Stylers come from behind to secure deserved victory

WNSS 2 - 1 PNP Albion; put away the trumpets, and shackle the topless dancers; no need to rub your eyes in disbelief, but it is another WNSS victory. For the last few games the Stylers have started to show signs of getting their house in order; with the return to fitness of Daz and an overall improvement in everyones cardio-vascular performance. Some might say that an inner belief and steely determination is starting to creep into everyones game.

Owing to the Legends spinal tap, another Brown family reunion and Pistol Pete's private commitments, the Stylers were left to field a squad of 8 including Flames, fresh from his high-altitude training in Mexico. With their new formation of 2-4, to stifle the opposition they set about their task with gusto and resolve. They began tentatively but gradually began to exert their authority on the game. Some good passing and some intelligent running saw the glimpse of a chance for the Beast, but the ball was too long. Overhit passes where to become a theme of the game.

It was very much against the run of play that PNP broke the deadlock. Despite a passage of fluid play from the Stylers which had seen several opportunities open and shut in the blink of an eye, it was the familiar scene of uncleared lines which culminated with the ball in the net. But almost in an instant the Stylers were level. An unmitigated disaster in PNP rear-guard saw Daz react the quickest to nod a looper over the hapless net monkey. 1 - 1, and all to play for.

The second half saw a dis-jointed start from both sides. The 40th minute arrived and so did the man, in the shape of Gavstacurta. After chasing a dead-end over-it pass, the lanquid midfielder held his nerve and picked out Wildy. After almost an eternity he released the ball to the Beast, no chance for the keeper as the running man walked it in. Easy. Gavstacurta's reward was an early rest, as the ginger prince entered the fray. Seemingly re-charged after his soujourn to the Yucatan peninsula, the flame-haired genius appeared to have finally learned how to play the beautiful game; laying on some exquisite passes and nods to his appreciative team-mates. One such gem put the Beast clean through only for him to tamely hit the keeper. But in the excitement of the miss and the game opening up, the Stylers nearly threw it away. Flames misplaced a pass and the PNP broke 4 against 2, Mikos was incandescent as Flames failed to mop up his mess. It was a must win tackle. He won it.

Are our heroes on the cusp of a winning run? Who dares to dream in this upside down crazy world.

3 in 3 for Flames, but not enough to secure a first victory

Down, but not out just yet..........

3 goals, a sending-off and and an OGGY...All in a days work for the WNSS

A.H. Electrical 3 - 0 WNSS FC; How can you describe a game that had it all? No excuses this time about the weather, and with only Mikos absent they couldn't argue the toss about a weakened squad. On a day where the very foundations of the club started to crumble assunder, two of the all time WNSS greats conspired to plunge the club into crisis. Never before had so much controversy been squeezed into 50 minutes of football, other than the battle of the buffet at Old Trafford only 9 months previously. As ever the previous nights preparation for a third of the squad involved anything but a night in front of the TV with the missus and a cup of tea; the die was cast, the result inevitable. The opposition, put to the sword by the WNSS last season by the same score, paraded the familiar face of Robocop in defence and an assortment of whinging loons in support.

A couple of good moves saw the WNSS exert some early pressure and they created a couple of encouraging openings. But in familiar style they found their classic form, and the WNSS found themselves a goal down, and then proceeded to struggle for the next 40 minutes. Daz then withdrew himself, fearing a bout of corner-flag projectile vomiting and was replaced by the languid Gavstacurta. Soon they were 2-0 down, as a drilled cross wasn't cleared and the net bulged with great aplomb. Their No.10 was on a hat-trick. Half time saw the temperature start to rise as the massed ranks of the WNSS began their own live autopsy on the first half performance. Flames barking his views, the Beast not happy, Guido claiming "we can beat these, they're shit"

