Rossendale United 0 - Garforth Town 2

17-4-2010

On a day in which many Mancunians felt the pain of footballing heartbreak, and while others experienced the joy of victory on derby day, only 18 miles away, a smaller band Manc football fans suffered the worst feeling of all; relegation. Garforth Town earned the three contestable points, and when there are winners, there must also be losers. The match condemned Rossendale to the North West Counties League tier… provided there is a stable club willing and able to replace them!

The pace was relaxed. Garforth were comfortable, and the victory was won without leaving second gear. Neither side enjoyed many clear-cut chances, but from what they carved out, it would be the visitors that converted a pair of them to win at a canter over game, but limited opposition.

Surprisingly enough it would be Rossendale with the first glaring opportunity. Rounding the goalkeeper but being forced wide in the process, the Rossendale attacker in possession turned to fire wide and over from a tight angle. Making his first start in goal, 17-year-old Tom Taylor would not be troubled again in the match.

Greaves, fresh (or perhaps not) from a workmanlike 120-minute display on Wednesday, was played in down the left channel early on, before sending the ball inside for Harding. The veteran midfielder tried placing his finish, which struck the top of the crossbar with the keeper soundly beaten.

Greaves would trouble again; lurking as a centre back horrendously missed a through ball, Tom snatched up the chance and burst for goal. Though he evaded all the attempts to cynically clip his ankles, his shot ultimately snuck wide.

Soon after, Town found the net anyway; following a corner and some ricochets, Harding was laid off. Electing to back-heel the ball, the manoeuvre threw the defence, and created an acre of space for Adam Clayton to curl the ball with authority into the top corner of the net.

Garforth were comfortable for the rest of the half, despite some undoubtedly tired legs from the marathon cup final days before. Piper was rested, as were Nathan Kamara and Greaves, later in the second.

The second would produce more of the same fare. Rossendale were game, attempting several passing interchanges and sending up the odd speculative through ball or high pass… but to no avail. Town’s Paul Walker had several chances, being put through on the right channel, but a combination of poor decision-making and good defending thwarted him. Taxi…

It would be Walker who was felled in a cynical challenge, leading to Garforth being awarded a penalty following a period of pressure in the 71st. Liam “Brendan’s Kid” Ormsby converted well, to continue his fine penalty taking form.

Walker tried his luck once more, and Garforth earned a multitude of corner, none of which were converted, but nothing noteworthy in terms of goal scoring opportunities occurred in the final ten. A tense finale it was not.

All the very best next year to Rossendale, who somehow avoid a piss-taking here, and another ‘W’ in the wins column for Garforth, who can look to finish another cup winning season well.

Garforth Town 5 - Barnoldswick 4 AET: West Riding County Cup Final

14-4-2010

Birds are singing…. there’s dancing in the streets… the miner’s are basking in their own reflected glory… and whyyyyyy? Because Garforth Town are once again, for the second year running, the West Riding County Cup Champions of Yorkshire, hmmmbaby!

This report is dedicated to Lancaster, Halifax, FCUM, and all those other Jo Jo clubs that believe in their warped, twisted, feeble minds, that in hating the most headline grabbing futebol club at the level that they can ACTUALLY stop rock n roll. Say it aint so, daddyo… It aint so.

Here est le video of the team raising the cup. Sadly, it wasn’t filled with champagne and drank from later, but then again, I avoided the changing rooms this year.



Five four was the score, the result of brilliance and calamity, competence and incompetence, injuries and fitness, luck both good and bad. Garforth enjoyed some plain sailing with a solid midfield, and the excellent work of Liam Ormsby and man of the match candidate Dominic Blair on the wings. It would, contentiously, be Ormsby who gave Garforth the lead; free scoring forward Tommy Greaves striking the bar Yeboah style with his shot, before Liam reacted first to bundle home. Did it cross the line from the shot? Fight it out, lads. My money’s on Greaves.

Greaves and strike partner Mason would enjoy further opportunities to level, but the duo were thwarted by a combination of thick goalposts and heavy gusts of wind. Man of the match contender Greaves’ most noteworthy contribution to the game was his workrate – he ran his bobby rollocks off all night – but also that beyond his one (two?) additions to the scoreline, he struck both posts and the bar during the match. With thirty goals still a conceivable target, Town have a striker to hold onto.

(No-homo)

Barney then equalised with a miserable, scruffy effort from a questionable corner, and the game resumed level. The industrious Mark Piper got a shot away following an interchange between Greaves and Ormsby, which Carrington did well to save. Garforth reasserted their dominance, and would enjoy the lion’s share of possession for the rest of the half. Their lead too was regained; Greaves shooting low with a driven effort that beat the shot stopper, only to rebound from the post across the line. Tom’s strike partner Lee Mason gladly accepted the gift, forcing the ball in before defending interventions’ could succeed.

Half time occurred, which Barnoldswick must have been grateful for, but their team talk bore no immediate results. As play resumed, Garforth went for the kill, looking to widen the gap between themselves and their plucky visitors. The tactic worked; with barely three figure second half seconds of playtime played, Greaves converted a great header from an Ormsby cross that ostensibly killed the game.

Cup football can be an illegitimate son.

Two ludicrous goals scored against our injured goalkeeper gave an undeserving side a second bite of the apple. One a lob, the other a fumble. No further comment.

Fair play to Barnoldswick, however; seemingly outgunned both on paper and in reality, yet able to claw their way back into a game that by rights should have been far beyond their presumptuous grasp. As it was, justice was apparently served as judgment day arrived; criminal activity in the Barnoldswick box left the official no option but to award a penalty to Garforth. Ormsby converted. Four-three, with only minutes to go.

You thought that was the end didn’t you? You actually thought this report was done, and if you saw the game, you thought that this was the point when champagne fell from the heavens, a chorus of angels began singing, and the Miner’s earned their stripes as County Cup champions two years running. Well ah ah, that wouldn’t be entertaining enough junior; Garforth equals buy rates, Garforth equal dramatic finishes, Garforth equals ups and downs, and Garforth equals, rock ’n’ roll!

Unjustly awarded free kick, Morgan fouled, ball fumbled in via rugby tactics, et cetera so on and so forth moving swiftly onwards ahem… We were denied rightful victory in regular time, but you can’t stop rock n roll, and you can’t stop Garforth Town in a cup tie either… so, to extra time. Squeaky bum time. Our time. Barnoldswick began diving left right and centre, utilising the most disgusting tactics imaginable, spending more time on the grass than Dutchmen, but as the Town fans sang “We Shall Overcome”, and dramatic music blared seemingly from nowhere, Blair picked up the ball subsequent to a cynical, outrageous foul. Time slowed down. Bill Conti’s “Going The Distance” trilled through the night air. Dom cut in. He shot… da da! Carrington dived… da da! Everyone who can remember the final scenes of Rocky vs. Apollo Creed 1 smiled in response to my recap of this event… da da! And then a mysterious Spanish commentator chimed in Barcelona style, as the ball evaded the keeps for a truly memorable 120th minute winner…
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

Champagne fell from the heavens, birds began to sing, judgment day HAD arrived. Garforth were the WRCC Champions of Yorkshire, for the second year in a row daddyo! Joining the pantheon of multiple West Riding County Cup winners means Garforth join the ranks of a prestigious club; including Leeds United AFC. In 2010, the players of Garforth raised the trophy to a chorus of “Campeonés campeonés olé olé olé!” And a famous cup victory transpired thus. Put our name where it belongs Jo Jo! Stick it on the winners’ plaque baby, right now!

