

I have a jinx over Teversal, like poor old Yorkshire Main, I've never ever seen Tevie win a game - which is why I tend to keep a low profile when I go and see them, in case someone twigs and lynches me. To be fair they aren't doing that well themselves really, after being promoted from the CMFL, and are finding life in the Northern Counties a bit tricky. Perhaps Tevie could surprise me and win tonight, then again I could get a grip on reality and say that won't happen, look at the top of the page and you'll see they didn't. Sorry to say things looked bleak from the Notts lads inside the first ten minutes, Sean Black swept a cross in for Hall Road, the ball even having time to bounce in off both posts before settling in the net. The wind picked up a bit after what had been a pretty nice day, and I thought that it had a big part to play on Hall Road's total domination of the game, although the finishing said a bit about their league position - if they'd been any good they'd have been five up by the time the second went in. That happened about five minutes before half time, when Teversal failed to fully clear a corner and Jamie Barnwell thumped the ball past the keeper, and as far as a contest was concerned - it was over. Barnwell got a second midway through the second half, a true poacher's goal, volleying in a Richard (Dick - you lot do the puns) Tracey cross, and five minutes later Tracey set up Adam Walker who lobbed the keeper to make it 4-0. Then THE goal of the game, probably one of those when you ask the question right at the start of this article Teversal's Lee Rhodes will say "this one" - a true cracker from about forty-five yards out that left Hall Road's keeper looking lost. Dick Tracey wrapped things up ten minutes from time, although I can't tell you much about it as I was busy reading a text message about what the plans are for Easter Monday (yes, feel guilty if you are reading this), but apparently he took the ball around the keeper and walked it into the net. Overall it was a pretty good game, to be truthful I was surprised just how good (for the neutral anyway), and it took Hall Road to "almost" safety. To all the guys at Teversal, I'm so sorry! I'm sure you could have won if I wasn't there, but having said that I know how you feel Lee Rhodes - at least you didn't have to rush some soft lass to hospital midway through the game!

 

 

I know I've not said anything about the visitors, but as I said in the last Jaunt my geography gets ropey around these parts, and I was under the impression that Narborough and Littlethorpe were two separate teams - 180 minutes of footy straight through! Obviously not, but I still know very little about them, apart from they looked a right load of ragamuffins when they ambled out on to the park - especially when you looked at the immaculately turned out Ashby side (but as we know that means nowt in football). A cursory look at the map while I was hiding in my car before the game showed both villages, Littlethorpe and Narborough, were in the same motorway triangle (M1, M6, M69) as Lutterworth - although a little higher North. So there you have it, you know as much as me now, apart from they looked after the first five minutes of action like they were going to take a right thumping on the pitch. Then something strange happened - you know when a team dominates possession, territory and then decides to play the ball back to involve the keeper? You do, right then - that happened here, Ashby pushed wave after wave forward, then played the ball back to their keeper Andy Beeston who placed the ball onto the arse of Danny Bailey who'd gambled and rushed the keeper - the ball spun off his arse, over Beeston's head and into the net, Ashby were losing! And despite all the pressure to the contrary, that's how it remained at the break, and everyone trudged over to the tea-trolley for the well publicised free biscuits. After the restart it was more of the same, Ashby pressing whilst the visitors wasted as much time as possible, a bit like the Tottenham versus West Bromwich game if you saw it. Then as expected the dam burst and on the hour the scores were level, with Rob Debney finding Kevin Lock in space to fire home his twenty-eighth goal of the season, all of a sudden it looked as if the home team had smelled blood and were in for the kill. Some more attacking and Narborough scrambling ensued, but with fifteen minutes to go Ashby took the lead, after Dan Dowling’s searching ball found Lock unmarked to side foot the ball home on the volley for his second of the game. The game was wrapped up seconds from the end of the game, in fact as I was wandering round to the car park actually, Dan Gough hit a vicious shot which the keeper Dave Graham could only parry and Rob Bartholomew was on hand to stab home from a yard out. Well deserved it has to be said (putting Ashby just one point behind the leaders), and once again my faith in this league's football has been restored, with some pretty good football on display. I suppose after this week and last, my next trip will have to be a trip to Birstall United and St Andrews - no hang on, only kidding....

