Match Report: Creeves Celtic vs. St Ita’s – A Battle in the Thatch
Tom Kelly and his team arrived at The Thatch on a bright but blustery morning, ready for battle against a strong Creeves Celtic side. A ferocious wind tore across the pitch, and with it at their backs, the home team wasted no time in asserting their dominance. Before we had even settled, we found ourselves staring down the barrel of a 3-0 deficit within the opening 15 minutes.
Creeves struck with ruthless efficiency. Two wickedly whipped crosses carved open our defense, met with sharp finishes from close range. The third was a gut punch—Eamon’s slight clip on an opponent in the box seemed harmless, but the referee had no hesitation in pointing to the spot. The penalty was dispatched clinically, and suddenly, we were in deep trouble.
But adversity lit a fire in our ranks. Slowly, we clawed our way into the contest. TJ almost caught the keeper napping with a long-range effort that dipped and swerved in the wind. Callum and Jack Long combined well on several occasions, finding dangerous pockets of space, but the final shot eluded us.
Then, in the 38th minute, our persistence paid off. Martin whipped in a dangerous cross, and Jack Long—somehow, some way—managed to bundle it over the line with his knee. It was scrappy, it was ugly, but it was exactly what we needed. The fight was back on.
Just before the break, Darragh was called into action, bravely punching clear a swirling long-range cross to keep us within striking distance. We had the momentum, the belief—until disaster struck. On the stroke of halftime, PJ was shown a straight red for dissent. From a position of hope, we were now down to ten men, facing an uphill battle.
HT: 3-1
Even a man down, we refused to surrender. From the restart, we pressed forward relentlessly. Peter came agonizingly close with a header, and Jack was inches away from connecting with another teasing ball from Martin. The equalizer felt within reach.
But football can be cruel. Five minutes into the second half, Creeves struck again. A cleared ball was sent straight back into the danger zone, and Eoin McEnery pounced, rifling home his second of the match to restore their three-goal lead.
Still, we fought on. Eamon had a golden chance from a corner, but his effort flew straight into the keeper’s grasp. Then, with 20 minutes remaining, the final dagger was plunged. TJ Kelly fell awkwardly on the halfway line, momentarily halting play. Everyone stopped—except for James O’Connor, who took full advantage, running through unchallenged to slot home his second of the game. Protests rang out from the sideline, but the referee was unmoved. A brutal lesson: play to the whistle.
With the result all but sealed, we dug deep to salvage pride. Callum led the charge, pulling one back from the penalty spot after Paul was fouled. Then, in the 82nd minute, he delivered a moment of sheer brilliance—a thunderous 35-yard free-kick that rocketed into the top corner. A goal of the highest quality.
The final minutes saw half-chances at both ends, but the damage had been done.
FT: 5-3
A valiant effort in adversity, but a harsh lesson learned. Some days, football gives you hope, only to snatch it away.
Tom Kelly and his team arrived at The Thatch on a bright but blustery morning, ready for battle against a strong Creeves Celtic side. A ferocious wind tore across the pitch, and with it at their backs, the home team wasted no time in asserting their dominance. Before we had even settled, we found ourselves staring down the barrel of a 3-0 deficit within the opening 15 minutes.
Creeves struck with ruthless efficiency. Two wickedly whipped crosses carved open our defense, met with sharp finishes from close range. The third was a gut punch—Eamon’s slight clip on an opponent in the box seemed harmless, but the referee had no hesitation in pointing to the spot. The penalty was dispatched clinically, and suddenly, we were in deep trouble.
But adversity lit a fire in our ranks. Slowly, we clawed our way into the contest. TJ almost caught the keeper napping with a long-range effort that dipped and swerved in the wind. Callum and Jack Long combined well on several occasions, finding dangerous pockets of space, but the final shot eluded us.
Then, in the 38th minute, our persistence paid off. Martin whipped in a dangerous cross, and Jack Long—somehow, some way—managed to bundle it over the line with his knee. It was scrappy, it was ugly, but it was exactly what we needed. The fight was back on.
Just before the break, Darragh was called into action, bravely punching clear a swirling long-range cross to keep us within striking distance. We had the momentum, the belief—until disaster struck. On the stroke of halftime, PJ was shown a straight red for dissent. From a position of hope, we were now down to ten men, facing an uphill battle.
HT: 3-1
Even a man down, we refused to surrender. From the restart, we pressed forward relentlessly. Peter came agonizingly close with a header, and Jack was inches away from connecting with another teasing ball from Martin. The equalizer felt within reach.
But football can be cruel. Five minutes into the second half, Creeves struck again. A cleared ball was sent straight back into the danger zone, and Eoin McEnery pounced, rifling home his second of the match to restore their three-goal lead.
Still, we fought on. Eamon had a golden chance from a corner, but his effort flew straight into the keeper’s grasp. Then, with 20 minutes remaining, the final dagger was plunged. TJ Kelly fell awkwardly on the halfway line, momentarily halting play. Everyone stopped—except for James O’Connor, who took full advantage, running through unchallenged to slot home his second of the game. Protests rang out from the sideline, but the referee was unmoved. A brutal lesson: play to the whistle.
With the result all but sealed, we dug deep to salvage pride. Callum led the charge, pulling one back from the penalty spot after Paul was fouled. Then, in the 82nd minute, he delivered a moment of sheer brilliance—a thunderous 35-yard free-kick that rocketed into the top corner. A goal of the highest quality.
The final minutes saw half-chances at both ends, but the damage had been done.
FT: 5-3
A valiant effort in adversity, but a harsh lesson learned. Some days, football gives you hope, only to snatch it away.
