tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71592379748764571422024-03-12T22:55:27.734-07:00PARTIZAN BRISTLEpartizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.comBlogger86125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-48063680965152085232018-07-05T03:29:00.002-07:002018-07-05T03:29:56.502-07:00That's it, bye!<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 18.0473px; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="background: white;">Dear readers.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white;">Eagle-eyed followers of this blog will know that I’ve tried to throw in the towel once before already but this time it’s gonna be final.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white;">I say this for two reasons: one because I’ve just joined my first non-league love Bristol Manor Farm as club photographer and two because I’m expecting my first child in December, so I imagine I’ll be quite busy.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white;">Once again, my infinite thanks to everyone who’s read, shared and complimented this blog over the last three years. I’ve had a blast doing it.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white;">If you want to keep in touch with me, I’ll still be chatting about football on <a href="http://mixcloud.com/btsmpoddy" target="_blank">Daz and I’s new podcast</a>, on my <a href="http://twitter.com/tomvahkiin" target="_blank">personal Twitter</a> and on the <a href="http://instagram.com/partizanbristle" target="_blank">Partizan Bristle Instagram</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white;">See you at the match!</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black;">Tom</span></div>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-13655691676372283172018-06-20T09:59:00.000-07:002018-06-20T10:06:53.381-07:00CONIFA World Cup 2018<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">Saturday 2nd June:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;"><b>#79 Queen Elizabeth II Stadium, Enfield Town</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">Abkhazia 0 Kárpátalja 2</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;"><b>#80 Coles Park, Haringey Borough </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">Padania 8 (eight) Tuvalu 0</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">Sunday 3rd June:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;"><b>#81 Larges Lane, Bracknell Town</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">Kárpátalja 5 Tibet 1</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;"><b>#82 Arbour Park, Slough Town</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre;">Panjab 1 United Koreans in Japan 1</span></span></div>
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Just over two weeks ago, myself and my tame Yorkshireman Daz Knapton enjoyed a veritable feast of unlikely football in the form of the CONIFA World Cup, which took place in various grounds in and around London. Because this involved such a quick succession of new ticks, I decided to not bother writing an entry for each and instead use this opportunity to jump on the football podcast bandwagon.<br />
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Join us, gentle reader, for some unscripted, unrehearsed, authentic frontier gibberish in the first of an ongoing series of vaguely football-related conversations with your groundhopping heroes (us).<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="120" src="https://www.mixcloud.com/widget/iframe/?hide_cover=1&feed=%2FBTSMpoddy%2Fepisode-one-conifa-18%2F" width="100%"></iframe>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Also pictures: </span></div>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-45351914327659311702018-06-10T14:40:00.004-07:002018-06-14T13:50:25.311-07:00#78 Sandbach Community Football Centre, Sandbach United<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Ellan Vannin 2 Panjab 1</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sunday 29th April 2018, </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">CONIFA International Friendly </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Non-FIFA international football has had a tumultuous start to life. From those first fraught international tournaments in the mid-2000s through to the present day, the competitions have been beset by political squabbling, <a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20060621144624/http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/story/423444p-357365c.html" target="_blank">meddling from heavyweights in FIFA and the Chinese government</a>, low turnouts and the last minute patching together of increasingly tenuous geopolitical entities in order to make up the numbers (Republic of St. Pauli anyone?). A more established competition is the Island Games, played between the various hairy, rugged men that inhabit the island communities of Europe. This has been going on bi-annually since 1989 and has helped the Faroe Islands and Gibraltar obtain FIFA membership.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Since the dissolution of the New Federations Board in 2013, CONIFA (Confederation of Independent Football Associations) have been the big boys of non-FIFA and are about to embark on their fifth major tournament in the form of next month’s CONIFA World Cup which will be taking place in various grounds in and around London (despite ostensibly being hosted by Barawa). Daz and I will be travelling to the capital to take in some of these games so with little else on offer in the West Midlands, we decided to go check out a pre-tourney friendly between to of the better teams in the confederation. </span></span><br />
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Ellan Vannin are the national team of the Isle of Man, a small island in the Irish Sea where football has to compete with a very popular annual motorcycle race and something named Cammag, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFnHEzzpIes" target="_blank">which looks a bit confusing</a>. Ellan Vannin is not to be confused with the Isle of Man Official Football Team which is made up of players from Isle of Man Football League players regardless of nationality because it accepts only those with familial ties to the island. They currently sit 4th in the rankings.<br />
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Panjab represent the Punjab diaspora in the UK. They were formed in 2014 and made it to the final of their first World Cup back in 2016, losing 6-5 on penalties to Abkhazia. They are managed by former Oldham Athletic defender Reuben Hazell and sit at the top of the CONIFA rankings at the time of writing, despite once losing against something called Hashtag United. The team tends to play all over the West Midlands and today it was Sandbach United’s turn to taste some of that international glamour.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetqiJZQwn1v8_F23nrelSMbbE1RStXzEEWOoeTTjk3QM-h3dC2JKu-CHcZrRCN_EKDxUTabSpakFXVLH1OkowcWN7y_FePQzxvwsdWtSW_UHqORR3Zd9g-I2PAToO-0AGyxWP0Z2Fwc4/s1600/20180429_143934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetqiJZQwn1v8_F23nrelSMbbE1RStXzEEWOoeTTjk3QM-h3dC2JKu-CHcZrRCN_EKDxUTabSpakFXVLH1OkowcWN7y_FePQzxvwsdWtSW_UHqORR3Zd9g-I2PAToO-0AGyxWP0Z2Fwc4/s200/20180429_143934.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ3vZKZP7xhfT7aiGm9L-VIkdhIr41DZnvhpZ101MeoEicD8RZ66xuG5AGL3o560mZ6JL-KoWLTg2zHs4w5A1ahHotX95dKQ11pslIDZTdze0edhT0qE4j6IqjDGk6FGkj3fTGHMnfBTM/s1600/20180429_143353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ3vZKZP7xhfT7aiGm9L-VIkdhIr41DZnvhpZ101MeoEicD8RZ66xuG5AGL3o560mZ6JL-KoWLTg2zHs4w5A1ahHotX95dKQ11pslIDZTdze0edhT0qE4j6IqjDGk6FGkj3fTGHMnfBTM/s200/20180429_143353.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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Sandbach United’s ground is about as basic as you can get but then again they were only formed in 2004 and started out in the Staffordshire County League, so I think we can forgive it for being a little sparse. It can however boast a tiny metal seated stand with four rows of covered seating, weirdly positioned by a corner flag. Amazingly for something of it’s size, the minuscule stand has clear perspex windbreaks and is named the Colin Oakes Stand. It always amazes me that so many of these very similar looking stands thrown up at non-league grounds across the country are named after someone. I can only dream of one day there being a lump of corrugated iron bearing the name The Tom Meadowcroft Stand down at The Creek. Aside from this there are two bits of literal patio furniture which serve as covered standing sections behind the goal. Clearly where all of Sandbach’s money and effort has gone is the whacking great stone brick clubhouse with a tidy bar and lots of community space. It’s not exactly a cherished traditional ground but it does the job and that’s what you should expect from such a young club. The only hint of ramshackle was a humongous pile of discarded seats in the far corner of the ground.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sektor Shed</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best seat in the house</td></tr>
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Despite this being ostensibly Sandbach’s first ever international fixture, the locals weren’t enthused. A headcount revealed the afternoon’s attendance to be c. 18. It just makes you question your life decisions when it’s like this. Undeterred, we made our pre-match predictions: 3-1 Panjab for me and 2-2 Daz. Once again I’d like to stress, Panjab were at this point the top rated CONIFA team.<br />
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To their credit, Panjab seem nippy and skilful but the Manx are... large. Very large. None more so than their number 10. Who nearly nodded in a cross at 15 mins but for the safe hands of the Panjab goalkeeper. It was quickly established that Ellan Vannin’s sheer girth and physicality is going to dictate the terms of this feisty friendly. There are two yellows in the first 15 minutes: one clothesline and one possibly dislodged bollock.<br />
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On 23 minutes the Manx open the scoring. A fairly pedestrian effort hits the back of the net after several dazzling failed chances but they all count. Panjab follow this up by tinging the bottom of the post soon after wrestling the ball off a Manx goliath just outside the box. Panjab are a good footballing side but whenever they get to the final third they tend to pass it sideways and can't get that through ball. The Manx also love an interception and Panjab seem to love being intercepted. Our meaty island chums deliver a number of spectacular near misses from distance as the last action of the first half which ends 1-0 to Ellan Vannin.
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As previously mentioned the club has some very modern clubhouse facilities, to the point where the overall vibe was National Trust cafe. I’d also like to posit an open question to the world as to what the hell is going on in this club’s crest:<br />
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Both teams sub about 6 people at 50 mins which takes a bit out of the game for a while, although during this period Manx have a goal contentiously called offside. Shortly after this the energy reenters the game with a thwack as a Manx defender is on the receiving end of a kick straight to the dick. It’s been a remarkably genital-unfriendly friendly so far.
Weirdly, during a corner, the linesman started giving the Panjab players advice. "You're playing too deep lads!" he chirped as the corner came to naught. I know it’s not unheard of for a member of either team’s coaching staff to run the line in a pinch at this level but I know that this wasn’t the case here as the chap was wearing the very striking <a href="https://i.imgur.com/gD2JmnI.jpg" target="_blank">CONIFA World Cup 2018 Officials kit</a>™. Perhaps he just fancies himself a manager. I personally would’ve told him to do one.<br />
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Ellan Vannin manage a second goal in the 72nd minute. Another simple but well played shot, this one on the edge of the box. As Panjab throw everything at a consolation goal, Daz is called upon to return a wayward ball. Somewhat ironically this had ‘FIFA quality’ written on it. I imagined a FIFA executive turning up and demanding an immediate halt to this unauthorised imitation and popping the ball with his fountain pen.<br />
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Panjab get their consolation goal in injury time. It’s the nicest goal of the lot, a volley from the centre of the pitch just past the edge of the D that sails past the stunner and into the net. It’s too little to late though and they fall to defeat in this particular warm-up game. There’s still over a month to go though and I look forward to seeing what these two sides serve up in London.<br />
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-80349418528606068092018-06-10T13:57:00.000-07:002018-06-10T13:57:05.329-07:00Redux: Moss Rose<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Macclesfield Town 2 Dagenham & Redbridge 0 </b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Saturday 28th April 2018, </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Conference Premier</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Way back in the grim and distant past I visited the home of Macclesfield Town, Moss Rose, with my good friend <a href="http://pintoffootball.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Daz Knapton</a> to watch Bristol Rovers play away in a high-stakes late season game. It was Rovers' first season out of the Football League in 94 years and the Silkmen's third season back in non-league after a fairly remarkable 15 season stay in the bottom two divisions. Although that day ended in a goalless draw it was Rovers who returned to the Football League at the first time of asking after winning the play-offs, while Macclesfield would have to settle for sixth place, one position outside the play-offs, in a season plagued by financial worries. In fact when Macclesfield came to Bristol that December they could only raise three substitutes for the bench. Fortunes continued to vary for the two sides in the two seasons that followed. Rovers famously gained back-to-back promotions back to their historical level in dramatic fashion while Macclesfield slipped to a 10th place finish. The season after heralded a trip to Wembley in the form of an FA Trophy final but even then the Cheshire side were undone by meaty magician himself: former Macclesfield forward Jon Parkin and his York City side.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">This season though saw a massively improved and (<a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/football/article-5343537/Macclesfield-Town-fail-pay-stars-January-wages.html" target="_blank">relatively</a>) financially stable Macclesfield Town. With club stalwarts like George Pilkington and Danny “The Dome” Whittaker being joined by a gaggle of exciting attacking players like Tyrone Marsh, Scott Wilson and a certain Nathan Blissett, the Silkmen had already won the league by a large margin by the time of this final home game. Despite having no money (“We’re going up with a fiver in the bank” has been a very popular terrace chant down the Moss this season) Macc managed to beat the much larger former league side Tranmere Rovers to that fabled single automatic spot. Last time I came to the Moss Rose, I decided that for such an important game I wanted to be in the away end. This turned out to be a mistake as it was a bit of a dump. I swore at the time that I’d be back one day and the promise of a promotion party and a chance to stalk Blissett was too much to pass up.</span></span><br />
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It was an early kick-off so we had to set off to Stoke train station first thing via a lift from Daz’s girlfriend Sophie, who has been an excellent facilitator for this kind of nonsense for a while now. Up the Sophie. There’s something magical about following a team like Macclesfield when they’ve done well and you’re passing through neighbouring towns in their colours. Because they have no rivalries to speak off, everyone’s just delighted for you and Daz was getting well-wishes and back slaps long before we got to Macclesfield itself. This and some irresponsibly early train beers had left us in a buoyant mood. Such a buoyant mood in fact that I decided I’d better acquire a match worn fluorescent pink goalkeeper strip from a few seasons ago from the Official Macclesfield Town Jumble Sale™ situated under the main stand. As tinpot as this absolutely is, it was also great fun and a good idea from the cash-strapped Silkmen. They had everything from old programmes to balls to substitute bibs (should you ever require one of those). Unfortunately they didn’t have any copies of Pro Evolution Soccer 2, which was remarkably still being advertised in the toilets some 16 (sixteen) years after it’s release.<br />
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I’m happy to confirm that the rest of the Moss Rose is indeed a lot nicer than what I had uncharitably named the Skip End on my last outing (real name the John Askey terrace, sorry John). Daz had got us seats in the Henshaws stand so we would be able to dive into the McIllroy Suite for a drink and a viewing of it’s apparently spectacularly gaudy carpets at half-time. Unfortunately this den of drugget delights would be closed to the rabble this afternoon due to a sold out dining section. It is a very modern looking all seated stand and much like the East Stand at Sixfields, the club <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/football/2006/jan/04/newsstory.macclesfield" target="_blank">almost destroyed itself building it</a>. The small but hardy section of Dagenham and Redbridge supporters were stationed in the rightmost third of this stand, with the John Askey terrace being given over to smatterings of pay-on-the day Silkmen fans who drifted in throughout the first half.<br />
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The Main Stand is opposite and consists of a relatively small, raised, cantilever roofed seated stand which I’m sure has been there since time immemorial. This is wedged between a weird triangular barn and Butch’s Bar, so named after Richard Butcher who sadly died suddenly in 2011 while a Macclesfield player. There’s also a row of terracing in front of the stand that stretches the entire length of the pitch. The Star Lane End is the standard vocal fans section of the ground and consists of a covered terrace with a row of seats on the front which have been added recently, a bit like at Accrington Stanley. All-in-all I’d say that Macclesfield are using what little space they have to great effect. There were no long queues and nowhere felt cramped despite the bumper crowd, certainly not something you could say about the Memorial Stadium at present.<br />