Congratulations to the joint-managers Steve and Rich, assorted coaching staff Vernol, Jeff and co, and the team consisting of Morgan, Morgan, Turley, Turner, Kamara, Johnson, Harding, Ormsby, Piper, Greaves, Mason, Blair. Subs: Brook, Taylor, Mhlolo, O'Neill.

Man of the Match Award: Tom Greaves and Dominic Blair, joint 1st. Both were industrious, both worked very hard, and both found the net.

Garforth Town 3 - Halifax Town 4

8-4-2010

Seven hundred supporters saw a scrappy spectacle, but one that entertained, literally, until the very last. Seven goal thrillers are sweeter when you’re on the right side of them, but in this case, Garforth have nothing to be ashamed of, having secured a two-goal advantage only to be undone by dubious officiating and a numerical disadvantage on the field. Either way, despite the scoreline, both sets of fans were enthralled by the contest (though I personally wish I had a £ for every retarded thing I heard shouted from younger members of Halifax’s moronic, monosyllabic and unintelligent fanbase).

(One of aforementioned Halifax fans)


Garforth took the lead with a well taken goal; after a passing interchange out on the right wing, Riordan brought the ball inside and threaded a lovely incise pass for Lee Mason to tuck home in the thirty fifth minute. Halifax were dejected; the goal occurring after a spell of earlier pressure that did not come to fruition. Town held onto their lead, and went in at half time on top of the game, on top of the visitors, on top of the title chasers.

To the bar, comrades; one in which very few Halifax fans decided to wet their throats in, despite the business of alcohol supply responsible for being vital lifeblood of clubs at our hierarchical position in the football leagues. For shame, you teetotal boycotting Pharisees…

The second half ebbed and flowed for fifteen minutes, before livening up once more with some, ahem, spirited challenges, and full-blooded midfielding. Sadly, a terrible goal regained parity for the misfiring visitors; a shot bobbled in the Garforth box, Ellison fumbled, and the resulting messy rebound was converted by Michael Wilde, which sent a few hundred in attendance wilde, wilde, wilde… and we had to come on and Feel the Noize… Slim Shady of the coaching staff behaved himself this time, but the rest of their fans decided to bang the dugouts regardless.

The joy of animals is often short-lived, as other instincts swiftly come into play; namely the desires for feeding and reproducing. In this case, the joy of animals was cut short when Paul Walker burst through from the wing, up the channel, before slotting in Ormsby. Liam did the rest with a placed finish, and this time the Garforth dugout was banged only for ironic purposes…

After spectacularly dreadful football was offered by Halifax in the ensuing ten minutes, from the Garforth perspective a substitution was made in which Dominic Blair replaced the injured Craig Ellison. Blair was to have a very busy five minutes on the field.

However, first things first. I’ll not be sidetracked from the linear progression of this report, so light your crack pipe, stick your feet up and be shocked and horrified at the tale of Ellison’s injury, my faithful readers. It transpired thus; Craig bravely leapt for the ball, only to be hospitalised due to the dastardly, cowardly atrocity inflicted upon him by a Halifax assailant that shall not be named. That man may as well have been standing on the grassy knoll, for he assassinated both Ellison’s evening, and ultimately the game itself from the deserving hometown boys.

May he contract syphilis in the near future.

Now then, to the subject of Dominic. I hereby christen what befell him and us as “The Blair Switch Project”, as through the tyranny of disgusting prison guard failed athlete officials, Blair was switched and exiled, and Town were left up the Cadbury creek. Firstly; Clayton broke away, and sent the ball across to Blair. A cool finish later, and Town were 3-1 up with only nine minutes of play remaining. Gigity gigity, bitches…

Blair was booked following a “hand to ear” gesture delivered to the crowd. This was reportedly in response to racial abuse that Blair had received. Not to mention that the booking was somewhat inauspicious to begin with. Subsequent to this, the metaphorical grassy knoll; Blair-gate. Blair was grabbed, and the natural reaction was to shove back to escape contact. None of that, in any case, was made to the head or face area, yet Blair was shown his walking papers by the Paris-1975-esque law enforcer in the black. And then it happened.

Actually, I’m not giving the events from minutes 87-94 any degree of sensationalism, because they don’t deserve it. Basically, Halifax scored three crappy goals, and won the game. One stemmed from a move in which the ball had gone out of play, another saw a controversy arise as to whether the ball had crossed the line, and yet another was waved offside by the linesman’s Hitler Salute, but the referee overruled this decision.

Garforth were robbed, scammed worse. This will sit in the archives of sporting robbery along with Leeds against Bayern in Paris, with Roy Jones Jr outscoring his foe 83-37 and losing the Olympic final in Korea, with Lyoto Machida conceding four out of five rounds to Mauricio Rua and keeping his UFC light-heavyweight championship belt. It was a travesty.

And the scenes around the dugout proved one indisputable fact; football provides a vehicle for soft people to pretend they are big men, or that they can fight… some truly, truly pathetic people. Worse, it wasn’t the old guard shaven headed forty year olds, but emo looking kids with pretentious haircuts. People who scream obscenities then avoid eye contact. People who ask the rhetorical question “what?” and then retreat back into the mob. Join a boxing gym, you silly wankers.

Football has produced more fucking twats than emo music.

Fletch

Garforth Town 3 - AFC Field... erm, Fylde, 2

16-3-10

Town looked to build on the foundations of a good win at Radcliffe, by destroying the inconsistent team of Viking town Fylde, and fully recompensing the goal difference setback of seven days prior. They nearly managed it too, with a comfortable eighty minutes and a hat-trick of well taken goals, before a nail biting conclusion as the players that the Blackpool team could ‘field’ decided to go down swinging. We all love a bit of drama, don’t we? Three points in the bag, no harm, no foul…

Field managed to exact some early pressure on Town, but it was dealt with imperiously. The first noteworthy chance for the home side came from a passing interchange, as Field were cut apart down the left channel before Greaves angled to shoot, striking his shot against the woodwork. Town were comfortable in the second third of the half, as they pressed and probed while receiving little in the way of counter attacks.

As the half neared its conclusion, Fylde finally broke through in an unadulterated ‘gimme’ chance. One on one, only Ellison in the Miner’s goal to beat… I speculate that the player in question aimed for the practice nets propped up against the stadium wall, some ten yards to the right of the near post that he spectacularly failed to get near. For shame, pal… what a stinker.

Town duly punished that moment of footballing ineptitude, as another interchange through the middle dissected the visitors. Mark Piper slotted home a lovely through ball for Nathan Kamara, and the nephew of an UNBELIEVABLE sky sports commentator drove the ball home across goal. Cha-ching.

The second began with a siege of the Fylde, as Garforth gained the ascendancy. One interchange was cut out at its climax courtesy of a desperate block, and Craig Harding was unable to respond with a goal scoring shot through a wall of players. It wouldn’t matter; Kamara claimed a second with an adroit finish; a ‘Sheringham run’ to the near post channel, meeting the ball with a low, flicked finish to that same post from twelve yards.

A subsequent move saw Lee Mason do well to keep the ball in play, before scampering down the right to fire in a cross. Greaves converted, another step closer to the magic 30, and Town were on cruise control over a hapless, helpless foe.

