Bury 1-1 Wythenshawe, Saturday 30th March 2024

Bury 1-1 Wythenshawe, North West Counties League Premier, Gigg Lane, att. 4,212

Easter is often cited as the time when promotion and relegation issues become a lot clearer, but in the North West Counties League Premier Division, it really is the case. 3 sides, Wythenshawe Town, Wythenshawe and Bury, are chasing the one automatic place going into the Easter weekend and the former two are playing each other on the Monday. Today, 3rd plays host to 2nd (Bury v Wythenshawe) while Town put their feet up and rest. The pre-match table looks like this:

Pld Pts GD
1. Wythenshawe Town 42 86 +45
2. Wythenshawe 40 84 +58
3. Bury 40 81 +54

Darlo Kev turns down the opportunity to come. He’s depressed after the Quakers result yesterday and is off to the seaside (hopefully not to top himself). I’m similarly down after my own side, Barnsley, lost at home yesterday to a side who’d lost 6 in 7 (one draw), killing any aspirations of the top 2. Let this proto-promotion decider perk me up!

I was keen to visit Bury as they hang around the dead men of the 9th tier. What’s it like playing in a division where crowds are often around the 300 mark? Last time I was at Gigg Lane they were happily overspending in the 3rd tier. I wonder how that panned out? I’m not worried about getting in, after all, the capacity is 12,500, isn’t it? And even though it’s a top of the table clash, I’m not envisioning a sellout. Dangerous.

It turns out huge swathes of Gigg Lane aren’t open to fans. ‘Who do you blame?’ ‘The council’ says a helpful lady, as she encourages me to get in the Cemetery End ASAP, as she ‘doesn’t want me to miss out after coming all this way’ (a 40 minute drive over the Pennines). The South and Main Stands are sold out and the Manchester Road End closed to the public. The Main Stand is maybe at 20% capacity, the South Stand 80%, but rules is rules. I head for the Cemetery End.

I’m incredibly early, there’s an hour to kick-off. But I thought I’d get parked (which turns out to be in a side street a couple of hundred metres from the ground) and perhaps have a pre-match snifter. There are signs to a bar on the Main Stand side, but, of course, I can’t get into that bit. So I head under the Cemetery End to see what’s on offer in the concourse. It is AWFUL in there, a massed queue down a dingy corridor, half of it closed off. With a bumper crowd here today (Bury’s 2nd highest of the season after their Boxing Day fixture), the interval is worse, as there’s space for half a dozen blokes at a time in the loos to have a ‘comfort break’.

I peruse the alcoholic offerings. Strongbow, Strongbow Dark Fruits and Carling. So nothing drinkable there then, so I head into the stand, back row, to read my programme. Or programmes. The game was previously postponed in February, so I get the original programme as well as an updated 16 page inlay. Excellent. I learn that Wythenshawe were formed in 1946 and they’re currently playing at their highest ever level, in stark contrast to the Shakers.

It’s actually quite cosy, the Cemetary End, as the roof wraps around to the South Stand. There’s also no pillars in my way, though it’s been built a number of yards behind the goal. Perhaps there’s a reason they didn’t build it closer, thereby also giving themselves more space to have a concourse, rather than a corridor, under the stand? The other three stands all have pillars, though the enclosed nature of the ground, the blue seats and even the corrugated roof fascias all bring to mind a smaller version of Loftus Road. It’s dated (without being historic) but snug. I am also pleased to hear ‘Olympic’ by 808 State (better known as the theme tune to The Word) pre-match. There is not enough 808 State played at football these days.

The match is keenly fought, as one would expect, though Bury have the upper hand for the most part, as they should. A side with over four thousand here today ought to be too much for a side with a usual crowd of less than one-tenth that. They go ahead in the 63rd minute as Captain Tom Moore (no, not that one) bundles home a free kick. Reward then for his constant moaning on at the ref for not booking the free kick’s original miscreant (ignoring that his own player then kicked out at said visitor).