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It was a relaxed but still fairly entertaining afternoon of football, with the Daggers rising to the occasion well. This might be something to do with wanting to give their travelling fans a good show on the last day of the season due to the <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/football/44332925" target="_blank">very uncertain future the club faces</a>. Keith Lowe bundled in a cross from Danny Whittaker (who will replace Jonjo Shelvey as the EFL’s baldest man after today) in the 44th minute but this was flagged for offside. Shwan Jalal did well to deny Michael Cheek’s header from close range early in the second half and Tyrone Marsh impressively managed to just miss the target with a low shot from the edge of the six yard box.<br />
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Dagenham had what looked like the opening goal on a plate in the 72nd minute as Luke Howell skipped over Jalal towards an open goal but some quick reactions and no small amount of luck, David Fitzpatrick managed to throw himself down on the goaline and snuff out the danger. Sadly for me Blissett was subbed in the 74th minute having not really had much input in proceedings but it was very much to Macclesfield’s benefit when Scott Wilson came on to replace him and decided to have an absolute barnstormer of a cameo. First Mitch Hancox squared the ball to Wilson at the edge of the six yard box for the shock sub to poke home, then Marsh sent in a cross from the right hand corner which the former Paulton man managed to direct towards goal with his heel, beating the flummoxed Mark Cousins.<br />
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They’re a quiet bunch at Macclesfield. The few spirited youngsters who invaded the pitch after the full-time whistle were subjected to an earful from the old timers behind us and an overzealous barmaid had many unsuccessful attempts at stopping a group of lads singing in the pub afterwards. It’s a small town and the select few who frequent the Moss Rose are an even smaller subsection of that. Even so, I was lucky to meet some lovely people and the celebrations carried on long into the evening, until I threw up on myself in the toilet. Viva Macclesfield! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every pub needs an industrial wood chipper in the corner. For rowdy patrons.</td></tr>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-6375927451828746942018-05-29T15:04:00.001-07:002018-05-29T15:04:48.835-07:00#77 Ball Haye Green Sports Ground, Ball Haye Green<b>Silverdale Athletic 5 - Ashbourne 0</b><br />
Friday 27th April 2018, Leek Cup Final<br />
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Another year another footballing weekender with the Dresden Debacle, Mr Daz Knapton. You’d have thought we’d seen quite enough of one another after braving the Western League Groundhop together early in the season and the Notts County/Sporting Khalsa double in November. However I am nothing if not a lover of the big occasion and with Rovers’ season long over, I’d been eyeing up the final game at Daz’s beloved Macclesfield Town for some time. Thus one more joint trip was in order before we hit the CONIFA world cup in the summer.<br />
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Squeezing in a game on the Friday where I could reasonably be expected to arrive in time was a challenge. We wussed out of meeting at Airbus UK Broughton’s Flintshire home an hour or so before I departed work as Google maps suggested it would be a stretch too far and instead opted for a low-level cup final close to Daz’s Stoke-on-Trent home. Contrary to how it may appear, the Leek Cup is not a competition waged entirely between the handful of teams that play in the titular small Staffordshire Town but the name given to the Staffordshire County Senior League Cup. The three divisions of the SCSL sit at levels 11 to 13 and have been contested in the past by teams such as Vodafone Stoke, Holt JCB and Featherstone Prison. It’s Premier Division contains Stone Dominoes, a team that Daz currently volunteers for as a “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-WQfvKSR-z4" target="_blank">Media Officer</a>”.<br />
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Ball Haye Green is a suburb of Leek and therefore nominally a place of it’s own. This was pretty surprising to me because Leek is already a pretty small place but then what would a major North Staffordshire population centre be without at least 12 town squares. The streets were insanely narrow, not helped by the fact that everyone had parked up for the night, so when it came time to squeeze past the local bus service I damn near shat my pants. Daz hooting “Ahh, you’ll get through there! Get on with it!” from the passenger seat didn’t help. Unsure if the ground would offer on site parking, we decided to take a trip down the oddly named cul-de-sac of Milk Street (eschewing the similarly oddly named cul-de-sac of Pump Street). If you thought Leek was twee, you ain’t seen nothing until you’ve taken a trip down Milk Street. Ball Haye Green is pure Coronation Street, with tightly packed West Midlands brown terraced houses as far as the eye can see. We were even accosted by a small ginger tabby named Bailey who had slunk down from a roofs, just to complete the effect.<br />
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Ball Haye Green FC are facing a bit of an uncertain future at present as <a href="https://www.stokesentinel.co.uk/news/local-news/long-serving-football-club-loses-1097437" target="_blank">the ground is set to be sold off by the landowner at the end of the season</a>. Without wanting to weigh in too much on a short blog, it seems to be another case that we’re seeing far too often in non-league these days where nearly a century’s worth of work by generations of locals to build a community asset is being sacrificed in the name of a quick buck. It’s a shame because it’s not a perfectly adequate facility with lots of retro charm.<br />
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Set right in the heart of the little suburb, wedged between houses and the iron walls of a whopping great industrial warehouse, the Ball Haye Green Sports Ground does it’s job as a level 11 venue with aplomb and in truth was better equipped than I was expecting, despite having the odd very tatty bit. I suspect that one of the prime motivators for the landowner deciding to cash in is the dilapidated clubhouse that sits on the road leading up to the club. It can’t have been disused for that long because there were still sunbleached BT Sport launch posters hanging in it’s windows but it did look like it had seen happier times. This is also true of the distinctly 1930s not-quite-deep-enough-concrete-trough-in-small-poorly-ventilated-brick shed style toilets in the corner of the ground, an architectural misstep if ever there was one. Next to a clapped-out car with it’s wheels missing.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm fixin' her up."</td></tr>
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A long luminous green metal roof stretches along the far side of the ground and in front of that imposing grey warehouse it does actually look like something of a main stand, the closest thing you find at this level anyway. There is also the slightest suggestion of a terrace, one step’s worth of wonky paving in front of rickety concrete panel walls tipped with with barbed wire. The brutal magic of pre-1970s facilities maintenance (or lack thereof). It’s very easy to imagine the lads of yore pour out of the factory behind and into the ground for training and the whole place feels steeped in history from the knackered loudspeaker on the changing rooms (painted luminous green of course) to the slightly archaic practice of having the subs benches on opposite sides of the pitch rather than next to each other, more on that later. The ground also boasts a king’s ransom of sturdy floodlights (even the standard four is far from a given at county league) and a rustic-looking refreshments hatch hawking them good North Staffordshire cheesy oatcakes and hot tea. Myself, Daz and the rest of the assorted smattering of oiks that filled the ground chose to partake in smuggled in tinnies in the late spring sun however, as this is the one thing the club couldn’t provide.<br />
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Somewhat brazenly for a County League side, Silverdale have adopted a home kit which is a near exact clone of the one worn by the Argentinian national team. Just as I was scoffing at this comparison, the Albicelestes knocked in their first goal of the night via corner which had fallen kindly at the feet of a striker after an ill-judged defensive header from Ashbourne. The forward wasted no time in deftly slotting the ball between the keeper’s legs. Not long after this opener, Silverdale nabbed a second from the same corner. The ball was crossed from the arc to the near post where it was first headed along the path of the crossbar and then into the net at the far post. Although I suspect that the first header was a mishit attempt rather than a worldie assist, it still ended up being a well-worked goal which left the little old lady next to be screaming “We need someone on the far post!” Bit late my love. <br />
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Half time arrived, the local teens piled into a corner shop for more tins, we went back to my car for the same, we gave Bailey another fuss on the way. Lovely stuff.<br />
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Soon after we’d resettled under the “main stand” Silverdale proceeded to notch twice in quick succession. The first came from the number 9 striking for glory outside the area and the second came as a result of a turd pass back which the keeper fumbled out for a corner. Amazingly, the result was another headed goal at the far post. I didn’t hear anything out of the old lady so one assumes she’d left in disgust by this point. Ball Haye Green is a club which subscribes to the now rare but most noble art of serving tea and coffee not in small polystyrene cups but in actual ceramic mugs, usually bearing the bygone crests of other local clubs or adverts for defunct building firms. We were amused no end by the club official wandering around the ground collecting empties and plopping them nonchalantly in his plastic bucket-o’-mugs ready to make their re-entry into the ancient hot brew ecosystem.<br />
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Despite being four down and in the final quarter of the game, Ashbourne continued to push hard for a consolation goal. They looked sure to achieve this as a forward got a shot over the onrushing Silverdale keeper from 20 yards out. However despite curving down promisingly towards the target, it ended up hitting the post. This was the most memorable of a succession of unfortunately spurned chances for the visitors. One person who was greatly enjoying the futile effort from the boys in red was the man stood next to us who was positively bellowing instructions and encouragement throughout, at a volume which betrays the acute lack of self-awareness that so often characterizes passionate football support. I spent a good while assuming the chap was the Silverdale assistant manager practising an unorthodox proletarian coaching style; namely sending himself to the touchline before the referee had a chance to tell him to calm the fuck down. Indeed it was up to the aforementioned local youths to perform this act of charity as his yelps became too much even for their surly, alcopopped approval. The odd daggered glance and insular murmur gradually evolved into a volley of abuse everytime the Silverdale Screamer wound up for another period of hooted backing. Not that any of this stopped him. Didn’t even divert his gaze. Nor did the presence of what I assumed to be his wife, stood soundlessly by his side with unblinking, far away eyes that simply said “help me”.<br />
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Eventually the yutes grew bored of heckling the Silverdale fan and instead found a new game in the form of watching their female ringleader attempt to spank the nervous-looking linesman’s arse whenever he ran past. I bloody love North Staffordshire. I meanwhile was delighting in watching Daz seethe at the referee who had apparently botched a game at Stone Dominoes recently. That’s one of the fun things about this level, everyone knows the referee by name and probably ends up watching them in action 10 times a season. Anyway I won’t name and shame the bloke but I will say that towards the end of the match he booked an Ashbourne player for (as far as I could tell) trying to intercept a goalkeeper clearance, the joyless nerd. Just to add insult to injury, a chunky substitute forward scored a fifth goal in injury time to make absolutely certain that Silverdale would be lifting the Silverware.<br />
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After watching an official from the Staffordshire FA struggling to make a rousing speech without a microphone in a big windy field, followed by the obligatory “Whooooooaaaaaaahhh!” trophy lift (and the forced half dozen afterwards because the local paper photographer missed his moment), Daz and I toddled off back to Stoke to consider tomorrow’s adventure. <br />
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-2406416488206341032018-04-27T17:10:00.000-07:002018-05-06T02:44:02.028-07:00#76 Kingsweston Sports & Social Club, Sea Mills Park<b>Sea Mills Park 3 - Shaftesbury Crusade 2</b><br />
Wednesday 25th April 2018, Bristol Premier Combination Premier Division<br />
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When I lived in Shirehampton there were four local football teams that I was aware of: Bristol Manor Farm, Avonmouth and of course Shirehampton but there was also one other little-known side in the form of Sea Mills Park. I had intended to visit them all while still a resident but despite several kind invitations from Sea Mills over Twitter, I somehow never got round to it. As chances for more football were getting fewer as we crept up to the end of April and armed with the knowledge that a visit to a most likely spartan sub-County League ground is best enjoyed in the warm weather, I stuck this meaningless end of season mid-table clash in my diary and swore blind I wouldn’t pass up yet another chance to complete the Portway Big Four.<br />
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While Bristol Manor Farm play their football mere minutes from Sea Mills train station, Sea Mills Park are based in the nearby suburb of Kingsweston, just to keep you on your toes. They play in the Bristol Premier Combination, a companion league to the Bristol & Suburban League that sits at levels 12 to 13 of the English league system. Info on the Millers online is somewhat sparse but I can tell you the finest hour of their 93 year existence was winning the Premier Combination in 2003/04 and spending three seasons in the Gloucestershire County League before withdrawing in 2007/08. Shaftesbury Crusade formed in the late fifties and are a bit of an enigma to me because their website hasn’t been updated since 2009 and the only place I can find in Bristol called Shaftesbury is Shaftesbury Avenue in Montpelier. However ‘The Shaz’, as they are apparently known, play their football down the road in Horfield at the Civil Service Club. As previously mentioned, this was a dead rubber game where fourth-placed Crusade can’t catch up to leaders Olveston United and sixth-placed Sea Mills are nowhere near - so nothing but a nice easy day out for me and a chance to relax and check out the facilities before another big weekend with Daz up in Stoke.<br />
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KS&SS is on Napier Miles Road, nestled between some very fancy looking old manor houses and the B4057. Apart from the road it’s a very quiet wooded enclave compared to the relative hustle and bustle of the Lawrence Weston estate. I saw lots of people had parked up on the roads outside but decided to chance my way into the car park, a choice that saw me battling my long-suffering Peugeot 107 up a small gravel hill and into what could only liberally be described as a parking spot. Nevermind though, I was finally in. The ground is as basic as they come, containing only two weather-beaten stone dugouts and white railing along three sides of the pitch (I guess cricket is played here too). In the distance past the unrailed side you can see another football pitch but with hard standing in short supply, I wasn’t about to conspicuously squelch my way round on the wet grass for a closer look. There’s a big enough area of concrete to stand on by the clubhouse, with a couple of round bench tables dotted about. It’s actually a bit more protected than your average ground at this level because the roof of the clubhouse overhangs the standing area and could provide shelter for your huddled masses in a pinch. Most of the patrons chose to watch the game through the clubhouse windows when it got a bit cold though, an option I would have appreciated several times during my groundhopping career so far.<br />
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The game kicked off and I could tell straight away that it was going to have everything you'd want from a match at this level. Park’s veteran big bald goalie prowled his area, bellowing ‘KEEPURRRRS’ before clearing a ball with a wallop that would cause Idris Elba himself to instinctively cup his bollocks. Today’s ref was wearing a pair of Eric Morecambe specs and looks like he might work as a resistant materials teacher during the day. An eyebrow-raising moment early on saw a Sea Mills player throwing the ball back to the side and asking for “one of ours” instead, as if it would make a difference on the daisy covered pitch. The Millers dink in their first goal of the evening five minutes in from a cross, before immediately asking for the ball to be swapped again.<br />
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Despite this early strike, the home side were constantly under pressure during the first half and it took a not quite goal line clearance from Sea Mills’ ginger number 3 to prevent a Shaftesbury shot on an open goal levelling the standings. At this point I realised I’d seen a number of these Sea Mills players before, of course there was the livid keeper but also the bouffanted right-back, Frankie who I’d seen score a consolation goal against Henbury nearly three years ago in the Evelyn Rowley Cup. I also eventually realised I was watching another local character in the form of King Aggi, who was playing up front for the Shaz. Aggi is notable for being possibly the only man in history to rap about suburban league football via his minor internet hit <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GTkrEy4OHyA" target="_blank">Everyting Red</a>, although he’s now turning out for Shaftesbury rather than Lebeqs. Clearly a man who loves his football. <br />
