Phoenix Uprisings

Tuesday 12th April - Easington Utd Reserves 5 Priory Athletic3
Saturday 16th April - Phoenix FC (home)Drew 1-1

I didn't take the South Normanton defeat very well.  And after a few days dwelling on some of the things that had occurred during the afternoon, I vented my spleen in the following week's programme notes, for the game against Phoenix...

Frustration is certainly a word that sums up the current mood among those involved with our management.

Our recent performances have left Dave almost speechless.  To go from the high of the Yorkshire Main result to the low of Thorne and then last week’s below-par display against South Normanton almost defies any worthwhile analysis.

It’s therefore almost a blessing for Mack that the pressures of a new day job have prevented him from being able to pen his notes this weekend.  And with assistant Ian also snowed under with work commitments, it’s left to me to try and put across some thoughts on the current situation.

Having witnessed the debacle at Thorne Colliery first-hand, like everyone else I expected some sort of reaction last week; which is why I found the performance against South Normanton extremely frustrating.

On the face of it, 3-0 is an emphatic scoreline and probably underlines the visitors’ superiority on the day.  However, the fact that – individually and collectively - we didn’t help our cause leaves me really disappointed.

By this I don’t just mean the habit we’ve developed of conceding goals in batches.  This in itself is worrying enough but I think the current problems run much deeper than simple mistakes on the pitch.  Many are becoming apparent even before a ball has been kicked.

As opponents, South Normanton were no better than Yorkshire Main.  But whereas everybody was really “up” for the latter game, I got the feeling last week that there was a certain “end of season air” about the place.  Perhaps inspired by the Thorne defeat, I don’t know.  But I do know that if the same attitude is adopted today and at Hutton Cranswick on Wednesday, we’ll be on the end of further defeats.

At our level of football, the Committee and Management cannot govern what players do in their private lives.  We rely on their own self-discipline to ensure they arrive on match days in the best frame, physically and mentally, to play football.  It’s been apparent for some time that this is not happening.

Add the fact that we are no longer able to hold regular training sessions and it’s easy to see why we are now slipping below the standards we set ourselves at the end of last season.

Confirmation of our status at Step 7 for 2011/12 means only four clubs in the East Riding are now able to offer a higher level of football than is available at Low Farm.  All are semi-professional, with three of them representing sizeable urban areas.

For a village the size of Easington to have progressed to this status is testament to the hard work of a significant number of people over several years.  Many of those who have put this work in did so in the knowledge that they wouldn’t directly benefit from it.  And this is why it galls me to see the current “lax” attitude being adopted by some of those who will get a chance to test themselves against quality opponents week-in, week-out.

It’s also disappointing for our loyal supporters, especially that hardy band who follow us across the “Central Midlands” region. 

Away from match day, the fact that we were forced to give up one of the best training facilities in the area due simply to not being able to justify the cost also still rankles me and again prompts the question: do the players at this club really have the same appetite as the Committee to continue taking things forward?

The win over Yorkshire Main and that at Hucknall earlier this season would suggest they do; the attitude on show at Thorne, again last week and in truth on several other occasions this season tells a very different story. 

So it’s time for the players to make up their minds as to where they want to ply their trade on a Saturday afternoon.  Do they want to continue to try and better themselves or are they content to drop back into the Saturday afternoon equivalent of “pub football”?  These are the questions I’ll be asking of them today.

Make no mistake about it; we have let ourselves down this season and especially in recent weeks – but we still have time to rectify the situation by finishing strongly, beginning here today.

You know when the minute something appears in print and you immediately wish you hadn't said it?  Well, this was one of those moments.  But only for a split-second.  And after re-reading my own words a couple of times, I felt satisfied that if nothing else, I'd got a load off my chest.
Plus the fact that, given I'd had these typed and printed up early in the week, I had a few days in which to reconsider any points where I felt I may have stepped a little too far over the mark before the players themselves read them.

Away from events at Low Farm, good wins for City (at Watford), Rovers (over the Whinos) and an opening-match success for Yorkshire in the County Championship had ensured all was far from doom and gloom in my own "world of sport".  But of course, our First Team result shapes my weekend...
Another thing dominating the weekend was the injury sustained by the Younger Slushette at her sister's birthday party on the Saturday night.  This resulted in a trip to A & E at Hull Royal and a subsequent appointment at the Fracture Clinic!  Indirectly it  also allowed the Elder Slushette a "sleepover" at one of her friends...so at least somebody was happy about things!
Monday night brought a meeting of the Easington Recreation & Sports Association, the organisation set up back in the early-90s to "secure and develop a piece of land for the purposes of sport & recreation in the village".
I was on the original Committee but stood down after a difference of opinion with the then Chairman.  I've been back on it, so to speak, for two years now (since the aforementioned Chairman himself resigned).  During my absence, a piece of land was secured (i.e. bought) but trying to develop it has proved difficult given the scale of the plans proposed and the cost these entail.
But this meeting promised a sort of "rebirth" for the ERSA, with several budding new members and a proposal to in effect scale down the existing plans to something more attainable.  Wearing my Football Club hat alongside my ERSA one, I could see nothing but benefits from the acceptance of such proposals and as such I went home that night a contented soul.

