Holwell Sports 0 Radcliffe Olympic 2
East Midlands Counties League
A day that started out optimistic, descended in to blind panic, recovered to serenity, and ended with me shouting at Martin Keown.
The sensation of opening your wallet and seeing a space where your cashcard should be is not the best way to start your day. Still don't know where it is, but the lovely lady in the Stamford branch of Santender could at least tell me that it hasn't been used. Which basically makes me the dufus who lost it.
That sorted, it was off to the Lincs Fine Food Fayre at Burleigh Hall. It was rubbish. But I got some nice sausages. And the ostrich burger was walked off courtesy of a nice stroll round Rutland Water. All in all a pleasant counterbalance to the start of the day, so all wasn't lost.
And then to Holwell Sports, on the outskirts of Melton Mowbray. Fans of the BTFM physique will be disappointed I didn't take advantage of the town's most famous export.
Holwell's website tells the following tale of the club's history:
Holwell works was part of The Stanton Iron Works Company and the club badge comes from the old works symbol. The horse with an arrow through its chest is the crest of the Crompton's an important Derby family of bankers whose involvement with Stanton Ironworks, dating from 1855 lasted for more than 80 years.
The crest symbolises the death of horse power and the emergence of electricity power generation.
Which doesn't really tell us much. So let me put some flesh on the bones. It's a lovely part of the world, albeit a triffle exposed (he typed through still defrosting fingers) But the structure is there for promotion, and the footprint available for expansion. Coupled with a not inconsiderable support for this level of football (including some not-there-for-mischief kids) they could well be a name you'll hear more of in the future.
But that's as good as it gets. As is the risk at this time of the season, both teams went in to this game with absolutely nothing to play for. And it showed. Radcliffe were the better side, and fully deserved their 2-0 win. Albeit that both came from penalties late in the game. But whilst neither team really seemed to fancy it, the Radcliffe number 9, who may or may not have been Will Massingham, was head and shoulders the least interested of the bunch. That he sported shiny white boots, and a hair band, did little to convince this onlooker that he was anything other than a Big Time Charlie.
Elsewhere, his team mates looked busier, and marginally more iinterested. But this was a battle of degrees.
Which is probably why I don't write the scripts for the wrestling anymore.
That would be about the sum of things, were it not for the fact that somehow, between leaving the ground and Man Utd kicking off at half five, some idiot gave a radio microphone to Martin Keown. Honest to God, what is going on there?
The sensation of opening your wallet and seeing a space where your cashcard should be is not the best way to start your day. Still don't know where it is, but the lovely lady in the Stamford branch of Santender could at least tell me that it hasn't been used. Which basically makes me the dufus who lost it.
 |
| The calm after the storm |
And then to Holwell Sports, on the outskirts of Melton Mowbray. Fans of the BTFM physique will be disappointed I didn't take advantage of the town's most famous export.
Holwell works was part of The Stanton Iron Works Company and the club badge comes from the old works symbol. The horse with an arrow through its chest is the crest of the Crompton's an important Derby family of bankers whose involvement with Stanton Ironworks, dating from 1855 lasted for more than 80 years.
The crest symbolises the death of horse power and the emergence of electricity power generation.
Which doesn't really tell us much. So let me put some flesh on the bones. It's a lovely part of the world, albeit a triffle exposed (he typed through still defrosting fingers) But the structure is there for promotion, and the footprint available for expansion. Coupled with a not inconsiderable support for this level of football (including some not-there-for-mischief kids) they could well be a name you'll hear more of in the future.
 |
| Simon said what? |
Elsewhere, his team mates looked busier, and marginally more iinterested. But this was a battle of degrees.
 |
| Keeper tries his new "Camoflauge for Beginners" kit |
Second half, my enjoyment was tempered somewhat by the arrival of a home fan with a Liverpudlian accent, who clearly had the interests of Holwell's number seven close to his heart, as he encouraged every effort with shouts, and clapping that went on for one or two more rounds than was necessary. It's the little things that drive people to kill. When the 7 got frustrated and started clattering the oppossing centre halves, they were heard to take exception to his presence. At which point the chap claimed he would damage anyone who dared try to hurt the lad. Have to say, had it come to it, my money would have been on the muddy bloke in the football kit. What with him being half the spectators age, athletic, and having a shaved head.
Which is probably why I don't write the scripts for the wrestling anymore.
That would be about the sum of things, were it not for the fact that somehow, between leaving the ground and Man Utd kicking off at half five, some idiot gave a radio microphone to Martin Keown. Honest to God, what is going on there?
0 comments:
Post a Comment