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Number 10 for the Shaz equalised after his teammate nicked the ball off a ponderous defender and dribbled it past the Millers goalkeeper who'd committed himself to the floor way too early. He was characteristically stoic about the whole thing. A King Aggi-fronted attack saw the forward tear down the wing and try to put it wide of the keeper who managed to palm it away. Shaftesbury didn’t react quick enough to take advantage of this rebound. Aggi notched his side’s second goal close to half time and seemed to be the focus of most of the Shaz’s build up play alongside his partner wearing the number 9, who would often hold the ball up well and generously lay it off for his fellow forward. One thing I noticed during the first half is that apparently technical areas mean very little in the Bristol Premier Combination. As I was stood level with the 18-yard box I noticed that the home manager had strolled up and stood in front of me to watch a corner, turning away and walking back to the bench in resignation as it went astray.<br />
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I popped into the clubhouse for halftime which is a compact but comfortable and modern bar with a pool table and your standard assortment of framed bygone squad shirts. I ordered a pint of Fosters which ran out halfway through being pulled. Lucky for me the Santa Claus-looking barman said I could have that one for free so I ended up with a pint and a half for 2.50. I had designs to take advantage of the warm for as long a possible considering I didn’t have far to walk but apparently half time in the Bristol Premier Combination is about five minutes so by the time I’d sat down I heard the whistle go. I suppose I could’ve watched from the window like everyone else but that felt like cheating somehow.<br />
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The Millers dinged the post with a headed effort from a corner very early on in a second half which saw a marked improvement from the home side. They put in a cross from midfield which drifted kindly into the box for a stray forward to wander onto and gently nod into the corner. It did look a little offside and the Shaftesbury goalkeeper wasn’t having any of it. It stood though and the spoils were even for the last 20 minutes. Eventually the Millers make it 3-2 from another headed corner. The fans go wild:<br />
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The home side spend the last ten minutes or so ahead but under pressure. Another goal wouldn't go amiss. Fortunately for them, Shaftesbury gradually go from probing to crotchety and spend much of the final period arguing with the referee before a player goes down injured, which all but takes the bite out of the game as the physio trots on with his magical healing bucket and sponge. A fitting end to a glorious evening of Bristolian amateur footy. <br />
<br />partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-12075461274092153922018-03-27T10:30:00.002-07:002018-04-20T06:43:52.598-07:00#75 Stockwood Lane, Bristol Telephones <b>Bristol Telephones 1 - Roman Glass Saint George 1</b><br />
Wednesday 14th March 2018, Western League First Division<br />
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Well readers, it's mid-March and I've only done three new grounds since the new year. I'm in serious danger of facing charges of phoning it in. Daz and I had decided to formally dial down our groundhopping race for the year as he'd taken up a position as media officer at Stone Dominoes and had less time for it. Let's be fair, he had a pretty sizeable lead over me anyway. To my relief, once the nagging knowledge of needing to do probably two or three grounds a week as well as watching Rovers was quelled, the previously-wavering urge to travel to out-of-the-way Bristol suburbs on cold Tuesday nights returned to me. Apparently it's never left my fellow Gas Groundhopper Chris Power and his mate Aaron who were well up for this one. Another draw was the fact that I'd been curious about this club for a while due to their rapid rise up the Bristol non-league scene and their slightly odd name. So off I went to Stockwood to ring in my 23rd Western League ground.<br />
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Bristol Telephones were formed in 1948 as Bristol Post Office Telephones and initially played in the Bristol & Suburban League. I'd spotted their unusual name from time-to-time in the Bristol Post and mentioned it to my Dad one Sunday afternoon. He seemed to think they were a BT works team, being a retired BT engineer himself. After digging around online I came across a Word document entitled 'Bristol Telephones History' which contains the sentence "<i>Playing at Bristol Civil Service Club, they had to leave that pitch when BT was privatised under Maggie Thatcher</i>" which all but confirms this. The vicious Gladstonian onslaught the country faced at the time couldn't stop the plucky club finding continued success at their new Stockwood Lane home which they moved to in 1984. After 65 years of slogging it out in that hallowed amateur competition they made the step up to the Gloucestershire County League in 2013-14. They won the league on their fourth attempt and made the huge step up to the Western League Division One last season.</div>
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I did worry slightly when I learned that the Phones would be getting promoted to the Toolstation, with their gates rarely getting beyond the mid-twenties and the fact that they started this season without floodlights. Even when they finally got the latter in they proved to be a tricksy beast, with more than one match getting called off due to malfunction. I feel that level 10 is really the level where you can't be arsing about anymore in English football. While Shirehampton can get away with nothing but a <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHcMhdjTVub95bAEeZ1-iYT48Y1fU53tLrf7eeBpdavi0bzCz1WqtQyO82wu01Jxyre16Bjni7qts8EMpGe_FaVonvsQIKaan8Ic-cckMISlj-87wYa5OXx0AMuXI25_R4PzV46GFsAuEM/s1600/20170204_153053.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1522257592323000&usg=AFQjCNHH0n7S-C4BGv1SqtSt061HluCf8w" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHcMhdjTVub95bAEeZ1-iYT48Y1fU53tLrf7eeBpdavi0bzCz1WqtQyO82wu01Jxyre16Bjni7qts8EMpGe_FaVonvsQIKaan8Ic-cckMISlj-87wYa5OXx0AMuXI25_R4PzV46GFsAuEM/s1600/20170204_153053.jpg" rel="noreferrer" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">structure that looks like a burnt-out bus shelter</a> and a tea hatch in the Somerset County League, the Western League requires such frivolities as an enclosed boundary, a clubhouse and at least one stretcher. That's not to mention the cost of transport and officials. However my uneducated notion would turn out to be nonsense as the Stockwood sensations currently sit in 17th place, a good 10 points above bottom-placed Warminster Town. However it's worth mentioning that along with East Cornwall's Callington Town, they have the joint-highest number of league games still to play in the country, a staggering 17 (seventeen) fixtures to complete at this late stage.</div>
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Roman Glass St. George (from St. George, East Bristol) have the distinction of being the oldest surviving club in Bristol, formed way back in 1872. They have in recent years been forced to relocate to <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/05/4-oaklands-park-gloucestershire-fa-hq.html&source=gmail&ust=1522257592323000&usg=AFQjCNEneEepy0Qb3ZV1ANOUemT1CwBkMA" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/05/4-oaklands-park-gloucestershire-fa-hq.html" rel="noreferrer" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Oaklands Park</a> in Almondsbury due to their traditional Whiteway Road ground not cutting the mustard (their reserves continue to play there however). As former non-league stars themselves (for Chipping Sodbury Town and Winterbourne United), Aaron and Chris were a good reference point for a lot of Bristol football trivia and apparently Whiteway Road has the biggest pitch imaginable; "hell if you're a wing-back and have just come from a day's work". The Glass came into the match second in the table, three points behind leaders Keynsham Town with a game in hand, so tonight was a big chance to put the title into their own hands. </div>
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I arrived to a packed car park and pulled up on the grass behind two players unloading equipment from their boot. I went into the clubhouse, had a can, met Chris and Aaron and had a chuckle at this sign in the toilet adjacent to the changing rooms: </div>
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There's not too much to say about Stockwood Lane, as a recently upgraded County League ground it's pretty basic but it gets the job done. There's a single covered seated stand down one side of the pitch and a very elaborate concrete sub bench/terrace thing which I couldn't work out how to access because the door to the middle bit seemed to be in a hedge. The rest of the ground is neat and tidy with hard standing aplenty, the only slightly tinpot feature being the hastily-erected wall of metal crowd barriers behind the near goal. Forgivable considering the club's relatively rapid rise and at least the see-through side of the ground wasn't right next to a public footpath like Longwell Green, so no chance of a skinflint local stopping to watch for free. </div>
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Out on the pitch the first thing we noticed was lanky bearded full-back Jake Cox turning out for Roman Glass. I thought he may have left Manor Farm on the sly but it turns out he's on a duel-registration. My companions were full of praise for this Bristol non-league stalwart who seemed to be playing in more of a wingback position for the Western League side. Bristol Telephones opened the scoring in the first half but unfortunately we didn't see it because we were in the middle of looking for shelter from rain. You're welcome. Roman Glass generally struggled to get back into the game after this surprise setback, their main offering resulting in a goal line scramble and eventual clearance. Don't ask me how the Phones kept it out though because it looked like an Andy Capp fight cloud from where I was standing.</div>
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By the 5th minute of the 2nd half Bristol Telephones were sitting what I'd describe as San Marino National Team deep in defense, apparently content to try and frustrate the league leaders for 40 minutes rather than see the game off with a second goal. This didn't make for good watching. Assisting the players from the sidelines were a gaggle of hooded yoofs giving the officials the absolute dog's abuse for every decision that went against the home side. Their zeal suggested to me that they were unused members of the team rather than Bristol Telephones ultras, mainly due to the fact that they were standing beside one of the coaching staff but also that I couldn't imagine a Bristol Telephones ultras group existing. What would they be called for a start? Hands-free Hardmen? Buzz Brigade? Sector #? </div>
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Despite these antics it was Roman Glass who were making their own lives difficult by spurning chance after chance. Too many to recall without making the blog too long but one that stuck out came from a decent cross from Cox that three red shirts in and around the box failed to get a leg to. That's no way to treat a Toolstation Campeón! Towards the end things got more fraught and physical, culminating in one beautiful moment where after contesting for a header a Phones player became squashed by his victorious adversary on his way back down, uttering a squeaky, plaintive cry of "Ref!" as he crumpled to the bottom of the dog-pile. No foul though. We thought Roman Glass had sussed it when a forward got on the end of a probing through ball and into a one-on-one situation but unfortunately he was undone by a high bounce from the bobbly pitch. </div>
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Eventually the visitors did get the goal they needed to spare their blushes as Jake Cox (who else?) smashed a blistering cross from the left across the edge of the box for one of his strikers who managed to get his head to it, score the goal and probably get some friction burns to the forehead for his trouble. I celebrate a little too hard and can feel the daggers in the eyes of Forza Fiber Optics in my back. Luckily for me Roman Glass immediately go back to being turd, managing to fire a corner into the side netting and spooning it wide from the box after playing the advantage from a penalty shout right at the death.</div>
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Ultimately a draw was a fair result but Roman Glass would probably be the ones going home annoyed with themselves, whereas the Phones could be happy with a cheekily-acquired point against a high-flying team thanks to defensive tenacity, an early goal and a little luck. I was pleased to finally satisfy my curiosity about Bristol Telephones and be able to say I've been to a riveting Bristol Weirdly Named Club derby. </div>
partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-31435031312729836582018-03-04T08:31:00.000-08:002018-03-04T08:31:20.404-08:00#74 The Field - Almondsbury<b>Almondsbury Ladies 6 - Oldland Abbotonians Ladies 0</b><br />
Sunday 25th February 2018, South West Women's Football League Eastern Division<br />
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The Field. <i>The Field</i>. Have you ever heard such a meek name for a football ground? I've been to plenty of venues that were basically just fields but even they tarted themselves up to some degree with a fancy name. <a href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/8-king-george-recreation-ground.html" target="_blank">King George Recreation Ground</a>, <a href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2017/02/44-penpole-lane-shirehampton-fc.html" target="_blank">Penpole Lane</a>, the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHg5SJYRHA0" target="_blank">Scatman John Memorial Hyper Glade</a> (okay that last one was made up) but anything is more exciting than "The Field". In any case The Field is another ground that I've long been curious about as I often see it as I pass by on my way somewhere else. In a similar way to The Creek which you get a superb view of whenever you travel into town on the Severn Beach Line, you can see tantalising glimpses of the ground as you travel north on the M5 past Almondsbury. Although I was trying to have a bit of a break from groundhopping, I'd had such a lovely day at Rovers the day before doing the <a href="https://twitter.com/Gas4Foodbanks" target="_blank">Gasheads Against Food Poverty</a> collection with John and Jade that I decided to squeeze in another game.<br />
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Almondsbury started life in 1969 as Patchway North End, playing just down the road in the town of Patchway. In 1971 despite having only existed for 2 years and being relatively young boys at this point, the club decided to change it's name to Patchway Old Boys. The move to Almondsbury happened in 1989 whereupon they took their current name and one year into the new millennium they joined the Gloucestershire County League after finishing as champions of the Bristol & Suburban League. In 2009, a few years after gaining promotion to the Western League, the club went into partnership with the University of Western England and became Almondsbury UWE. This meant that the club suddenly had a pool of potential student players to choose from but the initiative didn't bring much success, the club have pretty much been mid-table since. Last season however they finished 22nd out of 22 but avoided relegation, the partnership with UWE was ended in the summer and a fifth re-branding returned them to life as Almondsbury FC. Since the untimely demise of Almondsbury Town, Almondsbury are the only game in town in the South Gloucestershire village and rather cheekily go by the former club's nickname The Almonds. The Field is just across the road from <a href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/05/4-oaklands-park-gloucestershire-fa-hq.html" target="_blank">Oakland Park</a>, Town's former home and current site of Gloucestershire FA HQ. Information on the ladies team online is scant but they were in the league below (Gloucestershire County Womens Football League Division One) last season and finished as runners-up in the League Cup. <br />
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I turned up to the game about 20 minutes late because the entrance isn't the easiest to spot and missing it leads to an unfortunate and time-consuming diversion down the Almondsbury interchange. The football pitch is a fair walk away from the clubhouse (which is shared with a myriad of local sports clubs including Almondsbury Cricket Club) and by the time I got to the pitch the home team were already winning 1-0. It was an absolutely bitter afternoon and the fierce wind was causing a wind turbine on the touchline spin off it's hinges. This combined with the motorway running past the far goal makes The Field quite a noisy ground I must say. I guess it could be quite serene on a warm, still day with little traffic but today it served as a reminder of how built up the outskirts of Almondsbury is these days. The only two structures of a markedly basic ground are a funny little L-shaped covered seated stand which contains about 35 seats and room for wheelchair users below. There's also a tiny four step metal terrace with a roof, the kind of temporary-looking thing you see at a lot of grounds at this level. You do get a sense of seclusion despite the hum of the motorway due to the fact that the whole ground is on a raised grass bank that's accessed by stairs by the changing rooms below.<br />
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Once I'd established the score from a friendly local, I moved into the terrace in an attempt to stave off the chill. Not a lot happened during the rest of the first half but one glorious moment was the ample referee unfortunately finding himself in the way of a clearance and receiving the hurtling sphere square in the arse. As half-time was blown, I retired to the clubhouse for a pint in the warm. An elderly gentleman who was sat watching the Premier League game was joined by a young lad of about 5. The only bit of their conversation I overheard was "No you go out, it's too cold for Grampy today." I've got to admit I was with Grampy on this one and although I could see the game had restarted from the window, I took my time finishing.<br />
