Saturday, 2 March 2024

VISITING MOUSEHOLE AFC IN JANUARY 2009, a game lost 1-2 v Plymstock United...

 The visit…


The Western Morning News had reported that Plymstock were entertaining Mousehole on that cold, Saturday afternoon in January 2009, yet in the fixtures section the match was billed as Mousehole v Plymstock… Confusing? Well, the discrepancy would hardly affect thousands, hundreds, or even tens of interested soccer fans. Maybe ten or twenty? Yet the missing entrance fees would have been valuable life’s blood to the Mousehole club. It affected me, though…


En route to Marazion, I followed the Tom-Tom’s instructions from the Old Coastguard Hotel to Trungle Parc, except that the Tom-Tom was unwilling to direct me there for some unknown reason. It wanted me to make a succession of right turns, which would have led right back into Mousehole village and probably through the barrier on the harbour arm near the toilet block but I knew that the football pitch was in the neighbouring village of Paul… 


Thus I ignored the imploring screams of Tim from Tom-Tom, demanding a right turn, then a right turn then a right turn and headed for Paul, using my own guesswork. My mental satnav led me down the residential Trungle Parc to a gate at the beginning of a field. There was a wooden sign at the start of what might have been a track leading to a farmyard, edged by proliferate green vegetables growing salaciously across another field. The sign informed me that this was indeed the home of Mousehole FC and my car bounced and rocked on the uneven dirt road until I reached the venue. 


THE SIGN, LISTING LIKE A NEWLYN TRAWLER AT LOW TIDE...

NEARLY IN...


The club’s player/manager/groundsman/interpreter/shirt-washer/secretary/coach/manager and all-round good chap was marking out the lines of the penalty-box. He was Mark Trevail, rather an apt name for such a workhorse… 


Another fellow was standing nearby and he confirmed that the game was indeed on, although Mr Trevail’s work was a dead giveaway.  The prospective spectator was from Taunton and he’d seen the Truro v Taunton game on New Year’s Day and Penzance’s home match during the previous evening, whilst I was negotiating red mullet at the Old Coastguard. This game was due to be around his 170th  for the season… That made my forty-odd seem rather paltry, in truth… 


Once found, Trungle Parc was never to be forgotten and so it was that I returned at 1.45pm for the 2. 15pm kick-off, after visiting Marazion, windswept Logan Rock and Lamorna, where refreshments had been taken and even more photographs of the sad, crumbling harbour wall had been snapped. 


PAUL CHURCH WATCHES...


I parked on a dirt slope behind one goal and the situation of the playing surface was somewhat pleasing in the cold, January sunlight.


PARKING LOT...

Quite apart from the visible dark green vegetable harvest, there was Paul’s church tower, its cemetery and the decent backdrop of a landscape. 


The clubhouse was tidy but the green main grandstand was totally, obscurely unique, in relation to my season so far. It stood piously beneath a proud, flapping flag and I couldn’t wait to check out the seating arrangements. There were none. Well, OK, maybe there were a few chairs scattered about and even a memorial bench, the kind one usually finds perched randomly on a coast path to the memory of a local villager… 


THE FACILITIES...

This one’s plaque revered George and Elsie Stephens, 1912-98. Hmm… There was also a flat bench, the kind that could have been picked off a school’s P.E. Department’s trash heap and standing inside the building was like waiting in an oversized bus-shelter. 


GRANDSTAND SEATS...

It just didn’t seem right to sit on the memorial bench and anyway, the ball-boy’s bag had been thrown onto it, so I stood, using a ledge as a table. The surroundings were entirely pleasant and I was quickly befriended by a local fan, sporting a flask of coffee but I was unable to locate his Wagon Wheel. The coffee exuded that not-so-coffee like stench that flasked coffee often does, unlike in Costa or Starbuck’s anywhere on the planet. 


My attention however had been drawn to an odd kiosk-like folly, near the arena’s entrance. I thought it may have been a World War Two pill-box but I doubted that there would have been much of a threat to Paul Cemetery. I had wondered earlier if it was a makeshift cashier’s hut, for an upturned chair lay awry next to the concrete monstrosity but a lady and a girl had already relieved me of cash as soon as my car door was ajar, so maybe Mark Trevail travelled through time in it, I mused? Tardis Trungle…


TARDIS...