A 2-0 down there was a chance, and the WNSS dug in and attempted the impossible; to score......and then score again. In the next few minutes a series of pivotal decisions were made that directly influenced the events that then followed. Flames and The Doctor were primed to enter the fray and Flames signalled to Pistol to come off, at the same time that Wildo announced that he'd had enough. Pistol stayed on, Wildo withdrew, Flames entered stage left. Pistol gathered the ball and pushed forward, while Flames in space cried for a pass. It didn't come. Flames berrated Pistol, Pistol volleyed back a tirade of expletives, and it was all too much for the referee. Pistol was already making the long walk as the red card was mercilessly brandished by the official. Flames was ashen-faced, Pistol was incandescent, and the FA......dumbstruck. WNSS had sent one of their own players off. Surely this own-goal by Flames, in goading his teammate into self-combustion, would be the end of the excitement? Unfortunately the gods took their revenge and as a second drilled cross seemed to be drifting safely out into touch, the hapless Flames simply ballooned it into his own net. The abject ginger one imploded after that, and engineered at least two more gift-wrapped chances for the opposition with stray passes and a woeful free-kick.

The 3rd goal killed the contest off, and signalled the beginning of the post mortem. The question on everyones lips is how long will Pistol be banned for, and how much will the fine be? The financials aside, who can put a price on two WNSS legends at logger-heads. Rumours close to the camp revealed that Flames was already digging up the olive branch, and he was considering taking out a full page in the Financial Times for an apology. WNSS need to pick themselves up for tomorrow nights cup clash against lower division opponents, but as Guido would say "we can beat these, they're shit".

Short on legs and short on ideas.........

The 2005/06 season kicked off in familiar fashion with a 2-0 defeat at the hands of Manchester Road. In conditions described by some as "plainly ridiculous", the seasons' first knockings were painted against a backdrop of searing temperatures, ageing limbs, and acute dis-organisation. In a game that they "should have won" WNSS looked every bit the side that finished 2nd bottom at the end of the previous campaign. Despite the pre-match discussion, countless debates as to their dis-ability to pass the ball, and the need to conserve precious fluids and energy, the WNSS struggled to hold on to the ball, pick a pass, or create more than 3 shots on goal in 50 mins. Reverting to type, Flames and The Doctor were condemned to "dealing" with the usual mixture of penalty-box shelling and throat height exocets. The continued absence of their midfield general (Daz, nursing a knee injury from an unofficial friendly) and a glaring gap in the shape of a striker meant that it was "business as usual" against a suprisingly spritely Manchester Road attack of Ali and Pes (Flames' neighbour). These two goons had a good 3 yards on the WNSS attack, and made use of the 10 years that they also had in the locker. Guido, Mikos, and Pistol were run ragged in the early exchanges but in the extreme temperatures the passes didn't come to allow the WNSS to hold the ball and play at their own tempo.

Owing to WNSS dysfunction in front of goal, and the oppressive elements, it was critical to avoid conceding early. For the new "Cat" it was key that the onion bag remained chaste so that he might build his confidence and become the foundation for the WNSS fortress. 8 mins in, this plan went up its own arse. Despite an early flurry Manchester Road didn't look particularly lethal in front of goal, but when WNSS failed to clear their lines the result was inevitable. Poor. Behind, again, they were chasing the game, the ball, opposition shadows, and each other all to no avail. The Beast, having worked tirelessly, pulled up short; the victim of a high pollen count. Steve came on to add his hand to the tiller.

Two changes at half time, saw the Legend and Flames get the call. The tortured ginger genius was already sodden with his own juices before he came on!!! With the WNSS still in the dressing room, and Flames at odds with his own skin, Manchester Road came streaming down the right wing. Flames didn't deal with it, the cross came in and it was game set and match. With the new season 2 games in, and the stats reading played 2 conceded 8 scored 0, there can be no hiding from the facts. A team that can't defend or score has got some serious problems.

Can you hear it? Its the sound of the managerial merry-go-round firing up.

WNSS crash out of cup in record defeat

WNSS 0 - 8 AFC Rudheath; a score line that speaks a thousand words. One such word would be "out"; of the cup again at the first hurdle, but owing to building fixture congestion, no bad thing. Annual tradition demanded that barring a bye, the WNSS must exit the cup swiftly to focus their attentions on all matters of the league. In fairness WNSS had put their thumb in Brian Maddocks pie and pulled out a real plum draw in the shape of Premier League opponents AFC Rudheath. Armed with such characters as "Disco", "Gonzo", and "Jacko" (all of whom had more than a rudimentary understanding of the beautiful game) WNSS' fate was sealed from the first whistle. With no natural Keeper (Bad start), or Striker in the WNSS ranks, I'll let you fill in the blanks that punctuate the 8 moments where the Legend was either prostrate in the back of his own net, statuesque in wonder with the ball behind him in the net, or in the net with the ball bent over picking it up. All in all, a dark chapter in the record books. The only smiling face of the day was that of Flames, delighted that his personal horror show between the sticks against Harrisons Allstars had now been eclipsed. Roll on the sandwiches and Manchester Road.

