Storm Dennis is a Grecian

Jen Kelly – a.k.a. Cheshire’s Revenge / The Word Nerd – brings ilovemacc her own take on the highs and lows of The Silkmen

Part of supporting a lower league club is dealing with the elements. Rain or shine, wind or snow, it’s our duty as fans to be there in all weather.

And sometimes getting a soaking is completely worth it when you’re witness to a stunning comeback, or maybe a wonder goal that you have to see to believe.

And other times, getting soaked to the skin feels like someone is rubbing salt and vinegar into your already really painful wounds.

Another week, another moral dilemma….must be Macc

I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m getting so sick of having the regular internal debate about whether I’m going to go to a home game or not. It really shouldn’t be that hard; I support them so I’ll go. But yet again I found myself in an external battle trying to decide whether to grace the LRT with my presence. The desire to support the players was again the deciding factor and therefore I began the usual pre-football ritual at 2.15pm on Saturday.

The ritual obviously varies dependent on what ridiculous weather is going on outside the front door. As we’re now in full-on storm season, I dug out my thickest socks, my big winter coat and all the hats and scarves I could find. Having to hang on to my steering wheel with both hands for fear of my little KA taking off as I drove down Gunco Lane was a good indicator for the afternoon ahead. If I was struggling to keep a car on the ground, how were the players supposed to fair with a bag of air?

Unsurprisingly there was very few people stomping up London Road as kick off approached. Combine the shitty weather with the even more shitty situation we’re in, and who can blame even the most hardened fan from finding something better to do at 3pm on a Saturday afternoon. As I joined the small ticket queue I had to smile, albeit wearily, at the two stewards lolling around the gate. 

Both stewards were obviously part of the new draft who are bused in from fields afar, and both seemed rather bemused at the scenes unfolding in front of them. Grinning at the queue, the larger of the two quipped “God you lot, cheer up why don’t you?!”. The smaller steward laughed and said “oh mate, leave them alone won’t you? They must be the most depressed fans in the football league!”

Yeah mate, you’re not wrong.

A tribute under dark skies

Before the game kicked off there was a well-observed minute of applause to honour the memory of Keith Peate, who had passed away a few days before. Keith was one of those people who I knew in passing; a face from the terraces and the pubs that I used to greet in passing. He was part of the original group of lads and lasses who were around the club when I was first allowed to go to away games back in the 90s. He was a normal bloke and the news of his death at such a young age was so sad to hear. (Click here to make a donation to his funeral costs and the wonderful East Cheshire Hospice).

As 1,300 gloved hands clapped around the ground in Keith’s memory, the skies looked dark and ominous. Everything pointed towards the weather being the dictating factor for the next 90 minutes, with the team who worked out how to deal with it being the one to come out on top. After our performance at windy Morecambe a few days earlier, my money was not on us.

New signing Ben Tollitt had made it straight into the side and looked lively from kick off. Another new face to the team, Donovan Wilson, was also getting involved in everything and looked like he could be the pest that we’ve been looking for up front. However, Exeter obviously decided they weren’t going to let the new boys settle in and knocked two goals in inside the first 20 minutes.

The first Exeter goal came from a combination of good Grecian movement and claggy Macc defending. Randell Williams, wearing the number 11 shirt for the visitors and managing to piss Fitz off with every attack, left our left-back in the mud with a surging run down the right. His ball in was strong and fast and needed dealing with. Our defence obviously agreed but had forgotten how that worked. As Cameron and Kelleher both slid for the same ball, Ajose was left with no-one near him to easily tap home for the visitors.

Exeter’s second came just 6 minutes later. A cross from the other side found Sweeney with space to look up, think about his shot and scratch his arse before connecting well to fire home. Once again our defence were a beat behind and once again the whole team were left staring at each other wondering what had just happened. Exeter were fully in charge, dealing with the swirly winds and whipping rain well and showing us just why they were pushing for automatic promotion.

Roll on the Pastry…

The moment the ball found the net for the second time, Kennedy beckoned to the bench for a sub. Replacing Wilson with Shilow Tracey (or, as my podcast pal Jon has already christened him, Filo Pastry) seemed an odd move, drawing suggestions of defensive tactics from the shivering bodies around me. Thankfully the sub was a good one, and Filo entered the game with refreshing energy and a plan to at least try to play the ball on the floor.

You’d think it would be obvious that when winds are high you keep the ball low. But we continued to pump the ball up field somewhat aimlessly in the general direction of the hard-working Ironside. We had the wind sort of behind us, which meant that the ball regularly bounced harmlessly over everyone’s heads into touch. When we did play to feet we had marginally more success, but our efforts always seemed to end in an easy dispossession or a shoddy wayward pass.

