Sunday 29 October 2017

Forest Green Rovers 2-0 Morecambe, Saturday 28th October 2018


Forest Green Rovers 2-0 Morecambe (att. 2,515 )

Welcome to ....

One of the advantages of Sheffield Superclub’s (Sheffield Wednesday's) ludicrous pricing policy is that one doesn’t have to pay £36 to see one’s club at their Victorian hovel in a second division fixture, one can go on a groundhop. So it is that today I’m off to Forest Green Rovers, and, even better, I’m to be joined by The Captain, fresh from the Hampshire sticks in his own bid for 92 glory. After Forest Green, I’ll have 4 more to go: Stoke, Bristol Rovers, Accrington and Bury.


The Big Match Live.

I was very pleased to see Forest Green get promoted, though it does continue a recent pattern of clubs bankrolled into the league (Crawley, Fleetwood, etc) while traditional (northern) outposts go by the wayside (Hartlepool, Darlington, Tranmere). But at least Mr Forest Green is making his money in the right way, through ‘green energy’. And another reason to visit here ASAP is before he realises his ambition of building a new 5,000 stadium entirely of wood.

A glimpse of the stadium through the housing.

Of course, a visit here is unique in many senses. Based in the village of Nailsworth, there’s no smaller place boasting of a league side. And there’s no trains to Nailsworth, so, unless you drive or come by supporters coach, you’re almost certainly coming via Stroud, about 4 miles away. With The Captain arriving an hour after me, I was able to have a good nose about. While Stroud looked a vaguely prosperous market town, it was noticeable that half the pubs had shut down. Shame. The local Oxfam had an excellent selection of books, however.

Nailsworth's clock tower resplendent in a wreath of poppies.

Once The Captain arrived, we reposed to the Wetherspoons, before wandering through town for a bus to Nailsworth, the #88 as I remember. Or was it a 63?  Despite being tempted by having a beer in one of Nailsworth’s pubs, we made the correct decision in staying on till the end, to Forest Green’s ‘New Lawn Stadium’….which is based at the top of a very large hill. Maps tend not to show you the hills you have to walk up! (OK, maybe Ordnance Survey ones do…)

A nice touch from the food stall.

We’d done our homework though and knew the stadium had a social club, and what a fine example ‘The Green Man’ is. Sizeable, a big screen showing Sky (Man U were on, for a change), local ales on tap from the Stroud Brewery and the legendary vegan ‘Q pie’. You could even see the pitch through the serving hatch. Naturally, I had to have one of these non-meaty delights and…actually, it was rather nice. Certainly better than the steak and kidney I’d eaten at Oakwell the week before. Mind, speaking to a local, it was an open secret that the players enjoyed regular forages to the local Greggs for their animal fix. This despite the programme being a virtual vegan manifesto. From what I garnered, the local vegan society has its own football team…

The Green Man

What with it being such a beautiful day, we elected to stand on the away terrace, which ran all the way down one touchline. We were Shrimpers for the day! And Morecambe had brought a decent amount, over 100. The ground itself is small, but perfectly formed, with two small covered end terraces and a cantilevered main stand opposite. If I’m to be harsh, I guess it wouldn’t put them out too much to give over some of that terraced cover to the away fans; I’m guessing the weather isn’t always perfect, even in the Cotswolds.

The view along the terrace.

It wasn’t a classic, as befits two sides struggling at the wrong end of the league, but Forest Green won through. A simple give-and-go put Marsh-Brown through to nutmeg the keeper on the half hour, before a second half inswinging free kick was destined to creep in, whether someone got a touch or not. 2-0 and comfortable victory for the home side. All that was left was a return to the Wetherspoons and a mixed grill. I wasn’t taking the p***. I just fancied one. A lovely day out in the countryside.

The TV gantry-cum-scoreboard.

The Damage:
£18 Ent (standing)
£3.80 dayrider (bus)
£25 train
£3 prog
£?? Q pie
£?? Beer x 2.
= £49.80 plus beer and food. Problies another tenner or so.