The two sets of players had been warming up, Mark Trevail’s voice prominent of course but when the referee appeared on the pitch, my thoughts bordered on ‘lack of fitness’ but he wasn’t to know the level of abuse he would later conjure up amongst players, coaches and screaming spectators. There were some irate individuals present, out for vengeance at the end of their holiday period during the subsequent ninety minutes, during which I guess the official wished the world would simply leave him alone, let him go home, put his plaid slippers on, listen to Radio 4 and have his tea in absolute peace with a few quid in his pocket.


The linesmen were like flour and chalk, poles apart. Indeed, flagpoles apart. One was a youth, Mousehole’s representative, sporting a virulent flag, short shorts and a short-sleeved top but the other assistant looked like he had been kidnapped from a Cornish retirement home under duress. He was wearing a linesman’s kit, although his socks had been pulled up, over black and loose tracksuit bottoms. He was shivering. Everyone else in his vicinity began shivering too. He was grey-haired, or maybe it was frosted, he was moustachioed and he beat his arms to keep warm, like the pigeons I had seen earlier in the day, drying their feathers, after bathing in shallow water, off Marazion’s main street. He discussed the referee’s decisions with indignant spectators, possibly trying to make a friend or two, or maybe attempting to illicit sympathy for his unenviable plight. He wanted to go home too. He looked at his watch a lot.


OFFICIALS...

The robust referee had decided that seasonal goodwill was the order of the day, whistling frequent breaks in the play to allow himself to recover from the exertions of nearly jogging towards incidents and to permit the more senior assistant to take in oxygen, receive a full leg massage and to fill-up his hot water bottle. The three officials had likely discussed the tactic beforehand…


COLD...

Sadly, the referee really did feel the need to discuss each separate, occasionally bad challenge with offenders and the Plymstock skipper had obviously decided that this was handy for him, as their leader, to plead, debate and generally enable everybody watching to enjoy his winding-up tactics, for yellow and red cards were firmly iced inside the official’s pocket. The alleged stamping incident, involving a Mousehole midfielder, who had first been fouled by a visiting forward, then possibly branded by a neat array of studs in a speedy illustration of how gravity works, went unpunished by the referee, as several home players squealed their derision and the visiting agitator opened his arms in innocence like a wronged heavyweight wrestler in a bar-room brawl.


The perpetrator was bearded, he looked like a local farmhand who had been dragged off his tractor to make up the team, thereby preventing him from manically blocking narrow Cornish lanes for a few hours. He resembled Phil Mitchell from Eastenders, bar the hair-colour and robust girth. This footballer was skilled however, setting up both goals for Plymstock, one with a header, the other with a fine pass for a colleague to run onto. He appeared to be kindly natured too, after the stepping incident in which he reminded me of a well-fed shoebill stork nearing a squirming lungfish in an African pond, before a belly-flopping lunge… 


I enjoyed my visit to Trungle Parc, the effort shown by both teams was creditable and I shall certainly visit again, when I am certain a game is actually going ahead there…


WARMING UP...

The match…


Grumble In the Trungle As Mousehole Are Opened Up…


Mousehole AFC 1 Plymstock United 2






The match official was under severe pressure throughout this game, from onlookers, players, coaches and surely himself, for he failed to caution misdemeanours until he booked a Mousehole forward for bellowing, “You must be joking!” very late in the game. Perhaps that’s not all the striker said and he had been walking a thin line since previous verbal combat during the first-half. Plymstock conceded early, looked more combative in midfield and possessed forwards who ran directly towards goal. And they had West, a solid, nay, voluminous attacker, bearded and looking more like a friendly Austrian woodcutter than a footballer but he affected the game. He knew the game… 


Plymstock began the second period with a flourish, netted twice and missed a host of goalscoring opportunities, which could have sorely embarrassed their hosts. The three forward players for Mousehole were all lively but poor service and dodgy decision making saw their best moves fall apart, yet even at the death, Mousehole might have snatched an undeserved point.