Muck or Nettleship

Tuesday was H. E. Dean Cup night again, with Division 4 side Priory Athletic the  3rd Round visitors to the Farm.
I arrived just in time to see the Stiffs take the lead - very much against the run of play - courtesy of Luke Nettleship's first goal for the club; a close-range volley after the keeper could only palm Stumo's header into his path.
Belying their lowly status, however, Priory were knocking the ball about confidently and they turned the game completely on its head...albeit aided by a couple of "clangers" from keeper Duggie!
By the break, order had been restored; Stumo heading home as did Lewis Green, although he was helped in no small part by a complete misjudgment from the Priory netminder.

"Ah..."

The second half brought further goals for Stu and Frosty, with the visitors netting a third near the end - reward for their never-say-die spirit and no shortage of footballing ability.
A bonus on the night was the reappearance at Low Farm of Hutchie, back from  University.  Sadly, it appears it was only for one game before he departed on an overseas jolly - it's tough being a student these days!

A Hutch in the hutch

"Anymore messing around and you won't play in the quarters..."

With Club Sec Judy away for a couple of days (and taking in Bradford Park Avenue v Hucknall Town while at it!), it was left to the Dynamic Duo of Chairman Doug and Vice-Chair Mickey Bo to run the Tea Hut.  Cue plenty of abuse from the Farm Faithful and no shortage of "mickey-taking" from their fellow Committee members.  Still, despite at times looking like Chard & Bromhead in Zulu, overall they coped admirably and - if pushed to admit it - I think they probably enjoyed themselves!

No Feeding Please

The evening's feel-good factor was maintained on getting home to catch commentary of City's deserved draw at The Liberty Stadium.  "We are Hull City, we don't lose away!"  And had Robbie Koren shown just a little more composure in front of goal we could have even been celebrating a cracking win.  Still, the Play-offs remain in reach...
With Saturday's match programme safely put to bed, I tried to use the latter end of the week to catch up on this blog.  Along the way, my trawling of the net came up with a couple of real gems.
For a start the Retro To Go site was offering 1980s Adidas Samoa trainers at a penny shy of £57!  Jeez, I'm still wearing a pair I bought for less than half that some ten years ago...hip ahead of my time!  
And staying with the Eighties, I also stumbled upon this musical gem from the early part of that era.  Although the actual quality is sadly lacking, it served to immediately transport me back to the Friday rock 'n' roll nights at Hull's Goodfellowship Inn.  I was "only sixteen" when I first ventured through the doors - allowed in by special permission of the landlord - and can still remember the sight that confronted me.  Aside from the handful of middle-aged Teds, the vast majority of the 200-odd present were dressed straight out of a US High School Hop, all flat tops, peg pants and cat chains.
  

Wild nights at The Goodfellowship

Two gigs in particular stand out, The Blue Cats (whose 'Wild Night' was "Sounds Single of the Week" in 1981!) and The Jets (whose 'Love Makes The World Go Round 'received an airing on Q The 80s not so long back).  However, although they never played there, the reason why it's The Meteors footage that brings back memories of such times is on account of a character called "Gypsy Steve".  It's hard to describe how he looked - apart from pointing to the audience in this 1981 promo for "Graveyard Stomp" - but "manic" is about the nearest one-word summation!  I decided to adopt the same look...which probably accounts for my lack of success with the ladies for a large chunk of that time.  Ah, but they were great days all the same.
For much of Thursday it appeared that "great days" were also back on the agenda for Yorkshire County Cricket Club as they reduced Durham to 134-6 on day one of their latest County Championship match.  Unfortunately my "tweet" predicting a wagging of the visitors' tail was to prove somewhat prophetic; worse still, it would be followed by a Yorkshire collapse the following day.