Forest Green v Morecambe panorama.
Further green/Green credentials in the social club.

The North Stand.

This fella is one scarf short of a club shop.

The South Stand.  Teenagers and a drum.

What IS that thing in the corner?  A giant compost bin?

Match action.

Of all the places...The Captain MUST stand here.

The Main Stand.









Thursday 26 October 2017

Miami Dolphins 0-20 New Orleans Saints, Sunday 1st October 2017

Miami Dolphins 0-20 New Orleans Saints, att. 84,423

Welcome to .....

Many months ago, tiring of slagging off a sport I’d never seen live, I agreed to go to a game, with a couple of American football aficionado friends. It seemed like a good idea at the time – October was a long time away, and, you never know, I might enjoy it. So it was that I was trekking up to Wembley on a Sunday morning when I could have been in bed, to watch a sport I couldn’t care less about, amongst thousands of people who, for whatever reason, think the Yank version of football is better than association.

Every team bar the ones who're playing.

Five of us met up at a cod-South American bar eaterie in the Wembley shopping centre. It was all a bit plastic, but it was nice to have a seat and a beer. After introductions, ‘we’ve told them all about you’, it was off to the match, where Sarah (or was it Jenny?) wasn’t even allowed up the steps to the stadium for having the temerity to have a handbag. So off the ladies trotted to drop off said offending article at a warehouse, while we gentlemen did the gentlemanly thing and went in. We wanted to see the rendition of the anthems, after all!

The teams come out. Yankee Doodle Dandy!

Would these American footballers ‘take the knee’ or would it be a complete non-event? Twas the latter – and I had to stand through our own dirge of a national anthem too. Note to self: miss more kick offs. We waved our free sparkly Dolphins flags (well, I didn’t, someone had thankfully nicked mine) as they were the home team. One good thing I liked though, thousands of fans coming together in the shirts of their adopted team, all in the name of American football. I can see why London will (probably) get their own NFL franchise soon.

Surely everyone should be supporting the Saints???

The action started. Then it stopped. Then it started again. Repeat to fade. I reasoned very early on that this really isn’t a sport worth watching. Why else employ cheerleaders to take your mind off the match? Half time neared and the game was still scoreless. I became hooked. Was I the only spectator hoping for a nil-nil? A scoreline which, the internet told me, had never happened since the modern advent of the Superbowl. COME ON! NIL NIL!

Sadly, I was put out of my glory with half time looming, the Saints hitting a field goal. (Hark at me! A ‘field goal’!) Dammit. Time to go and get a 2nd overpriced beer of dubious quality. I love Wembley.

The Dolphins line up.

Second half was more of the same. The Guardian reported the match as ‘an error-riddled, penalty-strewn, stodgy stinker of a match between two teams the wrong side of average’.  My friends concurred. This was abysmal (even by American football standards?) I was the only one who seemed happy; it was everything I’d imagined. And I’d paid £55, plus a tenner for a programme, for the pleasure. I am an idiot. But you’ve gotta do everything once. (FYI: Horse racing is s*** as well.)

Home time.  Thank god for that.

The Damage:
£55 ent
£10 prog

One fan looks pleased with himself.

And now, for the main event...

They do a lot of standing around in this 'sport'.

The Wembley vista.

What would you rather watch?

More 'action'.

How many idiots can you fit in one place? (Note how many had gone.)

Full time.  Joy!


Wednesday 25 October 2017

Arsenal 2-1 Norwich City, Tuesday 24th October 2017

Arsenal 2-1 Norwich City, AET (att. ’58,444’ – not in a million years)

Welcome to ....

A dream draw in my household, as a week off work coincided with the 4th round of the ‘Carabao Cup’ and my partner’s team, Norwich, being drawn at the Emirates. Even better, tickets were a tenner, a far cry from t’other year, when I looked into a similar Canary venture to Old Trafford, where the home side were charging £47. We didn’t go to that one.