Alas, last Tuesday’s goal difference deficit was not cancelled out, as Field scored first a good goal, then a crap one, but Garforth hung on to the end to claim the points that up until the eightieth, had been academically theirs. Squeaky bum time aside, the vast majority of this performance was comfortable, and so it is three good games in four, another win, and another step in the right direction…

Field; you went out on your shield, refusing to yield, with dexterity concealed until late on, when your players steeled themselves to reveal passion and zeal… oh for real.

Radcliffe Borough 0 - Garforth Town 2

13-3-10

On a day when Manny Pacquiao further cemented himself as the pound for pound #1 boxer on the planet, Garforth produced a performance that was certainly ‘minute for minute’ superior to a dreary Tuesday at home, and earned some redemption with a capable display in sinking Radcliffe by two goals to nil on their own turf.

Early Radcliffe pressure was undone by the lack of clinical finishing, and while Tom Morgan needed to be attentive, he was rarely troubled. A reorganised Town looked much more impressive, with Mark Piper back to his industrious self in the centre, and Dominic Blair pressing and probing, in what was probably a man of the match display.

The opening goal, when it came, was worth the wait. Fisher floated a ball across the box from the left wing, which was met by ‘The Van Basten finish’; a volley back across goal, nestling the ball in the corner of the net. Lee Mason; take his bow…

The prospect of a repeat of Tuesday was a scarier one than being caught in an extra-marital affair with Aleksander Emelianenko’s wife – by Aleksander – but thankfully Garforth were a far more solid outfit, and after a howling miss from Slim Shady (the Radcliffe no.9) save for free kicks and toothless attacks, the home side never really troubled again.

Riordan shaved the bar with a speculative shot, and both Town and Radcliffe began to get caught out frequently by the constant offside traps. Arsenal style would not prevent Town eventually adding to their numerical advantage, as late in the game, Ormsby played Blair out wide, and he jinked, cut in and sent a ball in, which was put back across for Greaves to add to his goal tally and get one step closer to the magic 30. It was too late for dogs without teeth to bite Town back, and Garforth had sealed the game.

Next up, I predict a 3-2 victory over FC Grassy Field, and you can take that one to the bank Junior! Pacquiao wide UD, and 3-2… predictions; it’s what I do. Call me Karnak.

Garforth Town 0 - Prescott Cable Scousers 5

9-3-10

I would rather:

> Get caught out with Aleksander Emelianenko’s missus… by Aleksander
> Hunt for bears… with a knife
> Go to Russian prison for 5 years
> Fight Mirko CroCop, Josh Barnett and Sergei Kharitonov in my early 20s
> Be in the Russian Mafia
> Spar with Fedor Emelianenko
> Contract Hep
> Do anything else scary that Aleksander Emelianenko does
> Hire Josef Mengele as my personal physician
> Live off McDonald’s for a month
> Walk through Chapeltown at night, naked
> Wear a Man Utd shirt out in Leeds
> Swim in shark infested waters
> Punch Aleksander Emelianenko

…Than have to sit through another game like that shower of shite.

Garforth Town 4 - Ossett Albion 3

20-2-10

Non, je ne regrette rien…

A turbulent first half almost sank the Miner’s, but a spirited second revived them in a seven-goal thriller at the Genix. Ossett Albion looked forlorn and lost in the first twenty minutes, as an early lead for the home team and dominance in possession ostensibly spelled trouble for the visitors. A Shane Kelsey inspired mauling ensued, until Town pulled off a comeback worthy of the Russian rout of Le Grande Armée from Moscow, as the forces of Bonaparte were smashed to smithereens. Three goals, and Robert’s your mother’s brother.

Speaking of Napoleon; Cedric the ref brought a certain je ne sais quoi to non-league officialdom. From the continent, Mesdames et messieurs… A brave man, officiating in a second language, in a country that a recent ruler of his people attempted to conquer, and against a side whose match reports contain frequent mentions of historical wars, for the sake of ‘infotainment’. However, he did well, so metaphorically tip of the cap, mon ami…

Town’s venomous fangs drew first blood, like John J ‘Raven’, as a well-weighted ball through sent Greaves into a one on one situation. From an angle, he clipped it over the advancing goalkeeper in a fine effort, and it was un á zéro, mes sale putes…

The downturn began before the twenty-minute mark, as some foul individual named Bentley didn’t go so gently on the Garforth back line, and it was un, deux before one could say voulez vous coucher avec moi, fromage seins… Liam Ormsby cut in and fed Greaves, who shot wide, and Garforth produced a howling, disgusting, terrible fail worthy of epicfail.com, when Town newb Paul Walker dallied when through on goal, decided to round the defender haring after him before shooting, and lost possession. Soon after that woeful misjudgement, a terrible third was conceded; a failed Ossett counter attack led to a clearance and miscontrol, and the subsequent shot was saved. Kelsey converted the rebound, following a fumble.

Half time came, thankfully, and with it Maria McKee and Show Me Heaven.

It left me breathless.

Early in the second, Dominic Blair sailed a cross in from the left, which Duncan Williams met with a looping header that attained the accuracy of Private Pyle sniper fire. The keeper was helpless. One, two Garforth’s coming for you… three, four I predict 3-4…

A shot from range was saved well, yet the rebounding ball did not offer the lurking attackers the same luck that befell Kelsey in the previous half, and the chance went begging. Town defended much more strongly, and Ossett had less of a sniff than Boy George in rehab. Substitute Lee Mason entered the fray, and almost reclaimed parity for the home side when his shot culminated a jinking run, and was narrowly placed wide.

Williams bagged a second, as Garforth truly pulled back into the game. An adept finish evened the odds, and instigated ‘squeaky bum time’ for the Albion. And it was on… on like Donkey Kong…

I foresee a film. Based in a football stadium, one white guy… one black guy… kinda like the Garforth bench. But this is one where the character redeems himself… and it’s called… the Genix Redemption.

Based around a horrific, terrible miss early in the game, the protagonist accepts the ball in the final stages of a tremendous comeback, and adroitly lifts it past the keeper to win the game for Garforth 4-3…

Wait… this happened. Based on a true story. Paul Walker, 86 minutes, redemption, back of the net…

Town held on to the not so bitter end, and brought home the bacon in what Adam Cooper termed ‘a real six pointer’. It razzled and dazzled, sizzled and fizzled…

Non… je ne regrette rien…

On an unrelated side note, tonight is the last stand of Mirko ‘Cro Cop’ Filipović and Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira. Maybe Wanderlei Silva too… but he’s fighting an Englishman in Michael Bisping… but come on Cro Cop, one more head kick! And come on Nogueira! War!

Wild boys never lose it… LeBon’s voice will echo through the arena tonight. I hope he’s right.

Garforth Town 0 - Salford City 1

13-2-2010

Sporting talent and affable, likeable personalities often do not go hand in hand. The appeal of many high calibre athletes has stemmed from ill will and bad karma, with more viewers seemingly tuning in hoping to see the cocksure braggarts get humbled. It has been a successful business model for many professional fighters; Naseem Hamed, Chris Eubank, Muhammad Ali, Sugar Ray Leonard, Badr Hari, Brock Lesnar… the list goes on. This too was clearly in evidence at the Genix on Saturday, as despite a performance highlighted by many near miss chances on goal, Garforth were sunk by the most unpopular footballer in non-league football history, as the genetically inferior Giggs brother converted a penalty to give Salford City the three points in a smash and grab raid.

