Halifax Town 3 – 2 Chasetown; 22/03/11.

Halifax Town 3 – 2 Chasetown; 22/03/11.

Some games really do remind me why I'm here in the first place. Some games only do this in the final minute of normal time. And some of these games look like nothing worth remembering would ever come from them until they're on the verge of waving all the effort, time and money you've dissipated over the years towards football games in front of you while laughing and pointing.

 Baker having a shot. He had a good game as per, but this one got immediately blocked.

There was nothing to report on in the first half of this game. As for shots there may have been one, maybe two, maybe a bit more than that, but nothing close to testing on either side. Just a void of non-football you'd more likely expect if you spent 15 hours of minimum wage money on 90 minutes at Stamford Bridge or Wastelands. The most interesting thing of the half was a mad old man shouting incomprehensibly from the top of the South Stand, and you see those types around Halifax all the time anyway.

Then, after a similar 45th–70th minute stretch, Ben Jevons made it by striking past his men and past Hedgey into the net. Chasetown were winning. Sadly, our play wasn't looking too good before or after this goal, or at least not so much until Vardy turned at speed during a goalmouth scramble to put the ball away. This was in the 84th minute, and it was this minute that the adrenaline started flowing through every last tissue in every Shayman's body. We brought up the choking clutch and sped off. We became a full attacking force, and shortly afterwards a Liam Hogan 35-yarder shot just over like a practising army pilot would skim a green hill at supersonic speed. And Vardy got his second: the classic 'keeper-off-his-line cross. The sound was unbelievable, and they echoed across the Shay right up until the rotund Gary Birch did precisely what Vardy had just done at the other end. It was the Chase faithful's turn to go crackers.

Lift your Shaymen fists like antennas to heaven.

And then. Following a few attempts to move forward by the Scholars, we managed to boot it up field. The ball inevitably got to Jamie Vardy amongst the hordes lining the outside of the Chasetown box. Vardy left three of their defenders standing in his effortless way and blasted it into the top fucking corner. 93 minutes in. A nine minute hat-trick. AFTER being chosen the man of the match. Nine minutes to change a match report I dreaded writing up into one that exhilarates me to write up.

That night, Doncaster Rovers offered £10k for the man who made the difference from this scoreline being 0–2 to it being 3–2. You can guess how we responded.

Halifax Town 3 – 2 Chasetown; att. 1353.

Entertainment: 0/10 for first 70, 10/10 for final 10.

Halifax Town 1 – 0 Ashton United; 05/03/11.

Halifax Town 1 – 0 Ashton United; 05/03/11.

 

So, we won a guest box in the Christmas draw. It was initially set for the Frickley and Nantwich dates, which were both called off. Luckily, there wasn't a single postponement to be found this weekend from step 1 right down to 6, which meant a trip for us up the East Stand and into a new astral plane full of that certain elite who work directly for the Shaymen or are the players themselves. We broke open some Hebden Bridge ale and watched from the best vantage points in the ground. To show how down with the oiks we are, lunch was Holland's pies, peas and chips. Taking the prawn sarnie ethos right down to the letter is one thing that mustn't be allowed.

 

Ashton was an appropriate one for us, as I've got Ashton blood. The blood doesn't run far enough however, for me to sympathise one bit with Ashton United, née Hurst FC, who were here purely for us to make another three points. Like a prudish data-processor being invited by his rowdy pals to a lap dancing club, Ashton made it their job to keep a draw for as long as possible, as the data-processor in this poor analogy would cover up his arousal. Yes, opposition teams have to cover up sheer carnal arousal when watching us play our game.

 

Phelan tries to find an option.

I say this with little regard for the tedium in the first half. I couldn't adjust to the fact I'd watched half a match worth of football when the half-time whistle went. What can be said? We have plenty of first halves like these. Footballer's block, I'd call it. We weren't threatened, but we lacked our own touch. The East Stand takes from the Skircoat stand opposite it and stands quiet spare the odd moan. Even our best touches only warrant applause from a select few there, most fans happy to keep their hands in their pockets, fiddling at all the fluff inside them. Garner had a stinker surprisingly, and got subbed halfway through. His easily-saved free kick was one of the few chances. The real chance of the half came near the end when Vardy had a blocked shot which the 'keeper then scuffed, leaving it almost free to Vardy again were it not for brave Ashton defending.