This claim used to amuse me at Highbury too.

I have a number of Arsenal season ticket holding friends, and, despite Norwich immediately selling out their 5,000 allocation (later increased to 8,800), tickets were easily procured in the home end. Jolly decent tickets they were too, back of the lower tier, near the halfway line, somewhere behind Arsene. I did ask would we be ‘Arsene in’ or ‘Arsene Out’ today? ‘I love him, but he should have gone 5 years ago.’ Like every other neutral, I look forward to seeing what happens to the Arse(nal) after Wenger leaves. I should imagine the same as now, but without the attractive football.

The teams line up.  Obvs I wasn't at my seat yet.

Of course, the Emirates, or ‘The Library’ is a grand stadium, of that there is no doubt. Though the floodlights are in one’s eyes, in the lower tier. I’d have preferred the upper tier (£20) but my mate didn’t think 4 hours was a quick enough response time for an e-mail and jumped in with the lower tier. Still a good view of the pitch, and the widest seats in the league (allegedly). Certainly very comfortable, and again, favourably compares to the last time I was at Old Trafford, where they really wedge you in (or is that just the away end?)

Looking towards the away end.

The programme was a bargainsome £3.50 and full of the kind of tittle tattle I enjoy, such as this being Arsenal’s 7th home match of the season, each one having been played on a different day of the week, surely some kind of record. Also, it was Andrew Madley’s 1st Arsenal game he’s reffed. This may mean nought, ‘cept he’s the older bro of Premiership ref Robert Madley. At least Andrew kept with family tradition, denying Norwich a certain penalty in extra time (Robert had denied West Brom another stone-waller the other week). Oh well.

Arsene prowls the technical area.

Norwich went ahead after half an hour or so, the Murphy twin they didn’t sell to Newcastle latching onto a throughball while the keeper (debutant Macey) dithered. Thereafter, Arsenal Arsenalled it around without looking too dangerous, while Norwich lined up on the edge of their own box and failed on the odd break. Then, with 5 mins of normal time remaining, Arsenal brought on some unknown youngster (Edward Nketiah). Wow! The reaction was immediate, with Nketiah equalising from close range with his 1st touch, then bagging the winner in extra time, a header off a corner. ‘Eddie, Eddie’ sang the home crowd, while other members of the fraternity got on their iphones to find out whothehell he is.  (yes, Jo, I mean you!)

'He is widely considered the best player of all time' ho ho.

There was still time for Eddie to have a couple of shots at the hattrick, before Norwich were denied a penalty when their wide man was barged over by Debuchy, French international fullback that he is. Of course it was no penalty. There’s no way an experienced Arsenal player would need to foul a Championship plodder. (We’ll ignore the earlier foul by Elneny when Norwich looked like going clear, a yellow rather than red. At least the ref spotted it was a foul).

Arsenal and Eddie celebrate.

Then, with a minute left, the move which should cement Eddie’s place in a future Carabao Cup game: when breaking with only one defender in front of him, he ran it to the corner flag. Premiership class. It was time to leave, to back street Cuban boozer (only in North London) ‘El Commandante’ where I drank a delectable local brew, an IPA, ‘N7’ (see what they did there?) while everyone else drank that brew beloved of Fidel, Che, et al - San Miguel. A thoroughly pleasant evening all round.

This fella could still problies do a job for Arsenal, eyes closed.

ps, re: the official attendance. How can it be 58,000 odd? Most of the upper tier (save for the away end) was empty. And with the season tickets not including the league cup…I’m puzzled. I’d have thought c.40,000.

The Damage:
£10 ent
£3.50 prog
£5 hot dog (no onions; they were 30 pence extra)
= £18.50

Arsenal v Norwich panorama.

Where's Wally?