My first "local"

As wickets continued to fall at Headingley, I decided to go and introduce myself to the new "Mine Hosts" at The White Horse (or "The Oss" as its known locally) on the Friday lunchtime.  I did so and was delighted to be informed that the new landlord "likes his ales".  Hand-pulled Black Sheep and Abbot's had me excited about the future.
Not sure about the short-term future for Hull KR though.  Unforced errors killed them in a 16-28 home defeat at the hands of Wigan and prompted several callers to Humberside demanding Coach Justin Morgan's resignation.  Cocks.
Mind you, I did amuse myself with the thought that defeat at home to Rotherham based strugglers Phoenix on Saturday afternoon might prompt similar calls for regime change from the Farm Faithful!
Knowing Mack as I do, it's in the knowledge that he too will be far from happy with current goings-on at first team level.  As such he'd asked the players to be there half-an-hour earlier for a pre-match "meeting".
Unwittingly I somewhat hijacked this to explain the views I'd outlined in the programme.  This seemed to knock Mack off his stride but he too then proceeded to get the message across that an improvement in all departments was needed.
Well, he certainly got that.  But he didn't get the three points.  And for this, Phoenix could thank "third choice" keeper James Wood who produced a string of fine saves.
The visitors were also helped by some good fortune and some poor Easington finishing.  Thankfully, Blounty came up with a goal on the stroke of half-time to cancel out Steven Parry's opener.

Wood proves a firm barrier...

...along with his defenders

Phew!

But try as we might after the break - and especially in the last twenty minutes when we really did hammer at the Phoenix door - no winning goal was forthcoming.  "Frustration at the Farm" just about summed it up perfectly.  Still, Hull City won... 

Thanks to Burt Graham for (most of) the photography

Outshone by The Shiners

Tuesday 5th April - Easington Utd Reserves 4 Long Riston Reserves 1
Saturday 9th April - South Normanton Athletic (home) Lost 0-3

Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful, somewhat in contrast to what had gone the day before.  And I don't just mean the debacle that had been the Thorne Colliery game.  The back pages and sports bulletins were all dominated by the outcry following Wayne Rooney's profanities into a TV camera after scoring at West Ham.  Meanwhile City's home defeat by Millwall had appeared to scuppered the Play-Off dreams...again.  

Thankfully, the Slushettes had been invited to a birthday party, which helped take  thoughts away from the not-so-Beautiful Game.
Sunday evening brought an episode of Countryfile with a really local flavour.  It focused on the Yorkshire Wolds, with a particularly interesting piece on the Kiplingcotes Derby, said to be the oldest flat race in England.  With a new series of Lewis and the cracking Waking The Dead to follow, it was a struggle to squeeze in my "fix" of Q The 80s.  A burst of The Primitives and an all-time fave from Prefab Sprout ensured I probably got to hear the best bits.
Monday, and another change of listening habits.  A new afternoon slot on 6 Music for Mark Radcliffe and Stuart Maconie offered a decent way of helping the afternoon pass.  Especially when The Pogues' Sally MacLennane featured on their opening playlist.  "What the fuck is this?" from those around me in the office ensured I'd made the right choice.  Philistines. 
By the end of the week, The Waterboys' Whole of the Moon and On Melancholy Hill by Gorillaz would also bring a thumbs-up from this listener.  Along with the rapport between the co-presenters of course.

"The next round is that way"

Tuesday brought the first midweek football of the season to Low Farm, with the Stiffs entertaining Long Riston Reserves as they began their defence of the League President's Trophy (the H. E. Dean Cup).

This was a second round tie.  While the locals had benefited from Skirlaugh's concession, visitors Long Riston had earned their trip to the Humber Riviera by virtue of a penalty shootout win at Withernsea Reserves a week earlier.

The two sides had met at the quarter-final stage last year. In a feisty encounter at Main Street, the Stiffs had completed a comfortable 5-1 win but had seen Frosty sent off along with two members of the home side.

Ironically, one of the two in question was in the line-up again this evening...and was due to mark the aforementioned Frost who gained a place when Kev only had nine players at his disposal come the scheduled kick-off time.

Believe it or not this led to the goal...Burt missed it.

Attending the game in an unofficial capacity allowed me to stroll in some ten minutes after kick-off. Apparently I'd already missed goalkeeper Duggie keep out one excellent early chance for the visitors.

On 10mins Riston's defence failed to deal with a corner and Guisseppi - Joe for short - Pontone fired the Stiffs ahead from close range.  And by half-time we were three to the good, Fozzy curling home a cracking free-kick and Frosty latching on to a fine Stumo pass to make it 3-0.

He scores them...

...He saves them

When Frosty added his second shortly after the interval, the Stiffs appeared to be cruising through; thankfully with the visitors not resorting to the "robust" response of last season.   Instead, they actually seemed to step up a gear and, after several close shaves, they scored via a decent free-kick.  They then got a penalty (rather fortuitously in my view) for which Brettles received a yellow (rather harshly in my view) but which Duggie saved (rather easily in my view).  And they also found time to hit the post before Referee McLane blew for time.  We were through.

Duggie sees another clean sheet go for a Riston!