Day’s smart pass right to Tonkin was wasted by the midfielder, who fired badly wide but this inaccuracy was a feature of the player’s game on the day. The home team, starting in a quick manner, nearly paid the price for their questionable full-back play, when Bowden slipped a ball to Hulme, who drove too high. Mousehole did take the lead when Tonkin managed to turn the ball on for Gerrans James on the right flank, who bore down on the goalie but shot straight at him, then saw his rebound from an angle, deflected across goal to where Day was lurking to slot into the net from a couple of yards. 


Plymstock’s Young found Jasper on the left but Mousehole defender Snell was too easily beaten on the inside, leaving the forward to waste his 17 yard shot across the face of the home goal. Mousehole’s Prowse could only deliver to the ‘keeper after a smart pass to Gerrans James from Day had initiated the move then Plymstock’s West turned remarkably well for a big man, slipped the ball inside the eager but undisciplined full-back Caz James but Jasper drove wide of the far upright from an angle on the right. 


Another escape for Mousehole occurred when Bowden swung a pass inside Caz James again for Powney, whose powerful drive struck the near post with the inexperienced Mousehole goalkeeper Blewett beaten. Left-sided Patrick, for the hosts who was usually in space, knocked a pass forward for Gerrans James but defender Young got a slowing touch on the ball and the ‘keeper was forced to get down quickly to smother at the second attempt as the striker followed in at the left post.


Trouble brewed when the large West appeared to foul then stamp on Mousehole’s Prowse but the official failed to act, simply chatting to both players, surprisingly. A poor header down by Bowden to the home goalie, from Jones’ centre was a bad miss for Plymstock but when a bad challenge on Prowse by Jasper went unpunished again, the Mousehole player was too damaged to carry on and the referee then took a degree of verbal advice from visiting skipper Francis, who was wise to the situation that the official was being remarkably lenient. 


The home ‘keeper sliced Bowden‘s head-on badly and West’s 36 yard volleyed rebound was well struck but off target. Bowden headed on again for the visitors, Powney got in front of the goalie but nudged his effort wide of the left post. Mousehole remained shaken by the referee’s lack of disciplinary action and also Plymstock’s response to being a goal behind but they finally created an opportunity, Gerrans James crossing the ball from the right, the flight beating Knight and Mousehole’s Patrick tested the ‘keeper with a rising shot from 15 yards.  


Substitute Cape, hair trailing behind him, fluffed a far post shot after Day’s left-wing corner fell to him then Day’s fine pass to Patrick on the overlap, saw Gerrans James at full stretch in front of an open goal but he could only fire the low centre well over the crossbar. Cape was very late on Plymstock’s Knight but escaped with a bedtime story from the referee, before Bowden volleyed wide for the visitors, after Caz James had headed away a left-wing corner by Knight. 


Plymstock threatened again when Francis’ right-wing corner was challenged for at the near post by the considerable size of West but it was his centre-half, Byrne, who shot wide of the upright from close range. Elphick pulled off a fine, diving save for Plymstock, pushing aside Patrick’s drive, following a header by Cape and link-play by Day and Gerrans James. The flag-kick by Day fell to Tonkin but his effort was blocked and as the half ended, Plymstock ought to have equalised. Francis clipped a free-kick left to Powney but he wasted the near post opportunity, firing badly wide.


Mousehole had missed a couple of good chances but Plymstock had grown in confidence and the hosts’ midfield was looking more ragged since Prowse had been replaced. Snell and Trevail were doing fairly well in centre-defence but the full-backs were struggling. Bowden was being afforded too much time and space for the visitors but the forward players, Powney and Jasper were running well and Hulme looked tricky on the few occasions he was brought into the play.


PLYMSTOCK: RED IN GREENLAND...

A poor start to the second-half by Mousehole led to an early equaliser and to be honest the hosts failed to recover, with Plymstock looking the more likely winners. Francis shot badly askew for the visitors before Jones’ free-kick was headed on by West and as Jasper challenged the ‘keeper, the ball skidded across goal for Hulme to convert from 2 yards and celebrate like a Pony Express rider. Gerrans James lost possession and Young ran many yards before the home goalie raced from goal to hack the ball away then Francis fed the ball inside a defender for Hulme but with the ‘keeper ready to collect, Caz James hacked the ball away to concede a needless corner.