We won a free kick just back from the half way line five minutes before the break, which keeper Mitchell stepped up to take. Aiming in the general direction of the penalty spot, the ball hit an Exeter player and bounced into the path of Kirby on the right. His knee seemed to be in the right place, and the ball pinged off him into the back of the net. The celebration was fairly muted, with Kirby quietly punching the air while everyone jogged back to the centre circle. Perhaps we knew it’d been a bit of a fluke, or perhaps we knew there was still a long way to go. Whatever it was, it was at least a lifeline.

As the rain poured down during the break, we debated whether the game was winnable. The last 10 minutes or so of the first half had been much better but there was still much pessimism floating through the air. Fitz and Cameron had both looked well off the mark throughout the first half, and there was no-one on the pitch who seemed to fancy a shot. As the players came back out we noticed the absence of our likeable left back, replaced at the break by Archibald. Did this mean Kennedy was going for the win?

Half way to a team ‘Nursery Rhyme’…

The hat-trick is a well known phrase in football, albeit not one that is uttered very often on the Moss Rose terraces. There is also the ‘perfect’ hat-trick, where a player scores his three with his head, left foot and right foot. The ‘haul’ is slightly less used, but is the official term for when a player scores four times in one game. But do any of you know what a ‘nursery rhyme haul’ is? I’m guessing not, as I’ve just made it up!

A ‘nursery rhyme haul’ is when four goals are scored. One with a head, one with a shoulder, one with a knee and one with a toe. Get it?! I can’t comment on how often this happens in football but I feel it’s something we should celebrate as and when it does happen. Probably with a rendition of the famous kids song, actions and all. 

On Saturday Macc were halfway to a team ‘nursery rhyme’. After Kirby’s goal with his knee, it was Captain Kelleher’s turn to step up with a body part. New boy Tollitt whipped in a tasty corner towards the advancing line of blue, and it was the Kelleher who connected, bulldozing the ball over the line with his shoulder and putting us level. As the team roared into the smiling faces behind the goal, the Exeter players looked understandably angry at themselves. They must’ve thought they’d had the victory wrapped up early on, but we obviously had other ideas. Yes it was ugly, but I’ll take ugly football if it keeps us in the league.

The dreaded last five minutes…

Coming back from two goals down feels good. You’ve got the upper hand and you genuinely feel like you’re in control. And we were in control, with a few more half-efforts falling to us over the next few minutes. Kennedy rolled the dice for one final time on the 70th minute, swapping Ironside for last week’s goal hero Blyth. The gang of young lads stood to my left cheered Jacob’s name like they were hailing a long lost hero when he took to the pitch. Maybe he’d found his scoring boots and would be the saviour once again!

The fairytale almost came true. Jacob’s first touch was over on the left, when he managed to keep possession and play a one-two to place him in front of goal. Unleashing his shot, it sailed wide of the left upright to the sounds of 1100 people screaming in frustration around three sides of the ground.

As the clock ticked on things were looking sickeningly familiar. Exeter were pushing us back deeper and deeper, with the impressive Williams still making a pest of himself down the right. Just as he had with Fitz for the first goal he left Archibald stuck in the mud and drove a low cross in. Mitchell was pegged to the near post and could only let the ball hit him and bounce into the path of Bowman, who made no mistake for Exeter. With just 4 minutes to go Exeter celebrated while Kelleher screamed at his keeper, who was face down in the mud in front of goal. 

Yet again we’d conceded in the last few minutes. In fact, almost 70% of the goals we’ve given away have come after the 60 minute mark. It’s no great surprise really, as the haphazard training arrangements we’ve been lumped with must have a negative affect on our fitness. But as the whistle went for full time, it felt like yet another game we could’ve won if we’d have just stayed awake. 

Getting beaten by a Exeter team who are now up in 2nd place shouldn’t come as a huge shock of course. But we know we can do better with the team we have and that’s what is so utterly frustrating. For me the jury is still out on Kennedy, but one win in eight is not encouraging. 

The next few games are going to be just as tough. Plymouth on Tuesday and then Crewe next week means we’ll have played three of the four top teams in the space of a week. It feels like we’re just hanging on in there, dangling on a fraying rope and hoping it doesn’t snap. With another week of silence from our fearless leader, things are looking as bleak as ever. 

#againstallodds https://thewordnerd.home.blog/

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