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I'd missed all the action of the first half but lucky for me (and this ailing blog) the second was a veritable goal bonanza. First off the tall Almondsbury number 10 who'd looked threatening for a while made it 2-0 when she latched onto a stray ball and moved into a 1-on-1 with the keeper who she slotted past from an angle. Not two minutes later this player had added her second as she lofted a cross into the box into the roof of Oldland's net. 4-0 comes as a player lobs the Oldland defence, including the onrushing keeper who is beaten back to the goal by a forward but even without her tap-in the ball was going to roll across the line for sure. The fifth comes from a fairly unforced Oldland defensive error, it's not been a good half for them. Just as I'm trying to control my shivering hand enough to note this down in my phone, Almondsbury score a sixth which I completely miss. Fucking hell girls, stop, they're already dead.<br />
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Despite this dominant display, the win only put the Almonds up to 4th in the table and the current leaders Wootton Bassett Town Ladies have played 13 and won 13. A promotion would see them duking it out with South Glos rivals <a href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2017/11/65-greenbank-road-aek-boco.html" target="_blank">AEK Boco Ladies</a> and Downend Flyers, they have games in hand against the top three and clearly they have terrifying ability on their day. Good luck to them.<br />
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-91947114905161212542018-02-16T14:29:00.000-08:002018-02-16T14:29:02.730-08:00#73 Rodney Parade - Newport County<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><b>Newport County 1 - </b></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><b>Morecambe 1 </b></span></span><br />
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It was exciting times in Gwent. Newport County, that much beleaguered phoenix club, were bracing themselves for a date with destiny. Having overcome Leeds United in a hard-fought 2-1 victory at their Rodney Parade home, they would soon welcome Tottenham Hotspur in a fourth round FA Cup clash, their first time in the fourth round since 1978/79. Before that though, the rather more pedestrian matter of this midweek league tie with relegation-threatened Morecambe. A mere 28 mile drive away from my Severn Beach home, Newport County has been a glaring gap in my portfolio for some time, especially considering my trip to <a href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.com/2016/06/27-newport-stadium-newport-city-afc.html" target="_blank">Newport City</a> last year where I literally walked past Rodney Parade on the way. The Exiles were offering £10 entry this evening in return for a donation to the local foodbank which was enough to tempt me along and an excellent gesture by the club.<br />
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The buzz around the place about the Spurs match as I entered was palpable. A huge queue had amassed outside the ticket office for the precious tickets and a few regulars strutted proudly in their new half-and-half scarves. Boy those market tradespeople work fast. The lady behind the counter seemed surprised when I asked for a ticket for tonight's fixture as opposed to the big'un but took the raffle ticket stub I'd been rewarded with at the gate in return for my small bag of cans and presented me with a boring old regular match day ticket. As I'm sure you can probably appreciate with the place playing host to County, two rugby teams (Dragons and Newport RFC), Newport Squash Club and probably some others, Rodney Parade is rather busy. This means you have to walk past the spare pitch and the squash hall in order to get to the football pitch. It was on this short walk when I first set eyes on a most beautiful sight: the Newport County Beer Gazebo™.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scenes</td></tr>
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This massive white tent, the kind you get at outdoor weddings, contained a well-stocked bar, ample lighting and seating, carpet and even a little wooden dance floor. As a Bristol Rovers fan I’m used to obtaining my matchday vittles from tents of various sizes but this one put our efforts to shame. I’m not even being snide, it was a nice place to be. A good idea for clubs that lack space for matchday hospitality in the stadium proper. I had exactly one pint of Brains Bitter (when in Rome) and moseyed on over the turnstiles. For some reason I’d always had the impression that Rodney Parade was all newfangled redeveloped stands haphazardly thrown together, à la <a href="http://www.times-series.co.uk/resources/images/2621478/" target="_blank">Barnet’s The Hive</a> but it does some some charming retro bits. The oldest-looking portion of the ground is known as the Hazell Stand and is for me the most attractive part of the place. It has a layer of raised seating above a standing terrace that runs the whole length of the pitch. The raised tier doesn’t stretch as far as the whole terrace so there’s a section of uncovered standing towards the home fan’s entrance. One quite quaint feature is the white painted wooden fence that lines the bottom of the seated portion, which makes it look like one of those lean-to verandas you find on houses from the American Foursquare era of US architecture. Drink it in folks, that’s the most intellectual sentence this blog will ever inspire. As if the gazebo wasn’t enough, there’s a small concourse that serves beverages underneath this stand. The only drawback is you don’t get a very good view if you stand to the far south of the terrace because of the tiny pyramid roofed building crammed into the corner, which houses the player’s dressing rooms.<br />
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Opposite this is the very Hivesque Bisley Stand. A grey cantilever roofed stand with a jarring array of yellow, red and black chairs arranged in a pattern I’m too stupid to understand. This probably cost them the most money out of anything in the ground and looks to hold yet more matchday hospitality facilities but I’m afraid it looks horrible. Behind the goal nearest the entrance in a small uncovered standing terrace which was in the middle of having temporary extra seating erected behind it, so it was out of action today. The opposite end to this contains a bank of green temporary seating. A cursory glance around Google images has shown me that Rodney Parade has changed a lot over recent years and is very much a ground in transition but considering I thought I was going to be spending this blog laughing at it’s higgledy-piggledy nature, I was pleasantly surprised by the Hazell Stand, where I found myself today. This might be due in part to the efforts of the small group of lads huddled behind an ultras style banner adorned with Amber Army who made an absolute racket throughout most of the first half. While this would ultimately die off as the slightly drab game dragged on, their initial efforts were up there with some of the best fans I’ve seen, bringing to mind the Stanley Ultras from a few years back. Also commendable in their own way were the c. 12 Morecambe fans that had braved this 448 mile round trip on a miserable Tuesday night. The mad twats.<br />
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There was a lot of enjoyable basement-division banter flying round as a pair of old ladies harangued vintage Morecambe winger Kevin Ellison on his perceived likeness to Jonjo Shelvey (a comparison the veteran seemed to quite enjoy). Also prevalent was Morecambe assistant manager Ken McKenna, who spent the majority of the first half cockling impudently on an ice box right in front of the home fans, responding to their various jibes by muttering “Ooooh Cymreee!” in an exaggerated South Wales accent. This tit-for-tat escalated and reached it’s peak after the first goal when the home crowd burst in unison into a chorus of “Fuck off Grandad, you’re Jim Bentley’s bitch!” (Jim Bentley being the first team manager). Considering Ken is an ex-semi pro with over 180 Welsh League appearances under his belt, not to mention a seven year stint managing The New Saints, I’m guessing the old-timer is just a lover of a good old-fashioned shithouse rather than a hater of our Celtic chums. Later the much gruffer Bentley began barking orders to his players, which prompted a chorus of what I can only describe as demented blooping noises from the home fans. No idea.<br />
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Anyway as previously mentioned my enjoyment of these hijinks was briefly interrupted by Newport’s first goal in the 14th minute from a slightly unexpected source, defensive midfielder Ben Tozer. Willmott received the ball in the top corner and pinged a ball into the box which Nouble tried to get a diving head to but missed. Luckily Tozer had strayed obscenely far forward and narrowly beat his marker to poke it past the Morecambe keeper at close range. It was off the back of a very attacking first period for Newport with the only Morecambe break I can recall being snuffed out when their diminutive number 10 is overrun and robbed of the ball causing him to shove an opponent in frustration. Any other half-chance they muster in the first period is either very tame and easily gathered or blasted over. It really didn’t look to me like Morecambe were going to create a goal today, they might end up capitalising on a mistake but they weren’t going to make one of their own I thought to myself, in a rare moment of fidelity. During the break I popped back out to the gazebo to stretch my legs. There didn’t seem to be anyone keeping track of people wandering around the place and I briefly flirted with trying to sneak into the Spurs game at half-time.<br />
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During the second half it became clear that the hosts were going to need another goal as Morecambe began to grow into the game and force a couple of more probing saves, forcing Newport keeper Joe Day out of his net to charge down a threatening attack at one point. County look to be sitting back a bit, possibly high on confidence after Leeds. This begins to frustrate their fans who demand shots from any player in a central position 30 yards out from goal. I began to wonder if years of Rugby had affected the way their brains perceive football. The hosts appear to be happy to sit back and wait for the counter, which was a far-cry from their dominant first half performance. Suddenly Day slides and takes out Garry Thompson in the box and the ref points to the spot. A clear penalty which Morecambe have won in the final 15 minutes of the game. Michael Rose steps up and calmly slots it into the bottom corner. The baker’s dozen of travelling Morecambe fans go wild. It’s all very funny. Newport chuck on big Paul Hayes for the last five to try and salvage the game but it’s no use. The Shrimps steal a point and as I’m watching the players leave the pitch a young linesman zips past me on a beeline for the changing rooms, pursued by a beetroot-faced middle aged man screaming critique at him. It’s the perfect ending really.<br />
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It’s a funny old game, football. It’s taken me so long to write this report that I’ve been able to reflect on the fact that I left Rodney Parade scoffing at the Exiles chances of getting anything but a pasting against Tottenham. However on the day they held Spurs to a 1-1 draw, with only an 82nd minute Kane strike saving the white half of North London from cringing themselves into oblivion. Still the FA Cup is an unpredictable beast by nature and I don’t see Newport getting promoted this season but they’ve certainly already set themselves up for better things in the near future. </div>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-13258616921705498212018-01-24T14:23:00.001-08:002018-01-25T03:31:14.597-08:00#72 The Elms, Highworth Town<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><b>Highworth Town 1 - </b></span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><b>Royal Wootton Bassett Town 1 (Abandoned after 57 minutes)</b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">Wednesday 10th January 2017, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Hellenic League Floodlit Cup Third Round</span></span><br />
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Contrary to how it may appear, not every one of my groundhopping trips is a well-planned, rip-snorting success. Occasionally they've been a testament to blind luck in fact. Arguably, with all the more local games for the week being called off due to weather, I should have considered a Wednesday night jaunt into rural Wiltshire to be too risky. However, the Yorkshire terror that is <a href="http://pintoffootball.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Daz Knapton</a> was still blazing ahead of me in the new grounds steaks so I decided to take my chances.<br />
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The fare on offer wasn't the most exciting either, a third round clash in the Hellenic League Cup or the Pepetua Press Printing Solutions Floodlit Cup, if you like. Despite this, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself as I headed out along the motorway because the weather was remarkably dry. I was so happy with this in fact that I failed to spot the gathering fog which was only getting thicker the closer I got to Swindon.<br />
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Located outside of Swindon-proper (the lucky devils), Highworth have been going since 1893 and are currently playing at their highest level ever. Although they won the Hellenic Premier in 2004/05, they never went up and have been pretty all over the place ever since, finishing between 4th and 16th. Highworth's greatest cup success came in 2014-15 when they made it to the semi-finals of the FA Vase, losing out to North Shields 3-0 on aggregate. Royal Wootton Bassett Town are the older club, having been formed in 1882 but have never won the Hellenic League nor gone any higher. They also haven't had as good a run in any of the major cups as Highworth, though they did win something called the Brotherhood Cup in 1938-39. Your guess is as good as mine.<br />
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I was helpfully instructed by the club's twitter person to park up in the neighbouring golf club upon arrival, their car park being in the same massive field as the football pitch. I was having quite a bit of trouble spotting the main entrance in the fog but luckily two club stalwarts had the brainwave to man a large gap in the fence equipped with a change tin, so I entered through there. The fence that lines the far side of the ground was full of gaps, which is probably why the club failed to go up when they finished as champions. The side opposite this has two banks of covered seating, with a covered standing portion in the centre which bears the initials of the club hastily painted on breeze blocks. Magic. The end opposite where I'd entered is where the clubhouse stands, looming over proceedings on a little hill with a railed-off path for the players to access the changing rooms below. I've seen worse grounds but to be honest I'd never had so much trouble actually seeing a ground as you can probably tell from the pictures.<br />
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Highworth start the game brightly. They must really want to get their hands on those Printing Solutions. They overcomplicate a few good moves though and in time Wootton start to get the ball up their end a bit, meaning I have to move to a more central position in the vague hope of seeing anything. A Wootton player hacks down a Highworth player rather bad-temperedly on the goal line <i>just</i> outside the box. This looked like an ideal free kick position but unfortunately it's wasted. The kicker did what I thought was the sensible thing and rolled it out diagonally to meet a teammate in the D but the resulting shot was pitifully weak and easily dealt with. Later on Wootton get into a one-on-one but it's somehow blocked by the onrushing keeper with mighty thud. Minutes later another collision with the keeper leaves a Wootton player writhing on the ground. After some deliberation the referee shows a yellow card, much to the chagrin of some meathead behind the goal who spends the entire set-up of the kick screaming at the referee in a weird cockney Swindon accent. The free kick is spooned over the bar and our lad bellows "and that's a rubbish free kick!" leaving me wondering if he's a Wootton fan or just a general fan of being livid.<br />
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All-in-all it's quite a good half of football considering the lack of goals, very free flowing, occasionally end-on-end and most importantly: extremely bad tempered. Well, it is <a href="https://twitter.com/RWBTFC/status/951038410780655616" target="_blank">ostensibly a derby</a> after all. Feeling a little chilly I decided to take in the clubhouse, just as soon as I'd waited patiently for the players and officials to climb up the unreasonably long path to the changing rooms. I wanted to drink my pint at a leisurely pace for once and luckily for me there was a window at the side of the room where I imagine on a clear day you'd get quite a good view of the pitch.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgShPA-9GQBMF9aCH_I-clQNUjVLlAx4upCXechYw6Go44j0lH8XqymXslQztLES4PnmsOGIO76BXVe8NJzluZ-p4cCDv682WQNBtDdX0NNXlXP5NltOYJeBCFI_CzNIFqu24bWtOc4fav4/s1600/20180110_204401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgShPA-9GQBMF9aCH_I-clQNUjVLlAx4upCXechYw6Go44j0lH8XqymXslQztLES4PnmsOGIO76BXVe8NJzluZ-p4cCDv682WQNBtDdX0NNXlXP5NltOYJeBCFI_CzNIFqu24bWtOc4fav4/s320/20180110_204401.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scenes</td></tr>
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I left my executive box for approximately two minutes to use the facilities before heading back out to the action and during that time it transpired that I'd missed two goals, one from each side. Whilst I was still reeling from this, the referee called off the match due to the fog. Although some people in the ground made a valiant attempt to, you couldn't really complain about this. For lovers of a feisty non-league derby, the replay will take place on Wednesday the 31st of January (weather depending).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkTvHvU-NHCO1E4sR0OitUxnWBWSQFmjvu2Wgp8jbNBEPh0fMz3RKIK6CNdmkJMFzu93GEBQ0XA0oim0neG2gbl96SNHK03sqwIBtIZuCET8Ou-2AJ270Ew5iYyy8DhlIvA3qxx0uv74MF/s1600/20180110_210157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkTvHvU-NHCO1E4sR0OitUxnWBWSQFmjvu2Wgp8jbNBEPh0fMz3RKIK6CNdmkJMFzu93GEBQ0XA0oim0neG2gbl96SNHK03sqwIBtIZuCET8Ou-2AJ270Ew5iYyy8DhlIvA3qxx0uv74MF/s320/20180110_210157.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Br00tal kvlt groundhopping black metal \m/</td></tr>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-85196621363492228022018-01-14T14:44:00.001-08:002018-04-27T04:01:10.177-07:00#71 Longwell Green Communuty Stadium, Longwell Green Sports <div>