More blue skies and George Benson's Never Give Up On A Good Thing had me in a cracking mood come Wednesday.  
In more melancholy vein, Matthew Rudd brought us - via Twitter - John Medd's piece on the demise of Boothferry Park's once-magnificent floodlights.  The pylons had come down the previous Saturday and along with them disappeared "the final visible evidence that football was ever played there".  A sad day, also captured perfectly by Marcus Dysch in his fine Daring To Dream blog. 
Boothferry Park means nothing to the Elder Slushette but on Tuesday she was part of a school party visit to the KC Stadium.  Lucky little devil.  She came back "full of it", quoting facts and figures about the stadium in addition to taking some delight in pointing out that "Tigers' changing room is much bigger than the Black & Whites".  That's my girl.
It was a big week for daughter number one as Thursday (7th) brought her eighth birthday.  The day also marked 22 years since Mum died.  Our adoption of Mary as my first-born's middle name cements this poignant link between the two events.

Where a most Yorkshire of Yorkshiremen enjoys his tea

Both sets of grandparents accompanied us to the Crown & Anchor at Kilnsea for tea.  It was actually the Elder Slushette's decision to go there, although I'm sure Mrs Slush thought I'd prompted her!  As it was, the Timothy Taylor Landlord was on its usual fine form, as were the views across the Humber of a perfect early April sunset.
I'd mentioned how much I was looking forward to our choice of tea venue earlier in the day on Twitter.  This had prompted a reply from one of my "followers" to state, "i think u are definitely the most Yorkshire of Yorkshiremen I've ever met".  Possibly the nicest thing anyone's ever written about me!
Talking of Yorkshiremen, Friday witnessed the start of the County Championship season and the Tykes looking to make amends for their last-match failure in 2010.  With Jacques Rudolph having not been replaced, it was a mainly homegrown side that began the season down at New Road, Worcester.  
For me it meant the start of another summer spent in the company of Dave Callaghan and his online cricket commentary colleagues from around the country, one of whom - Notts' Dave Bracegirdle - offered this downbeat assessment of the White Rose chances.
Adil Rashid soon helped put such a pessimistic prediction to the back of one's mind; Worcester being dismissed for 286 on the first day.

And so to Saturday and the visit of the league leaders.  A chance for us to avenge our worst defeat of the season, which came back in October, as well as putting last weekend's horror show to bed. Ha-hem.

Ooh, needed that. Shiners keeper Baker relieves some pre-match tension

It helps in games like this if you have a full complement of players, who are all fully focused on the task in hand.  That didn't happen and we were punished for it.
Two goals conceded before the break - courtesy of Shiners top scorer Adam Nicholls' 31st of the season and Andy White's 20th - put us firmly on the back foot.
For our part, Man Mountain drilled wide and The Skipper was similarly off-target, while Frosty couldn't quite latch onto a free-kick at the far stick.

"Ave it!"

There was better news from the County League squad's two o'clock kick-offs coming through during the break, with the Stiffs recording a vital 2-1 win at AFC Rovers and the Casuals a fine 1-0 success at fellow hopefuls South Cave 3rds.

Skanking Mountain

But any hopes of a second half fightback at the Farm were soon quashed by Matt Phillips' close range finish.  
We continued to huff and puff and Normo keeper James Baker produced a decent stop to keep out a Kempy free-kick.  But there was a sense of inevitability about the whole thing. 

 

 

 

 

This would have been my fave sequence...had the goal stood!

With eight minutes to go Gav headed home but his two-handed push in the back of his marker hadn't gone unnoticed by the referee.  Our last chance of a comeback had gone.
The Elder Slushette's birthday disco at the local Youth Club meant no post-match pub for me, which was probably as well given how disappointed I was feeling with the attitude of certain players. 
My thoughts on this would have to wait for another day...

Thanks to Burt Graham and Colin Brammer for the photographs

Another Pitfall

Saturday 2nd April - Thorne Colliery (away) Lost 2-6



I celebrated our excellent win over the CML Premier Division title favourites in low-key fashion.  Not surprising really given the fact that Mrs Slush was out for the night, I was taxiing the Elder Slushette to a 10th birthday party disco and there were no free-to-air highlights of the afternoon's Wales v England game to watch.  Scandalous.  But here's not the place to bore you with another anti-Sky rant.

Ironically, in the immediate aftermath of our 1-0 win over Yorkshire Main, I said to manager Mack: "This won't mean owt if we go to Thorne and get dicked next week."  "Oh I know", came the reply.  Obviously the players weren't of the same opinion...
While we were producing our best performance to date at the Farm, on the road both our County League sides were destined for defeat.  But at least in the case of the Reserves, edged out 3-2 at title hopefuls Driffield Evening Institute, there was something to cheer with Craig Foster's 449th and 450th goals of a very illustrious Easington career.  The fact that they came in his 646th game reflects a pretty impressive strike-rate.