 

 

The second half obviously saw us pick up, so the Robins stepped up. Except their way of doing this was by putting nine players in their box. Tom Baker commented that as a centre midfielder he'd never been in a match like it, totally lacking in ideas for where to feed the ball. The fans' encouragement grew and a close chance came when Phelan circled the outside of the box for space, before whacking it for the goalie to put it out for a corner. Time fell through our open fingers though, and despite having most possession and keeping in their half, there weren't so many close chances. The tempo really picked up towards the end and after a few rapid attempts of finding blue shirts in the box, Hogan fired a rapid cross in which Vardy sprinted for, like a 100mph cheetah frustrated at still not being as fast as he would like to be breaking through his skin and entering a completely new spiritual dimension. Joy resonated across Halifax, the players rushed into one corner of the pitch with glee, and the nine Ashton players acting as defense saw their plans gutted.

 

 

Various attacks.

The Robins had almost got their draw, but now they'd let one goal in with 89 minutes on the clock, there was little hope. Their game plan had been lacerated. Two strikers came on for them and mustered a feeble attack, before we attempted a counter attack in return. With little time added on, the ref blew and I was buzzing. Not since the FC United games have goals felt as good. We didn't "nick" it so much as deserve it, and making it 1–0 late on lifted everyone's confidence.

Post-match I found that Bury had won 3–0 at Hereford, putting the Shakers second. We got a programme signed too, though Scott Phelan's signature is highly disturbing: a few squiggles around his name. Can he even write? At least he can play.

Halifax Town 1 – 0 Ashton United; att. 1648
Entertainment: 2/10 first half, 8/10 second.

Bradford (Park Avenue) 1 – 3 Halifax Town; 24/01/11.

Bradford (Park Avenue) 1 – 3 Halifax Town; 24/01/11.

 

 This morning we'll be singing 1. All Things Bright and Beautiful, 421. He's Got the Whole World in His Hands and 341. He Who Would Valiant Be.

When interviewed on the Shaymen Player interviewed Neil Aspin after our 8–1 win against Ossett, the first thing he let be known was his "mixed feelings." Our manager felt dissatisfied after recording Halifax Town's best ever league win in 100 years.

Great!

The Park Ave game was originally intended for a Saturday at the end of November, and I remember fetching my bike late the night before to find it covered in snow. The match wasn't to be, and this meant a lower crowd, though still an encouraging 1000 or so Shaymen. What was worse was the temperature, which throughout winter looks a bit like this on a log (Kelvin) temperature scale:

Click to enlarge.

This made it rather difficult to focus on the match as the molecules comprising my body lost their identity and begun to behave as waves, whose patterns quickly begun to overlap each other at a frantic rate. Besides which, the most impressive-looking stand in the league (besides ours) is a let-down when you get there.

The queue was long but the tea ladies kept it moving, though despite their efforts we missed the first few minutes and therefore Vardy's goal! It was close to worth it for the best chips in the league: the sort of splendour you get in good pubs. Our first seating position is towards the bottom of the stand but as high as we can get due to it being packed, and literally half the pitch is obscured by the dugouts. The meal had to be finished quickly, and stood to the top side of the covered stand a better view was found, still obscured by the stand poles and fairly dim floodlights.

The game was a hard watch for most of us because of how hard it was to play. Rain came a few times and the wind was the most powerful I've experienced in the Tin Pot. This ensured our corners would blow out of play most of the time, though is less a disadvantage when it's going your way. Holland fired a ball at the keeper (a master at fumbling the ball), and it flew almost vertically in the air. As Deano anticipated it coming down, it bounced off the ground and 45º into the top of the net! Its dynamics were closer to a rugby ball. The goal was hilarious and worth the asking price of the match.