Salford is a city of nearly a quarter of a million people, and at least thirty of them made their way across the Pennines to the white rose side of the land, Gods Own Country, to support a team whose <0.1% support percentage of the populace may well be due to the signing of Rhodri Giggs…

The first chance of note came from an Ormsby header, as a curled cross was redirected towards goal. With the keeper beat, the ball hit the inside of the post, agonisingly, until a desperate lunge cleared the danger from the Salford six-yard box, and the visitors breathed a little easier.

Several opportunities arose for Tom Greaves, Town’s top scorer of the season. A passing interchange fed him through, and it was a last ditch tackle that prevented the conversion. Another defensive cock-up from Salford and Greaves was almost through again, but a well-timed challenge sent him wide and gave Town the corner. From the ensuing inswinger, a header was cleared from the line, and Garforth were firmly in the ascendancy, in the drivers seat. To claim Salford competed with Garforth in terms of goal-scoring opportunities is akin to maintaining that Hirohito had a hand in the International Military Tribunal For The Far East.

Sadly, while Garforth defended stoutly, even barbed wire, machine gunners and the Berlin Wall didn’t prevent the bravest of East Germans escaping Simon Clifford’s favourite political ideology. Salford broke through, once, and a justly awarded penalty was awarded following a shove. Rhodri Giggs stepped up, and to be fair to him, it was a perfect penalty. Top corner, side netting. The wall breached, winds of change…

Garforth should have been awarded a penalty, however. Walker was not once, but twice besmirched inside the box – once tripped, the other time used as a ladder. Clear infractions of the rules, my friends, and if Referee Wonder failed to spot them, Eli Dingle the linesman could have at least raised his flag, and Seig Heil saluted for the home team! Two penalties… the law of averages states that at least one would have been converted. That makes a draw.

Robbed blind by incompetence. Garforth never seem to get much luck. It was Euripides that said, “Authority is never without hate.” Also, that “no one who lives in error is free.”
Thus, for not awarding our rightful penalties, thou is curséd, heathen. Repent, and thou shall be saved.

Nathan Kamara came out of a challenge worst, and the number 8 for Salford decided to re-enact Roy Keane/Alfie Haaland. Nice one. Number 8, you are a scrub, which is precisely why I have not even named you. Rant away, clown.

Dominic Blair entered the fray on 71 minutes, and almost scored on 72. An interchange saw him take the ball in his stride and burst through, only to slice the shot narrowly wide with only the shot stopper to beat. Yet another Garforth goal that should have been, could have been, yet wasn’t to be.

Town newb Danny Moore hit the crossbar soon after, and in the following five-minute period, several low crosses were skied from close range. It was one of them thur’ days, boss…

Salford escaped with a win. It was not deserved, and in the first half alone, Garforth should have put the game out of sight, which was freely admitted by one of the Salford officials, who wished to remain nameless. Garforth next play at home on Saturday, and will look to bounce back strongly with another improved performance when using the pre-Christmas debacles as a measuring stick.

Town are improving, and unlike against Salford, that should correspond with the results hopefully to come. We shall see. War.

Garforth Town 1 - Farsley Celtic 0

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!

Colwyn Bay 4 - Garforth Town 2

5-12-09

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly is probably best known for a stupid theme that people whistle when thinking about cowboys and Indians, pistols at dawn and maybe as a spoof for a fighter staredown, but on Saturday Garforth and their bilingual visitors actually displayed all attributes. The good – Town dominating the second half, winning it two-nil, striker Greaves bagging a brace, et cetera. The bad – Town allegedly conceding four goals in a period of madness. I cannot say for sure – I blinked. The ugly – Colwyn’s entire team. No, I keed, I keed.

After forty-five minutes of comme ci, comme ça, Town went to work. One can only speculate what brought about the change – a soundtrack of Republica’s Ready To Go and Chumbawamba Tubthumping, stanozolol injections and a crate of red bull perhaps – maybe a Gunnery Sgt. Hartman team talk (you had best sound off that you love the Virgin Mary). Who knows? Whatever is was, it worked, as they bossed the second. Greaves hit the post with a header following a cross from the right, a flank that Chris Ovington caused consistent problems on for the visitors. His speed was evident in outpacing full backs, and though he might be small, so was Igor Vovchanchyn. Load up the interwebz and check out that savage…

Colwyn almost scored following an attacker’s jinking run, but the shot was cut wide of the post. Ovington almost claimed an assist in the subsequent attack, sending a ball in from the right channel just outside the box, but a lunging challenge scuppered the chance. Soon after, with a yellow shirted player down, the Welshmen obstinately refused to show sportsmanship and put the ball out of play. One day these men will play fair. But until that day, they are pukes. They are the lowest forms of life on earth. They are not even hum…

Garforth drew first blood of the second (not John.J style – ‘in town you’re the law… out here it’s me’) when a ball up to Greaves caught in the churned ground. Taking full advantage of the conditions, Greaves slid in before the advancing keeper to send the ball past him into the empty net. 1-0 in the second half, daddyo.

In less time than it takes Naseem Hamed to get to the ring during his entrances, Greaves had doubled his tally. Ovington played him in when he sent the ball across to the right channel, Greaves evaded the challenge, cut in and cut back his finish to the near post. As the fans sang, easy, easy.

Garforth clearly didn’t lose this game; they just ran out of time to win it in. It was a happier set of fans come the end, as to be honest, there is something in human nature that makes us failure parasites (hence the second half attendance of even the most disappointed of us). Yet they ended well. In dominating the second half, Town showed what they could and should have done in the entirety of the game, and earned a moral victory. Sport often draws connotations with war, and the metaphors used in this country’s ridiculously shabby, uninteresting, unentertaining sports journalism are common, clichéd and endless. They have a point though – Colwyn facing Town in the second half resembled the formerly raging Trojans fleeing as Achilles and the Myrmidons re-entered the fray, sending them scattering to the four winds. And as the Trojans could tell you, in war it is not who is rampant early, it is those who finish strongly and decisively. Do the right thing, UniBond league; one-point-five points will come in handy before the storms of winter…

Trust and Believe.

Garforth Town 2 - Rossendale United 1

21-11-09

The best thing about being down is that, barring disaster, you make it back up. The best thing about a dire performance is that it often results in immediate improvement, a positive backlash. The best thing about a losing streak is that it usually snaps. And against Rossendale, the good followed the bad, immediate improvement followed a dire performance, and the two losses in Ashton Under Lyne against the table toppers were wiped away by a win against a Rossendale United outfit bolstered by mid-season reinforcements, with several new signings appearing for the capable side who maintained parity with the aforementioned Curzon Ashton for ninety minutes only ten days ago.

Rossendale opened the scoring with one sixth of the game gone; Shaun Williams putting his name into the internet annals of unibondleague.com history for a bit more wasted bandwidth, when he scored with a heavily deflected shot. While neither side claimed any real superiority in the first, let it be known that Garforth gave the ball away eighty-eight times. Bear that in mind.

Though the second half performance eclipsed that of the one that preceded it, Garforth did at least ‘draw the first’, when the in-form Tom Greaves added to his seasonal tally with a header from close range.