Unfortunately, a tragic recent family bereavement meant Foz was in no real mood to actually celebrate his feat when I met him at the venue of the aforementioned disco that the Elder Slushette was attending (a belated joint-birthday disco for my 10-yr-old godson and "some girlie").

And on the way home my mood wasn't improved by news of another defeat for Hull KR at home to the Giants.  These are worrying times in East Hull.

An enjoyable Sunday culminated in another evening spent listening online to Q The 80s.  And tonight's show was an absolute belter.  Welsh power-pop combo The Darling Buds (who in a distant life I'd interviewed at Hull University for the 'Hull Hell & Happiness' fanzine) 'Hit The Ground', Lloyd Cole's 'Brand New Friend', 'Come Back' from The Mighty Wah, De la Soul's 'Eye Know', Will Downing 'A Love Supreme' and the classic 'Thieves Like Us' from New Order.  A simply brilliant show...even allowing for some Tight Fit thrown in there.

The Younger Slushette has joined the after-school Cookery Club.  Aged four and a half.  Monday's offering was a pasta dish with sausage, ham, tomato and peppers.  She said I could take some for Tuesday's pack-up at lunch.  Mmmm.

Mrs Slush was entertaining some friends that evening; one of her irregular "Girly Nights" where several like-minded souls get to gether, drink wine, eat crisps and slag off the male species (or at least that what it appears like to me?).
No problem I thought.  The Reserves had Skirlaugh at home that night in the ER County League's Preseident's Trophy (H. E. Dean Cup) and with England v Ghana on ITV as well, it provided a perfect excuse to stay at the pub.
Unfortunately - for me, not the Reserves - Skirlaugh conceded the tie on the Monday evening.  Getting enough players to the coast for a prompt 6pm kick-off had proved beyond them.  Ah well, all the best laid plans...
I watched the England game on my own in the Slushettes' playroom, with Peppa Pig and a couple of bottles of Ruddles County for company.  What a game.  As someone who still regards England internantionals as the most important dates on the fixture list, how refreshing it was to see a set of players actually putting their all in for the Three Lions.  Strange to say that I know but I'm sure you get the gist?

A man and his Stand

There's something about Thorne, and in particular Moorends, that doesn't lend itself to a gorgeous spring day.  For reasons unknown the place seems to be better suited to the type of damp, autumnal conditions which greeted our previous visit last season.
Although the weather was in stark contrast to our previous visit, the ongoing problem with vandals, thieves etc at the Moorends Welfare Ground remained constant.
Their latest "visit" had resulted in theft of most of the copper wiring, leaving the changing rooms in a state of disrepair and with a significant lack of electricity.  It wasn't a great start.
En route to the game I tried to tune in my Walkman to Radio Humberside's commentary of the early kick-off at the KC.  It proved an onerous task - and not just because Steve Morison's first half goal for Millwall would be enough to settle matters.  Worse still, Leeds were thumping Forest.  The Play-Off dream was fading again.
Spirits in our rather sorry-looking dressing room were raised by former stripper Farny deciding to show all and sundry his lovely new line in underwear.  He was soon joined by Mozzer in a scene straight from The Full Monty, which again prompted much hilarity among their team mates, especially keeper Charlie...until he realised that the only item preserving Mozzer's modesty was in fact one of his gloves.  Ooh, I never knew he knew such language!

Moz feeling a proper Charlie. Or should that be...

With all players assigned their numbers and the team sheets dutifully completed, I accompanied The Pistol across to the actual pitch.
I must say I love this particular ground.  The main stand that forms its focal point still stands as proud as it did on construction by the now-departed Colliery circa 1930.  I asked programme editor (and all-round good egg) Paul Hodgkins if there had ever been other similar structures in place.  He couldn't give me a definitive answer but according to those who'd looked into the history of the club, the stand had been the only such feature.
In its heyday, crowds of 700 had been attracted for Yorkshire League fixtures and the ground had hosted many finals in that competition.  Given the noise that 20 or so beer-fuelled "Colliery Boys" had managed to generate in it on our previous visit, I could only imagine with some awe the atmosphere a full stand might have made.
Along with a trip down memory lane, I was also given chance to get close-up to the Goole & Thorne District Cup.  Solid silver in design and dating back to the 1920s, Colliery had won it for the first time in fifteen years the previous Friday, courtesy of an 8-1 thumping of FC Taverners.

That's some cup

Making that victory all the more sweeter was the inclusion in their opponents ranks of several former Thorne players, now content to ply their wares at Doncaster League level.
Apparently the victory - at the home of Goole AFC - had been celebrated in Thorne into the early hours.  This hadn't made for a very successful outing to Bulwell the following day, where the latest league game was duly lost 6-1.
"We had three or four missing, including the keeper, and several others were obviously carrying the effects of the night afore", said Paul.  Had he made it? "No. I'd promised t'wife we'd go shopping!"  Sounds like the right choice! 
By ten to five I'd be wishing I'd have opted to spend this afternoon shopping with Mrs Slush.  Indeed, I was beginning to think that at ten to four, by which time we were just the four down.
And yet we began well enough...