 

 

They sing a song round these parts - "Won't pay Glazer, or work for Sky - still sing City's gonna die. Two Uniteds but the soul is one, 'cos the Busby Babes carry on" - I guess that sums up where they come from opinion wise anyway. The football though seemed like a side-show for the first half, the fans sang and the players had a kickabout on the muddy patch in the middle, but neither seemed interested in the other - in the first half as I said. Then ten minutes before the end of a pretty lifeless first half, the unthinkable happened - Flixton scored! For the best part of the half I'd sat there wondering why these people (and there were enough of them) were here, one fourteen year old chav-like-individual had got too excited on White Lightning and decided to try and take on twenty pretty big stewards in unarmed combat (the chief steward eventually saying enough is enough and picking him up single-handed and lobbing him out), and that was it... apart from shivering enough to mix myself a good cocktail. Then as I said FCUM were losing; a corner came across a Flixton player at the edge of the area swung a foot wildly at the ball, everyone jeered but before anyone could shout "Taxi" the ball spun out to Graham Vaughan who curled it in from twenty-five yards - certainly put a halt to the cat-calls! Then the second half came, quite amusingly too, as the Flixton keeper Andy Robertson trotted to the Manchester Road end to the calls of "You fat bastard" - and in true keeper style, acted a prize plonker and gave some back. You just knew there would be tears before bedtime, even though when the FCUM fans chanted "can you hear the keeper sing", he thought it wise to sing in reply "the Flixton" (clap, clap, clap!). Five minutes in and the visitors were two up, much to the delight of their twenty or so followers, when centre half Jamie Bates put in a defence splitting pass to Lee Wilkinson who had no trouble lifting the ball over the home keeper Barrie George. The home team started to pile on the pressure but Flixton's keeper was in fine form, not just in humour but with his hands too, and even when facing six up front Flixton repelled everything and anything. The shock result looked on the cards, but with six minutes to go the hosts were given a bit of a lifeline when the referee awarded a penalty for handball against number four Mark Ayres, Robertson though wasn't going to let this stop him and promptly saved the spot-kick from Rory Patterson. A minute later FCUM finally scrambled the ball in from a yard out, I think David Chadwick getting the last touch, before everyone decided to get involved in some of that cage fighting that Mike Tyson's promoting - with about twenty players, the referee and half a dozen stewards (no not kidding) all deciding to have a scrap in the back of the net - entertaining but not pretty. Overall I guess that's how you could sum up the night in general; it's a long time since I openly laughed so much at a football game, but the quality on the field... well, bloody awful! As for the enigma that is FCUM, well I'm still not sure I get it, after all what if the Glazers went and Manchester United ceased to be a much maligned PLC - would FC United of Manchester also cease to exist? To be truthful I don't know either, but one week after this game another of the AFC phenomena up the road at Barnsley did just that, what's to say the same won't happen here?

Gainsborough Trinity 1 Northwich Victoria 2
Nationwide Conference North
Tuesday 14/03/06

Something about cold weather that makes my brain cease to work, and boy has it been cold these last few days, and boy haven't I been dim! Someone once said this of me, "He doesn't talk very often, but when he engages in conversation he talks rubbish - silence suits him!" A lot of you would question whether the first part of that assessment is true, but most who know me would agree that the second part of this statement is true beyond words; however when it is cold I find even the most basic things hard to say. Let's say for example I want to ring up to see if a game is on, not hard normally you'd think, but tonight with games falling by the wayside at regular intervals and options running out fast my brain just went offline completely, and boy when you go offline someone is always there to take the Mick. "Hello, Gennsburry Trinny Football Clurb" "Hiya, erm yeah, erm is tonight's game on tonight?" "Erm, no it's on tommorrer!" "What? You serious?" "Course not son, when else would tonight's game be on, Course it's on tonight!" I hate smart arses, especially when they make you feel a complete and utter twonk, and a twonk I certainly felt. "So, it isn't off then?" "No, that's what I mean when I said it's on!" I bet this guy's thinking I'm on to a right winner here.... "Here, Bert. Oi've just had this bloke on the phone..." So at least I had a game to go to, the first time in a month, and of all things it's a game at a place where I've been before, being played between two teams I've seen before and in the coldest temperatures I've experienced for some time. Not so much of a Jaunt as a "get some football in before you go mad" experience, and I'll tell you this I certainly need some football; I'm going stir crazy here!

