Cod Almighty | Match Report

by Tony Butcher

25 July 2016

Here comes the summer

The summer's really here. It's time to come out and discover what fun is about: pickled peacocking on the prom. And don’t forget the Market Place heroes armed with antisocial insecurity. Away supporters. Ooh yeah, I remember those days now.

Town faded to grey in the dispiriting 4-2-3-1 deformation as follows: McKeown, Davies, Pearson, Gowling, Andrew, McAllister, Summerfield, Berrett, Vose, Chambers and Action Jackson. The substitutes were Warrington, Boyce, Disley, Bogle, Venney, Wright and Clifton. Oh hang on, wasn’t Jones hanging around too?

Away in the Osmond hordes of red-neck, red-faced red shirts filled every nook and cranny. What aday-tripper’s delight.

1st Half – one man on a lonely platform

The Bladesmen eventually kicked off, but you don’t want to hear about them. Pity, as they’re the only show in town.

Town. Err, approaching flimsy negative competence... until the Yorkists attacked. Pace, space and just look at his face, just look at his face. Sharp twisted and lemonaded Gowling. Poor old Josh, we all have our level, but at least he kept his spirits up.

Jackson sprinted and hinted, a lanky lithe lollopper that we’ll all like. But wasting his time with no-one around. Vose? Excuse me while I stifle a knowing chuckle. Berrett’s neat feet and clean fingernails flutter for moments.

Grey tips were tapped and the unblunt Blades broke with Davies mislaid. A dink beyond Pearson and Calvert-Lewin chested up and headed over the star-jumping Jamie Mack.

A crank down the Town left and Gowling dithered and diddled. Calvert-Lewin jimble-jambled away, lured McKeown and pulled back. Done swept against Pearson and Sharp noodled softly into the empty goal

Bladesmen wolf-packed Townites into errors and terrors and ruthlessly stripped Town bare. Another dink and break and another offside, fortunately, as Sharp passed through the veil and passed into the net. Other things happened, but what a grey day.

What about Town? It isn’t complex: immense inferiority.

2nd Half – two eyes staring cold and silent

Bogle replaced the diminutive, disappearing McAllister as Town moved to 4-4-2. A small cheerette emerged from the slumbering homesters.

Sheffield United were at least forced to defend frequently. Hey, some passing and movement! Davies crossed to the near post and Jackson almost snickled. Bogle boggled, toggled and wiggled his woggles. A few corners, a few throw-ins. And boom-boobly-bumtish, Summerfield swayed a swirler that dipped over the weirdly snoring keeper.

That’s all very well, but it just woke them up. Town’s midfield four did not exist. The redsters ran riot through the middle, breaking bad, making us sad, as Town’s defence was frizzled and frazzled bacon. Sharp hit the bar, Berrett cleared off the line and other things nearly happened, almost and often. A break into space and a cute channel caress between Gowling and a misplaced Davies. Sharp tangoed around McKeown and Pearson slidey-blocked the shot, but only back to the old iron. Sharp waited, watched and simply, calmly placed the shot into the bottom right corner. Like a professional.

They made loads and loads of substitutions. They carried on superiorising Town, exploring the spaces between attack and defence. You know, where the midfield is supposed to be.

Town made substitutions. It made no difference. Boyce and Wright replaced Pearson and Vose, ifyou want those precious things called facts.

Sheffield United were vastly superior. Town had occasional glimpses of something now and again.

Still, the pitch looks good