Bury are in total control, barring the odd counter. Even then, Wythenshawe don’t have the courage of their convictions to actually test the home keeper. Time is running out, fans are leaving. The board shows 8 minutes of injury time. 6 mins in, there’s still no sign of the Ammies causing an upset. I head down the steps, seeing others stood at the pitch perimeter, ready for a quick getaway. By the time I join them, all hell’s broken loose. What’s going on? It’s a penalty to Wythenshawe. Although I never took my eye off the pitch, it’s at the far end and by now I’m at pitch level.

By the time Bryan Ly steps up to take it, we’re past the 8 minutes. There’s no doubt time’s up. Is the pressure of playing in front of his biggest crowd of the season too much pressure for Ly? Or does it help that there’s no fans behind that goal? He steps up, scores, and the Wythenshawe 100 in one corner of the Cemetery End go wild. They can’t believe it. Not only has David grabbed a draw at Goliath, it’s put Wythenshawe in control of their own destiny at the top end of the North West Counties League. The ref blows for full-time and their players race to the aforementioned corner to celebrate. Good luck to ‘em.

The Damage: £10 ent £3 programme = £13

*2 days later, on Easter Monday, Wythanshawe lose the derby at Town 2-1, in front of 1200. The table now looks like this:

Pld Pts GD
1. Wythenshawe Town 43 89 +46
2. Wythenshawe 42 85 +57
3. Bury 42 85 +55

It is, as they say, ‘all to play for’! (46 matches in the season.)

BFC 0-2 Cambridge United, Friday 29th March 2024

‘We’d be better off playing rugby.’

My cat’s dying, I’ve done my back in and the roof needs replacing, so it’s a good job I don’t rely on Barnsley FC to cheer me up. Christ, what a performance. Was that as bad as there’s been this season? Sideways, sideways, bit further forward out wide, back again to the centre circle…repeat ad infinitum. Throw in a comedy own goal, zero decent efforts on target and nary a corner to speak of, and that about sums it up. It was dirge from start to finish. Did I mention Coach Collins? All the tactical nouse of Mad Mel Machin. There were almost echoes of Mad Mel’s 4-2-4 with Liddell, Saville, Rammell, and Camel Pearson up front, as we finish with (finish with? Bl**dy hell, it was 17 minutes I’ll never get back) Cole, Cosgrove and Watters trying to get us a goal. Just let that sink in for a moment.

As ever, all of our threat, such as it was, came from the flanks. Jordan, on the overlap, fizzed in a delicious ball which Cadden (Cadden! Where’s our centre forwards?) put wide before they went ahead. MdG shrugs off that snidely, conniving, cheating get Lyle Taylor then fires a backpass into the bottom corner. ‘That’s a goal’ I said before Roberts has chance to react. They’ve only been playing together all season, so it’s nice that the pair of them have a goalscoring relationship, cos no-one else in a red shirt has.

Still, we have the opportunity to equalise when McAtee misses the unmissable. Another gorgeous cross from the left (Earl) has Cole dummying it superbly completely missing his attempt and McAtee ghosting in at the back post for a tap-in. It’s 3 yards out FFS. He hits the post. Cambridge, with their 28% possession (invariably kicking the ball FORWARD) test Roberts out with a cheeky free kick from a wide angle before going 2-0 ahead, a header off a corner. Hold on though, the ref has spotted a non-existent foul. I’d be absolutely livid if I was a Cambridge fan. (What IS their nickname? I used to know them all. The U’s?)

At half-time I chat to Julian and Darrell. ‘Who do you blame, Julian?’ ‘All of ‘em.’ I think that was the general consensus. Darrell hits the nail on the head with Devante. ‘We’ve got the Cole we had 1st time round’, which is to say, he’s bl**dy awful. Can I remind people I’d have taken 250k for him in January? What’s he got since? One goal? I have Cher’s ‘If I could turn back time’ running through my head.

If I could turn back time
If I could find a way
I’d do everything I can
And you’d not stay

‘Let’s hope that was our bad half’ messages somebody. Errrr...I cannot remember us threatening their goal at all, second half. This is a side who’ve lost 6 in 7 (the other a draw) and have come to Oakwell on the back of 6-0 and 4-0 away wallopings. Cole chests it and bobbles one to the keeper. Cole hooks wide from 6 yards out. Cole is inches away from a right wing (O’Keefe?) cross. He always is. I’m starting to think the other players are in on the joke, always playing the ball JUST too far for our centre forward to get on the end of it. Or b) he’s just not very good.

