Eccleshall (NWCFL Challenge Cup)

While the nation poured over Sir Alex Ferguson’s much anticipated autobiography, Abbey boss Luke Gibson was busy plugging a paperback of his own. Released initially in his native Isle of Man and printed on the back of till roll stolen from the Nelson, Gibson’s tome charts his Abbey career thus far. Here is an exclusive extract about our club’s pre match build up to a match at WD&CFC away.

As we arrived at West Didsbury and Chorlton’s suburban ground I already had a bad feeling. The newly promoted club was already proving to be a somewhat prickly thorn in our otherwise tough exterior. Even though we were clearly the better side on the three occasions we met last season, I wasn’t sure that would change today. 
A waft of burning incense hit our nostrils almost as soon as we entered the club house. Not entirely unpleasant. I looked at the label on the burning stick. Jasmine, just as I thought.
On entering the dressing room we found eleven friendship bracelets strategically placed on each of the coat hooks. I later found out these had been produced by the WD&CFC club secretary entirely out of fair trade yarn. 
It was the Chorlton way of saying hello but we didn’t know what to make of it. 
Such a gesture may have curried favour in a more bohemian quarter of life but this was the rugged rough and tumble world of the North West Counties. What were they thinking?
As we made our way onto the pitch for the warm up things took a turn for the worse when my captain Paul Smith tripped over a large yucca plant that had been strategically placed in the tunnel. 
Was this an underhand tactical maneuver from our hosts or simply a bit of Feng Shui? We’ll never know. Either way we had a stubbed toe that needed some immediate attention.
Ambient ocean sounds poured out of the club’s PA system and our opposition warmed up with a series of exercises inspired by Bikram yoga. Their seamless transition between the Cobra and the Standing Bow was majestic. They looked happy and at one with the world. 
If only I could have transferred some of that composure into my lot. I looked to my left and there they were giving each other wedgies and pile-ons like a bunch of schoolkids. 
I looked for my assistant Aggis in an attempt to restore some order but was dismayed to find him in the thick of the high jinx tormenting my left back James Moss. Mossy was in a headlock and on the receiving end of a severe nuggie. I shook my head.
When the fun had died down we returned to the dressing room where Jonny Mac, our stalwart goalkeeper presented me with another problem. One of the Chorlton players’ wives had given him a Henna tattoo across his hand which required 90 minutes drying time. 
I could overlook the snidey yucca plant but this was the final straw. I marched straight into the referee’s dressing room in an attempt to call the game off but found that the hippies had gotten to the match officials too.
Halfway through a box of complimentary cannabis-laden space cake, the ref and his two assistants were grinning from ear to ear.
I shrugged my shoulders. If you can’t beat them join them, I thought and took a bite out of one of the remaining sponge cakes. It was going to be an interesting afternoon.