Mikos commits future to WNSS

Perfect timing from the midfield dynamo, as he commits himself to another 12 months at WNSS; all to the delight of the management.

"Clearly its a much needed shot in the arm as the new season approaches. We desperately need people who can actually pick a pass, control the ball, and maybe take on a man. Its great for us that he's given the bird to ADFC. We'll have them for this illegal approach....."

There was further good news in the signature of the new "CAT". Initial reports suggest that he does at least have an basic understanding of the game, and knows at which end to stand. This is in stark contrast to Il Gatto, who seemed to struggle with the rudimentary principles; we can only reminisce wistfully about his David James-esque flappings and all-round penalty-box incompetance. Whilst he was undoubtedly a great shot stopper, the risks of him rugby tackling the opposition striker on the halfway line was too great. The demise of Il Gatto is well publicised, as we know his career with WNSS was cut short after a near-fatal car accident left the erstwhile onion-bag guard with a severe case of the DT's. Sources within the club revealed that a dressing-room clash with Stella was the real reason for Il Gatto's departure. Whatever the details, the new signing can only be good news. Is this the dawn of an new era?

WNSS big names on the clearout list?

"Are you feeling lucky punk, well are you?" Pistol Pete keeps his watchful eye on the wheeling and dealing that is the foundation of every Moss Farm 7's closed season. Keen to consolidate and strengthen his squad he was very guarded at the WNSS press conference yesterday. When asked about the goalkeeping situation, which has been the achilles heel of recent seasons, he was quite upbeat; "Dave's mate might do us a turn, except noone seems to have his phone number." However he was less enthusiastic about the enigmatic mis-firing Flames. "You can't put weight on like that and expect to mix it at this level. What in christs name is he doing to himself?" The rumour mill can only be kicked into overdrive by these accusations. Could Flames be on his way? Could he be the make-weight to bring "ACE" to WNSS? What an ignominious end to a glittering career that would be.

Stylers brought down to earth by 2 Megamind SKUDs

After a rousing win last week, the first since September, it looked like an end of season pick me up was the order of the day. With 2 games to go there was a strong possibility that the Skill Stylers could make it 3 wins in a row, and record their best sequence of results since the start of the season.

From the off the Stylers looked leaden-footed, and an early scare came in the form of a bullet clearance header from Gavstacurta, that shaved the bar. Confidence is a fragile beast, and it was cruelly shattered when WNSS failed to clear their lines after a routine corner. A looped cross and a nod-in seemed a soft goal, and sounded the familiar death-knell of a WNSS collapse. With goals at the zenith of a premium, to concede was a costly affair.

On a balmy afternoon, the WNSS pressed on in true Clare Rayner style and started to put a few passes together. The Beast was released down the left, beat his man and on the stroke of the trigger was yanked back. Free kick, and an opportunity to square the match. It was wasted, owing to nothing coming "straight from the training ground". This was the Beasts last action, and he was withdrawn clutching his ribs. The introduction of Flames signalled their intent to join the battle royale.

The second half saw our stylers on the front foot, nice megs from Flames bought him a couple of yards, an interchange with Mikos and they were in. Flames drilled a ball into the danger area bisecting the runs of Mikos and Ernie; again wasted. His ginger lugs were are red as his locks after a tirade from Ernie. Not to be flustered, they dug in again. Guido picks up the ball, and he's through; not quite. He is rudely executed platoon-esque on the edge of the area. Its yellow, but we know its a let off. He wants it, but Flames brushes him aside, "I'll have it"; "Kez, you better hit the target" is the response; straight into the wall......shit.