Still, Coach Collins awakens the fans with his subs. He hauls McAtee for being our most likely player to create something, and puts on Cosgrove. There’s muted booing before several chants in McAtee’s name. O’Keefe comes on for McCart. It’s all the latter’s fault, again. Even without Pines we have enough centre halves to play Jordan out wide, but Coach Collins knows best. And it makes a difference, as Cambridge go two up within 5 minutes. A hopeful free kick forward is looped into the far corner of the net from 12 yards via a visitor’s head. The away fans cannot believe what is happening, and their earlier ‘How s*** must you be, we’re winning away’ morphs into ‘Can we play you every week?’ Indeed.

The closest we get is an appeal for a penalty, as...Phillips?...is grappled to the floor just after the ref warns the players to stop grappling as a free kick was about to come in. It’s ok though, he gives a free kick on the halfway for the exact same offence a couple of minutes later. Otherwise, the half’s highlight is Taylor getting injured and subbed, the snidely, conniving, cheating get. He still gets the last laugh though, as he’s allowed to limp off 40 yards to the halfway line, rather than the 10 yards he was from behind the goal. The very goal where the changing rooms are, where he could get some treatment for that nasty, wasty lil’ hurtyness. Superb sh*thousery, and I’d be disappointed if he did anything else.

Then, with 81 minutes on the clock, Coach Collins sends on Cotter and Watters. Cotter and Watters. For Cadden and Phillips. I spend 17 minutes (8 mins injury time) cackling to myself like some Victorian lunatic sent to the madhouse. Max Watters. I’m grinning inanely even as I write the words. It’ll be all-out aerial assault now. (The next ball in is subsequently a knee high cross cleared by the first defender). We didn’t even get Cotter comedically trying to take on defenders, cos we never gave him the ball.

Onwards and upwards!

*** Connell. Least worst of a bad bunch.
** O’Keefe. Did ok when he came on.
* Watters. Only kidding. Earl.

Official MOTM: Connell

Londontykes’ MOTM: 1. Connell 2. O’Keefe 3= Earl / No-one

Despatches:
It was good to see the Super Reds taking up the cause of republicanism, though someone else reckoned the ‘Reds against the Royals’ ads on the digital displays referred to some forthcoming football match or other. Disappointing.

Good on the Reds too for losing, and for the defeat to be signposted long enough for many fans to leave before the final whistle. I was parked up next to Grove Street and got out very easy ta very much. Also, I like a trip to Cambridge, so that’s one away game sorted next season (fingers crossed it’s not midweek).

The players? Herbie Kane. Not for the first time I ask ‘what’s he for?’ The most sideways passes this side of Stephen McPhail and Mitch Ward combined. Mind, I can understand why he kicks it square, cos every time he kicks it forward it runs through to the goalkeeper. MdG had a good game tussling with that snidely...etc Lyle Taylor, and had the better of it, if we ignore his absolute howler. Which I won’t. Roberts saved us from going three down in another break. Yes, aside from the two goals, the closest anyone came to scoring was Cambridge (when they did; disallowed) and Cambridge, when they didn’t (Roberts saving a one-one one). There is nothing I can say in favour of anyone else, other than they didn’t fall over while putting one foot in front of the other (though, actually, Cole slipped trying to get...failing...to get on the end of rebound.)

I asked a select few the other week where they would like to see us win promotion…Oakwell, Blackpool (last away game) or Wembley. Well, that horse (donkey?) has left town. Since collapsing in that last half hour against Bolton, we have been hammered at home by Lincoln, lost to Cambridge, and failed to score against Cheltenham, the latter two in deep relegation trouble. Morale is at such a low ebb that I overheard one fan say they hope we DON’T go up, as we’ll get embarrassed in the Championship. Personally, I presume we’ll replace Cole, Kane and all the other ne’er do wells. But I live in hope.

Drink du jour: Siren, followed by Northern Monk Faith, which appeared halfway through in Spiral City. The amber nectar.

Away: 483. Respectable. And presuming they stay up, will all those chanting ‘Barnsley’s a sh*thole, I wanna go home’ take heed of themselves and not bother next season?

