Blazing Smoke Town

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Blazing Smoke Town

Post  Boz1964 on Tue Aug 09, 2016 5:10 pm

Blazing Smoke Town

They came from the Shire, the Lords of the Ring-roads, all clad in blue for a three hour journey from deepest darkest Basingstoke.

Feeling coach sick from driving on straight roads, they stopped at the Seventh Wonder of the Modern Football World - the Load-Lok Stadium and enquired as to the location of the 'rest rooms'.

Now I have heard of coloured dye being added to swimming pool water to indicate urine, but whoever was responsible for that blast of blue smoke from the Theatre End terrace needs to go and visit their local doctor and get their catalytic converter checked pronto.

There may have only been around 20 or blue smurfs who made the long journey West , but their young team cannot complain about the support they got from these stalwarts.

They were louder than a Christopher Biggins shirt at a Pig Brother Bar Mitzvah and more vocal than a Milli Vanilli tribute act.

On the field, the away side started at a frenetic pace, closing the space, defending from the front and squeezing the ball- which as all home fans know is a recipe for disaster- as the 3G pitch knocks the stuffing out of teams and come the 70th minute, they have less energy left than a non- Duracell bunny.

Merthyr on the other hand, with a huge home advantage, were busy luring the Basingstoke flies into their world wide Webley, gradually forcing the young Hobbits back into their roundabout shaped dug-outs and penalty box putting them on their back hairy foot.

The inter-passing on the right wing between Ian Traylor, Keyon Refell and Adam Davies was like a conveyor belt of quality, as time after time' one of the tremendous trio beat their full back only to fail to find a swinging black n white boot to connect to.

To their credit, the very young Basingstoke professionals, defended like three lions with their number 3 and 5 prominent, fighting tooth and nail to stop the Home side from going in front.

They had my Simba-thy.

It was only their 'pride' and youthful energy that kept 'the Stoke' level for the first third of a game of two halves.

Up front, Kayne McGlaggon was winning headers he shouldn't have got close even to, as he battled hard with their much taller number 6, Matt Partridge.

True -'Partridges' are game birds - but they are not especially renowned for their aerial ability and at times Kaynomite seemed to be using unlawful leverage for his flick-ons, as it appeared Christmas had come early for the 'Leaping Lord' McGlaggon.

It kept the officials busy on the sidelines, as the Bristolian Men in Black, Tommy Lee Jones & Will Smith had to root out who was 'fouling' who, as the Basingstoke defence got their body positioning correct, drawing a lot of free kicks in and around what were danger areas and easing the pressure on the Away Side.

Having been relegated last season, you could see that Basingstoke had established a 'hobbit' of going down easily.

If there was one criticism of the Martyrs first half performance, it was that they seemed a little shot shy.

They needed someone with his finger on the button, someone not frightened to shoot when under pressure.

They needed a Donald Trump- like figure - and guess who stepped forward ?

None other than our latest recruit -Scott Barrow.

He picked up the ball mid-way inside the opposition half and let fly a Scott shot which beat their keeper Alex Tokarczyk all ends up for a one - nil lead.

In fairness, he was Barrowly wide seconds earlier with a nuclear pile- driver with the warning signs on the Aldermaston 'slip road' flashing for the Away last 'ditch' defence.

Now Basingstoke Town may be known for its 'Soccer AM' stadium but the 'Football PM' came from the free- flowing Martyrs, as our passing game took over, as Merthyr began to dominate the game - Lok n Load and Two Smoking Barrows.

To the credit of the young Stokers, there was plenty of blue flare both on and off the pitch, their number 11 looked accomplished and tried to run the show in midfield but youth is one thing but it is no match for the tenacity of a Welsh Terrier.

I hope the new 'Darling Buds of May' Government don't amend the 'Dangerous Dogs Act' like they threaten to do or the Club may have to fork out for a muzzle for our Dog of War, Ashley Evans.

Despite taking a knock on the shins that would floor Oscar Pistorius, he went off for a short time only to return to his usual tough tackling self.

It is so funny to watch how the mid-field magician not only comes away with the ball but usually both bootlaces of the opposition in one movement.

Half time came and went with Merthyr desperate to get that second 'killer' goal which would secure the three points.

In the second half, Basingstoke had an early chance to level which their Manager knew would be decisive- something to hang onto - to change the pattern of game- but the chance went a begging.

By the time Traylor had added the second, the pressure on the knobbly- kneed assistant took its toll and he gave up berating the referee and sat back in his dugout waiting for the inevitable scoreline change.

It didn't take long before a farcical own goal had the difficult-to-spell goalkeeper, Tokarczyk 'scrabbling' towards and into his own net, with Alan 'Salty' Jones the only person word perfect with his Radio Norwich commentary.

By the time free-scoring winger Traylor had added a fourth- it was just a question of damage limitation for the Hampshirites.

The twilight zone at Penydarren Park revealed a skyline of rejuvenated Oak Trees who paid silent witness to another ruthless 4-0 wining performance from SuperGav's Martyrs.

With only our own 'Ash' made of harder wood.

From the brave smother-saving of Goalie Garner - through 2-11 and our gallant substitutes - Merthyr are playing football again with a smile instead of a scowl.

A pat on the head for Scott Barrow from our Manager rather than a 'Hammer Blow' illustrates the new wind of change and style that has blown through the new turnstiles.

Four points, unbeaten and four goals for.

Even the 'Supporter'Hand' AART work sculpture that adorns our foyer clapped the players and Management off the pitch.

And rightly so too.



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