First minute - as good as it was going to get

 

 

 

It was a six-minute spell that did the damage.  And how.  

On 12mins, ex-Goole, Brid Town and one time pro striker Darren Fell beat sthe offside trap to lift the ball over Charlie for 1-0.

Straight from the restart, Moz puts Frosty in with a peach of a pass, the winger outpaces the cover but elects to go near post and hits the side-netting.

The ball is immediately pumped upfield, Lee Mason outjumps the Skipper to feed Craig Cookson who crosses for Fell to head home his second.

That's on 14mins and on 17 it's 3-0; the Skipper inadvertently heading past Charlie from another Cookson cross.  It's all gone Pete Tong.

Ironically, we could have been back in it.  The home keeper gets the referee's benefit of the doubt when Kempy's free-kick isn't held and Moz pounces; then Gav goes clear (similar to Fell's opener), elects to lob the keeper (similar to Fell's opener) but the ball drifts agonisingly wide (not similar to Fell's opener).

I was just beginning to sense the first shoots of recovery.  They were quickly dashed.  No sooner had I responded to a text from the absent Asst-Mgr asking the score with, "Three down"...than Cookson scored a fourth.  Half-time, game over.

I didn't know what to think when Mack strode out alone some five minutes before the end of the interval.  I wondered - while munching my way through a very tasty double cheeseburger (£1.50 and very nice too) - whether to ask.  I did.  "

Should I be fearing the worst by your absence from the dressing room Dave?"

"No, not really.  I've said my piece and left them to say theirs."

"Ah. How's Mozzer?" (He'd taken a bang just before the break)

"Well he was fit enough to nearly rip Charlie's head off in there..."

"Ah!"

As probably was expected (we've been here before!) in truth the second half never really took off.  Thorne were content to sit on their lead and we didn't really have the nouse to break them down.

Until that is, the introduction of Fitzy and Chav who immediately set ouot as they had a point to prove.  And both scored.  Which was nice.  Only Thorne decided to do like-for-like.  Which wasn't.

We lost 2-6.  And to make matters worse, injuries had forced the hosts to play out the last ten minutes a man down.  We drew those ten minutes 2-2.

My mood had improved slightly by the sight of a "Traditional Cask Ales" sign on the front of post-match venue The Moorends Hotel.  It was a false dawn.

"Win or lose..."

John Smith Smooth was the only "ale" on sale.  Still the post-match fodder wasn't a bad consolation prize - a slab of beef along with chips, sausages, pork pie, sausage rolls.  Very nice indeed.

I enjoyed another brief chin-wag with Paul before re-boarding the minibus for what would prove to be one of the shorter - and quieter - trips home.

I don't know why...

Cutting off the Main supply

Saturday 26th March - Yorkshire Main (home) Won 1-0

Sundays after an Easington win the previous day are always enjoyable, no matter what's on the agenda.  Yes, I am that shallow.

And so there was a certain spring in the step as I proceeded to hang out the previous day's team kit the morning after our 3-2 win at Phoenix.  I stopped short of putting them in numerical order but still managed to  get a front, back, front sort-of-pattern going on.  An early sign of OCD perhaps.

Then it was time for the first grass cut of the year.  Usually I find this an odious task.  And that's just retrieving the Hover from behind all the other kelt stored away in the shed for winter...not to mention the significant evidence of the presence of mice over the past few months.  But having got the machine workign again, today I positively slalomed around the various obstacles of garden swing, clothes line prop etc., whistling a merry tune as I did so.
The final part of the day's itineray was preparing Sunday lunch.  With the sun beaming down from a clear blue sky there was only one option to go with - Lemon & Herb chicken served with Mediterranean veg and roasties.  I cooked this to the accompaniment of the Hurts album.  Ah, life's good sometimes.
BBC Radio 5 Live covered the RL Challenge Cup draw live that afternoon.  I missed it but caught news of Rovers' away tie at York City Knights via Twitter.  Given the current on-field problems, they'll take that.
Sunday evenings are now reserved for Holderness-based Hull City fan Matthew Rudd's 80s show on Q Radio and tonight's selection was again top drawer, setting me up nicely for "Waking The Dead" whose villainous character, The Bag Man, was of the type that could have come straight off an album by The Meteors - one of the bands I followed during the Thatcher years.  Forerunners of the so-called Psychobilly movement, their songs  tended not to stray far from all things macabre.  If only their nearest thing to "commercialism", their 1983 cover of John Leyton's "Johnny Remember Me"  (UK Indie No.2) had actually managed to pierce the Top 40 (it reached No.66), Mr Rudd may well have been treating me to this of a Sunday evening.