It must be some time since I saw a game at Gainsborough, I'm not sure but I think it might have been an under 19s game with Sheffield, but I may be wrong - if it was it's a helluva long time since I saw Trinny's first team play then. It always gets me how few people they get here watching, after all two good seasons and they could be a league team once more, though somehow I can't see that happening. To tell the truth tonight isn't one of those nights that is going to bring in the punters, after all as I've said the weather isn't the most pleasant, and the Trinny aren't doing that hot either. The crowd (if you can call it a crowd) was officially reported as 255 for this one, but most of them seemed to be following the "Trickies" with the majority present sporting some kind of green, even yours truly - although that's just because the Celtic scarf was the first I pulled out of the boot in an attempt to recreate my famous “Baron von Nanouk of Gleadless” look. I sometimes wish the Coach and Horses was a bit more like Northolme when I come here, which I have to say is one of my more favoured grounds in the North of England, but every time I start wandering down that little avenue of imagination I get back on the reality check - it's taken a helluva lot of years to get this ground like this, and the Coach will develop in its own unique little way eventually. I think one of the reasons I like it here is the tidiness of the place, although it has to be said the toilets there could do with a lightbulb at least, and the fact you seem to be able to have an unobstructed elevated view from any of the four sides is an absolute bonus. The only thing really missing is a bit of atmosphere, although the Blues bar was fairly lively before the game, but that was probably due to the number of people who'd travelled across from Northwich. And they seem to have a pretty decent following if truth be known, but I guess that must be down to the fact the team is doing pretty well once more, after being forcibly relegated at the end of last season. The 150 or so who made the journey seemed intent on enjoying themselves, and made most of the noise on the night, God only knows what it would have been like if they HADN'T been there!

Despite my earlier concerns the pitch wasn't in too bad nick, might have been a bit heavy in places, but there was none of the frost that had put paid to the majority of the games that night. The game itself was a pretty lively affair to say the least, both teams were on the scoreboard inside the opening quarter of an hour, and as expected it was the Trickies who took the lead. Mike Byrne exchanged a series of passes with Chris Williams for the visitors, before Byrne let rip to beat Trinny's keeper Jamie Holshaw from just inside the area. It was a clinical move but within a minute the scores were level, barely giving the visiting supporters time to celebrate, when Eric Graves made a probing run down the right channel and found Jamie Smith, who left two defenders in his wake before prodding the ball past the advancing Kris Rogers. Any thoughts or hopes this gave me of experiencing an all action goal-fest soon went out the window, as the rest of the half turned into a scrappy midfield battle, with the thought of the return journey home to warmth looking all the more appealing. On the hour Northwich got the all decisive second, Paul Brayson created the opportunity with a slick passing move which ended with Chris Williams beating Holmshaw with a rasping drive from the edge of the penalty area. After that it was all Northwich, with the home team showing as much interest as the apathetic home support, and to be fair the visitors could have made it more emphatic if Byrne and Brayson had been able to convert two (bloody easy to be honest) chances in the last fifteen minutes. Overall though it felt a bit of a let down, despite the supposed higher level of football, the quality of the game has been matched and bettered (for me at least) in games of much lesser standard this season. Northwich's supporters will get their just desserts and get the return to their rightful spot in the Conference, as for Gainsborough - well let's say they'll survive another season at this level, I just wish they could get the support behind them to do a bit more than that.

 

 

 

 

