ON THE RIGHT LINES?
With apologies to Rev. W.V. Awdry

VALE OF LUNE  34  TYLDESLEY  0

For the Fat Controller, the shareholders and assorted excited passengers the waiting was at last over. No more naughty trucks, leaves on the line, frozen points or carriages in the wrong spot, for once, after eleven unsuccessful frustrating journeys, the day had arrived when everything worked. Whistles blew, hats were thrown in the air, backs were patted and plastic smiles were replaced with real ones.

Patience had been wearing a bit thin in the yard leading off Powder House Lane. The engine shed had not been a happy place, there had been many changes made on the footplate. Claims had been made that some boilers had not been cleaned regularly, essential maintenance had been delayed, a number had been unable to raise steam, and some were receiving tender loving care and put on light duties.
Unfortunately every time a train ventured onto the main line they were unceremoniously shunted back into the sidings and the mutterings started afresh. Variations were tried with the rolling stock available but whatever combination was tried it didn't work. Sometimes the couplings came loose, carriages became stranded and occasionally the emergency cord was yanked prematurely.

Four minutes after the flag was waved the Vale of Lune had shot into the lead. Lee Acton built up a head of steam to charge down a kick, Gavin Barton, always hard working and busy, swooped on the ball to tank his way over. Adam Armstrong converted and twelve minutes later speared a penalty kick through the upright gantry.
The second try belonged to the three quarters, those sleek, streamlined expresses. 'We want a run, we want a run, we want a run,' they bellowed in unison. Clickety clack, clickety clack, clickety clack went the ball  through the hands of James Bryan, Owen Hughes, Andy Garnett, the snorting Ian Bird before reaching James Hodder. Now James is a bit of a dasher, with the signals in his favour and the valves lifting, he went with a whoosh to complete the scoring; a really useful engine.

Freight trains don't have the romance of the Flying Scotsman or the Duke of Montrose, a little like the contrast between forwards and backs. Vale's third try in the sixth minute of the second half belonged to the work horses of the team.
'Toot!, Toot!, Toot!' went Mike Huntington. 'Grunt, Grunt, Grunt' went the forwards as Tyldesley were railroaded over their line. 'Thank you very much' said Malcolm Fowler as he tunnelled his way over for his try.

The pack became a hissing leviathan, rattling through the opposition, 'Freight train, freight train going so fast' they screeched. They sent Tyldesley's defenders tumbling end over end. Lee Acton emerged, wiping the soot from his eyes, wreathed in smiles, to claim his first senior try which Adam Armstrong converted with a swirling conversion as the telegraph wires hummed their approval.

With eight minutes remaining Andy Garnett, throttle wide open, the pistons a silver blur, careered down the middle as graceful as 'Mallard' when it raced into the record books in 1938. Within sight of the terminus Andy was derailed but Malcolm Fowler, who had chugged purposefully after the flying centre, grabbed the ball for his second try.

Later that night in the engine shed as the fires were dampened down, sandboxes were refilled, buffers polished, and Colette and Kathryn wiped everyone down with an oily rag, The Fat Controller picked his way over the gleaming rails trying not to damage his patent leather shoes; after all it had been a long session in the County Bar.
Choosing his words carefully, only balance sheets and playing records mattered in his world, with a twinkle in his eyes and the hint of a smile with his coat buttons straining with pride, he spoke to the company.
'We have an important excursion to Leigh looming up and must begin preparing at once. Track 29, be there on time' he bellowed.
With these words of wisdom he disappeared into the moonlight, leaving behind the aroma of a Cuban cigar as a warm, comforting silence, wrapped itself around the engines of victory.

Goodnight Alies everywhere. Goodnight

VALE OF LUNE: A.Armstrong, J.Bryan, A.Garnett, I.Bird (Capt), J.Hodder, O.Hughes, M.HUntington (Rep A.Macluskie 68) P.Jackson (rep L.Jackson 66) G.Barton, A.Cowey, L.Acton, L.Farnworth, J.Clarkson (Rep M.Speight 66), L.Ford, M.Fowler.

Match Ball Sponsors: Elwyn and Niall Watkins