Its got 1-0 written all over it, but while its only 1, there's always a chance. Flames recieves from Mikos, beats his man, but there's a tangle and he's robbed, now he's angry and the red mist descends over the mercurial ginger....No.7 is getting away....not any more. It's a horror lunge; two footed, above the knee; late, very late. It's yellow, and Flames is £8 the poorer for it. All we needed now was to concede a 2nd. Well done. Flames rounds off the afternoon with an aimless ball into space for Mikos to chase. He's not happy. Who is?

Guido celebrates Flames booking.......deserved retribution on the fat twat no.7

Clint Eastwood.......Unforgiven........for his part in the first goal

Inconsolable; how could he be beaten by a looped cross and a nod-in......gutted

Moving on.......after 2 seasons of mediocrity David Trezeguet makes his long awaited transfer to Skipton AFC.....

No. 3 - Pete "Pistol" Singleton

Name: Pistol Pete
Age: Very Old
Position: Defensive Midfield Striker

Currently holed away in an exclusive high altitude rehabilitation centre, some may have feared they had seen the last of the silver fox.

After some early promising appearances in the UK in the late 80's/early 90's, Pistol Pete was forced to flee the country in a non-football related scandal, and headed for the purest convict colony of them all, Australia. After 6 years in exile, and as a stalwart of the Gladesville RSL defence, he headed back to the UK with a quick one year contractual stopover in the USA.

This was to be the start of a dream 7-a-side career, leading a team to the final and victory in his local tournament. Unfortuntely, he was so excited that he threw his arms in the air, dislocated his shoulder and ended up in the local hospital having it relocated under general anaesthetic. (After handing out the trophies) Aganst all advice, he then drove home wearing only a backless hospital gown, football boots and shin pads.

On his return, and post-shoulder reattachment, Pistol Pete eventually was brought into the WNSS fold, and subsequently to the mighty WNSS 7-a-side team. Best known for a turn of speed that belies his slim athleticism (Very similar to a Russian oil tanker), and a propensity for shouting at Flames for no apparrent reason. A steady player, prone to the occasional misguided action, including splitting the lip of a meathead form Frank's Paving, slapping the fat guy from Lostock 1892, and most recently giving away an undeserved penalty.

Hopefully this latest injury setback will not be the final curtain on an illustrious and infamous career........

Rock bottom, no oxygen tanks, and lead slippers......WNSS in crisis?

On a balmy January afternoon, one mans managerial debut was expected to be the pancea to salvage a wretched season. What transpired was anything but. Sir Geoffrey Howe once stood up in the houses of parliament and likened his stewardship as foreign secretary, under Margaret Thatcher to that of a batsman with a smashed bat facing the West Indian fast-bowlers. Mikos now shares that ignominious fate.

From the off, they were up against it; Coco's chronographical apocalypse aside. With Daz carrying his entrails like a wounded Vietnam infantryman, and others carrying knocks, it was always going to be a struggle; add to that the Legends self-imposed exile, and the hapless Flames guarding the onion bag. You can draw your own conclusions. Such dreadful preparations could only be matched by the Beast's terminal failure to communicate which kit should be worn several weeks earlier. Grown men shouldn't be made to wear red bra's.

What was not needed was an early goal; so in true WNSS fashion, Flames and Guido conspired to deliver one. The frustration was palpable as Flames booted the ball up Guido's arse once, twice, and a third for good measure.

Can things get any worse

No.8 - Adam "The Beast" Strefford

Age - Same as Ryan Giggs
Position - Anywhere but in goal.
Special skill - The magical step over and blistering pace (although the two can't be combined)
Background - Raised on the barren windswept moorlands of North Yorkshire, the brainchild of a deranged scientist trying to create a half man/monkey hybrid. Fortunately he escaped those frozen wastelands, shaved off his excess hair and developed a taste for competitive, win at all costs, football. A veteran of the Slovakian and Hungarian beach football circuits, only a crippling injury whilst on tour in Devon prevented him completing a lucrative sponsorship deal with Pony (one pair of astros and boot bag only). Now just past his prime, the contracts from Real and United being lost in the post, he can be found hugging the touchline at Mossfarm enthusiastically wanting every pass and shooting from seemingly impossible angles. The skills may have diminished but his love of the game still burns brightly.