To say the pitch was a bit on t' heavy side is a bit of an understatement - "God's Green Acre" looked more like "God's Spud Patch" after about ten minutes of play - but at least with all the rain they had got the game on. It was obvious Chapel looked the higher placed of the two sides, they even looked the more professionally dressed side (not that this normally matters), and it was they who were absolutely hammering the visitors' goal. About thirty minutes in the home team were awarded a penalty after Milton's Mark Kay tripped Alex Vincent in the area - up stepped Mark Hawtin to slide the ball through the mud past the visitors' keeper Tom Ryan. At this stage I expected the floodgates to open, but some slack defending from Chapel five minutes before the interval allowed Steve Omrod to be unmarked in the area, he in turn back-heeled the ball through for young Chris Freer to slot the ball under the home keeper Andrew Annison. One each at half time was hardly a just scoreline, and although I was torn between wanting see a good goal-fest and a feisty battle from the away team, it was obvious the home manager was a bit pissed off with his side's lack of finishing ability (you could hear him quite well from the tea-room). Milton were buoyed by the stalemate and could have taken the lead early on, when only the post denied Dave Hunt from scoring an unlikely goal - on the hour though they fell behind and never regained parity again. A clever through ball from Chapel's centre-forward Ray Dwolitka found Chris Carrington on the left, who had little trouble slotting the ball under the keeper's body, and a couple of minutes later it was 3-1 when Paul Egerton crossed the ball to Hawtin who headed the ball through Ryan's legs for his second. Milton made the game interesting with fifteen minutes left when Simon Mills fed the ball through to Steve Ormrod for an easy looking goal, but any signs of this being a nervy contest were thrown asunder a few minutes later after Paul Egerton volleyed a throw-in from near his own goal line up field, the ball got caught on the wind and totally screwed up the Milton defence leaving Carrington the simplest of tasks of strolling the ball round the keeper to make it 4-2. The fact that the visitors had no substitutes to call on in the last few minutes started to tell, the fifth goal was always going to be inevitable - it was just going to be a question of when - and it came in the last seconds of the game from Alex Vincent who slammed home after a neat ball from substitute Rob O'Gara. So the game went to form, and the score was probably an accurate reflection of the game itself, leaving Chapel still breathing down the necks of the top two. My overall impressions of Chapel is they will probably progress a lot further than the Manchester League, and I wouldn't be surprised if we end up meeting them some way down the line, although seeing as they've chosen to go the west route - it'll be a bit longer than I'd have liked.

 

 

 

So let me set the scene for you - I turn up at Station Road at a reasonable time, go to the pay-gate and pay my £2.00, nip to the loo and head back to the car to have a two minute read of the programme. I head back into the ground about five minutes before kick off, the skies are clear and it is relatively warm, but something just wasn't right - I had a hunch (me and Newark, remember), so went back to the car for my raincoat. The gateman made a quip, something like "if we charged you everytime you came through here..." to which I just had to tell them my hunch about the "imminent rain" of which there was no sign before heading off to spend the game with our local Central Midlands expert Richard Lane and his lad Rick. Five minutes into the game the heavens opened - slowly at first - then it was everyone pile into the stand to take shelter, which was fine except the rain was blowing INTO the stand. About ten minutes into the game we got the first goal; Newark player manager (actually joint manager, really) Brett McNamara put a corner into the area, and some pretty generous defending from Blidworth allowed Jonno Wright to nod effortlessly into the goal. A bit of a gift really, but not as big a gift as what was handed to the home side ten minutes later, as Blidworth defender Dale Crowder planted an exquisitely placed lob from over 35 yards out over the keeper's head and into the net - his own net that is, and under no pressure - an absolute classic! Blidworth managed to stick another in their own net just before the break, however that was ruled out for pushing, but you started to get the feeling this could be a big score. After the half time respite of a hot mug of tea in the bar courtesy of my good friend, it was back out to the elements and more Newark goals no doubt - well, not exactly because Blidworth turned the tables somewhat. A few minutes in the visitors pulled one back, the substitute Ricky Law took a free-kick from 25 yards that beat the wall and the keeper Mark Everington, who took the option of standing stock still and watching the ball slither home. The visitors had an opportunity to draw level midway through the half, John Greaves raced onto a through ball and poked it beyond Everington into the empty net, unfortunately for him Newark's other joint manager Tony Joynes raced back to hook the ball of the line - just in time. With the slippy conditions some of challenges were a little (shall we say) rash, with one particular effort from Ricky Law on McNamara causing the home guy some pain, with tempers fraying all around McNamara offered to fight a Blidworth official in the car park after the game - I'm sure they didn't mean it - but it was entertaining! Anyway Newark managed to hold on, but I suppose based on the balance of play they deserved it in the end, and the time to get my car out of the mud was at hand. I'd have loved to have stopped for the boxing match in the car park afterwards, but you know...

 

 