Sunday 22 October 2017

BFC 0-1 Hull City, Saturday 21st October 2017

‘Ze answer, my friends, eez blowin’ in ze wind’
Walking towards the Theatre of Doom.
After a couple of decent results in our last 2 games, in come struggling (but not as struggling as us) Hull City Tigers.  Surely a game we have to give ourselves a chance of winning, and we do; Hecky has finally given us what we want, two up top. So tis our fault, as the ‘experiment’ proves a resounding failure.  Ugbo (reputed wage at Chelsea: £25k/week; reputed worth at Oakwell: £2.50/week) is hapless, never in the game.  Partner Bradshaw, who cut a very lone figure up front last week while being beaten up against Boro, uses the presence of a partner to hide behind defenders all day long.  I don’t know how he’s bagged 7 this season already, cos for me, all he does is stand still when balls are about to be delivered into the box.  MOVE IN FRONT OF YOUR MAN, MAN!  FFS.  Lineker and Rush didn’t score gazillions of goals while standing still.

The teams meet 'n' greet.

Anyway, I’m glad I’ve got that off my chest, cos after the match I was probably the least angry there.  They were s***, we were sh*tter (we lost!).  Reedy meantime was furious.  A Hull fan at the station said ‘I don’t know how we won that.  We were s***’ to which Andy told him ‘I DON’T CARE!’ before turning his back on said Tiger.  On the train to London I feared a fight with Terriers, as Andy (and Nice Guy Chris) were too loud too many times in pointing out how in all the years we’ve travelled up to watch the Super Reds, we’ve never seen any Huddersfield, until the day they beat ManUre in the Premiershit.  And to top it all, while Andy has a friendly conversation with a Forest fan in the pub in St. Pancras, another Forest numpty comes up and his opening gambit is ‘Call me a scab and I’ll punch you.’  Charming.  ‘I haven’t called you a scab this season’ Andy retorts (he never went to the midweek home game).  Berserker is back.

Tigers!  Tigers!

Course, I could understand his anger regards the game.  Hull didn’t have a shot on target, till they did…and scored.  What was it?  78
th minute or sumfing?  Even their fans at one point could be heard chanting ‘All we want is a shot’.  Jackson goes off injured and within a minute, a corner comes in, a player drops off, flicks it on and somebody who cost 7 million scores on the backpost.  Unlucky?  Hardly.  2 mins later, they try EXACTLY the same corner, only this time the guy with the 1st header has it saved.  Still, well done BFC.  We have turned a nailed on nil-nil into a defeat.  ‘But Davies never had a save to make, whereas….’  Whereas WHAT?  We had a couple of efforts scrambled off the line and a Ryan Hedges snapshot which surprised everybody bar the keeper.  It was poor fayre for the supporter starved of decent football.  Going 4-4-2 (Ugbo in for Potts) didn’t seem to help anybody as few Reds players impressed.  But at least I’d get to watch the HC Tigers in their tigery stripes.  That always helps takes the edge off the appalling play.  So they wore blue, obvs.  Crap all round.

The stewards attempt to disrupt a democratic protest.  Why?

*** Jackson.  Won everything.
** Williams.  Made a few tackles.


Fryers.  Made some great runs down the left.  Shame nobody bothered to find him.

Twitter MOTM:
 Williams, I think.
Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Jackson  2. McCarthy  3. Williams
Despatches:This will be short.  The forwards were s*** and the midfield created FA.
Onwards and upwards!

Away:
 c2,200
Drink du jour:
 Erdinger, vodka and orange, Camden Pale Ale.  
The Damage:
£23 ent£3 prog= £26
The Tunes:DJ Kicks: Manufactured SuperstarsDJ Kicks: Tiga


Barnsley v Hull City panorama.

The Ponty v Hull.

Welcome to ....

Toby hangs out in the East Stand.

Match action...a rare thing indeed today.





Sunday 15 October 2017

BFC 2-2 Middlesbrough, Saturday 14th October 2017

‘It wer shocking.  Had to change mi’ pyjamas.  Twice.’

