Cod Almighty | Match Report

by Tony Butcher

15 August 2009

The Invisibles 0 Cheshire Chuggers 4

Newell may have torn down the local palais and built a bowling alley, but fings are still wot they used to be.

As Danny North struck the Menno Willems' memorial strip light at the front of the Pontoon a lonely injured pigeon lay forlornly upon the floor of the toilets below. No-one helped, people watched and walked away: no one cared. The poor little Pontoon pigeon was left to die.

Town lined up in a 4-4-2 formation as follows: Forecast, Stickdale, Atkinson, Bennett, Widdowson, Fuller, Boshell, Leary, Heggggarty, Conlon and Ak-Ak. The substitutes were Overton, Linwood, Heywood, Sweeney, Clarke, North and Proudlock. Forecast is tall, exceedingly nervous and with a convict's hairstyle; he looked like a victim waiting to be mugged.

We gazed upon the Crewe team and espied height. We gazed upon Newell's renewal number three:Town looked like victims waiting to be mugged.

First half - condensed milk
Crewe kicked off towards the Pontoon, the wind blew and Town were carrots in their own stew. Well, Atkinson's not the world's most physical guy, but when Zola squeezed tight he nearly broke Town's spine. Town were flummoxed by Zola and Crewe's 3-4-3 narrow gauge formation.

Forecast missed a cross; Forecast punched a cross; Forecast flapped a cross; a cross crossed and Forecast watched as the Pontoon got cross.

Town kicked the ball out of play. It's called progress.

Zola rocked, Zola rolled, Moore and Grant shoved our baby back four in, twisted them around, then started to move and a-groove all around. Town looked like 11 empty shirts billowing in the wind.

After 18 minutes of country dancing Town had a shot: Hegggarty flippered wildly. On the half hour Ak-Ak trod on the ball, rolled his wrists and walked off, replaced by Proudlock.

A Town corner was cleared, Crewe ran away and scored. Some bloke dinked from their right, ZOLA, with his back to goal and marked by Big Josh Fuller, chested the ball down, fell backwards and shinned the ball over his shoulder from a dozen yards out. Forecast stepped forward, stepped back and the ball arched slowly over and in. The rest is window dressing in an empty shopping mall.

Hadn't Town done well to last 34 minutes before conceding.

La-di-da. Leary shot, Ada fell over and grown men went to the toilet. The pigeon was still alive. Players ambled and shuffled, the wind blew the ball from side to side and out of play. Zola roamed the savannah chewing the cud waiting for the next moment to milk Town.

They passed, Town watched. Town watched, they passed. Moore coiled a simple cross in from the shadows of the Findus and Zola hopped unmarked on the penalty spot. Forecast ran out and the ball arced gently off ZOLA's head into the middle of emptiest of empty nets to score the easiest of easy goals.

There's nothing more. Town had no idea how to stop them or start themselves. Crewe turned up in a Trabant while Town travelled to work in a clown's car. Honk.

Second half - evaporated milk
Neither team made any changes at half time.

Town kicked off and 30 seconds later they were kicking off again. Hegggarty dawdled and Moore ran into the penalty area as a throw-in was thrown. Hegggarty fell over Moore, who fell over: penalty. JONES tapped it to the right as Forecast surfed left

Dazed and confused? What's puzzling you is the nature of the game. Fuller and Hegggarty were immediately replaced by Sweeney and North with Town moving to a 4-3-3 formation. North and Proudlock ran around a lot, which is as good as it gets these days. There were moments when Town almost threatened to threaten, nearly approaching a moment, but Boshell kept trying to shoot into the crowd before the crowd shot him.

Zola wheedled through weedy tackles and Crewe scored again, but someone, somewhere was offside. Zola tweedle-deed through two tackles and caroused wide. The Shoemaker thwicketed into the side netting and there is no point is there. Really, what is the point? Did anyone really care, or were they just waiting for the end and the score didn't matter. There didn't even look to be much personal pride, North and Proudlock aside.

Forecast even made three saves as the slow train chugged into the station, signals on green, brass band playing and the local dignitaries lined up on the platform to tug forelocks and doff top hats.

If you really want to scrape the barrel, Town made their keeper make a save. Boshell's deep corner was belted goalwards by Bennett's head. The bright Button clawed it on to the post. That was Town's only moment in the entirety of this game. That was it.

In added time Crewe got a free kick just outside the area and Jones curled it towards the top left corner. Forecast parried onto the post and MOORE tapped in from three yards out. Harsh, but fair. Without even trying hard they should have scored seven.

There was no Town today, there were eleven mannequins around which Crewe trained lightly.

Standing, staring, glaring, half time. Nightmaring, despairing, wearing, past caring, the end.

The weather forecast is more showers on Tuesday.