Not "The Bag Man" but a "big man" all the same

Monday and another week of continuing uncertainty about the future at work was offset by the prospect of the Annual Staff Bash on Friday at The Village Hotel.  A free bar and subsidised room meant a welcome mini-break for Mrs Slush and me.  Something to look forward to.
In the meantime I had the prospect of four cracking looking quarter-finals in the Cricket World Cup to help pass the days, with the Australia-India clash looking a particularly tasty one.
I finished the day with our latest Development Group meeting.  Held at The Haven Arms, it was expected to be a slightly tense affair with more fallout from a weekend of player shortages at Reserves and Casuals level high on the agenda.

Surprisingly, however, it turned into a very constructive and productive evening (aided by a pint of Tom Wood's Best and half a Tring Side Pocket For A Toad) and again restored my belief that the future of The Eastenders is in good hands.

In amongst the topics discussed were the usual ones of coaching courses, sponsorship and future fundraising events in addition to the obvious team matters.  As part of the talks about sponsored events, a walk similar to the "Million Metre Meander" of 2009 proved the preferred choice - despite the "toll" it took on us last time.  The exact route is still to be determined but another stretch of The Wolds Way looks the favourite.

Tuesday started with a bang, or rather a scratch, as the Elder Slushette and her younger sister had a disagreement over a notepad which ended in painful fashion for Junior.  She was still crying as I left for work and the situation proved serious enough for Mrs Slush to fix up an appointment at the local surgery.  Sure enough, she'd scratched her eyeball and a course of drops was prescribed; the first of which brought howls akin to a torture chamber when we tried administering them later that day.  It was like a domino effect - the Younger Slushette screaming at the prospect of the drops, her older sister screaming at her sibling's discomfort and Mum coming out in sympathy.  I had it all on to maintain a stiff upper I can tell you.

That same day had seen an astonishing West Indies batting collapse gift Pakistan a place in the last four of the Cricket World Cup.  Oh, and George Osborne's much-anticipated Budget.  I really don't know why I listen to these supposedly "defining" moments in Parliamentary history, as I always find myself wondering for hours/days/weeks/months afterwards what the hell it means to me.  Traditionally, I've just about worked it out by the time the next one comes round.

More important than the Budget of course was that night's meeting of CML Premier Division leaders South Normanton and title favourites Yorkshire Main under the Lees Lane lights.  I followed events by virtue of @BeatTheFirstMan's Twitter updates and it sounded a belter - Main leading 2-0, then trailing 3-2 before eventually running out 5-3 winners.  I hoped it had taken plenty out of them ahead of their weekend trip to the coast.

I spent much of Thursday (programme printing day in this shortened week) in the company of "Sir" Geoffrey Boycott and Alison Mitchell along with the rest of the 5 Live Sports Extra crew bringing commentary from a raucous Ahmedabad on the Aussies' match-up with the hosts.

As a fan of the "greatest living Yorkshireman" (I was brought up being told regularly at the dinner table: "Love Geoff Boycott and eat your greens") it's always a touch nerve-wracking listening to Boycs when he's in the company of female journos.  It often reminds me of Harry Enfield's George Whitebread character.  Some of his morning exchanges with 5 Live's Sheila Fogarty have almost bordered on Keys & Gray in their tone.  

"I say what I like and I like what I bloody well say"

Indeed, only that morning his response to news of Michael Yardy's decision to fly home from the sub-continent due to depression had already sparked several calls to the BBC and would provoke a blast from England captain Andrew Strauss.  I don't know why.  As one fellow Tweeter (the estimable @JR_Tiger) later paraphrased them: "Long story short: Boycs never suffered with depression because he was a good player and Yardy isn't."  Truth hurts?!

Thankfully, Geoffrey's subsequent performance in the commentary box was almost gaffe-free, although when he told Mitchell, "I could watch a few of my centuries..." one could almost sense her relief that he didn't then offer to talk her through them!

In the event India progressed with victory in a cracking match that was followed a few days later by Ricky Ponting's resignation as Australia captain.  The end of an era.

Friday began with the Younger Slushette's return visit to hospital where she was told her eye had healed up sufficiently to require no further treatment.  And so she was quickly softened up with a sausage sarnie at the fantastic Amy's Tea Shop in Patrington before being dropped off at her Gran's in time to allow Mrs Slush and I to make full use of our child-free pass.