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Ahh the Boxing Day fixture. A chance for those of us that can muster the energy to stand around in the cold, attempting to focus on a match while secreting a noxious, gravy-tinged discharge from every pore. Deciding early-on that I wouldn't engage with a return trip to Walsall's Bescot Stadium to watch Rovers, I'd settled on a mere 5.5 mile jaunt to local Western First Division side Almondsbury to watch them take on Roman Glass St. George. This was scuppered however by heavy drizzle throughout most of Christmas Day itself which caused the game to be called off. Unfortunately for me, I had engaged in my usual Christmas tradition of staying up all night drinking, ingesting garbage and ruining EastEnders for my wife by howling with laughter at this year's improbable mass death. As I result, I didn't learn about this postponement until around 11 o'clock the next morning and the only reasonable not called-off alternative was kicking off at 12. So with bleary eyes and a bad head I set off for the East Bristol suburb of Longwell Green.<br />
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Although it was a last-minute change of plan I was pretty happy to be going to Longwell Green for shamefully voyeuristic reasons, namely the fact that the side were without a win so far in the entire 2017-18 season. In fact, over 22 matches played they had acquired a grand total of 2 points and a goal difference of -62. This struck me as pretty remarkable and I'd had the club on my to-do list for some time, A: because I couldn't imagine what they were doing to obtain a record like that other than all the players running headlong into each other after kick-off, and B: because it would be great scenes to be in attendance for the first time they nabbed 3 points during the current campaign. Of course I'd already seen Paulton Rovers U18s who weren't only winless but pointless to boot, so how bad could they really be?</div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">As previously mentioned I was pressed for time that afternoon and unfortunately it was one of those grounds where the postcode didn't quite get me to the right place. So after finding a quiet place to park, I scanned the skyline for floodlights and the sound of men swearing and romped towards them. I ended up getting to the local park which, as is the case with many recent additions to the 10th tier (Longwell obtained promotion to the Western Division One in 2005) contains a hastily ringed off rectangle containing the pitch and clubhouse, as is in the ground regulations at that level. This has varying degrees of success, not least in at Cadbury Heath where I spotted several places a person could sidle in and Welton Rovers where the village playground is mere inches from the ground boundary with only a waist-high brick wall interrupting a perfect view of the pitch. This is used to great effect by many. Even today as I walked towards what I assumed was the entrance a dog-walker paused by the fence to eye the action for 10 minutes or so. Perhaps he was on a one-man boycott, refusing to enter the ground until the club had turned things around but unable to drag himself away completely, like a tinpot South Glos version of Coventry when they were at Sixfields. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">The exterior of Longwell Green Community Stadium is very much the archetypal small town community center, the entrance to the football ground sandwiched between a Scout hut and a modern church building. The place was originally farmland that was given over to the staff of Longwell Green Coachworks, who opted to form a club in 1966 in the wake of England's World Cup triumph. Their greatest success was in 2008-09 when they finished as runners up in the Western League Division One and went up as a result. Other than that they've reached the second round of the FA Vase on two occasions and were Bristol & District League Senior Division champions in 1991–92. Although it's a far-cry from the farmland it once was, Longwell Green Community Stadium is still a fairly spartan ground. There are two metal covered stands, one with four rows of fold-down seats in blue and white and another right next to it which is half the length and holds a standing metal terrace. That's all there is. The rest of the ground is just railing and two painted blue brick dugouts. </span></span><br />
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As I took my place behind the goal, I couldn't help but wonder how on earth these lads could be arsed. I was feeling very woozy under the effort of just standing outside and watching their Christmas lunch paunches sway in the breeze, imagine playing! It was a pretty cold one as well but mercifully the rain had left us alone for the afternoon. Some of the players seemed to be looking to just get through the afternoon with as little fuss as possible, as evidenced by one lad that went absolutely ballistic at an opposition player for clearing a ball into the opposite field early doors. I would've been happy for the momentary break personally. It's true there's no such thing as an easy game, especially on a cold boxing day but Bitton certainly would've fancied themselves considering the record of their opposition.</div>
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I was expecting wanton incompetence from Longwell Green but they're an industrious side who mark and defend decently enough but are severely lacking when it comes to strength in possession and creativity. Despite keeping things even for 35 minutes and forcing a few weak saves, Longwell do eventually concede as Best shoots low past the diving fingers of the goalie. Bitton make it two on 43 as the ball is passed from near the corner flag into a mostly empty box, well, empty of Longwell players anyway. There were, if I recall correctly, three Bitton players waiting in the box for the man by the flag (who was being kept onside by his marker) to put in the cross which Baker diverted into the goal, making my earlier comments about Longwell's defending seem a bit premature.<br />
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After a quick pint in the packed out clubhouse, I took a spot on the metal terrace for the second half. It was from here that I overheard the mad statistic that Longwell have fielded 54 (fifty four) players over this half season. Truly a mind-boggling feat which one would assume leaves the hope of getting any consistency on the pitch a far-off dream. This lack of organisation is highlighted in spectacular fashion when their goalkeeper tries to dribble the ball outside his area instead of going for a clearance and is dispossessed, allowing a Best to walk it into an open goal for his brace. I decide at this point that's it for them and it's just a matter of how many get let in now.</div>
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However they do claw one back, a somewhat fortunate nod in at the near post from a corner, to much rejoicing. A dogged period of resistance following Bittons third goal ensues where the home team see a bit more of the ball and create a couple of chances but it's short lived and Bitton score two more in the closing 15 minutes. At this point most people around me shuffled of home for some turkey sandwiches and I was left to contemplate the passing of another successful year of groundhopping. Here's to many more.<br />
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-69074949215156290062018-01-07T10:48:00.000-08:002018-01-07T10:48:31.303-08:00#70 The Athletic Ground, Paulton Rovers<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">
<b>Paulton Rovers U18s 0 - Yate Town U18s 7 (Seven)</b></div>
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Thursday 21st December 2017, Somerset Youth Floodlight League Premier Division</div>
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Somerset Youth Floodlight League. Are there any words more thrilling to the human soul? The chance for the festively-stretched (in terms of time, not waistline, that came later) football ground enthusiast to take in various west country stadiums on a Thursday evening(!) at a knock-down price. Perhaps more importantly, a competition for the top non-league clubs of Somerset, Bristol and South Glos to bash their youth teams against each other like an angry toddler with a new set of WWE figures. Having never really enjoyed playing football myself at school, I have to give a doff of the cap to these young lads who will have no doubt come in after a long day at school, had a stodgy meal shoved down them by a doting parent, been ferried to a strange Somerset town in a rickety minibus and finally shoved out onto a cold pitch to play 90 minutes for a dozen (if they're lucky) overly-enthusiastic dads and club lifers who love nothing more than to bark instructions from the stands. Nevertheless, it's something that all budding footballers must go through and no doubt something they'll look back on fondly in later life whether they make it as players or not. </div>
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Still if you must go to a SYFL fixture, Paulton Rovers have one of the plushier grounds in the league and the clubhouse edges out the village pub in terms of space and bar facilities. There was also no gaggle of jeans and shoes wearing young men shouting about Bristol City in the clubhouse (because there was no one in there at all but still). I was surprised by the professional touches throughout the place, not least the small TV screens they had behind the bar scrolling through fixtures for the senior team, the youth team and even the netball team. Eat your heart out Beşiktaş. Inside, the ground is similarly well-equipped and comfortable. Again it's nothing fancy, just simple things done right. When approaching the turnstiles from outside you can see the iron roof of a slightly raised 4-step covered terrace that spans the entire end of the pitch. A similar stand, albeit at ground level, runs along roughly one-half of the edge of the pitch up to the team benches. This has one step of terracing which extends out of the covered area. The end opposite the raised terrace is empty, save for the gated entrance to the netball... rink? Maybe I should check out a netball bout during the off season.</div>
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On the remaining side there's a ground-level stand with four rows of fold-down seats. A rather bog standard, temporary looking thing that you see at many non-league grounds. Next to this though is a brick, raised main stand accessed by stairs. This has another four rows of seats, in three colour banks, under cover. It's affords a decent view with only some pillar obstruction. Your obligatory quirky feature is the strange bungalow clubhouse, half coated in sky blue wooden panelling, half pastel orange plaster, which backs onto a stand-less section of the turnstile side. It looks like the fanciest property on the beach front in some Floridian retirement community. All in all The Athletic Ground is a very tidy facility indeed, I'd say the only better step 4 grounds I've seen are <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/12-marston-road-stafford-rangers.html&source=gmail&ust=1515416814973000&usg=AFQjCNHc5ubjuCKh5FmFaxC-Mo9IV8eFVg" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/12-marston-road-stafford-rangers.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Marston Road</a> and the <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/7-raymond-mcenhill-stadium-salisbury-fc.html&source=gmail&ust=1515416814973000&usg=AFQjCNFUceXrFk1MI-CoR9-a-jjwV1U-1g" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/7-raymond-mcenhill-stadium-salisbury-fc.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Ray Mac</a>, neither of which are fair comparisons because both are former Conference Premier venues. </div>
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Considering Paulton has a population of just over 5,000, the Rovers are doing pretty well for themselves. This may be in part due to the windfall the club will have come into during the 2009-10 FA Cup where they overcame Bideford, Tiverton Town, Didcot Town, the then Conference South Newport County and Chippenham Town to get to the first round of the competition. Luck did not smile on them in the competition proper however and they were trounced 7-0 at home by League One Norwich City. Not before they'd got a bumper crowd of 2,070 and the TV cameras through the doors however. This season's cup run was also a memorable one for them as well, narrowly losing 2-3 to Sutton United in the fourth round qualifying. Whether this had much of an impact in the long run I don't know for sure but I do know they've come a long way from being a Western League yo-yo club with an old RAF shed for a stand (no really). Rovers spent two seasons in the Southern Premier, their highest ever level, after beating the reformed Merthyr Town in the 2013-14 play-offs. They have since been relegated back down to the Southern West where we find them today.</div>
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I wandered out onto the near terrace as one of what I would estimate to be a 15-strong crowd. This gave me lots of space to myself, allowing me to take photos and hunt for Sutton United stickers without feeling like a weirdo. Yate were really the dominant force during the opening 10 minutes, missing the opportunity to drive their first shot past Paulton's Rod Flanders look-alike goalkeeper by mere inches in the 8th minute. Soon after this Rod denied a marauding Yate forward, bravely putting his body on the line to block the close-range effort. A few of the aforementioned overly-enthusiastic dads began hooting instructions from the main stand at this point and an attempted tactical adjustment lead to the following delightful exchange:</div>
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Manager: "LOUIE. ARE WE HAPPY WITH YOU MARKING 3?"</div>
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*long pause*</div>
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Louie (despondently): "...no." </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx8ddglWjTukiX_SatSumq4fOM-5UdA7qQu3f_HGoiZ_raIQLJubYAOAWFbzDlElWonXU0NAzBekzFrgVNuCP8gwLzIg4tye6d3pZJD3QNsICuzSdRCB7OUTqKGZ7suprT8skyVv-7OcgR/s1600/20171221_194227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx8ddglWjTukiX_SatSumq4fOM-5UdA7qQu3f_HGoiZ_raIQLJubYAOAWFbzDlElWonXU0NAzBekzFrgVNuCP8gwLzIg4tye6d3pZJD3QNsICuzSdRCB7OUTqKGZ7suprT8skyVv-7OcgR/s200/20171221_194227.jpg" width="112" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rod</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpDCui1yQUYRc60SwN1fXOKZF1TKuQjMp3kawJil3Ejq_XvDFdR3fMi2DWFJQPz4XRt0RwqklV4HRJb0qXJyNv7LywCdRzaMJbCTmbLsxSvRXYWdmDNU4GT0vAFLBSDgxKH_Lo0mfpxQJu/s1600/20171221_205631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpDCui1yQUYRc60SwN1fXOKZF1TKuQjMp3kawJil3Ejq_XvDFdR3fMi2DWFJQPz4XRt0RwqklV4HRJb0qXJyNv7LywCdRzaMJbCTmbLsxSvRXYWdmDNU4GT0vAFLBSDgxKH_Lo0mfpxQJu/s200/20171221_205631.jpg" width="112" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A hairstyle challenger approaches</td></tr>
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It must be difficult at such a tender age to be on show like this and no-one in the ground that night would have a tougher night than our Rod, who conceded the first goal at around 21 minutes. It was a similar effort to the one he'd saved earlier but from the opposite corner of the 6-yard box. He got down in time but the ball went just wide of him on the muddy surface. Unlucky. Two minutes later Yate strike a rocket from midfield and rattle the crossbar, Rod sensibly commits to this, possibly whilst reaffirming his faith in an all-loving god but unfortunately the ball is already bouncing it's way toward being the perfect second ball for an ensuing Yate player. It was hard not to feel sorry for the lad as wadded to retrieve the ball from his net, muttering about the horrendous condition of his goal area thanks to the December weather. I wouldn't have thrived in youth football.</div>
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On the half, Yate make it three with a similar move to the first goal. I learn that Rod's name is in fact Ollie when a young girl holding her Dad's hand walks past and remarks: "Ugh! Look at Ollie's goal. It's like a pig pen..." Still in the first half, Yate slide a cross into the centre of the box which skims it's way past the entire Paulton defence, allowing a free Yate player to smash the ball past a diving Ollie for Yate's fourth. If it sounds like I'm ragging on Ollie during this report I'm really not. The poor lad didn't have much of a chance for any of the goals once the pitch and his defenders had their influence. It may be because I was stood behind him or (more likely in my opinion) his woes took me back to my own miserable afternoons between the sticks for inter-tutor football, being shouted at by meatheads with names like Jayden, Kye and Spud but I was silently willing him to keep his head up all game. To add weight to his complaints, one of a pair of Yate players who were practising distance shots during half time cried: "How the fuck are you meant to move through that!" as he retrieved his mate's shot. It should not be thought that their goal mouth was the thing stopping Paulton from having a decent crack at the game however. Yate were their better in pretty much every aspect. I don't want to harshly criticize children on these pages so I'll just say that Paulton's point free season thus far in the SYFL Premier (which includes a 2 - 12 defeat against Weston-super-Mare and a 0 - 16 defeat against Radstock, both at home) is evidence enough that there's a lot of work to be done. </div>
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Weirdly enough the other goal mouth was looking a lot healthier so as I changed ends to show solidarity with my new best mate, I thought that Paulton may yet have a shot at restoring some honour if they brightened up for the second half. This didn't materialise and despite some nice Paulton moves including a nutmeg and a fine diving save by Ollie (#OllieUltras), Yate continued to press and look dangerous. This culminated in the visitors fifth goal at about 65 minutes. A ball that the entire Paulton defence thought had gone out of play was deftly crossed into the middle from the goal line, just right for the grateful head of a Yate player to nod home. Nothing special but a great advert for playing until the flag's raised. Mind you when you're 5-0 up it's hard to care too much about how pretty the goals were and they weren't done yet, a sixth is scored as a result of a one-on-one from a midfield through-ball.</div>
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It doesn't get any better during the closing minutes of the game as the drizzle starts in earnest and Yate are winning corner after corner. The visitor's seventh and final goal is also probably the worst one to concede on Paulton's part, a goal-bound lob that trickles in over Ollie's fingertips when he doesn't jump high enough. Another bruising night for the Rovers youngsters but I'm sure it builds character, or something. Let's hope they can get those psychologically important first points under their belts soon and have a good run in the league cup which they're somehow still in. </div>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-82869870757384348922017-12-08T08:50:00.004-08:002018-01-16T04:10:44.612-08:00#69 Ewood Park, Blackburn Rovers<div style="color: #222222;">
