The One With A Film Star

FC Halifax Town 4 Lancaster City 0

Unibond Division One North

The last time I watched a team play Halifax Town, I saw Barnet claim the Conference title. Five years ago. Since then Barnet have arguably punched above their weight in the Football League, whilst Halifax have imploded, died, been re-born and failed to reappear on most people's footballing radar.

Yesterday, those folks who spend too long looking at league statistics, and not enough time speaking to people of the opposite sex (women, in the main, let's be honest) would have most definitely noticed FC Halifax Town.

For one thing, there were in excess of three thousand people at The Shay. A number that surpassed all bar four in the Second Division, and which was on a par with five games in the First Division. Not bad for a team playing in the Unibond Division One North, four rungs below the Football League.

And for another, The Shaymen absolutely annihilated their table-topping opposition. All season long it has been a battle between these two, and yesterday it seemed Halifax dealt their opposition a fatal blow.

The last time I saw Lancaster City play, they were also top of the table, they also played awfully, and they also lost. Is it me?

Halifax played expansive, flowing football, anchored by a coleuses at number 5, and spearheaded by a titan at number 9. Between them, they squashed Lancaster at every turn. City had no idea what was happening to them, and their management no idea how to counter it.

One down within five minutes, Lancaster's plan of taking a point was scuppered before they had even settled down. The vocal fan base cheered every pass, backed every tackle. No one was going to ruin this day for them. Least of all some pesky upstarts from Lancashire.

Were I am Lancaster fan, I would absolutely furious with the management of my team. In this spectators opinion, it was their intransigence that cost City any chance they may have had. One short man up front was not going to win any header against the aforementioned coleuses. The wide men backing him up were largely anonymous, save for a pair of fancy-dan boots. And the absence of any midfielders pushing through meant Town could repel at leisure.

Lazy blogging at it's very worst

At the other end, the absence of attacking thoughts from the backline should have lead to a resiliant defence. But that would be to bet without Halifax's number 9, a man by the not inconsiderable name of James Dean. Single-handedly, he bullied, bruised and baffled the Lancaster backline until he was pulled off as a mercy call by the Halifax bench. Everything that Emile Hesky doesn't do as targetman, Dean did. He won, he held, he involved. Oh, and he scored. I don't have the words, simply.

But nothing was changed until half time, by which point City were two down, and pretty much dead in the water. 4-1-4-1 became 4-4-2, and nothing really changed. Yes they threatened the home goal a little more, even daring to have a goalmouth scramble before conceding the third. But in truth Lancaster were more off the pace than this little fella



Halifax fans have been talking their team up all season long, but it has often been dismissed as nothing more than hyperbole and bravado. Yesterday, Halifax Town were as good as, if not better, then their fans' words.

By the way, apologies for the paucity of pictures. I was reliant on my phone, and not really suitably placed. Unless, of course, you had an accordion, eh Plinny?