As good quality often follows the dire, now came a half in which Town conceded the ball forty-one times. In the eventuality of defending a lead, which subsequently happened, this includes long balls, clearances and the usual associated gameplay of a one-goal-lead game in the dying minutes, a feature the first half did not boast. In reality, the second half figure would presumably be in the region of thirty. Markedly improved from the first half statistics of eighty-eight, perhaps resulting from tactics or team talks.

The wind and relentless rain picked up, though the typically well maintained pitch held up as ever; unlike most others at this level that would have deteriorated into a 100 by 60 no-mans-land of sludge, better suited to making trenches either side of to shoot ze Germans from.

The grass may have held, but aerial balls and even throws were claimed by the wind, serving as an unpleasant preview to the action expected through the winter months in the cold. To be a football fan…

Speaking of the Germans, with only nein minutes (budum-ch) of the second half gone, Nathan Kamara headed home from an out-swinging corner to give Garforth the lead. His brother Chris returned to the starting line-up after a two-year spell at Goole in East Yorkshire, following a failed trial at the Dog and Duck in Wigan.

Garforth held out well, and could and probably should have increased their winning margin. Man of the Match Chris Ovington curled in a peach from the right wing for Greaves, but the striker weighted his volleyed shot too heavily, and sent the ball over.

Greaves claimed the ball in an advanced position up the left channel soon after, and laid off midfielder Duncan Williams. The dependable youngster squeezed through a ball for Ovington, but unfortunately the goalkeeper proved sufficiently alert to race out and clear before the winger arrived.

And so Town win, moving onwards to a packed Christmas schedule that hopefully can see the side replicate their promotion winning winter runs that saw rapid ascension up the league ladders in 04/05, and 06/07. Such a succession of routs would be welcome in the winter months.

Garforth Town 1 - Skelmersdale United 3

7/11


Are they Scouse? Or are they Manc? So sang the home fans… Actually they didn’t, as an early goal sank Town from the beginning, both players and fans, a deathblow from which the yellow and blues never recovered. Skelmersdale have been unlucky in recent years with promotion proving elusive, but put on their 07/08 form yesterday that saw them atop the table for the majority of that season. Three goals to one clinched this match for them.

Garforth were watertight for 59 seconds, before the sucker punch that took the jam right out of their donut. Another Skelmersdale attempt on goal came from a lob that Morgan saved, a third from a poorly struck shot.

Town had their share of the scant first half chances; Ovington chipped a ball for Fidel Mholo, who cut inside. Sadly, his shot curved the wrong way. Minutes later, a soft free kick was conceded by Town on the right channel, twenty yards from goal. The low curl was saved, the rebound converted by the advanced Mark Houghton. Can a rebound be offside in the new laws? I can’t quite remember.

Nathan Kamara threaded a ball through that wasn’t latched onto, and later Town had an excellent passing interchange between several players from defence to midfield before a through ball was slightly overhit to Greaves. The play drew applause. While the goalkeeper claimed the ball, this was a rare showing of the potential in the side, and a shame it was that it would not be repeated more often in this game.

Town improved in the second. Though Skelmersdale remained a solid outfit, Garforth harried and pressed more, Claisse and Williams toiled in midfield and Thornton and Greaves caused more problems. Darren sent a ball up the left wing to Tom, who cut in and squeezed a ball through for Ovington. Unfortunately, as Chris’ run went one way, the ball was sent the over. Still, the counter attack showed intent.

Even more unfortunately though, the goal that United scored thereafter showed even more intent. A well weighted, curled ball to the left channel caught an offside trap cold, and the chance was finished well, slid under Morgan for the formidable three-goal deficit.

Dignity was clawed back in the form of a consolation goal that rewarded the improvement of industry; a corner was cleared, and Claisse enabled a one on one opportunity for Tom Greaves, who finished low with a cutback to the left post to give Town slim hopes, with over twenty minutes left to play.

The other Tom almost found himself on the score sheet, as Mr Claisse tested the agility of the Skem shot-stopper with a lifted top corner effort from twenty yards. The midfielder saw his shot saved well, but won applause and a corner.

Garforth were unable to further make a dent in the solid defence of Skelmersdale United, who cross the Pennines with another valuable three points. Town have played better, but a lot worse, and there are positives juxtaposed in with the negatives as is ever the case in the strange world of football.

Garforth Town 2 - Lancaster City 3

24-10

Enjoying the hospitality of Garforth Town today were Lancaster City; big cheese and county town of the historical enemy of Gods own county, Lanca-shy-oh. And the Red Rose inhabitants who graced our ground today certainly hadn’t forgotten that irrelevant footnote in the sands of time, and they were ‘top, main lads’ to boot. Frightening, menacing individuals, champions of battle and gods of combat, clearly. However, this is 2009, and now I have the luxury of insulting them from behind the safety of a computer screen. Heard the term ‘keyboard warrior’ before – you disgusting scrotes?

Haha, just joking, I really enjoyed the unfounded accusations of paedophilia, animal molestation and of excessive masturbation levelled at members of the Garforth staff by grown men shouting in a group and pumping their fists joyfully into the air while intimidating middle-aged to elderly fans. Cashback!



Several shots were struck early, and proved that any strike sliding across the wet grass would be difficult for either goalkeeper to deal with. This would come to haunt Town later in the game.

Darren Thornton came close with a free kick, a corner winning effort. That corner sailed over to the far side of the box, and Fidel Mholo did the rest with a side-footed volley back across goal. The attempted block of a defender only sent the ball up into the roof of the net, and the White Rose drew first blood from the red.

Lancaster sang on undeterred, with so much failure I cannot find the words to describe it. One was a song about how ‘lanky’ a famous female singer was (think about it) and another was to proclaim love for ‘the Blues’, who go ‘marching in’ somewhere or other. Maybe ‘the blues’ are T.A. I looked at the pitch in confusion, before looking down on the bald spots and dandruff only feet away from me as I remarked to those legends of the terrace; “You’re in white, lads.”

Lancaster regained parity with what Assistant Manager Billy deemed ‘a soft goal’, as a converted header helped City claw their way back into the game. In the dying stages of the half however, Thornton claimed the ball in the far left corner, brought it inside to unleash a well-struck strike to the top right that clinched the first half at least for Garforth.

The Red Rose visitors proved to be in the ascendancy though, and claimed two goals in quick succession that Assistant Manager Billy deemed to be ‘soft’. He was right. However, soft though they may have bee… definitely were, Town now faced an uphill battle to regain both parity and the lead that had been surrendered twice.

Thornton almost added to his goal tally when he sidestepped the goalkeeper and shot, but his cutback effort was blocked on the line, as was his impeded lay off for Greaves.

Garforth tried but could not further penetrate the resistance of beloved Lancaster, and the Bl… whites, scurried home with the points in the bag. I can’t wait to see the City fans at their place though…. so I can run away screaming.

However, you’re a city of 140k people, playing in the UniBond league, that’s fucking pathetic.
*Runs away*

Fear not Garforth; at least we are Yorkshire, Gods own County, beloved of Zeus, and as such God smiles down upon us unlike on those Red Rose heathens, pagans and reprobates.

Yeah, PEACE…

Garforth Town 0 - Leeds United AFC 1

21-10

Achilles had Hector. Clarice Starling had Buffalo Bill. Ali had Frazier. Man-ches-toh Uni’ed have Man-ches-toh Ci’y – even though only one team hails from the city itself. Leeds United AFC have never had a local team to play that could define local sport, and where the supporters are all from the same place, whether to meet and greet with smiles and handshakes or to clash with the violence of sporting fanaticism.