<b style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Blackburn Rovers 2 Bristol Rovers 1 </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Saturday 25th of November 2017, League One</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Very much against my better judgement, I was heading up to Lancashire for my 5th competitive Bristol Rovers away game of the season. Similar to my trip to <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/20-crown-ground-accrington-stanley.html&source=gmail&ust=1512335478624000&usg=AFQjCNHvIicSVF5-IaqLzFEBmj-PV64TSA" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/20-crown-ground-accrington-stanley.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Accrington Stanley two years ago</a> I would be staying with and attending the match with my Croston-based pal Jake "Nash" Hilton, a Blackburn Rovers fan. His mum Sam was kind enough to give us a lift to The Brown Cow, a local hostelry a mere 7 minute walk from Ewood Park. Sam was having a very productive morning rustling up balls for her husband Kev's charity <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=https://twitter.com/ballstoms&source=gmail&ust=1512335478624000&usg=AFQjCNFzdHRnKK4ltJv7UFruVGBczxCYbg" href="https://twitter.com/ballstoms" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Balls To MS</a>. For some time now Kev and Sam have been travelling around the country soliciting balls (quiet in the back) and other signed sporting paraphernalia which will ultimately be auctioned off to raise funds for The MS Society. Kev was spending the day manfully braving the chill at Fleetwood Town, taking in their bore draw with Doncaster Rovers. Meanwhile while we were in the car Sam received a call from none-other than former World Cup winner Ben Kay offering an England rugby ball for the cause. The players apparently were very keen to beat the number of signatures that their Welsh rivals gave when they did the same. As anyone that knows me can attest, I don't give a solitary hoot about the old oval ball but it was still a lovely gesture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We had a pint in The Brown Cow and watched a bit of Barnsley failing to get back into a game against Leeds on the telly. As with most traditionally placed town center grounds, Ewood is well served by pubs and we had plenty of space the whole time. I suppose a lot of the reason for this is that Blackburn's average attendance has been half of what it was in those heady mid-90s days when Kenny Dalglish and, uh, Tim Sherwood... led the Blue and Whites to Premier League glory. Four seasons later they were relegated after coming 19th out of 20 and winning only seven games. They bounced back in two seasons and spent the next decade happily mid-table, winning the Football League Cup in 2002. In 2010 Rovers were taken over by Indian conglomerate Venky's, who immediately sacked (relatively) popular manager Sam Allardyce and replaced him with the relatively-obscure Steve Kean, allegedly at the behest of legendarily bent agent Jerome Anderson. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Kean's tenure was apocalyptically bad and featured low points such as Kean signing an improved contract while Rovers were bottom of the league then insisting to a baffled local press that now wasn't the time to discuss contracts and admitting to <a href="http://www.mirror.co.uk/sport/football/news/blackburn-fans-demand-refund-after-3314433" target="_blank">forfeiting a League Cup game for the sake of league form</a>. Things got so bad for Kean that even former Home Secretary and MP for Blackburn Jack Straw was <a href="https://www.sportsmole.co.uk/football/blackburn-rovers/news/jack-straw-urges-kean-exit_11148.html" target="_blank">publicly calling for his head</a>. In contrast to his willingness to keep going on Newsnight and make a tit of himself, this proved to be a rare moment of good judgement for Straw as Kean did indeed preside over the end of Blackburn's 11 year stay in the Premier League on the 7th of May 2012 when they lost to Wigan at Ewood Park. No representative from Venky's was in attendance. Kean moved on to a no-doubt lucrative job coaching the personal team of Brunei's Crown Prince Al-Muhtadee Billah, whereas five seasons and six managers later, Blackburn were relegated to the third tier for the first time since 1970–1971. This is really only a brief overview of some of the actions that have turned fans so strongly against Venky's and lead sections of the press to <a href="https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/venkys-and-other-corporate-vandals-must-be-stopped-from-owning-clubs-9ktw7pvhf" target="_blank">dub them "corporate vandals</a>" but I'll leave those interested to look into the debacle themselves. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These are the circumstances that led to the BRFC derby (as I'm calling it) being played for the first time since March 1992 during Bristol Rovers' unlikely spell in the second tier under Gerry Francis (and some other, less good managers). As such a crowd of over 1000 Gasheads decided to ignore our poor form and venture out to this rare and exotic ground. The idiots. As we passed through Alan Shearer Way in the cold Lancashire air, the impressive stadium rose into view in the skyline. It's not difficult to envision the roads crammed with throngs of eager supporters just seven short years ago but as we got close they were still noticeably sparse, as were the stands inside. Points of interest outside the ground include a memorial to former chairman and "greatest fan" Jack Walker, a local steel magnate who provided much of the funding and materials for their Premier League charge and stadium upgrades. There's also a small memorial garden for Rovers fans that have passed on behind the Blackburn End, a club shop, a season ticket holders only bar and a beer tent for the riff-raff.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Inside the stadium is a picture of modernity with identically tall two tier seated stands on three sides. The Ronnie Clayton Blackburn and Bryan Douglas Darwen Ends are identical to one another </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">with the slightly smaller upper sections acting as family areas, shielding whippersnappers from the hearty Northwestern match-day vitriol below. We were in the lower stand of the Ronnie Clayton End which Wikipedia informs me "houses some of the most passionate Rovers supporters [citation needed]". Maybe a few seasons ago this was the case but today our only companions were a trio of grim-faced men and their grim-faced young son, who snidely remarked that he didn't recognise our faces from the previous home games when Nash joined in with the singing. Tough crowd! This brought my companion down a bit and he remarked that it wasn't like this when he was a regular as a child with his mum. I suggested we move up a few rows as the stand was pretty empty and this proved a good move as we found ourselves surrounded by a jollier cross-section of fans. This cheered Nash up immensely as he could now participate without being chastised but the downside of this was we were now right in front of the end of the stand's windblocker and thus in a kind of funnel which fired the frosty afternoon air directly at us. It still wasn't as cold as Accrington though. </span><br />
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The main stand of Ewood Park is the Jack Walker Stand which stretches along one side of the pitch. It's basically the same as the two ends except the top-tier is the larger tier and there's a row of hospitality boxes separating them. Opposite this is the Riverside Stand, very aptly named as it sits about an arm-span's length away from the River, which was today positively raging due to the heavy rainfall. A bold choice which hopefully Rovers won't live to regret. Built in 1988 this is the oldest part of the ground and the only single-tier stand. In comparison to the other ultra-modern stands it does hold some vintage charm with it's red and blue banks of seats and it's low, pillared roof. I believe every ground should have at least one stand like this, if only to slow the march of the identikit. There are plans to rebuild and extend the Riverside Stand but it depends on attendances increasing and presumably global warming being halted. This blog is already too long so I won't discuss how the ground has been rebuilt over the years but I would recommend <a href="https://ewoodpark.jimdo.com/ewood-park-history-of-the-stands" target="_blank">this account</a>.</div>
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The match itself turned out to be a pleasing affair for both parties. I'd expected an absolute tonking and came away feeling robbed of a point. It was a much better away performance than I'd been used to this season from my Rovers and we benefited from having Billy Bodin back from injury as well as an inspired decision from Darrell Clarke to play defender Joe Partington in the middle of a 4-1-3-2 formation. It was in fact Bristol Rovers that rattled the net first, a none-to-pretty but dogged midfield battle was eventually won through a succession of sideways passes until the ball was at the feet of Bodin who turned on the style to circumnavigate his marker and cross to Leadbitter on the wing. Ollie Clarke headed the ball down, it took a deflection <i>off of a Blackburn defender</i> and Clarke pounced forward to smash it home. The players ran half the length of the pitch in celebration before it was called for offside. Annoying. The only player in an offside position was Ellis Harrison who wasn't anywhere near the ball. Mustn't get too hung up on it but the referee should be doing better in League One. Mind you Blackburn felt they were entitled to a penalty after a rather vigorous tackle from Gas keeper Adam Smith so maybe things evened out.</div>
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Still in the first half, Bristol Rovers were again denied as Lee Brown ran onto a lofted forward pass from Chris Lines. He worked this into the box and crossed for Billy Bodin to head the ball into the crossbar. Argh! Right out of the blocks in the second half Blackburn looked sure to score when Bradley Dack ran into a point-blank one-on-one situation with Smith after a cross from inside the box but got the angle all wrong and it rolled harmlessly out for a goal kick. Finally after 58 minutes the scoring opened as Ellis Harrison was played in and made his way up to the edge of the opposition box. After a brief stand off with a defender he tiptoed a few steps to the right of his marker and curled in a low shot that bounced past the diving fingertips of David Raya. The Welshman's 7th in all competitions this season. The end of the stadium opposite us erupted but I could only turn with a smug smile to Nash by way of subtle celebration. We'd deserved the lead for once.</div>
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Never ones to make things simple for ourselves, Bristol Rovers gave away a penalty just three minutes later as Tom Lockyer barged into the back of Dominic Samuel in the box. Captain Charlie Mulgrew coolly plowed this into the top corner and the score was leveled. Minutes later it was Tom Broadbent's turn to clatter an opposition player as Danny Graham was taken down on the wing about 25 yards out. The former Sunderland misfit put in a lovely free kick that floated kindly for it's many suitors but in the end it was headed just wide. After coming down expecting a big loss, I was now gripping my seat praying to any deities that might be listening for us to hang on for the important point towards keeping our heads above water in what might easily turn into a relegation scrap before much longer. Sadly though I must not have acquired enough good boy points that week as it took only five minutes for Blackburn to take the lead. Blackburn hoofed the ball from midfield, to box and back out to wing where Derrick Williams had enough time to set up the perfect cross for Samuel's mighty bonce to nod past the flailing Smith. In the immortal words of Ned Flanders: Aw, hell, diddly-ding-dong crap! Darrell stuck on Tom Nichols and Rory Gaffney to chase the game but the only other attempt of note was a bullet shot from the D by Liam Sercombe which was ably saved by Raya. </div>
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Much like the shafted runner-up of The Weakest Link, we were once again leaving with nothing despite answering a lot of difficult questions from our opponents. The upside of feeling a bit robbed was the feeling that, for once, we'd put in a good away shift and this was something to build on against Rotherham at home next week. Meanwhile I had a pub crawl in Croston to look forward to. Thanks again to Nash, Sam and Kev for putting up with me and be sure to check out <a href="https://twitter.com/ballstoms" target="_blank">Balls to MS</a>.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">God bless the north.</td></tr>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-2875663277148422092017-11-29T11:03:00.000-08:002018-01-16T02:13:01.401-08:00#68 Thornhill Park, Slimbridge AFC<b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Slimbridge AFC 1 Yate Town 5 </b><br />
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Wednesday 15th of November 2017, Southern League Division One West</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Knowing I would soon be consumed by the ever-demanding festive social calendar, I was Gloucestershire-bound on this chilly Wednesday night for a Southern League clash between the Swans of Slimbridge and the Bluebells of Yate. With just under a third of the season gone, Slimbridge sit in 11th place and Yate in 16th.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As I pulled into the neighbouring business park that the club use as a car park, the familiar smell of organic bovine plant nutrients wafted daintily on the evening breeze. As I approached the entrance I noticed a small steaming lump just by the 'Welcome to Slimbridge AFC' sign. Surely, I thought, there's no way the club's custodians would solicit a local cow equivalent of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_the_Octopus" target="_blank">Paul the Octopus</a> to come and "bless" the ground before kick-off. I was relieved to discover as I drew close that it was actually someone's discarded fag. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Slimbridge were formed in 1902 and play in the nearby village of Cambridge, after former player and president Evi Thornhill bequeathed land to the club in his will. In 2001-02 Slimbridge made the step up to the Gloucestershire County League and achieved double promotions to the Hellenic Premier. After four successful years in the top division, the last of which they finished as champions, the club suddenly announced they would be resigning from their place in the Southern League before a ball was even kicked, citing commitment issues. The first team took the place of their reserves in the slightly obscure Gloucestershire Northern Senior League (level 12) and rapidly made their way back up to where they had been in just eight seasons.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Yate are the more established Southern League side, this being their 26th season in the competition and their 9th consecutive in Division One after being relegated from the Premier in 2008/09. In 2012/13 they reached the first round of the FA Cup where the lost 3-0 away to Cheltenham Town.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thornhill Park is quite a sparse little ground which wouldn't look out of place in the Western League, possibly a result of their aforementioned setback. There's a long covered seated stand across one side with four rows of seats and a small section of covered standing behind the goal nearest the clubhouse. That's it. There is, as appears to be a recurring theme in the Southern League, a large porch that extends out from the clubhouse which was quite popular. It doesn't have anything on the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0G6pUqehFmedboIQMzcaK1_KlWNYhVD5GyJqcoYQOt3zHIGZzvNRuBajfSE-shyhUBKksbqNlmU6PkizPEtanfsavfqNLJxTVAXHvCBI0aB6TzQB0LppjC3VfmmFfxrIH0Bl1u4FqzdF0/s1600/use+%25284%2529.jpg" target="_blank">Frome Town überporsch</a> though. I also particularly enjoyed Slimbridge's effort in ensuring their ground is enclosed, as is Southern League standard:</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"They're football fans, you dolt! They don't plot, they don't scheme, AND THEY ARE NOT ORGANIZED!"</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With the Bluebells and the Swans in resplendent yellow and blue shirts respectively (just to be perfectly confusing) the game kicked off. Both teams have opportunities in a very open first period. Yate force a low gather from the home keeper early doors and a Slimbridge defender had to take responsibility of punting away a powerful shot from close range as he blocked his keeper's view. A Slimbridge forward made a sumptuous run that beat many defenders but suffered a hamstring pull just as he got clear and was subbed off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Yate hammered home the opener on 22 minutes with Ben Brooks receiving the ball in the center of the pitch and proceeding to unleash a rocket into the top right which the Slimbridge goalie couldn't hope to meet, despite his prompt dive. Slimbridge do get a deserved equaliser in a bit of a turd way that wasn't quite representative of their decent efforts in the first half. A Yate defender fumbled the slippery ball between his feet near the goal, causing it to dart off into the path of a delighted Marley Thomas, who found himself in a 1-on-1 with the keeper which he didn't waste.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I retired to the clubhouse with a tea at half-time, which had a very old folks home vibe to it, even more so than usual for a non-league club. Just feast your eyes on that faux leather.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh baby.</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Slimbridge immediately burst forward as the second half whistle is blown and notch a goal which was disallowed for offside. Hard to comment on whether that was a fair decision or not as I had moved behind the goal but I can confirm the players were furious. They followed this up with a daisy cutter which narrowly missed past the post.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Swans continue to push hard for the lead but Yate break without warning and Mayson Evans got a shot away. Slimbridge breaths were held as it hit the inside of the post with a ting but it ricocheted kindly for the away team and sunk into the inner side netting.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was at this point that I noticed that Slimbridge were a vastly shorter side compared to Yate and that this was causing problems for them. A notable example was a lofted cross from the left back up to his striker, which the latter failed to bring under his control prompting the following exchange:</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Striker: "Argh! Whip it so I can get hold of it!" </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hoofing the ball wasn't working for Slimbridge but keeping it on the ground wasn't much better as Yate seemed physically stronger than their opponents to boot.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The home side's woes were compounded by another, more dubious flag offside and another Yate goal, an initial strike clattering off the crossbar and back out into play was easily tapped in by a well-placed Brooks. From this point on it really isn't Slimbridge's night. Their best opportunity of the second half was denied by Yate's keeper as he masterfully pushed the powerful 1-on-1 strike behind his goal. The resulting corner yeilds a shot on target from midfield but it's blocked by a Yate body in the box. Other than this moment they spend much of the second half on the defensive, looking particularly vulnerable when Yate break. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Despite the protestations from the Yate goalkeeper for his players to hold their areas and see the game out, Yate charge forward and add another goal. Brooks gets his hat-trick through an easy-as-you-like cross from wing to box.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At the time I didn't feel like Slimbridge quite deserved this pummeling but they certainly didn't deserve to win either and a lot of their fans sounded pretty fatalistic about the whole affair since as early as the second Yate goal. Just as I'm mulling this over, Yate make it 5-1, with Steve Davies banging one in from a very sharp angle indeed. They're taking the piss now. This came minutes after Swans are almost taken apart by a mistimed pass-back between their midfield which allowed Yate to break.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bad times indeed for the Stroud side. Having just conceded 5 against Evesham the Saturday prior they went on to ship 8 (eight) goals against Wimborne Town the weekend following this loss. Lets hope things pick up for them soon.</span></div>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-77030171405430437942017-11-09T10:44:00.001-08:002018-01-24T10:57:06.712-08:00#67 Aspray Arena, Sporting Khalsa<b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Sporting Khalsa 3 Coventry United 0 </b><br />