In Amy's I exchanged a few observations on life with Derek Spruce, one-time goalkeeper and stalwart of Patrington Cricket Club, the 2010 East Yorkshire Premier Diviiosn champions.  Derek - whose son Steve is a former Easington keeper and current "top" local referee (in case he's reading this!) - is always good for a line or two.  Sitting almost as if holding court at a table facing towards the door allowed him to greet every new face in this busy little cafe.  "Ey up, bloody foreigners coming in now" he exclaimed as a party of four "Wezzies" came through the door ("Wezzies" being the term reserved from the numerous inhabitants of the West Riding who have decided to make the east coast their home.  Another is "Comforts" - from the saying, "Come for t'week, never went back").  "Is thoo lost?" he asked.  They smiled politely.

The perfect place for a pick-me-up...whereve you're from

After a detour to upgrade my mobile phone, we were at The Village for mid-afternoon and able to have decent use of the pool, sauna and steam room until it was time for the night's festivities.

Despite some awful mock-Swedish accents undermining what was otherwise a proficient Abba tribute act, the works bash was a cracking "do".  It was made complete for me when the DJ, who only a few weeks earlier had failed to produce Johnny Bristol's Hang On In There Baby for the so-called "70s & 80s Boogie Night", did just that this time around.  Pure quality.  Unfortunately, the sight - and smell - of some woman throwing up the full contents of her three-course meal and free bar excesses over a nearby table ensured Mrs Slush was as far away as possible instead of accompanying me to the floor.  No matter. I was "really dancing". 

And so once again to match day.  I drove home mid-Saturday morning (remarkably hangover-free) to the accompaniment of a slow but seemingly steady England batting performance against Sri Lanka in the last of the quarter-finals.  Little did I know what was to follow.

The Slushettes rounded-up from their various overnight stop-overs and all things sorted at home, I arrived at Low Farm to be greeted by a gentleman who immediately enquired of me as to the kick-off time.  When I told him three o'clock his face dropped.  He then let me know in no uncertain terms that he'd been misled that morning when phoning "a member of the club" who'd assured him the kick-off time was an hour earlier.  Oh dear.  Time for one of Judy's famous cuppa's to alleviate the situation I thought.  (It obviously worked - the gentleman being Leo Hoenig and this is his account of his day by the seaside).

A splash of colour at The Farm

Yorkshire Main arrived at the Farm well-placed for a tilt at the title but with a serious fixture backlog building up thanks to continuing interest in four competitions.  Althugh 19pts behind leaders South Normanton, the Edlington side have nine games in hand.  In addition they were due to appear in the final of the Floodlit Cup the following Wednesday and were also through to the quarter-finals of the Doncaster FA Cup and last four of the CML Challenge Cup.  Beat that Man Utd!

Before kick-off I enjoyed a catch-up with Main's young chairman, Matthew Wynne.  He readily acknowledged the fact that to maintain such high standards would be difficult as the games piled up.  

That said, the visitors don't half boast some firepower to help see them through. Their five goals at Lees Lane had taken their league tally to 72 in 14 games (110 in all competitions); with Curtis Walker (30), Darren Bird (15) and Adam Watson (15) netting over half of them between them.  

So the scene was set for the type of Easington performance I've witnessed so many times over the past two decades - the backs-to-the-wall effort in which at times sheer bloody-mindedness sees you through.  Mike Wilson's team of the Nineties almost patented them.

Unfortunately a bitterly cold wind - allied to other televised attractions such as the Wales v England Euro 2012 Qualifier in Cardiff - kept the crowd down well below the hoped-for figure.  Those who missed out missed a cracker.

 

Oh flippin' eck!

Knowing that chances could be at a premium, it was therefore felt to be a possible defining moment when Blounty failed to convert Gav's early set-piece. 

Thankfully it wasn't to prove so.  Moments later neat approach play down the left, a touch of the old Gavin magic completely bamboozled full-back Tunney and from his left foot cross, Frosty arrived to head powerfully home.  13 minutes gone and we led 1-0.  

Before too long both Watson and Walker had had chances to reply; Watson being particularly unlucky to see his firecely struck volley come back off the bar.

But in the main (no pun intended) we coped well.  This was the team playing as Mack expected them to play every week.  But don't.

A Main man fouls the main man

The second half started with the visitors - resplendent in an all-orange strip of the sort worn by ourselves in the mid-1970s - passing up a great chance when Ryan Evans fired into the side netting with keeper Charlie for once helpless.  Would our luck be in today?

As time wore on we increasingly looked capable of adding a second on the counter.  And following Tunney's cynical foul on Frosty we very nearly did; the Skipper just not getting to Mozzer's driven free-kick.

You didn't really want to get your head on that!

As the minutes ticked by, the visitors' attemtps became more desperate.  Tunney's late header looped onto the bar.  We were living dangerously.  Referee Dexter found seven minutes' stoppage time from somewhere.  It wasn't to matter.  Main's supply had been well and truly cut off.  A sharp Frost had seen to that!

Action Photos courtesy of Burt Graham & Colin Brammer