Dad was once asked by the congregation at St James' if he could not mention football in his sermons for a year. He failed and after today, I can see why. Ryan Nicholls last minute equaliser was the sort of miracle that inspires all to exhalt the lord. And then some. Aber introduced new boy David Parry to the starting eleven, leading to immediate problems as to whether he was a 'Dai' or not. I don't care as the man fought (he was booked very early on) and thought like a demigod, as befits someone who has seen the dizzy heights of football at Crystal Palace. In another dynamic move, Bamford warmed the bench for ninety minutes.
It appears that we may not see Jamesy or Harri fulfilling this role for some time. But to the game. Played on the sloping, corregated mess that is "Yr Oval",
a ground that even fails to beat Barry in the refreshment stakes; a quite pathetic shed in the corner that didn't charge me for their disgusting chip bap. But to the game, again. Caernarfon scored after two minutes through the returning Eifion Williams, returning from wearing the sky blue of Manchester City in a friendly. An unmarked header did the damage, K had no chance.
But chances were what Caernarfon had by the barrel-load even if Aber appeared to have more of the ball. However, the visitors fluffed all their chances, including a run on goal from Ry, who trod on the ball rather than whack it big time goalwards. However, one goal was all that the Canaries had to show for their endeavours, captured on film as they were by the bods at the beeb, who are now plotting a Championship Cup or something to make up for their loss of the rugger. Back to the game, though. A game which appeared to have slipped out of Aber's hands when Caernarfon added to their tally on the hour. And, again, they
should've had more but strong tackling and good goalkeeping defeated their expert organisation. It wasn't until the final quarter that Aber showed their stuff. Gav got the first, pouncing on a rebound of a rebound of a fumble that'll look good on Tocyn Tymor tomorrow. We all, that is those of us who were standing behind the goal, expected an Aber charge but it never came.
Instead, it was the North Walians who had to endure open goal misses and shots straying inches wide whilst the Aber build up was patient, usually going through either Parry or Wyn Thomas, who played like the potential saviour he is. Then the ball came to Ry and all our prayers were answered. For once, a long journey back was not spent discussing the failings of the team, but contemplating a brighter future. It'll all go pear shaped soon.