The Damage:
c.£8 petrol
= c.£8

Ashton United 0-2 Macclesfield, Tuesday 26th March 2024

Ashton United 0-2 Macclesfield, Northern Premier League Premier Division, Hurst Cross, att. 764

With just over a month to go before the end of the season, things are hotting up in the Northern Premier League (Premier Division). Whilst runaway leaders Radcliffe look nailed on for the one automatic promotion berth, the play-off places are far from decided. From nowhere, Ashton United, 4 successive wins, are eagerly poised for a challenge. Fresh from a 5-2 demolition of Radcliffe on the leader’s home turf, tonite sees a crucial clash at Hurst Cross against the division’s most high-profile members, Macclesfield, one place and 4 points above them the last play-off place.

I cross the Pennines and ask Darlo Kev if he’s coming out to play. United are close enough to be walkable from his house and it’d make a nice change from trying to park in a back street somewhere. We arrive in plenty of time for a pint. The clubhouse, ‘The Cross Bar’...Hurst Cross...see what they did there?...is very smart indeed. In fact, it’s a lot better than many pubs I’ve visited and different class to town neighbours Curzon’s portacabin. We are lucky enough to grab the final table and admire some old (1960s) Ashton programmes, framed on the wall.

The bar is on the right as you enter the turnstiles. To the left is the main stand, modern in look yet full of stanchions. It can’t be more than 25 yards long. Then comes some terracing, which sweeps round the rest of the ground, between 4 and 8 steps deep. The other 3 sides all have cover, to a varying degree. To the left, a small white structure at the top of the steps, to the right, what looks like one long bike shed. There’s no rain, so everyone’s out in the open. The far touchline has a cover along most of it, and we take a pew here 2nd half.

1st half, we’re mostly to the left of the away dugout. The odd fan comes up and says hello to the coach. Lovely. With Macc kicking towards this end, 1st half, the vast majority of their support has congregated down here. It’s Ashton’s 2nd highest crowd of the season (after a Boxing Day clash with FC United of Manchester) and probably around half are Macclesfield. No Robbie Savage, tonite, I overheard in the social club. His son’s been drafted into the Wales squad for a crucial Euros qualifier Poland (they lost on pens). According to the same source, former England cricket captain Michael Vaughan is here though. ‘He was born in Lancashire, wasn’t he?’ says Kev. Was he? I dunno.

The pitch down by our side is a thing of beauty. Churned up mud, it mirrors some of the farmers’ fields at present. It looks hazardous, but Macc aren’t bothered and there’s plenty of play in this corner as Macc take control. A ball is lofted over from this wing, the centre halves underestimate its length and it’s sidefooted home on the backpost. Macclesfield fans take potshots at the keeper, possibly cos he’s within hearing distance, rather than any actual blame, though it works as, unnerved, his kicking becomes unsure. Just after the half hour, the Silkmen grab a 2nd, as Sam Perry beats 2 players, cuts inside and hits it low from 20 yards. At 22 and having played 30 games for Walsall, he’s probably playing below his ability (and hopefully being handsomely remunerated for it). Macclesfield currently average 3,117, nearly twice as high as 2nd played FCUM.

The Silkmen are in total control and I see no way back for Ashton. But hang on…we’re 60 or so minutes in and the Macc keeper comes sprinting out of his area. There’s no way he’s getting to the ball first and he takes out the Ashton forward in spectacular style. A red is brandished and, with no keeper on the bench, one of Macc’s smallest players takes the gloves. Game on. Or rather, that should’ve been game on. What follows is half an hour of anti climax as Ashton overhit balls and put absolutely no pressure on a keeper who obviously has no idea what he’s doing, other than diving on the ball once it’s ran through to him, a la Jordan Pickford. The one ‘shot’ he saves is an overhit cross which lands on his chest. In a game they needed to win, Ashton only have themselves to blame for not performing. Still, 5th placed Hyde are only 6 points ahead...and the Robins have 2 games in hand. The play-off dream is not dead yet.

The Damage:
£12 ent
£2 programme
£8.60 pints of Cruzcampo and Guinness
= £22.60