Under Simon Clifford, Garforth have strived to raise their own status with ambition befitting of larger and more lucrative clubs. Two promotions and a slew of publicity, not to mention ambitious statements, lofty goals and a charismatic owner/manager, and the non-leaguers forced their way onto the footballing map. In time, one can hope for a Garforth versus Leeds fixture in a league setting – at least if one is a Garforth supporter…

As it was, the two sides met tonight in the White Rose version of Ci’y versus Uni’ed. Given that both clubs rested first team players, that the game was a friendly and the unfortunate and most important fact in that Garforth ply their trade five leagues below the prestigious Peacocks, it could hardly be described in the aforementioned Hector and Achilles metaphorical terminology, yet with a close game graced by only a single goal, nor did the affair resemble the aforementioned Starling and Bill scenario – the hunter able to pick apart and destroy their rival at will…

Leeds fielded a young squad, and the match served as experience for the blooded youngsters, one of whom was Aidan White; graduate of Clifford’s Leeds Brazilian Soccer School. Garforth had themselves played less than 24 hours earlier, and their own line-up was a fresh look outfit. It was further altered at half time when their captain Brett Renshaw was withdrawn with a foot injury sustained in the defeat in Ossett the previous night.

The Mighty Whites were the stronger team initially, looking sharp and avoiding getting drawn into a long ball game. It would be Garforth who would create the first goal-scoring opportunities. Tom Greaves tried his luck with a run down the middle but was impeded. Garforth struck the first shot in anger, which sailed over. United replied with a curled ball across the midfield to Nathan Turner, who redirected the ball well with his head to run for goal. Town sweeper Milton Turner did well in covering the ground, stealing the ball and clearing it to safety.

Fidel Mholo broke a record, impressive given his short career. He is now officially recognised at having his name mispronounced more times than any other player in the history of football. That includes Greek football, Popodopadoolios and all. He also gave an eye-catching display in the first half, pace evident as he burst down the field on 33. Unfortunately, his ball through to Greaves caught up in the striker’s feet.

Leeds came closest in the half when Turner was put through with only Ellison to beat. However, his shot was at a stretch, and the cutback overlong; the ball flew wide.

Greaves had one final effort as the half came to a close, a half that had the welcome introduction of two linesmen who were not afflicted by the usual relentless, constant ‘Heil Hitler’ syndrome that too many officials seem to have at the sniff of potential offside. One liner this year shot his outstretched arm out more times than Heinrich Himmler did in 1938 – tonight was blissfully free of that in this friendly game.

The second was not graced with many clear-cut chances, but it did see the match winning goal, a top corner shot that vindicated the entrance fee alone. Joe McCann had a shot well saved from point blank range by Ellison, and Leeds were in the ascendancy, with Garforth clinging to parity. The killer blow was struck with only ten minutes to play, as Josh Falkingham fired a net buster from twenty yards that sailed into the top right corner to give Leeds the lead.

United saw the game out, and so ended a fixture refreshingly played with no real malice, bickering, niggly challenges or the stereotypical footballers handbags non-fighting ‘brawls’ that mar so many games with their effeminate aura. It was a friendly game, and it did what it said on the tin.

Leeds next play at Millwall’s Den, and I offer prayers for the travelling fans that they don’t meet a ‘naughty, double nasty, tasty, dirty bunch’, and that they avoid getting bushwhacked in Bermondsey. Any Leeds fan, however, who managed to lay into Danny Dyer and his bunch of ‘naughty, rude mates’ in order to get onto ‘The Weal Footbawl Factowhees’ gets my utmost respect. Garforth face a ‘pound for pound’ equally daunting visit from Lancaster City (sarcasm y’all) who speak like Mancs and hate Garforth with a passion befitting of the Red Rose.

Keep Tubthumping. Peace.

Garforth Town 0 - AFC Field.... Fylde 3

17-10-09

Blackpool is a part of the Lancastrian coastal plain of Fylde, and fittingly it would be our visitors AFC Fylde that illuminated today’s game of football with all three of its goals. In Scandinavian, Fylde means ‘field’, the name hence originating from Viking invasions, and in today’s tussle at the Genix Healthcare stadium, their football team were sadly able to ‘field’ players who outplayed our own in an open game, but one in which few clear cut chances were fashioned. Cup football can be an illegitimate son…

Fylde opened the scoring early, a neat turn and shot from Mark Wane, and Town were fighting an uphill battle thenceforth against more disciplined troops. One noted tactic was the use of legal strength – vigorousness within the boundaries of the rules. Maybe the endless scrapping between Yorkshire and Lancashire day-trippers in Blackpool has toughened them up. Regardless, Fylde changed their colours from blue to all-white in the summer of 2007 in order to mimic Leeds United, and so it would be that Wane’s goal earned them victory against the second most prestigious football club in the Leeds area.

Tom Greaves gave an industrious display, fashioning several chances for himself despite close defensive attention. The most noteworthy occurred with a third of the game gone, when a lifted through ball on thirty minutes allowed him to lob the goalkeeper. Sadly, the striker was deemed to be offside when the ball was played, by another linesman who loves to play ‘you put your right arm in, your right arm out, in out, in out, sh….” No comment.

Greaves was put through again, for another Heil Hitler salute… sorry, enthusiastic linesman’s flagging motion, to halt his progress. A subsequent move saw Harding play Ovington down the left channel, and the young winger cut inside before spraying it out to Williams on the right. Duncan’s cross eluded all.

The second began slowly, and it was not until almost the hour mark that a shot was struck in anger. Greaves worked his way from the left to the edge of the semi-circle, and cut his shot narrowly wide.

Several passing interchanges from both sides summed the game up; one-twos, overlaps and movement, with one player’s weak or mis-hit touch breaking down the whole move. Thornton came on; signalling Town’s attacking intent, and the substitute made determined runs and harassed defenders.

A Claisse ball to Greaves saw the striker exchange a one-two with Thornton before shooting, but the shot slid wide. Immediately after, a quick counter attack saw Fylde get behind the Town defence, and Wane added his second with a finish to the left of Ellison.

Greaves shot across goal following a long ball up from Claisse, and a nice attack involving several players saw Thornton cross for Fidel Mholo at the back post. Not only was the youngster unable to score, his name was mispronounced in the announcements for the 269th time on record.

Town could not pierce the back Fylde of Field, and Field added a third. The familiar looking Richie Allen, who either has a doppelganger or has played against Garforth before for someone else, scored a carbon copy finish to the one that had preceded it, and Town left the Fylde dejected after their hardworking display could not make a dent in a motivated Field, who advance to the 1st round of the FA Trophy.

Garforth though, shall not sling insults the way the Salford Star did just because a War of the Roses rival beat them at home. No slurs from the dignified white rose, unlike some. Then again, any club that employs Rhodri Giggs….

Congratulations to Field. See you in Blackpool for a curry, eight pints and a couple of disco biscuits….