We realised that Avenue had actually done an alright job in the second half, because running into the wind billowing from the Buttershaw Estate side of the ground was all but took the footballing experience away. They worked the wind well with their first corner. The ball passed the line for about a nanosecond. The lino and ref disagreed on the decision and most of the players joined in the goal dispute. One of them put it that it's physically impossible for Bradford Park Avenue to score a goal, seeing as they failed to score against Retford earlier this season. The other must have followed the cheers from the stands. Of course, this being the seventh tier of English football, nothing was done objectively. I kid, they rightfully halved our lead. 1–2, and with 40 more minutes of dealing with an impeding wind.

 Top tribute to a top fan. Click to enlarge.

Distance from the net when being behind the goal renders it impossible to properly abuse the 'keeper.

Besides the rugby-like movements of the ball, this signalled the turning point where players started engaging in furious rough 'n tumbles: egg chasing, Super League stylée. Vardy's pulled back in their box and we receive a penalty, thank god. It'd be extremely hard for any team to find the net when the wind would change the most blistering shot into an over-hit dribble. Our man Tom Baker buried it into the middle-right of the net, and the two-goal lead was restored.

This blog prides itself in professionalism, but sometimes I take a picture instead of filming and vice versa.

Dissatisfaction with the ref in both camps increases when Scott Phelan rides two dirty tackles followed by another, a hideous two-footer from Avenue's number 3. You can see his arms wave in protest after the first tackle, so it's no surprise that he appeared to retaliate when the number 3 floored him, and this turned into a four-man pile-on. With the fans chanting "OFF!" at the number 3, the ref misconstrued this and sent off Phelan. Wa-hey! Their player/assistant manager picks up on his team-mate's criminal offense, and lays in with a two-footed tackle of his own. Ever an example to the team he dictates, he's sent to the dressing room.

It's fair to say the sides don't like each other anymore. Our best change comes with a long-range shot that the 'keeper, naturally, fumbles, and there was even room for Hedge to spill a ball towards the end of the match too. The ball flew about on its own accord like a cheap fly-away and to some relief of watching a game bereft of many true highlights, the final whistle came. We're now 12 points clear,  21 goals clear and have scored 14 in the last three games. Seasons are never all the same, but our league seems unassailable. We're definitely starting to eye up opposition in the Blue Square North now, like a lad would eye up prettier lasses after finding that his acne has cleared up.

Bradford (Park Avenue) 1 – 3 Halifax Town; att. 1325

Ground: 6/10

Pitch: 6/10
Programme: N/A
Talent: N/A
Chips: 9/10 (succ-u-lent)

Non-partisan entertainment: 5/10

FC United of Manchester 0 – 1 Halifax Town; 11/12/10.

FC United of Manchester 0 – 1 Halifax Town; 11/12/10.

It's a freezing Wednesday night at Gigg Lane and Football Club United of Manchester are playing the biggest game in their short history. They are contending with Brighton and Hove Albion in a replay of the second round of the FA Cup, having drawn at their place. Each opportunity in this cup is another cup final. Through the flares and dark cold a large banner billows as much as it can when its four corners are pinned to a barrier. "Making Friends Not Millionaires" is the maxim.

If FC United made millionaires in the way they make friends then they'd be staring liquidation in the face.

Us at FC Halifax Town have been rubbing our hands together for this one. Let's put it coyly: this isn't because we both have support that outnumbers all others in the league. Nah, we're just excited to have a game on after three weeks. With Aspin giving the boys a lot of running exercises at training as pitches in the Northern Premier League freeze over, maybe they want to do something more interactive also.

It's been another magical FA Cup run for a handful of clubs. Tipton Town took on Carlisle after getting through six rounds. Hythe Town likewise, bowing out to Hereford. Havant & Waterlooville got another good FA Cup deal for their money before falling to Droylsden, who threw away a 2–0 lead at Leyton Orient, the O's coming back in extra-time to net eight. Droylsden are one of the most central teams in Manchester, though not many professed City or United fans would recognise their name.

 

FC United did remarkably well, too. They got through five rounds. Even more remarkably still perhaps, they eclipsed all other tales of heady FA Cup dreams. They're out of it now of course after losing 4–0 on Wednesday, but they're not yet out of the relegation zones. A commentator during the Brighton game explained this may be down to "their style being unsuited for the Northern League." That's a bit like saying Ann Widdecombe isn't suited for the sexuality of the modern man.

