2/2/2010
In boxing, there is the mercurial Sugar Ray Robinson, and then the rest. Such greats of pugilistic prowess as Ali, Lennox and JC Chavez are thus confined to the role of vying for the 2nd spot, for the right to call themselves the best but one. Similarly in mixed martial arts, Fedor ‘the Last Emperor’ Emelianenko sits atop the craggy peaks of Mt. Invincibility like some fat, bald Russian reincarnation of Hercules, a 5’11 expressionless cyborg walking tall in the land of giants, having established himself as the greatest professional fighter to ever live. Others of renown are in turn relegated to staking their claim for the moniker of ‘second greatest’, men of steel, the Cro Cop’s of the world, no less impressive for their inability to dethrone a man who could armbar God Himself. Like this, in the Leeds area, United AFC will always be the king, the white peacocks of Elland Road. At Garforth Town on Tuesday 2nd February, two of the other football clubs of the LS area battled for a cup semi-final berth, on a cold, wintry night in West Yorkshire, to see who could be, on that night, the number two.
The first half saw a surprisingly even battle. Farsley are of course recent veterans of the Blue Square Conference, and a fully professional outfit. Indeed, without their points deduction, they would currently be sitting pretty near the top of the Conference North, in the midst of another promotion push. Garforth, meanwhile, were promoted twice in the Noughties to earn a UniBond League status, two levels below their visitors, a semi-pro club.
Farsley almost opened the scoring with a well-worked free kick, a shot soon after that sailed over, and an outrageous dive in the quest for the wrongful award of a penalty. In the subsequent attack, they showed some good one touch football, and could have converted from a dangerous cross that was sent through the six-yard box.
Town soaked up the pressure like a huge polyurethane sponge, and responded with several counter attacks. While neither goalkeeper had to withstand Operation Gomorrah, nor stand tall under ze Blitzkrieg, both sides had their chances, Garforth most memorably with a counter that sent Mark Piper heading through on goal, though the defence recovered well. Later, Duncan Williams was put through by Greaves, but his shot was fired straight at the shot stopper. Another Williams effort saw the youngster released into space, before darting up the right channel and firing a shot low across goal, which was saved. Shortly before the break, Town newb Danny Moore found himself in an expanse of space, and fired a low shot from thirty-five yards; a fine effort, well saved.
Half time was called, with the accompanying announcements over the PA system. Recently returned is the maestro, magnificent masterful master of ceremonies, Adam Cooper, back by popular demand. Tip of the metaphorical cap to you, stud…
The second half saw Garforth take charge, comfortably handling their opponents, as would Mariusz Pudzianowski with three average men, or one small bear. The game ebbed and flowed, until the despicably horrific challenge perpetrated in the penalty box; animalistic, brutal, disgusting. Town were awarded the spot kick, and Greaves converted it.
Unless Farsley scored, Garforth Town were the second greatest team in the Leeds area.
The Miner’s held on to the end, though the expected last ditch efforts from Farsley hardly amounted to the Mongol siege of Yinchuan, though of course they don’t have Genghis Khan for a manager. Nor a shaman, and ninety thousand warriors… Either way, Town progress, en route to defending the trophy they so thrillingly claimed a year ago in southeast Leeds.
Two wins from glory!
WAR GARFORTH
It’s a craic, they’re back, yeah and standin’ on the rooftops shoutin’
Baby I’m Ready to Go-oh!
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