At the start of the day LSS had the perfect record, played six won six, but the opposition hadn't been that hot prior to today. Santos (who plays football in its purest form) had started with a mixed bag, but they were to be the hardest test to LSS to date, so we should have been in for a good game. Despite the day being pretty sunny, there was a fairly strong breeze blowing towards the clubhouse, which normally I'd swear would dictate the shape of the game and also where you get to stand - I guess you could say we were wrong there. Santos kicked off into the breeze and dominated, and they took the lead on twenty five minutes when leading scorers Liam Hearn stuck the ball in the back of the net with a sweeping move, and on cue out came the notebooks of the hoppers - as you gather I tend to frown on these sort of things, keep it in the head I do. They could have gone further in front if Hearn hadn't hit the square cross-bar (what would have happened if it was round?), and they also had a fair few other chances, but they were good value for the lead - even if it was only by the one goal. At half time the LSS guys were stinging, they'd not played that hot and looked to be a bunch of prima donnas and pretty boys, but two minutes after the restart they got back into the game with a bit of fortune as the Santos number two turned the ball into his own net under rather minimal pressure. Now it was game on for real and LSS obviously wanted the record to continue, and midway through the half they got their noses in front with another goal, this time Dean Bailie was the scorer and it appeared Santos had shot their bolt. Well there's an old saying about chickens, eggs and hatching and not doing any accounting work on the said products and LSS learned that the hard way today. Seconds to go in the game the ball is hurled forward in a last ditch attempt, everyone stood still and let Hearn (I'd mentioned to Mr X he was good) run through un-checked, and with all the poise and guile of a little English Shevchenko he lofted the ball twenty feet directly into the air over the head of Leigh Graves in the LSS goal and it plummeted directly into the net - two each and no time to restart. Well that was the icing on the cake of a good game, the LSS players (especially the number six who had a seizure) went nuts with each other, and the 100% record had gone. For Mr X it was a trip back down the motorway, for me it was back to the seaside to chav it up on the 2p slots with me wife and kid, living it up or what. ♫ Oh I do like to be beside the seaside.... ♫

 

 

As for the game, well the visitors on this momentous event were the mighty Clipstone Welfare, who aren't having too good a time of things and are going through what could be called a "transitional" period. They still had some recognisable faces in the squad though, and they were never going to be pushovers for Radcliffe, but it was going to be a struggle to get something out of this difficult figure - and so it proved. Radcliffe had got off to a fairly decent start to the season and were looking to maintain a 100% home record, after two pretty impressive home wins, only a defeat at Dinnington had spoiled their record. Well Olympic got off to the dream start about five minutes in, Glyn Woodhouse threaded the ball through to Chris Atkins whose pace left the defence for dead, it was then a simple enough task to lift the ball over Neil West in the Clippo goal. One thing that got me about the game was the good nature it was played in, but that atmosphere was propagated by the referee - a man who had boundless lung capacity (I'm sure you understand what I mean!) For ninety minutes he chirped on, giving his version of events to players who were long past caring about whether it was handball or not, "it couldn't have been handball, he had his hands by his side. You can't give a penalty for that can you? No, and that's why I didn't give it. Although if he'd have done this with his hand...." and so on - ninety non-stop bloody minutes. Don't get me wrong he was probably the best referee I'd seen at this level, but God did he have an "off" button? No he didn't, and on he went "you'll have to go to the sideline if you call the trainer on, yes it is a stupid rule and I don't like it either, but then I didn't write it did I? No, I'm sure there's a more sensible thing we can do, but while ever it's a rule..." Anyway the game went along in this vein throughout, and with the ref keeping the game flowing it made for a good spectacle, a spectacle made all the more interesting at 8.00 pm as the lights crackled into life - and pretty good they looked too, and the darker it got the better the lights' quality was apparent. About the hour mark Radcliffe got a second, Richards dribbled through the Clipstone defence before being upended, and whilst the penalty appeals were being waved away (and explained why) by our lovable referee, Richard Bramley cracked the ball into the net from inside the box. That was it as far as scoring was concerned, with both sides having a couple of chances to add to the tally, but with the home team having it under control there was only going to be one winner. With a few minutes to go, I slipped out and up the bank to the car, viewing the last moments of floodlit action below. It occurred to me, as it had done n the past at other places, if this team wants to get any further up the pyramid some radical work will need to be done. But based on what they've done so far in such a short period of time, it has to be said if any team can get further it is Radcliffe, they certainly do have a bright future ahead.

