CHAOS - Too. Week B

Barrow (Away) Part 2

Same game slightly later on.

Fudge, Macca, Macca Jnr and I were stood behind the goal next to the changing room tunnel (a metal cage dissecting the stand in half). Next to the cage was a yellow zigzag no go area "roped off" with motorway tape. The rather elderly steward informed us that on no account must we encroach into that jaundiced coloured area on pain of death, eviction from the ground or being forced to live in Barrow for the rest of our lives. Apparently the club didn't want abuse, spit, beer and other items of encouragement being unleashed on the players leaving and entering the arena.

A little later we were amused to see a couple of guys in tracksuit tops (complete with Barrow badges displayed) go and stand in this "no-go area". The steward eventually made his way over to them and rather politely told them that they couldn't stay there as he "didn't want the players being intimidated in any way" as the half came to a close. To which the shorter of the two miscreants retorted "I'm hardly likely to do that, am I ? I'm the bl****y Barrow kit man !"

But ref…

I was playing for my school team in a local competition one Saturday (some time in the early 90’s). There were lots of school teams there and we played a series of round robin games (15 minutes each way, I think) with the best 4 teams going onto the semi-finals.

We were pretty average as a team. Not the best, but by no means the worst, so we were hopeful of doing quite well.

My position was goal keeper. I ended up as a goal keeper on account of me being the tallest and, perhaps more significantly, having the least regard for my own personal safety.

I remember the weather was pretty bad. It wasn't raining but it had been for the last 2 weeks. The pitches were like a quagmire with very little grass on show.

Our first game was against a local school we knew quite well. It wasn't exactly a grudge match but they had a striker who was miles quicker and more skillful than anyone else on the pitch. Not a big deal, until you realise that he was the best player and he knew it and enjoyed telling everyone else.

So, I knew I was going to be kept pretty busy in goal.

There were three notable moments in the match. The first was after about 5 minutes when the super-striker/t*sser was played in behind our defence. It was a one on one and he didn't usually miss these opportunities. I made a blinding double save and managed to get the ball away. Round 1 to me.

Second was when they were awarded a penalty as the start of the second half. I’d like to say it was dubious, but it wasn't. Our centre back cropped their player like a good ‘un. The slippy-slidey-muddy pitch didn't help, but it was a stonewaller. Of course, super striker/t*sser was the man to take the penalty. And I was the super keeper who saved it! Round 2 to me.

And then with about 2 minutes left he was played in behind our defence again; another one on one. There was no way I was going to let them win it at the end, especially to him! So, I ran out of my goal to close him down, his control let him down on the soggy pitch, so I kept running. I dived at his feet at full pelt and got to the ball first before he flipped over me and into the mud. I rose to accept my hero welcome only to hear the ref blow his whistle and point at my goal. Nooooooooo! I wasn't having this!

Me: “But ref, I clearly got there first!”
Ref: “I know”
Me: “But ref, I never touched him – he just dived over me!”
Ref: “I know”
Me: “But ref, it can’t be a penalty, I got the ball!”
At this point I helpfully held the ball up in his face so he could see it.
Ref: “I know. I haven’t given a penalty”
Me: “What?”
Ref: “Son, look where you are standing”

So I looked around. At this point I could also hear all my team mates and opposition players laughing, quite loudly.

I looked down and saw that I was about 6 feet outside the penalty box. In running and diving on the muddy pitch my momentum had taken me way out of the penalty box.

Me: “Oh”
Ref: “Son, it’s a free kick for hand ball. You’re lucky I've not given you a red card. But I’m about to change my mind, so give me the ball and get back in goal.”
Me: “Yes, sir”

Cue more laughter.

Anyway super striker/t*sser skied the free kick over the bar and we ended up in a not so dull 0-0 draw.

It took me a long time to live that one down!


Note: the ref is not my father, nor I his son.  He just called everyone 'son' for some reason.

Balls

The Mitre Mouldmaster (I know I've posted this before on Yuku, and it was shamelessly lifted from a St Mirren fans forum, but it's too brilliant to be left to rot in internet oblivion):

"Ah, the wonderful "mouldie".

You get to high school (in my case St Aelred's) and for the last few weeks of the summer you are sent running round the grounds during your double PE. October comes and out you go to the basketball court, then it is gymnastics till christmas.

Then the fun starts, January arrives ( a real january, not the sub-tropical nonsense we get today) and we at last get to play footie. the temperature is a baw-hair above freezing and the psychopath appointed as the PE teacher announces that we are to brave the 60 mph breeze and horizontal hail stones and play "bibs v skins". You turn blue, then purple, and then a previously undiscovered shade of grey as you trot out on the field of dreams. Then someone rolls the ball in front of the freak that looks as though someone has made a mistake on his birth certificate. A 12 year old with a moustache and a serious height and weight advantage over every teacher in school. He cant tie his laces or stop the drool from soaking his semmit, but my he can hit a mouldie. From five yards away he cannons a shot into the inside of you thigh, you tried to evade it but the cold stops your legs from responding properly. Oh the pain. Women who complain about the pain of childbirth should be taken outside, hosed down with icy water for ten minutes then hit with a mouldie. Then they will truly know pain.

My eyes are still watering and somehow writing it all down doesnt seem to help. Mines is a scarred generation."

I know it doesn't count as my anecdote, but it's an absolute classic nonetheless!

For the purposes of credit, it was taken from a brilliant post by the user 'spirit of 77' on the St Mirren 'blackandwhitearmy' forum:

www.blackandwhitearmy.com/forums/index.php/topic/12556-plastic-footballs/?p=250119

Buxton (away):

This may well be a match of great historical significance for County Heaven. It was of course the first ever arranged meeting of heaveners, the attendees that day were myself, Sheff, Bolly and CountyTom.

We started off meeting up in a pub in Buxton who's name has gone from my memory, we had a few pints in there before going to another pub and having a couple more before taking on the monumental task of climbing the enormous hill from town centre to ground. Those familiar with Buxton will know what hill I mean.

We finally got into the ground and had a wander round and noticing a recently released Adam Griffin training with the County players, we enquired to McStay who was Random Scottish Coach at the time, he obviously hinted that Griff was back, curiously he didn't sign....

The game was underway and within minutes two sets of utter cretins were fighting with each other, not long after order had been restored Buxton got a penalty that was superbly saved by Glennon in the County goal.

It evades me who scored County's 1st, I feel it was Martin Gritton but the 2nd one was a brilliant near post, top corner strike from Sean McConville who was building the illusion he was a good footballer. The match eventually finished 2-0 to County.

After the game we managed to stick around for pictures with Hamann and Lynch, in doing this we also inadvertently met two other heaveners in Maccy and Pouchy.

The day ended with us going to another pub and finding out the sad news that Amy Winehouse had died and the victim list for the Norwegian shootings had been confirmed and released.

Finally after a 45 minute wait me and Sheff boarded the train back to Stockport, I found out he was a Flyers fan, he found out I was a Canucks fan and the relationship was never as strong again.

Excellent stuff Archie, Thank you very much.

My first, and only ever, first ball dismissal was bblw in the Derbyshire and Cheshire League Junior Final vs Poynton, c1970 :-

Bollocks Before Leg Wicket !! Very sore and very aggrieved about that one. 

Excellent, archie!