Crap Match Report
Wivenhoe Town 1, Walsham-le-Willows 1

To Broad Lane! …on Saturday afternoon, just as the sun was starting to set over Wivenhoe – which *isn’t* a meteorological mixed up metaphor to describe the fortunes of the Dragons of late.
Walsham-le-Willows may be able to boast probably the most picturesque and rural name in all of the Ridgeons Premier League, but the Suffolk footballing superstars sadly can’t boast a fleet of BMW’s as their away day match transport. A clapped out mini-bus that only just managed to manoevre the potholes of Broad Lane is the best that it gets.
The away team didn’t exactly park the mini-bus in front of their own goal mouth for most of the match. As one would hope for a match featuring fifth from bottom Wivenhoe and third from the foot of the table Walsham, this was an attacking end-to-end game with poor finishing.
Once again I am reminded of my favourite footballing quote, spoken by a close friend from the Fair City when I charmed him with a weekend away at Broad Lane:
“Bad football being played badly is BRILLIANT!“
Wearing a strip that looked remarkably like late ’70s Wales, Walsham were attractive on the eye, if not on the approach play. I thought that a seasonal Christmas Tree formation was in place, only to later work out that it was simply a school playground kick ‘n rush ‘n scatter tactical style of play.
Wivenhoe came close in the first half with a shot that laced into the side netting. “Keep it wide!” I enthusiastically shouted, just as the 20 man bunch made a beeline for the wing and tried to cover a five-metre square patch of land for the rest of the first half.
I struck lucky with my observations, as did young Ben Connell who attacked the right wing and ended up celebrating with the masses. There’s a message in there for us all, Comrades.
1-0 to the home team at half time and a young (ish) man’s thoughts turn towards the bar. Broad Lane has received a lick of paint since my last visit. The bar looks rather brilliant with the legend: The Dragon’s Den pained above the beer pumps.
My footballing partner for the afternoon (bought on eBay) and I sat in darkness for fifteen minutes and pondered the meaning of life in the makeshift bar for a North Ease Essex non-league football team. This is truly as good as it gets my friends.
It was a little more romantic back on the pitch, just as the bruising skies of the estuary wilds led to the Broad Lane floodlights being turned on. I was ever so slightly aroused myself, something that I attribute to the Co-op supply of Ibuprofen that I have been necking for the past month.
Wivenhoe wound the clock day with a pace of play that made life down toward lower Wivenhoe seem positively urban and futuristic. The ball was trapped in the corners, with the Walsham supporters suggesting that the Dragons “weren’t very professional.”
Well observed, my friend. Welcome to non-league football.
But the last laugh came from the team that traveled in a bus that would make Cedric’s look like the lap of luxury. A late, late equaliser for the away team, and then an ‘over-enthusiastic’ attempt at a shirt swap, come the final whistle. That’s something that I must try with @AnnaJCowen back at base when the lights are turned out.
I’ll take the away end, luv.
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