An unseasonally sunny October day...

What a mental game.  2-1 up after 8 minutes, didn’t get a kick of the ball for the next hour, yet still missed chances to win the game.  ‘Football’s a fanny old game, saint.’
Expecting the Old #7 to be busy, what with Middlesbrough 'bringing 2.5million by coach’ (Phil), we decamped to the Arcade Ale House.  Made a pleasant change, though they no longer have Brooklyn on tap.  ‘We don’t often get lager drinkers in here’ she said.  Well, no, not if you don’t serve it.  Thankfully they had some in bottles.

Grove Street turnstiles.

Got a rare phonecall from Pops.  Given it was 1pm and it was from his home phone, I deduced he wasn’t making the game.  Southbound M1 shut, and it’d taken him 2 hours to crawl 15 miles.  He gave up and went home.  I don’t blame him.  Later, I noticed quite a few Boro coaches arriving close to kick-off, so there was obviously a problem.  

Today, Matthew, Boro were coming as a ‘Big Team’.  They’d sold out the away end, though for reasons I can’t fathom, it seems we’re not allowed to sell 1100 tickets in that stand anymore.  What’s the point of building it?  Personally, I’d have sold them that empty chunk of the West Stand.  The more the merrier, especially at 30 pounds a pop.  Daylight robbery, BFC.  (Or was that only Katrin’s ticket in the East Stand?)  Anyway, good to see BFC bring back that 5 game ticket – just after Katrin had shelled out for 4 different home games. 

The Boro hordes.

Thus, without Marshall snr, I went upstairs 1st half.  Personally, I have no clue why people elect to sit downstairs when the view is so much better above.  Especially when you sit down in time to see a corner swung in and the ball cannon in off Bradshaw’s head.  Only it wasn’t Bradshaw, it was Ashley Fletcher of the Boro, presumably thinking he still plays for us.  2 mins in, 1-0.  F***ing yes!  The 1st 5 mins was all Barnsley (!)  Cue Boro to equalise with their 1st foray into our half.  We prove our defending can be just as bad as Boro’s as a loose ball off a corner is scuffed home.  Now, perhaps if we had a man on the post…’Who are yer?  Who are yer?’ sang the Smoggies just to my right.  Galling.

Looking towards the old Main Stand.

Not to worry.  Zaki Fryers (the new Kpekewa, as far as defending is concerned) drives forward down the left, the ball is laid off and the cross is headed home by an onrushing McGeehan.  Echoes of last season’s lightning breaks.  ‘Who are yer?  Who are yer?’.  Arf arf.  Such a barnstorming start broke the scoreboard and at the rate things were going, this could be headed for six-apiece.

The scoreboard, just before it gave up the ghost.

However, the game took a turn.  Boro retained possession after possession and for an hour it was all about how we could stop them scoring.  I don’t know how many times this routine was repeated, but I can summarise it thus: we would lose the ball.  Everyone apart from Bradshaw would leg it back behind the ball.  Boro would pass it around 6, 7, 8 times.  A Barnsley midfielder or centre half would win it back.  They would give it back to Boro (occasionally via a hoof to Bradshaw’s head).  Repeat the process.  The last time I saw a BFC team work this hard was probably the Chelsea quarter final.  But we couldn’t find our own players with the ball, so whichever of our players won the ball the most, must have lost the ball the most.  I couldn’t see how we could last.

The Barnsley bench, sans Hecky (suspended).

Half time came, 2-1.  Got a text from Wadd: ‘I don’t know how we’re winning this game.’  Me neither, if truth be told.  Decided 2nd half to sit in my usual seat, so’s I could get out of the ground on time and make the 17:12 to Wakey.  Saw Anton and asked if he fancied taking my dad’s place, but he was too superstitious to give up a winning position.  ‘I’ll see you in the 55th minute, then’ I said.  I was only 4 minutes out.