The relation is this: Halifax Town never had a choice when we lost everything. With opaque staffing and declining performances we could only sit and spectate. The borough of Calderdale wasn't behind its club and still is antipathetic for the most part, so even when we rose from the ashes, a supporter-owned club was out of the question. We're lucky to have the most open management in years. We're lucky to have a large stadium that stands tall and in decent nick for one of the first times ever. And we're lucky to have a team and management team that put the time and effort into the club that we as fans do. So in this match, the biggest in the non-league this weekend, FC United were playing a team of similar support. That's what the neutrals came for still, but they stayed for the FC United story. On the other side of the halfway line stands a team representing a club once known as the worst in the league, and there isn't a team in this league who don't fear us as opposition. For those actually involved in the Evo-Stik Premier, we're the ones to watch. Rightly so, as even FC United, who despite achy legs put in one of their big efforts, failed to match up to a Town line-up, our excuses plentiful but aside.

Over to more pressing matters, an entourage of Shaymen rocketed over the Pennines for a bit of fun. Sources over here put it at 750, sources over there put it at 937, but for however many it was we were raring for another league game. Singing as we approached the turnstiles helped too. I gave the fella with the programmes £2 for a neatly laid-out but thin issue that could be devoured within five minutes with great respects to their community efforts. It should be noted that fans like him were cheerful and chatty. As many top FC United fans there are about, they're sadly eclipsed by the endlessly cocky and hostile sub-Leeds United nutters who soil a great (not far from perfect!) concept for club management. Notable in the programme is the charitable heart it places in of Greater Manchester. Our club isn't far off in this respect at all, but it creates FC United as a social conscience. I'd wager those who perspire for the club and its community work and those who make this a reason to be arrogant scumbags are two completely separate factions. All the best to the programme guys and the FC United fan who extended himself to offering me a lift for this game, and may they inherit their club over the worst sorts. True fans: masses of warm, firm handshakes and luck wishes.

 

FC United came out from the changing rooms as a nasty shock, and a departure from the eleven dry farts I saw at the Horsfall Stadium a few months ago. They forced an attack early on with a narrow miss, and missed out on a fuzzy penalty call as Liam Hogan and their Carlos Roca nearly collided. This was more like the FC United I saw on Sky against Rochdale and Brighton. They were up for it, but when they weren't attacking we were. Guaranteed. Garner laid on very nicely for Deano who skied it at close range a few minutes later. Following on from that, Scott Phelan hit the post. If the times Phelan hit the post and the times he scored were proportional to the area of the posts and the net itself, goalposts would be about two metres wide. He'll get them in soon enough.

Not the best but not the most worrisome showing for us in the first half, then. As Deano went off injured, a bit more bite came into our attack. Just as I remembered the words I'd been given: "FC United cannot deal with crosses into the box," Metcalfe did just that. The ultimate finishing move for a goalie is a deflection of a quick ball which came courtesy of Garner's head, and the ball sizzled in the right corner. The Cemetery End erupted and carried on at such a volume for a good while.

 

One goal's never enough though, especially in lower-league football. The ensuing 40 minutes were some of the most tense I've seen, and across the stand our very frequent chanting interchanged with much chewing of fingernails. We forced more attacks, but when we weren't setting some up they were. Their problems were getting caught offside too often and damn target practice. Ours were . . . target practice, I guess. Sometimes we're great at it, sometimes we're desperate. For a team susceptible to attacks on the wing we didn't do that all too often but if Vardy finished all his one-on-ones he'd be bringing the match ball home for sure. If it weren't 0–1, it'd be 3–4.

The final whistle blew, and three points were counted for the Shaymen, now six points in the lead. If Worksop win their games in hand they would be three points behind us. Beside which, we're simply admiring the view.

FC United of Manchester 0 – 1 Halifax Town; att. 2805

Programme: 5/10
Talent: one stewardess; a Town fan returned to get "searched" by her again

Non-partisan entertainment: 8/10  

Independent review