Garforth Town 3 - Harrogate Railway 2

13-10-09

Class warfare ensued on the football pitch, as the upstanding folk of Harrogate came to Garforth’s mining village for the first round of the UniBond President’s Cup. That is the name given to this competition, and the second half of this particular match was spectacle enough for a king, as Garforth almost snatched defeat from the jaws of victory only to inch ahead in the dying moments of the game. 3-2 is cited along with 4-3 as one of the best score-lines a game of association football can have, and it was easy to see why, as both sets of fans witnessed uneasy, demoralising and relieving moments alike as the outcome seemingly teetered back and forth between two sides who both showed some dextrous football at times…

Darren Thornton burst forwards early doors and tried his luck with a chip, which was tipped over by Harrogate shot stopper Jordan Yorath. The resulting corner fell kindly for Liam Ormsby to convert, after only a hundred or so seconds of play.

The posh visitors replied strongly, with a slid shot sliding wide, and a good ball played into the box only for the chance to be squandered. The always dependable (barring the odd moment of gratuitous violence) Brett Renshaw, who defended well, played a lovely ball up for Fidel Mholo, the man whose name has been misspelt and mispronounced more times than any other player in the history of English football. Fidel claimed the ball well but was flagged offside, by the increasingly flag-happy linesman.

Thornton suffered from the man’s rampant right arm, as it once more decreed that the striker’s run was from an offside position. After Darren converted the chance, he was cautioned for ‘kicking the ball away’. As much as I would love to point fingers and criticise ineptitude, stupidity and lunacy, I will not comment on the referee’s decision in this instance.

Substitute Tom Greaves almost forced his way through into a one on one, but was impeded at the last, after fine interchanges in the midfield. A corner soon followed though, was taken short, and the subsequent cross from Thornton was converted in the easiest fashion from the far post, Duncan Williams grateful for the gift. Pin point cross, point blank range, header, goal, done and dusted. 2-0 on the hour.

Garforth could not quite kill the game off though, and so it was on 78 that the in form Craig Ellison injured himself. The keeper did well to make several saves, but the inevitable happened with all Garforth substitutes used up. A high ball that Ellison could not contest, and a horrible ricochet later, and the Miner’s were level in a game they had all but won after nearly eighty minutes of comfort.

Two things happened. A promising Harrogate attack was deemed offside, by the vastly improved linesman, and the ensuing break from Garforth saw Thornton released into space down the middle. Heading from right to left, he in turn released fellow substitute Christopher Jones, and the youngster’s left footed finish was true. Garforth snatched victory from the snapping jaws of possible defeat that had ripped surefire victory away from the Colegate smiling mouth of a comfortable win in the first place… ahem, or in other terms, unfortunate injuries looked to have doomed the match, but as it were they only served to provide a tensely entertaining conclusion to it. The Miner’s march on, after knocking the Railwaymen off the tracks…

Town progress, and face more cup fixtures on the hunt for glory in the coming winter months as the cold spectre of darkness looms over us all.

"Exit light… enter night. Take my hand… we’re off to never Neverland…"

Trafford FC 0 - Garforth Town 2

10-10-09

The Red Rose inhabitants of Trafford number nearly a quarter of a million, and almost 1/1500th of them turned out today to support their newest club, Trafford FC. With Old Trafford, the home of Man-ches-toh Uni’ed nearby it is understandable, not to mention the fact they play in white, yet the non-leaguers from Shawe View have amassed twenty-two honours in their short history. However, while four of their number sang to the tune of ‘We Are Sailing’, it would be the visiting Yorkshiremen who would cruise to a comfortable victory on the hostile side of the Pennines, completing a double barrelled victory for Leeds area sport as the Rhino’s became Super League champions only hours later in Trafford over St Helen’s of Lancashire. War of the Roses 2.0 revisited went to Yorkshire on this day…

Passing interchanges were exchanged between Harding, Ovington and Williams early doors as the Miner’s looked to find an opening. Ovington weaved from the left wing and positioned to shoot, missing narrowly. A long ball up the left channel almost sent Williams clear, and several shots were missed. Meanwhile, Turner, Renshaw, Zalo and Fox were unperturbed at the back, as Trafford offered little in the way of fashioning chances.

Ovington found the net on 37, when he cut in from the left wing as he had done before. He then proceeded to do what he had not done before, however, when he managed to hit both criteria for scoring goals; hit the target, and beat the keeper. His shot from distance dipped wickedly, exposed the stranded shot stopper, and opened the scoring.

Twenty minutes of gameplay later and Ovington almost created the second, sending Williams racing through on goal to meet a well-timed lunge from the goalkeeper. Minutes later he could have added the second himself after Greaves was put through on goal. The striker slid the ball past the goalkeeper into the path of Ovington, only for the most desperate of late lunges from a vigilant defender.

Claisse, Williams, Harding and Ovington stroked the ball around and exchanged passes, before Williams curled a ball into the box for Liam Ormsby. Unfortunately, the midfielder’s touch was too strong, and the flick went over. Then on 75, Mark Piper stole the ball with a deft Cruyff turn and released substitute Darren Thornton. The striker sent a shot wide.

The decisive killer blow was struck in the dying minutes of normal time, as a free kick was curled up to Greaves on the right wing. Sub-standard marking saw the ball sail past his man, the striker controlled, headed for goal, and shot low to the near post to double the advantage and claim the game. Trafford were sunk like the Titanic, as it was rather Garforth who were sailing.

The Miner’s improve to only one loss in five, as the player’s turn in their most comfortable display in recent memory as they win at a canter. Now mid-table, Town can push on, capitalise on the improved cohesion and make a statement. Two cup matches are next, one of which is the FA Trophy, and with only a handful of wins from Wembley, one could be forgiven for daring to dream, subconsciously smelling the stench of cockney-ville already and the foul aromas of the southern wastelands where potential cup glory awaits…

Salford City 0 - Garforth Town 0

3-10-09

Chumbawamba kicked off the day, with walk out theme I Get Knocked Down But I Get Up Again being a fitting epithet to a team with such dramatic upswings and downturns in performance levels and fortune as Garforth Town FC. The game started, with the Greater Mancunian outfit attempting to knock their visitors down for the count, the yellows looking to ‘remind their fans of the good times’, and play a game ‘to remind them of the better times’. Whose fans would be “singing, when we’re winning”? Whose set of supporters would be “drinking a whisky drink; a vodka drink, a lager drink, and a cider drink” to drown their sorrows come the end? Ninety minutes of football later in the shadow of the ‘Theatre of Dreams’, we would know the answer.

The opening exchanges did nothing to offer an indication of the answer, as the closest chance for the visitors came from strikers Thornton and Greaves chasing down Andy Robertson in the Salford goal, while the hosts offered less. A welcome addition to the game was Rhodri Giggs, now plying his trade, footballing trade, along with his more celebrated brother Ryan in Salford, though in somewhat less grandiose surroundings. In fairness to him, other than chelping at his own team-mates and sloping around in the second half, he did nothing particularly out of the ordinary to ‘bring the game into disrepute’, I believe is the politically correct, diplomatic description. Ovington and Williams swung in crosses for Town, but they were dealt with well.

John McAliskey had two very good chances for Salford, which new goalkeeper Craig <> did well to stop. The new shot stopper did his best all afternoon to ensure Tom Morgan gets a pink slip in the mail, as he was undoubtedly man of the match for his display. Garforth came close after twenty-five minutes, when Ovington put Tom Greaves through on the right channel. With the offside trap beaten and Robertson in no-mans-land, Greaves latched onto the lofted ball and his lobbed finish struck the outside of the posts elbow joint that conjoins the net and goal, just wide of the top corner.