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After the previous day's <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2017/11/66-meadow-lane-notts-county.html&source=gmail&ust=1510250391977000&usg=AFQjCNEamo79j48VNtm65DCylGHRYDhvKQ" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2017/11/66-meadow-lane-notts-county.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">disappointing capitulation</a>, Daz and I retired for some consolation pints in *shudders* the UK's <a href="http://www.hootersnottingham.co.uk/" target="_blank">only remaining Hooters bar</a>, due to the fact that it was the closest bar to the train station. Despite this we still missed the last train to Beeston where Daz had parked and had to grab the tram. Tragically enough this was probably my favourite part of the evening as I love a tram. It was made all the more special by a chat with some local eccentrics who looked like they had just come back from a LARP/magic convention and kept referring to the station as "Beeston Intergalactic" for some unknown reason. Add to the mix that no one emerged to charge us for the journey and you can write that up as a fairly successful escape from Nottingham, allowing us to turn our attention to the second game of the weekend.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Sporting Khalsa have the honor of being, to my knowledge, the first British Asian football club (their formation in 1991 slightly edging out those of 1993's London APSA and 1996's Sporting Bengal United). The Sikh side began life in the Walsall & District Sunday Leagues, moving to the West Midlands (Regional) League for one season in 1996, dropping out, then rejoining in 2004 after a reorganisation. This proved a shrewd decision as the club gained promotion from Division Two to Division One in their first season and were able to purchase the Abbey Park Stadium after it was vacated by struggling Bloxwich Town. Within five years the ambitious club had outgrown Abbey Park and took up residence at Willenhall Town's Noose Lane when, once again, the previous owner's financial woes presented the opportunity.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">The Lockmen and Khalsa were landlord and tenant for 4 years as the ground was redeveloped into the Aspray Arena before Willenhall moved on to Long Lane Park in Essington after a series of relegations. Pushing on again Khalsa were promoted into the Midland League Premier Division as champions. The following season in what was probably their finest hour to date, the club made it to the 4th Qualifying Round of the FA Cup where a crowd of 2,252 watched them take on FC United of Manchester at the Aspray. With only mild handbags when some <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74RsesO6ybM" target="_blank">Wolves' baby squad decided to crash the party</a> for two minutes, throw bins at some pensioners then leg it down the street as soon as the cops showed up. The season after they made it to the Quarter Finals of the FA Vase and this season will be looking to take things forward another level still by gaining promotion to the Northern Premier League. They started today's game in 3rd place with 12 wins in 14 unbeaten games.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Their opponents for the afternoon were 5th place Coventry United. United were formed only four years ago in protest, quite understandably in my view, by fans of Coventry City who decided that being asked to travel to Sixfields in Northampton for home games was a bridge too far and thought they'd have more luck starting from scratch than dealing with SISU and Arena Coventry Limited. Three promotions in three seasons sees them in the Midlands Premier and they have encroached on their shunned big brother already by taking over Coventry City Women and making their home in Butts Park Arena, much touted as the future home of the Football League club. The way things are going at the moment it's not inconceivable to envision the two meeting in Conference South within a decade. Obviously they don't have much in the way of history yet but they did once beat Polesworth 28 (twenty-eight) - 0.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Joining us on this chilly Walsall afternoon were our female companions (I know, surprising isn't it?) Becky and Sophie as well as our old uni pal Mikey Southan, a Wolves fan (bin throwing pedigree unknown) who is currently trying to get a play about groundhopping off the ground along with </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://www.michaelsouthanplaywright.co.uk&source=gmail&ust=1510337682786000&usg=AFQjCNG1n-efcJq8iNKJxWW7YuGS9oacmQ" href="http://www.michaelsouthanplaywright.co.uk/" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc; font-family: arial, sans-serif;" target="_blank">other less ambitious projects</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">. We entered the ground and Mikey and the girls took seats in the main stand while Daz and I walked the perimeter taking pictures of floodlights, causing much pointing and laughter from our companions. In our defense the Aspray Arena is quite an attractive ground, despite clearly being a work-in-progress. The main stand is a massive metal barn with six pillars in front of rows of flamboyant custard yellow and azure seats. In lieu of team benches there are two sections of cordoned off seats in the actual stand for the substitutes to sit among the supporters. This wasn't used by feisty Khalsa manager Ian Rowe, who couldn't even be contained by his own technical area as he ventured back and forth between screaming at his bench and wading onto the pitch, even when his team were 2-0 up. In fairness it's not like anyone was going to be brave enough to tell him to stop. Up the top of the stand there is a large empty, flat section which a few people were using to stand. The view was pretty bad because of the roof though and I'm only 5'11 so I can't recommend it, unless Khalsa have an active short person ultras firm I don't know about.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Opposite this is a covered six step terrace used sparsely on this occasion by the away fans. It's set back quite far from the pitch and had a lot of timber and lose gravel in front of it, suggesting renovations are afoot. The Khalsa owners are on record as saying they ultimately want to turn the facility into a conference standard stadium and although they're quite far at the moment, they are blessed with space to build into that a lot of league clubs would snatch your left arm off for. Behind the goal near the entrance there are a number of rooms with signs like "Stadium Cafe" and "Hospitality Suite" above them, which sound fancy but are in reality small conservatories full of people enjoying tea and samosas. The facilities are basic but well done and the club are making the most of what they have. The only notable exception are the toilets which seem to be a work in progress as most cubicles have their doors and seats detached, leaving what Daz would describe as a "build your own" approach to toileting. The goal opposite this has nothing but a grass bank and as always some mad solitary fool who decided that was the best place to watch from on this chilly Black Country weekend. In terms of making the most of the facilities, Khalsa have wasted no space at the front of the ground, with five-a-side pitches, a martial arts gym and the pièce de résistance: the 4-4-2 bar and Indian restaurant all crammed in near the turnstiles. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Indeed fair readers I can deny it no longer, a slap-up curry meal was a huge draw when it came to earmarking this ground and I'm pretty sure it's the only reason Becky deigned to make an appearance at all. Already I was wondering if Khalsa would best such culinary delights as the <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVanYMUu2JGqJ8y8Tg21uTTiYelJl7e_Ev3YObiILTr6zVaKQO0R37Acp4WLvfV7vVUm_0Nu9z3lSLkrehtAwAqishwlZzErUvT_ihu6YOjwkgPus6nbc0y4DXnYcChuUI8vkj4G6WEWLC/s1600/DSCF5727.JPG&source=gmail&ust=1510337682786000&usg=AFQjCNE8y3QkhRtKPR7gyXHQ4yC2R_5IBg" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVanYMUu2JGqJ8y8Tg21uTTiYelJl7e_Ev3YObiILTr6zVaKQO0R37Acp4WLvfV7vVUm_0Nu9z3lSLkrehtAwAqishwlZzErUvT_ihu6YOjwkgPus6nbc0y4DXnYcChuUI8vkj4G6WEWLC/s1600/DSCF5727.JPG" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Aggborough pies</a> or the banging full-Irish cooked for us by Lenny the kindly B&B owner back in <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2016/11/36-oriel-park-dundalk.html&source=gmail&ust=1510337682786000&usg=AFQjCNGufTBtuh2cvFSPonvzYZBzofbFBQ" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2016/11/36-oriel-park-dundalk.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Dundalk</a> but I would have to wait until after the game to find out. Khalsa were wearing yellow shirts and blue shorts with similar luminosity to the seats while Cov rocked a Christmassy red top, green short combo. The whole effect was quite visually distressing, leading Mikey to remark that it looked like the nucleus of one of Neil Buchanan's Big Art Attacks. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Shocking after only 4 minutes, Khalsa were gifted the opening goal when a deflected ball landed kindly for Kyle Brady who slotted in the one-on-one, sending the keeper the wrong way. This completely trashed my 71st minute first goal scored raffle ticket. Every United player around Brady was shouting for offside which makes me wonder if it was an offside trap gone wrong which credit where it's due is a brave thing to attempt at this level. United faffed around with it too much in their own half at one point during the first half, were dispossessed and were lucky not to be two down as Craig Bannister flashed a low ball across the face of goal which would've been a tap-in if anyone had got there in time. Mitch Piggon came closest to netting for the visitors in the first half as he a cross in the box but seemed to wrong-foot himself under pressure from a Khalsa defender and ended up missing his target. He made the effort to chase the ball and kept it in but was in such a poor position by then he could only smash it into the side netting. Piggon was in for a frustrating afternoon and managed to drive a great header just wide of the far post just before the end of the half. Khalsa played it defensive for the rest of the first half, so attention was turned to the linesman nearest us who ran with his arms stretched out behind him and his fists clenched like a big bald toddler. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">It was a very open second half with too many chances for both teams to list here but in the end it was Khalsa who would add two more goals before the end. Liam Holt skipped from a central position just outside the area into the top left of the pitch and crossed it past the United defenders around the goal for Bannister to kind of stamp it into the net from a tight angle. The small gaggle of Coventry old boys continued to shout encouragement right until the death, spurring Piggon to make yet another tantalising near-miss when he received a nice through-ball, sidestepped his defender and shot across the floor from an angle, going just wide at the far post because of a deflection. What a day for that lad who could've made it evens on his own had it been any other day. Still, near-misses don't win football games and the home team hadn't finished yet. In the 89th minute Holt received the ball dead centre about 25 yards out and decided he may as well have a crack. This looked to take everyone by surprise and the United goalkeeper could only watch as the shot slinked past him to guarantee victory for his opponents. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">Mission accomplished for the boys in yellow, it was time to dive into the bar and smash a curry. I went with a lamb jalfrezi which was bloody delightful. We spent a lovely evening chatting, drinking, watching West Ham get destroyed by Liverpool on telly and being confused by the 90s rave music that was periodically blasted out over the speakers. It felt good to have finally ticked this one off after having it on the list so far and to have caught up with Mikey after such a long time.</span></div>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-12375433921873010942017-11-07T15:40:00.000-08:002017-11-07T15:53:56.986-08:00#66 Meadow Lane, Notts County <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Notts County 4 Bristol Rovers 2</span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friday 3rd of November 2017, FA Cup First Round</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGSiW1TBb55WeaU9hCYWmfzaFv1a5Z5i-UoVU-WPDDqLcvZlDdjN2l0swTCJBHIskvUslx04v6VorVQea1YNRicsK1jOorL-_bxBPnSxUN_9UvM0zr3yqMEAfBoF9hyKjXh7eScoecs0m/s1600/20171103_193801.jpg" style="color: #1155cc; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKGSiW1TBb55WeaU9hCYWmfzaFv1a5Z5i-UoVU-WPDDqLcvZlDdjN2l0swTCJBHIskvUslx04v6VorVQea1YNRicsK1jOorL-_bxBPnSxUN_9UvM0zr3yqMEAfBoF9hyKjXh7eScoecs0m/s400/20171103_193801.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span id="gmail-docs-internal-guid-d9862940-98e2-003c-288f-a9440d07d1cd"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Seemingly not satisfied with our seven game in three days bender last month, Daz and I were linking up again to take in a couple of games together, one in the East Midlands, one in the West like the suave cosmopolitans we are. The first match would be the FA Cup first round clash between Bristol Rovers and League Two leaders Notts County at Meadow Lane. Rovers had been in a bit of a slump of late, losing three league games in a row to Oxford United, the lowly Rochdale and worst of all from my point of view, a</span><a href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/64-new-meadow-shrewsbury-town.html" style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #222222; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">4-0 tonking away at Shrewsbury Town</span></a><span style="color: #222222; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Some cheer had been returned by us overcoming MK Dons 2-0 on the weekend and losing to West Ham Academy in the annual quest to exit the EFL Trophy as early as possible. As an added bonus, misfiring striker Tom Nichols had managed to open his Rovers account with a goal in both games and would hopefully be high on confidence going into this match. I couldn't hand-on-heart claim the same however. With our league away record for the season standing at P8 | W2 | L6 (discounting the hard-fought</span><a href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2017/08/56-craven-cottage-fulham.html" style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #222222; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1-0 win at Craven Cottage in the League Cup</span></a><span style="color: #222222; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) and my personal record standing at P12 | W2 | D3 | L7, it was hard not to feel fatalistic about an encounter with high-flying County, considering also our tendency to flop against lower league opposition. I don't however go to away games to see us win, I go to drink beer, shout and tick off grounds, so I dutifully piled into the Ram express leaving Bristol Parkway and we hit the road along with Duke and Andy Gale.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Notts County, as they like to frequently remind everyone, are the oldest </span><span style="font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">professional </span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">football club in the world (the honour of being the oldest club in general belongs to Sheffield FC who play in the Northern Premier League). Formed in 1862, though anecdotally existing informally before even that, the club has played at Meadow Lane since 1910. Arguably their greatest claim to fame, other than the 1894 FA Cup, is the fact that they were the </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juventus_F.C.#Colours.2C_badge.2C_nicknames_and_symbols" style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">inspiration behind Italian Giants Juventus' black and white striped shirts</span></a><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Perhaps befitting of a club that's been around for such a long time, the Magpies have had a wide variety of successful and not-so successful periods in the league. At present they are at the foot of an almost two decade long slump, having travelled from the old first division all the way down to League Two from the 1991-92 season onward, with only brief respites from fourth tier to third in a general downward spiral. The past two seasons in League Two haven't been too inspiring for them, finishing in 17th and 16th place but they appear to be breaking the juju this time around and have been in an automatic place since September.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The east midlands hasn't been a favourite haunt of Partizan Bristle since I started, to date I've only been to </span><a href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2016/04/23-sixfields-stadium-northampton-town.html" style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Northampton Town</span></a><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> despite my mother originally hailing from the land of Robin Hood and scabs and my great aunt continuing to live as she always has in the village of Bunny (</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bunny,_Nottinghamshire" style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="text-decoration-line: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">no really</span></a><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">). As such I was looking forward to ticking off another classic league ground. One thing I hadn't realised was that the distance between Meadow Land and rivals Nottingham Forest's City Ground was quite literally gobbing distance. 300 yards and (perhaps just as well) the River Trent separate the two adversaries, beaten in the UK only by Dundee's Dens Park and Dundee United's Tannadice Park which in a testament to pure British obstinacy stand on the same road, with no watery barrier, a mere 200 yards apart. </span></span></div>