The second half began as the last half hour of the 1st ended, with Boro having a staggering amount of possession.  Hecky (enjoying the view from the stand?) persisted with 4-5-1 but as we continued to look out of our depth, he went bold: on came Thiam for Potts, 4-4-2.  We enjoyed our best spell since scoring, so it was with some irony that we got done a couple of minutes later, a fast break down the left from Boro ending with £15m Britt Assombalonga slotting home.  That’ll teach us to attack. 

The banner, temporarily moved to the West Lower.

Course, the Boro tails were up now, but I remained optimistic; their pushing for a winner might leave gaps on the break, and while Davies made 3 excellent saves, Thiam hit a couple of 25 yarders on target, dragged an easier chance wide, and then, with another break, Barnes hit the far post when I could swear it was going in.  An intriguing game ended two-all.  We had dug in proper.  The stats say we had 33% possession, but for huge swathes of this game, it was around 10%.  Well done Reds.  I am more optimistic about our chances this season than at any time thus far.  
Onwards and upwards!
*** Jackson.  Tremendous.  Best game he’s had in a Reds’ shirt.  Stuck tight to his man, won every header.  Obviously had something to prove against his old team. 
Twitter MOTM: Fryers.  Can’t defend, but had a hand in both goals.
** McGeehan.  As well as notching it was his sheer workrate, constantly getting back in position when we’d lost the ball.  There’s a reason he’s ousted Moncur.
Davies.  Ok, he tried to set Boro up by throwing the ball straight to their forward, but otherwise a tip-top performance.  Great saves, excellent catches and even his kicks landed on the pitch.

Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Jackson  2. Lindsay  3. McGeehan


Looking towards the Ponty.
Despatches:
Starting with the defence, Lindsay was excellent.  So many Boro attacks stopped at him or Jackson.  Pearson improved 2nd half, tho neither him norFryers look capable of consistently stopping a cross coming in.  Fryers’ run for the 2nd goal was something else tho.  The midfield worked their proverbials off.  Just a shame that every time Williams won it, he’d give it back to them – invariably on the edge of our own box.  Later, he ran 25 yards to join an argument and get himself booked.  How very Scouse.  Talking of which, Hamill rarely gave the ball away, unfortunately, rarely had it to begin with, but again, worked bloody hard getting back into position.  Got a bit frustrated when Thiam took one of his long shots, while he was on the overlap, but, come on Adam, how many times have you done the same!?  Bradshaw arguably had a great game up top on his own.  I say arguably, cos he battled and battled and while he rarely ever held the ball up, it’s rather difficult when the defender keeps banging the back of your head with his arm.  Sadly, neither Premiership ref Lee Mason nor his linesmen could see any of this, despite several thousand Barnsley folk trying to help them.  Thiam came on and, like at Millwall, ran their defence ragged.  Suddenly, they couldn’t amble out with the ball, as he hassled and harangued them into booting it long or into the crowd, meaning we’d be winning the ball high up the pitch.  And he frightens the living daylights out of defenders when he runs at them, with his pace and power.  This guy could be the real deal – but I worry there’s no way he can play like that for 90 minutes.  I just love him though (love him)!  
That train back to Wakey.  It was like the Black Hole of Calcutta.  Sweat dripping off the walls, as the numbers were swelled by Boro, quite a few of whom we had to leave on the platform.  ‘I’m so pleased I live in Wakefield’ said a Boro fan on getting off the train.  There’s a sentence I never thought I’d ever hear.

Drink du jour: bottles of Brooklyn, vodka and orange, pale ale and Spurs fans at the Goods Yard, where we convinced one idiot that Katrin was taking Andy and I home for a threesome, ‘one for his size and one for his endurance…’

Away: 4,853.  A great turnout for the midtablers.

The Damage:
£24 train
£3 prog
= £27

The Tunes:
Vulnicura (Bjork)
Proxima Estacion Esperanza (Manu Chao)

Panorama v Boro.

The Super Reds take their plaudits.

The new improved Groggers Rest.






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