All ship shape and Bristol Fashion

The good ship 'Martyr ' under the guidance of Captain Green and the 'Liners ' made its way across the Severn Estuary to Clevedon.

It was a good job the Crew had their 'wet' weather tyres on today as they became grounded on a wet mudbank South of Portishead.

On a narrow pitch with more Mud than a 1970s hits album, the boys sailed into Clevedon's Stadium, with all 'Hands' on deck.

I have heard of undersoil heating but this was the first pitch with an underwater one.

There was so much mud, I am sure the Hippopotamus from Bristol Zoo was spotted bathing in the centre circle at half time.

The poor linos had to wade through the quagmire that used to be a touch line to try and keep with play.

One Clevedon fan was heard to say that we only 'had the long ball' to rely on.

I am not surprised we used this tactic, as the ball died on impact when it landed with a thud and had less bounce than if we played in treacle.

Half time our players had to swap their shin guards for mud ones.

By then we were two goals up , firstly from Captain Invincible, who was the only Green on an otherwise Somme of a pitch ( no I am not swearing at the Portishead referee- Ownes) who found himself the only man who could move in the Clevedon cabbage patch, as the Muscles from Brussels slotted the ball home.

The second came from a penalty for hand ball in the box- a somewhat unusual decision , as I am sure it hit the defender on the bucket n spade first.

Kayne sent the keeper the wrong way but in fairness he was wearing rubber shoes from the nearby Somerset town of Wellington.

At half time, the game was pretty much over as a contest , as even the plastic owl on the top of the half- finished new directors box/ pillar box couldn't give two hoots.

In the second half , Clevedon must have changed into their wooden boots and made inroads into the muck as even their 'clogger' defenders ventured into our half.

Even if they offered our Goalkeeper Bradley little threat , as they were so far and wide with their shooting - that one hit a giraffe on the neck in the Clifton zoo enclosure.

I am sure Bradley was asked by the steward to pay up , because he was a spectator for most of the game.

Corey Jenkins seemed to be the only player capable of running on the muddy surface , as the Monmouth hovercraft skipped over the mud like he had been drinking red bull.

Attacking the Turnip End , he 'ploughed' his way up the wing, with the full back so far behind him he could only plant seeds in the holes left by his stud marks.

And then things inexplicably changed.

The management took off the experienced Richard Evans and replaced him with the Happy Hammer and all of a sudden we lost our shape.

It was a loss to me , as I could no longer shout Dick - Head every time a high ball was crossed in - as the referee might think I was complaining about his continual whistling which was more stop/start than a Malaysian Traffic Cop.

I think the Clevedon manager had taking a leaf out of Jose Mourinho 's book and was sending notes to the players using the carrier pigeon that inhabited the roof of the stand.

The first twenty minutes of the second half became a war of attrition, with both sides entrenched in the mud and only Corey and the Pigeon moving about above the poor surface.

It was incapable of flowing football, as the ball bumped slowly along , as the amount of water holding in the Old Sod ( sorry Phil no offence intended) turning what could have been a feast of football into a 'Severn Bore'.

But thankfully the game livened up as a contest after a defensive and keeper error led to Clevedon's tap in goal.

For the next 20 or so minutes , Clevedon pressed forward with more urgency but again the cloying playing surface meant that Merthyr were always able to speed the plough and block off and challenges, with Man of the Match Rewbury stopping any aerial threat and Dan Summerfield any incursion from the pig sty flank .

In the Second Half , Kayne McGlaggon was less effective.

I found out the reason why - he was warned by Bristol Airport Air Traffic Control that he was leaping so high he was interfering with the flight path of the Easy Jets landing.

His cause wasn't helped by the referee not protecting him, as Mr Portishead mised the fact on a couple of occasions that their number 5 was ducking under him , as he couldn't beat him in the air, leaving him to land with a splat in the bog - a bit like the SixtySixty coach toilet will look on leaving Cider Country tonight.

On a negative note, poor Prosser looked as he has pulled a muscle in his stomach or groin , as I think his ever growing beard got sucked into a patch of quicksand injuring the Holy Goal Machine.

I left the game cold ( despite my four layers and cavity fat insulation) but happy to have all three points with a slightly makeshift team , on a horrible surface .

Merthyr , I feel could have gone up a few gears if we had too and with the exception of the nimble footed Clevedon 10 who was lively all afternoon, against an average Bristol team who defended resolutely but had little to offer by way of cutting edge.

There will be tougher tests yet ahead in a few tricky away games but the tide is high and Merthyr show no signs of sinking come rain, wind , snow or as today in Mud.

Boz