 

 

I don't know what I was expecting when I got to Grimsby, a roped-ff park at best I guess, but when the directions took me through the grounds of the college I feared the worst - after all how can you develop a school field? Well developed it they had, and a large blue screen had been put up to enclose the pitch into a conventional ground, with permanent perimeter barriers around the pitch and brand new hard-standing down one side towards the pavilion. How do I know it was new? The guy was still concreting it, that's how - and bits were still wet (which I'll come to in a bit). The visitors to this midweek fixture were Thorne Colliery, the team that looked odds on for bottom spot last season, and avoided re-election with a late spurt. It was going to be an interesting contest, and one that would give me an idea of how well Thorne's improvement had continued, along with answering the question about Grimsby's promotion credentials. On a warm evening the game set off at lightning pace, with both teams attacking and counter-attacking in turn, with both keepers getting an injury in the first fifteen minutes. Midway through the first half Grimsby took the lead, seconds after I'd tried returning the ball to the pitch with a beautifully curled left-footer, which had managed to knock three stools and some rope into a patch of wet concrete on it's way! Whilst I'm stood feeling embarrassed at this, Grimsby's top scorer Lee Stephenson scrambled the concrete covered ball over the line - but only just. Stephenson was causing Thorne the most problems, a fact picked up on by the visiting coach who gave the best advice I'd heard in years - "Grab his dick if you have to, just don't let him run!" Thorne piled on the pressure forcing a few corners and going close on more than one occasion, then sickeningly they got hit on the break with a long clearance setting Chris Grocock free, with the goal at his mercy he squared the ball unselfishly to Stephenson who tapped it in. Words of wisdom from Thorne's coach - "How the fuck are we two down?" - don't know mate, seriously, I have no idea! Borough looked to have all three points sewn up at this point; they'd started with a clean sheet the weekend prior, and looked solid until a mad five minute spell saw Thorne draw level. Gavin Redfern got both of them, the first after he'd hit the post and tapped in the rebound, the second from the spot after a pretty dodgy looking call by the ref. That woke the home team up, and if it wasn't for the heroics of Thorne's keeper Simon Cook it could have been a cricket score, but with fifteen minutes to go Grimsby got the winner - a corner from substitute Lee Romaniw hammered home at the back post by hat-trick boy Lee Stephenson. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, a tired looking Thorne had no way back, and despite their best efforts the weren't to trouble the scoreboard again. Which leaves me to answer a few questions: How good are Thorne? Much better, and they won't finish in the bottom three - trust me. How good are Grimsby? The game after this one they won 7-0 away, they will be there or thereabouts at the season's end. And the ground? Well put it this way, they'll need to get floodlights soon and there's a patch of concrete near the pavilion that needs touching up a bit....

 

 

It turns out we were in with both Ħamrun AND Floriana, whilst the rest of the ground was occupied with Marsaxlokk (albeit sparsely) and Valletta fans, obviously with a view to having each teams' fans either only bothering to watch their own team or staying on as a passive neutral. And that's how it worked out, the 500 or so AC Milan clad Ħamrun fans made their way to the exits, their places being taken by 1,000 Juve-alike (but in green) Floriana massive - "tonight" I told Liam "we are Floriana fans!" Now I'm sure I've mentioned somewhere in this column in the past about how I'd never seen the home team lose in a European game (Milan, APOEL, Barcelona, Europa and Calais all won at home), well how do you gauge this one? After all this game was being held in a neutral stadium, though the programme did list Valletta first, would that make them the home team? Was I sitting in the visiting enclosure? Well Valletta DID get given a larger share of the ground, either way I wasn't going to ask what must appear to most a pretty mundane question. When the game got under way it was in the most exciting fashion, hardly ninety seconds had passed and Floriana were 1-0 in front with Christian Cassar's great free-kick from thirty yards out giving Miguel Montfort no chance in the Valletta net. I took an instant shine to Floriana's little number eight, he was all over the place (and that was admirable given the bloody heat) and he nearly doubled the lead midway through the half when he took another free-kick, this time from near the halfway line - everyone lined up for the cross, but he shot instead and hit the bar! The mood was good with the Greens and it looked like they were going to get their first three points of the season, that was until just before half time when Valletta's Gilbert Agius served Ian Zammit on the right who in turn took advantage of the sloppy defence to nip the ball in. That woke up the sleeping Valletta Ultras who started barraging their counterparts with abuse and vitriol, who in turn gave it all back with interest, typical stirring Derby stuff! The second half though drifted through uneventfully, with no-one doing owt to trouble the flickering scoreboard, even both sets of fans seemed to chill a bit - as did the temperature. A bit sad really seeming neither side wanted to lose, and were both satisfied getting their points tally ticking away, either way they'll have to pull their socks up if they are going to be challenging for honours come the season's end. Anyway the following day the national paper l-orizzont's headline screamed "Punt li ma jikkuntentahomx" - I don't know what that means, but I couldn't agree more !