WNSS FC thrown into crisis

Surely it can't be true? In a dramatic turn of events it was revealed last night that the beloved Wednesday skills-fest could be thrown into turmoil. In a cruel twist of fate, the installation of KPMG as Congleton Borough Councils financial auditors has sounded the potential death-knell of the post match autopsy and convivial after dinner drinks. In a statement published by Norbert Shorts, Director General of C.B.C., he made it clear that the books were in poor shape.

"Opening twice a week for 2 hours is a costly exercise, especially when the cash return is as dismal as it currently is. Despite some deep-cut promotional activity on Scrumpy Jack and Fiddlers Elbow (Cat-Nip), we cannot get these Wednesday show-boating bastards to spend any money. Its a matter of brass tacks, hence Wednesday or Friday is for the chop"

Clearly the ramifications for the wider community are far-reaching, and in an unprecedented move the WNSS FC players union have started a petition, a book of condolances, and Holmes Chapel's first Telethon. Donations to the "Save the Skill Stylie" charity are most welcome.

No. 21 - Darren "Daz" Furlong

Age : 28 going on 48
Position : missionary
Special Skill : Ability to boil over unnecessarily
Background : Found as a five year old having been raised by a pack of wolfs roaming the wild woodlands of Delamere. He was promptly adopted Romanian gypsies who forced him into a life of toil. At the age 17 he ran away to join the Swiss club "Young Boys" where he honed his skills
in the reserves (ball boy). After the financial collapse of the Swiss league in the late 90's he was coaxed to the WNSS FC on a bosman having been sold the dream of achieving european glory by the manager along side other well established internationals (El Gatto, Karsten Janker, The Doctor, etc).

No. 2 - Adrian "Chopper" Green

Age: 21+
Position : All positions catered for.......(see his last statement......Ed.)
Special skills : The shot from anywhere, the glorious volley, and of course, the firm but fair challenge
Background : After some punishing spells in the Winnington under 11's and under 13's, and the mighty Moulton under 15's (1 win per season average), a career break was entered in pusuit of excelling in the field of beer drinking. Returning to the football arena in the rightful place of the WNSS a number of years later he showed that he has not regained any of the skills previously evident although the odd peachy goal is usually on the cards. Can always be found with a pregnant wife.

No.22 - Steve "Legend" Cleugh

Age: Classified

Position: Had more positions than the Karma Sutra, but now primarily in goal

Special Skills: Commando rolls

Background: Part of a top secret government unit, little is know of the Legends origins (some say he's the long lost twin brother of Carsten). Has been known to go AWOL for weeks on end and then to be very elusive regarding his whereabouts. Blessed with sublime abilities, this is the player who, over the years, has provided more magic moments than Perry Como. Now, in the twilight of his career and ravaged by injury, the one time giant of the field of dreams, can be found skulking around his own penalty area, with glimpses of his past genius becoming as rare as a pass from the Beast.

No. 4 - Tim "Wildy" Wild

Name: Wildy/ Wildo

Age: Uncertain

Position: Defensive Midfield

Special Skills: Crab-like Lateral Movement Off the Ball

Background: Raised on the docks in Liverpool started kicking a can into a fishing net to escape the reality of childhood. Borded ship in 1984 as stowaway and was taken on by Atletico Maracana as a utility player in the Intertoto Cup. After 3482 appearances. 3481 as sub, 0 goals, he was transferred to WNSS in exchange for a crate of Sol and a donkey named Bobo. Whereabouts of Sol unknown, future of Bobo uncertain.

No. 1 - Paul "Dicko" Dickson

Age... Old VERY old
Position..Bent over double
Special skills.. Picking the ball out of the net often
Background.. Born within a spitting distance of the hot bed of soccer known as Anfield, he was always destined to be a famous player, blessed with sublime skills. However destiny took its own hand in things and decreed that he was turned away from the shankly gates with his tail between his legs and the words "for gods sake take up squash" echoing in his shell like. He spent the next twenty years of his life nomadically going from sunday league team to sunday league team, in desperate search of a squad that would appreciate what he had to offer and finally found his true level in the nets at WNSS, where even there he cannot get a regular game due to his past love child commitments from his mis-spent youth. Does still turn in the odd spectacular shot stopper which merits his brief appearances and dreams of what might have been when crosses are sailing over his head just like David James Roy Carroll et al.