Salford had mixed luck, with Giggs’ well taken free kick saved, but a handball in their own box escaping the notice of all officials, a bittersweet minute. Thornton and particularly Ovington came close with chances to close out the half, a low drive and a left footed shot cut across the goal and wide, respectively.

Thornton again tried his luck with a run from his own half, evading challenges and ending with a lacklustre shot. Ovington showed a turn of pace and played a ball in for Tom Claisse, who shot over. Salford shot, with Craig tipping the ball over well. The home side would have three or four shots on goal in this time.

For the rest of the game, Garforth pressed and created chances only for Salford to respond with several of their own. City arguably carved out the more memorable chances, only for the likes of Giggs, Rouse and McAliskey to miss. Though in the second half they undoubtedly came closest with the scant goal scoring opportunities, from the official report in the Salford Star, you would think Garforth had been spanked like a Mirko Cro Cop opponent in a Japanese freak show mismatch. As for the lamentations of The Salford Star, I respond with this; Sors salutis, et virtutis, michi nunc contraria… mecum omnes plangite! Carl Orff, O Fortuna. Relying on the overuse of ‘F bombs’ and county insults like the Salford Star did is so uncultured, even for the red rose...

So the points were shared equally, between our lovable hosts and us ‘yellow shirted Yorkshire ****ing ****ers’. As fate would have it, lager was the beverage of choice, though the miserable Mancunians undoubtedly resorted to the whisky drinks, the vodka drinks, the lager drinks and the cider drinks in lamentation, to vent about the match and to remind them of the better times. Chumbawamba, Tubthumping. A song Salford City use pre-match, and would do well to remember in the aftermath of such a game after the events conclusion.

"Don't cry for me, next door (county) neighbours..."

Garforth next play against Chorley at home on Tuesday night, then Trafford away on Saturday. Kick-offs will be at 7:45pm and 3pm respectively. If we get knocked down, we will get up again, yeah they're never gonna keep us down....

'Danny Boy': yellow shirted ****ing tubthumper, whisky/vodka/lager/cider drinker, and proud Yorkshireman.

Woodley Sports 0 - Garforth Town 1

26-9-09

The White Rose triumphed in an ugly smash and grab battle in Lancashire, as Woodley Sports fell by one goal to zilcho at their own Neil Rourke stadium. The home side’s nickname is the Steelmen, but they were melted down on Saturday in a close game settled by a well-taken Duncan Williams goal.

An initial feeling out process saw many long balls, with the only sniff of a chance coming from a chased down header back to goalkeeper Morgan from the halfway line. The only noteworthy chance in the opening twenty minutes came from an excellent Woodley cross could have been converted from eight yards. The inept striker missed the ball. Save for that, Garforth’s makeshift defence performed well, marshalled by Milton Turner.

A low cross was drilled in by Town standout Chris Ovington to Carl Fox, but the defender did just enough to prevent him getting a clean strike. Greaves came close with a shot following a good set up from Ovington, and Woodley hit the post, missing the subsequent rebound.

Ovington carved the last two chances of the first half, with a side-foot effort that missed, then an eye-catching burst of pace to fire in a cross that was not met.

Duncan Williams tried a Paul Gascoigne circa 1996 when he tried setting up a shot after kick ups over a defender, but he overshot it. Woodley had a header saved by Morgan, who turned in a dependable performance. Both Greaves and Ovington tried shots from outside the area, and both were saved comfortably.

The magic moment occurred on the hour mark. A ball up the right wing to Darren Thornton saw the striker cross low to Williams, who turned away from goal to off put the defender. As it was, though the new angle was ostensibly more difficult, and that the ball had bobbled, Williams managed to lob the goalkeeper to his far post and open (and close) the scoring.

Tom Klaisse almost burst through the middle later in the game, only for the keeper to come out and claim. The match was not one of breathless exhilaration, of constant goal scoring opportunities and melodrama, but it was a valuable win. Barring a minor incident in which two Woodley players appeared to raise their hands and make contact with Garforth players (with no action taken) not much more happened, and Garforth closed out the game to return back to God’s Own Country east of the Pennines with the points.

An ugly win can be as good as a pretty loss, for morale. And in a long season, morale is important, particularly for a side that won two recent promotions with dramatic late surges up the table. This win could prove more vital than its smash and grab, unexciting features and characteristics implied or were felt at the time, and with plenty of points to play for, Town are only four wins away from the prize positions. It’s a crack, they’re back yeah and standing on the rooftops shouting, baby I’m ready to go…

Garforth Town 0 - Halifax Town 1

21-9-09

Harold Brown asks the viewers ‘Who Gives You Extra?’ in the infamous Halifax bank advertisements on television, and ironically enough, tonight at the Genix Healthcare stadium in Garforth the other Halifax, Town FC, also had that little bit extra… in luck.

Garforth did not play badly – quite the opposite. There were several close chances, and the home side largely imposed their will on the visitors, despite the full time deficit. The Miner’s’ first early chance came from tenacious work in midfield from Craig Harding, who chased down a 50/50 ball and slid in to release Chris Ovington on the right. A dangerous dipping cross set up the lunging Greaves but at a stretch, and his contact sent the ball over the bar.

Greaves received a throw in soon after, with a quick turn and shot. The shot slid wide, but if a striker doesn’t shoot, he doesn’t score. Ovington was next, with a jinking run on the right which culminated with the new-boy cutting in to shoot across goal. The goalkeeper managed to parry it wide in a fingertips effort.

The only shot in anger during this first thirty minutes from a quiet Halifax came courtesy of an admittedly excellently taken free-kick from twenty-five yards. Morgan did well to save for the canary yellows.

Ovington tried to steer the ball into the path of Greaves, though the Halifax shot stopper was equal to it and came to intercept. Morgan cleared a backpass only for it to be headed back upfield, and Halifax came close to breaking the deadlock with the subsequent half volley. They almost had another bite at the metaphorical apple via a through ball up the wing, but Milton Turner darted over to win a 30/70 ball and clear the danger. Halifax did hit the crossbar, but only after the ref halted play for a foul. Thus ended the first half.

Garforth’s relative comfort and the ease with which they had dealt with an impotent Halifax attack thus far would be for nought, as the Plastic Wolverhampton Wanderers found the net ten minutes into the second period of play. The ball was played into Paul Whitehouse, who found space and shot from outside the box. He found the corner of the net, to the delight of an away bench now devoid of the blond muppet from last year.

Town responded with a handful of crosses, with the subsequent headers coming varyingly close to regaining parity in the scoreline. Greaves tried his luck with a shot that went wide, and slowly the confidence came back for the home players. The keeper for Halifax left his area to prevent a corner, and his poor clearance almost saw him lobbed from thirty yards and he hurtled back into position.

A ball to Thornton on the right found the striker in an expanse of space, as the attempted interception of an orange defender was mistimed. The chance was promising, but the cross was poor.

The same striker tried his luck with an overhead from an Ovington cross, but all in all it was to be ‘one of those nights’. A strong penalty claim for Garforth was ignored during the second half, and it is noteworthy that Halifax players dropped like flies crossing the motorway. On the plus side, Garforth’s last three performances have seen improvement, and with that ‘extra’ bit of luck, hopefully the Miner’s can start picking up some big wins. The next few games against Woodley, Prescott and Salford are winnable, and with three more good performances, Town can rock down to… Electric Avenue, and then we’ll take it higher.