As soon as the crack squad of athletes that is the Old Bolts B Team had arrived at the battlefield and dismounted from their array of Italian supercars, the Gaffer wheezed and coughed the immortal words (he"s knocking on you know) “We’ll wear the red away kit”.
From this moment on the result was never in doubt.
No-one can explain why, but it is undeniable that the B team is invincible in red. The sight of 10 outfield players being strangled by their own shirts and being blown across the turf at the slightest gust of wind seems to lull the opposition into a false sense of security. Little do they know.......
The 20 minute hike to the pitch from the changing room, followed by a plethora of woeful attempted shots at Dave Sandbrook, was all the warm up we required. Brookes in particular took this opportunity to prove that his high and wide free-kicks, as displayed all season, are not just fluke but the result of hours of this pre-kick off ritual.
When the game got underway, Bolts immediately took the initiative. The first ten minutes was played almost entirely in the Bury half but the gusty wind and difficult surface weren’t ideal for the B team’s brand of “total football”. However, Horan and Brookes were winning every ball in midfield, Barrett was pulling the strings, Southern was pulling the defence all over the park, Griffiths was revelling in the space created and most importantly, Milne was still in his tracksuit on the bench. It was only a matter of time.
And so it proved. Bury finally got a touch and broke from midfield. Norse didn’t see the attack developing because of the tears welling in his eyes as he continued to tell anyone in range about his “man-flu”; this left Ollie Pimblett hopelessly exposed and he could do little about the waves of attackers bearing down on him. Sandbrook never had a chance – First touch, picking it out of the back of the onion bag.
This only rallied the Bolts to re-double their efforts. Norse decided that Jamie’s missus (stood on the sidelines) was a better prospect than 90 minutes in windy conditions and made way for Louis Walsh’s older brother. Milne’s entrance seemed to send a wave of fear running through the opposition. Norse’s performance for the rest of the afternoon can only be described as workmanlike – plenty of effort but simply no talent. Jamie went home with the girl.
Back to the game – Horan was sent into an unfamiliar centre half role and the boy Milne took his position alongside Golden Boy Brookes. The game continued as before but, as the wind started to die down, the Bolts pressure reached new heights. Turner and Davies began to join the party and bombed on to good effect and although Barrett’s “shoot on sight” policy showed little signs of succeeding, the fact that shots were raining down on the corner flags highlights how often Bolts found themselves in space on the edge of the box. Eventually, inevitably, the goal came. Griffiths took a Delap-esque throw and picked out another great Southern run. With one flick of his flowing barnet, a move he perfected during his L’Oreal advert campaign, he found Barrett in front of goal 6 yards out with only the keeper to beat. His mis-control nested in the net and the game was level at half time.
The half-time team talk was inspirational. “Earn the right to play”, “Our fitness will show in the end”, “Rog is bossing midfield” – just a taste of the bullshit that cropped up.
The 2nd half saw Brookes come to life and open his box of tricks. His quick feet and distribution was too much for Bury and also persuaded the rest of the team to play “the beautiful game”. Wes Davies changed his “I refuse to pass before beating 3 men “ rule of the 1st half to “the 5 man rule”, Ben 'Hulk' Horan was striding out of defence like Bobby Moore and even Pimblett was pulling cheeky back-heels out of his locker. Si Turner was still solid.
When the defence raises the bar to that level, the midfield and attack have to respond.......they did. In what one neutral described as “the turning point in the game”, Bolts won a corner. Brookes strolled over to deliver a perfect ball towards the edge of the area. A dark blur appeared at pace and leapt like salmon, using his upper body strength to despatch anything in his way. The ball rocketed goal-bound, the keeper never moved. Killer had scored a header and the net needed urgent repair.
The floodgates were now open as Barrett and Southern made almost telepathic link-ups that Bury simply couldn’t deal with. Their defence was displaying more holes than “College Gangbang 4" - (Director's Cut). A long ball from midfield was chased down by Southern but he was matched stride for stride by the nippy midget at the heart of the Bury defence. Bob considered beating the plucky centre half with skill but saved time, and effort, by simply flooring him. Unfortunately the slightest touch from Bilbo Baggins sent the ball back to the keeper but Bob wasn’t to be denied. In a move taken straight from the Hulk Horan Handbook he charged the keeper, blocked the clearance with his arse and tapped into the empty net. Bury heads visibly dropped.
The one-sided onslaught continued as Bolts showed no mercy. The introduction of Cowgill for Turner added another willing runner as everyone wanted to add their name to the score sheet. Another delicate ball from an increasingly-influential Barrett over the Bury defence found his tireless partner Southern. The keeper saw his chance for revenge and bolted out of the blocks to try and deny his nemesis. It was a long walk back to pick it out when it drifted gloriously over him. 2 for Southern, 4-1 to the Bolts and still time left.
Bury were getting tired, ragged and overrun and when Kilburn picked the ball up on the edge of the box; he had only to find the clever run of Barrett to add to the tally. But his woeful ball ricocheted back to him off the only defender in sight and he thus decided that passing wasn’t for him – he’d go it alone. A drop of the shoulder, a step-over, an injection of pace and then a HORROR challenge. When many would have called for the stretcher, “Killer” defied his nickname by bouncing straight up, shaking the opponents hand and demonstrating the Old Bolts’ spirit of fair play & calmness that this club is built on. What a gent and role-model. Just a talking to for Kilburn, no card this time.
His revenge was sweet and swift. Another swarming attack from Bolts found Southern with the ball at his feet. He hesitated while deciding which phenomenal run to pick out, Brookes or Kilburn. He chose correctly and fed “The B team Ronaldo” who was now 'level' with the last man. If Kilburn’s first touch to control was superb, his left foot half volley, which curled delightfully into the top left corner, was plain sublime. His mobile is still ringing with contract offers. The fact that the goal was approximately 6 full yards offside seemed to bother neither Kilburn nor the hapless referee.
The game had one last chance in it when Southern was let loose on their keeper again in a replay of his second goal, but this time he couldn’t repeat the dose. It didn’t matter. Third-placed Bury had been humbled at home by a vintage Bolts display.
Roll on next season and a Championship charge – this team is something special.