Finally, Mousehole put a decent move together, Gerrans James sent Day away but his rising 16 yarder, from the right side of the penalty-box was superbly tipped over the crossbar by Elphick. Elphick though fumbled the corner and the ball eventually reached Cape, just 12 yards out but his effort was wasteful and well over the crossbar. 


THE SEAGULLS MARK UP...

Hulme missed an open goal for Plymstock when West cleverly dummied Powney’s right-wing centre and the winger somehow drove wide from 10 yards. Very wide indeed. Day fed a long pass left for Patrick but the ‘keeper palmed away the ensuing near post centre, then Caz James made a strong run but Gerrans James screwed his shot past the far, right upright. 


The second Plymstock goal came, probably deservedly from Hulme again, after a pass inside the right-back, again… This time West’s release was excellent, Hulme ran on and beat the ‘keeper with a low drive from 15 yards. The winger again celebrated like a circus rider…


Day saw a shot deflected as Mousehole battled back but then lost possession, allowing Plymstock to break with Hulme and Jasper, whose final effort drifted across the face of goal. A smart free-kick for Mousehole by Day, saw a quick pass for Caz James to run onto near the right post but the ‘keeper was down fast to deny the full-back. Defender Howes was replaced for the hosts then Jasper worked hard for the visitors but was blocked by Hall and Bowden’s effort was fumbled then gathered by the goalie. 


West was replaced for the visitors then Hulme squandered another opportunity for the visitors, who were by then slicing through the Mousehole midfield almost at will, long passes finding the channels well and finding the cover spread-eagled. Powney flicked on the ball this time but Hulme smashed his shot well over the crossbar from 15 yards, bearing down on goal. He missed an easier chance a few moments later with Mousehole’s midfield passer Hall off the field. The winger was there, just 2 yards out but shot wide, after Jasper had done so well to work the bye-line on the right and serve the opportunity on a plate.


Gerrans James ran into ‘keeper Elphick when Patrick’s left-wing centre looked inviting but curiously it was the goalie and his defender, Byrne, who squared up to each other. Another run by Powney ended with a shot driven over Blewett’s near, left angle from 16 yards but with Mousehole riding their luck, they broke and Patrick beat Jones easily on the left bye-line but the ‘keeper dealt with the centre at his near post. Bowden hit another long pass for Powney to chase, his cross was cleared but Knight fired the rebound straight at the goalie. As the game neared its end, Patrick got away again on the Mousehole left but his near post shot hit the top of the side-netting. Finally, Gerrans James was cautioned for Mousehole, for use of his mouth, or maybe failing to stay onside regularly enough…


Caz James rescued the hosts twice, first from Hulme, who had dribbled to the left bye-line and then from Powney, who was attacking the near post area. Yet another escape came for Mousehole in the dying embers of the game when Jasper dribbled along the right bye-line and from 2 yards, scooped his shot from the right post against the underside of the bar, giving Mousehole one last, undeserved chance to rescue a point but it was not to be. The last attack fizzled out and Plymstock’s skipper, Francis toe-poked wide in ugly fashion then Jasper beat Trevail and drove for goal, only to be denied by Blewett’s good save.


Plymstock kept their shape to win the game, benefited from a lenient referee and did not have to replace players with inferior substitutes. Mousehole still could have won the game with better finishing but only Hulme will know how he missed on three separate occasions and when one considers their striking of the woodwork twice, the visitors certainly deserved the victory. 


They were quicker and more direct, for too many Mousehole moves broke down through miscommunication between the forwards, who were certainly useful, although the talented Day had a bad one. Day, that is…


West, who may have looked more at home on Eastenders, did his job effectively, skipper Francis foraged, Bowden released several telling passes and Powney and Jasper worried the rather stagnant Mousehole defence. The young goalie fared well for Mousehole, despite some nervous moments but the visiting ‘keeper impressed for much of the game, as did the central defenders. 


Plymstock had rumbled in the Trungle and won the points…




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