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.
Saturday, 20 February 2010
Monday, 15 February 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, 3 February 2010
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!
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!
Thursday, 10 December 2009
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, 8 November 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, 25 October 2009
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…
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…
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