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After walking round and round the perimeter of the ground in opposite directions a couple of times, Daz and I eventually organised ourselves to the same location and went in. With an away attendance of 454 there was plenty of room to meander about, grab a drink and admire the opulent glossy posters featuring the complete record of meetings, goals and results between the two clubs stretching back all the way to our formation that Notts had stuck up all over the concourse. Thanks, I guess. Must be nice to have that much disposable income, most Rovers fans thought we were living fancy when the new board added the second tent. </span></span></div>
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We took our seats in the Jimmy Sirrel Stand next to the large strip of tarpaulin separating us from... several hundred empty seats. It seems the Friday kick-off to avoid a clash with Forest put off the extra 3.307 that County have been getting on average this season. Perhaps they were all at the last surviving Hooters in the country, conveniently located just across the road from the stadium like Daz was, the sexcase. Not much to say about such an old ground sadly as once again in conforming to the post-Taylor Report world it became another identikit stadium but if I had to sum it up I thought Daz's description as a "mini Molineux" was quite apt.</span></span></div>
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Out on the pitch Rovers unleashed a rare display of early dominance with Liam Sercombe netting in the 8th minute with an assist from Joe Partington. This was followed quickly by an even rarer beast, a Stuart Sinclair goal as the hirsute centre-mid headed home a Chris Lines corner in the 12th minute, dreamland! The small but jubilant crowd of County supporters behind the goal evidently took the advice of the travelling support and stuck their drum up their arse while the blue and white battalion enjoyed an unfamiliar period of tranquillity and confidence, even merrily discussing whether a celebratory slide down the tarpaulin would be worth the shattered limbs and the inevitable appearance on The Lad Bible. Sadly this was not to last. Pretty much immediately after Sinclair's goal, Notts County started getting forward more convincingly and like so many before them often completely bypassing the midfield, as former Champions League semi-finalist Alan Smith did with a cheeky back-heel moments after coming on under drunken screams of "YOU NEVER MADE IT" from Gale. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The tide really turned in the 29th minute when Tom Broadbent brought down Shola Ameobi in the attacking half and Carl Dickinson curled the free-kick perfectly for Ryan Yates to stride past the ponderous Rovers defence and nod home. Not a minute later Yates drew the scores level by bundling a corner into the bottom corner of the net past an incapacitated, or possibly just crap Adam Smith, who was flopping about with his arm across his face as soon as the ball came in. That said, the veteran of weird racist orgies was far from the only man at fault, as other members of the Great Leak of Horfield positioned themselves too far away from the two men at the far post. There were suggestions of a kit-clash due to both sides wearing their half-white half-black/blue home kits in a night game but really if most of our lads can't pick out a set of quarters on a pitch by now questions need to be asked. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I'm sure you can imagine, the atmosphere below ground during half-time wasn't the most jubilant. Really the very least you might expect from a professional football team playing another from the league below would be to defend a two-goal lead longer than 18 minutes. Although Daz and some others were treating it as though Rovers were essentially starting the game over again for the second half, I'd seen this pan out too many times to have any sort of hope. Only the bizarre faces of the Notts County stewards glaring at me from the bottom of the stand could cheer me up now.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On 58 minutes the inevitable happened as the ball was lamped forward from the half way line up to the waiting and totally unmarked Jorge Grant, who trotted leisurely into the box and slid it across to Jon Stead who poked it past Smith for an easy home lead. The only resistance came from Broadbent who stuck his foot out but somehow didn't connect with the cross and Lee Brown he was level with Grant the whole time but apparently powerless to affect the shot in any way. Notts set off the drabbest flare ever and I gaze up to the sky and think about the life choices that lead me to this point. Having about as much will to continue as most of the crowd at this point, Rovers let in yet another goal in the 6th minute of injury time, as the ball was again played out to a home player in the corner in acres of space, this time Forrest loanee Jorge Grant, who skipped forward into a one-on-one with zero resistance and shot it past Smith, who couldn't seem to decide whether he should come out of goal and try and smother the attack or not, eventually tiptoeing forward and doing a little jump before falling to his knees and watching the ball over his shoulder.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Really I expected nothing from this game and only went along as a warm-up to the real football tomorrow in the form of Sporting Khalsa vs. Coventry United. I can't see myself heading out to another Rovers game until the great BRFC derby against Blackburn Rovers at the end of the month where hopefully some regrouping will have occurred in the meantime. </span></span></div>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-57036377882086698022017-11-01T10:23:00.001-07:002018-04-30T05:05:26.990-07:00#65 Greenbank Road, AEK Boco<b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">AEK Boco Ladies 1 </b><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><b>Ilminster Town</b></span></span><b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"> Ladies 4</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Sunday 29th October 2017, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">South West Women's Football League Premier Division </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">It was a lazy dog-dangling afternoon in North Bristol. I spent the previous afternoon watching Rovers overcome MK Dons in a hard-fought and mostly quite dull 2-0 win at the Mem. With a totally free Sunday ahead of me I was in the mood for a nice simple local match. A pasty of a match, if you will. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Although AEK Boco sound like one of those obscure Cypriot teams that get pummelled in the Champions League every year, they are in fact a Gloucestershire County League team from Hanham. They got their odd name when they formed in 2003 as a merger of two local youth sides named AEK Rangers and Boco Juniors (who were themselves named after the Argentinian Champions). They club focused on youth development and helped produce such household names as Julian Dicks, Mark Cooper and Paul Mardon. On the senior side of things Boco first joined the Gloucestershire County League in 2014-15 and immediately finished as runner-up in only their first season on goal difference. They built on this by winning the league the season after but didn't go up to the Western League, the ground is barren enough that it's hard to imagine they applied to. The club levelled out last season to a respectable mid-table 7th. As for the ladies team (or Bocettes, if you will) they won a double in 2015-16 where they finished the Gloucestershire County Womens Football League season as champions and overcame Abbeymead Rovers Ladies 8-0 at Oaklands Park to bag the Gordon Perrett Memorial Cup. The next season they finished as runners-up in the South West Women's Football League Eastern Division and moved up to the Premier where they find themselves today facing Somerset's Ilminster Town, or; the Ili Fillies (sorry).</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAz72h1vVisDLxtWu3v2tTY0f86jkBbur1b9bxIdDRxLAoVvIPGnVDjs1YEJ8s0D4vUFQnNHUcLILFSpinkPRucSly3RDb-1ACWOaEJhSjZkGMkDHe2jXSTQOmY4pFZNZ9nLx-ZD3IU4Te/s1600/DSCF4147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAz72h1vVisDLxtWu3v2tTY0f86jkBbur1b9bxIdDRxLAoVvIPGnVDjs1YEJ8s0D4vUFQnNHUcLILFSpinkPRucSly3RDb-1ACWOaEJhSjZkGMkDHe2jXSTQOmY4pFZNZ9nLx-ZD3IU4Te/s200/DSCF4147.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUj2Uuvh1nMRZBBCbyzU7yPvwjCIcMljKxNQun1Xy5jr7AR31ykrQO6lpiSq_WIXYqPYlvpRt-zK85FLRE5WjAaOQ9uZ8f8_ZGcCR1DNWKZAPiIxOVX0WZIcPEFc4mZ2oGxV1qHHDywgCJ/s1600/DSCF4148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUj2Uuvh1nMRZBBCbyzU7yPvwjCIcMljKxNQun1Xy5jr7AR31ykrQO6lpiSq_WIXYqPYlvpRt-zK85FLRE5WjAaOQ9uZ8f8_ZGcCR1DNWKZAPiIxOVX0WZIcPEFc4mZ2oGxV1qHHDywgCJ/s200/DSCF4148.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">There's not a lot to say about the ground, like many County League venues it's basically just a ringed-off field. The club house is a hulking grey beast with a surprising array of tightly-spaced metal bars making the whole thing look a bit like an old western jail. The shelves inside were absolutely crammed with trophies of every shape and size, which I suppose is a natural consequence of having a million youth teams like Boco do. As I popped in before the game to use the facilities, I was quickly set upon by a bald middle-aged man who, I presume jokingly, questioned me loudly on why I was taking my camera into the toilet. I engaged the tried and tested smile and back away technique and escaped unscathed. I would later overhear that this prince of Northavon had decided that the best way to enjoy this youth game would be to imbibe in four pints before kick-off, a method of soothing the ache of the previous night's revels in legendary Kingswood drinking establishment Chasers, so I suppose we have to let him off.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">First contact with the natives survived, I trudged out to the pitch and was surprised to see the beginnings of a youth game taking place on the main pitch and some even younger whippersnappers having a kick-about on the other pitch below. Thinking I'd maybe gotten the wrong day, I dutifully started watching Bitton Youth vs presumably AEK Youth but who knows and saw a Bitton goal within the first 5 minutes. The aforementioned second pitch sits at the bottom of a steep grass verge so I was able to keep making the odd glance over to check the game I thought I'd be watching wasn't taking place down there. Eventually it did start and for a while I kind of stumbled around in a small circle trying to watch both games but that didn't really work so I headed down the hill for the women's kick-off.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Sitting on the grass bank for an elevated view was about as basic as it gets but I was quite enjoying getting back to football in it's most primitive form for the afternoon. I knew that my rival and colleague Daz Knapton would have a few words to say about how I wasn't allowed to count a field in our most-grounds-visited competition but I didn't care. The game kicked off and Ilminster looked threatening often during the opening exchanges but AEK's number 2, a center back, was tenacious in defense and kept her team square with their opponents by stamping out many a threatening attack, occasionally literally. Eventually though the home team were opened up when a Maisie Poole found space in the corner to whip in a cross that met Shannon Crouch so close to the goalmouth there was little hope for the keeper. This was celebrated with what seems to have become a staple in the women's game: an elaborate secret handshake.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">As I watched the game I became aware of a man next to me who was periodically recording what sounded like commentary into a phone in what I'd guess was Spanish. It seemed unlikely that a Mediterranean Boco fan group had sent a reporter out to broadcast the game so he would have to remain a mystery. Being able to, as always, hear every verbal exchange on the pitch gave me insight as to how our female amateur players conducted themselves around their teammates. An impassioned cry of "Charlie, I'm over here bitch!" told me that it was pretty similar to the men's game.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">The landscape which I'd considered too unremarkable to write about did actually come into play as Boco began using the grass slope to get a better run-up for trow-ins and as I had predicted from the get-go, we were visited by several stray balls from the main pitch. A return was attempted by one of the Ilminster subs but she shanked it so badly that it nearly ended up lamping an old couple sat on a picnic blanket. Later their male manager returned another with a mighty hoof which he seemed pleased with initially but his face turned to a frown before announcing to the small crowd "Oh. Wind took it..." so obviously that went awry as well. You can't get the staff.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Non-league tire swings</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Boko tested the keeper with a long range free kick on minute 28 which started a much more positive passage of play from them. Things remained quite even for a while but after a sub for Town they find themselves in another one-on-one which was only denied when the AEK keeper managed to drop just at the right time to keep it out with her knees. These Higuitaian antics couldn't prevent Town netting their second in the 4th minute of the second half which at the time looked like it might have been an own goal. A corner came in and the last person I saw touch the ball after a brief tussle was Town's very tall number 7 winger who came on as a sub. It definitely changed direction after that though and Twitter helpfully informs me that "Dee" ended up tucking it away at the back post from a tight angle. Good on her. Turns out having moved to ground level I couldn't really see what was going on anymore. Also the ball kept bouncing out my way and I'd have to ham-fistedly palm it back to one of the players from the touchline or ferret around in the undergrowth for strays. I was so close to the action while doing this I ended-up feeling like someone's over keen parent/coach and had to resist the temptation to bellow "SQUEEEEEZE!" at random intervals.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Boco got their first meaningful chance of the second period from a corner that ended up being hit agonisingly just over the crossbar. To make matters worse, Ilminster immediately mounted an attack from the resultant goal kick and managed to hit the bottom of the crossbar. This seemed to encourage them and Town proceeded to produce a series of very threatening looking breaks and to be honest, as the game reached it's final third, the difference in quality was showing a bit. Town were able to spray the ball around well from midfield and control the resultant crosses with silky headers and chested down touches. They seemed quicker and trickier and by contrast a lot of the body blocking AEK did well at before the first goal just no longer payed dividends as their opponents skipped nimbly past.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">However just when all seemed lost, AEK got themselves a free kick in the 80th minute. It was a tempting angle and distance for a right footed player to curl one into the box which the player that stepped-up did. Her direct attempt was saved but a teammate was on hand to tap in the rebound. This caused jubilation among the Boco players and a small but heated argument in the Town ranks. I wondered if that seed of discontent might let Boco back in to the game if they kept at it for the final ten.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Smelling an upset, AEK got everyone up for a corner in the 89th minute but the Town keeper rushed forward and punched the danger clear. Once again Boco found themselves caught out on the break and Crouch converted a one-on-one for her brace. Minutes later Poole notches a fourth from an angle against very little resistance. Ilminster seem so confident at this point that someone tries an overhead kick, which sadly wasn't to be a repeat of the heroics I'd previously seen from Fry Club earlier this year.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">It had been quite an entertaining game and considering the cost of entry (bugger all) you may well see some more County League level reports on this here blog. For now though it was time to go home and prepare for yet another midlands double header on the weekend.</span></div>
partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-59499097288205990692017-10-25T15:28:00.001-07:002017-11-06T10:39:18.074-08:00#64 New Meadow, Shrewsbury Town<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">
<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Shrewsbury Town 4 Bristol Rovers 0</b><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Tuesday 17th October 2017, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">League One</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Ahh, the great British midweek night game. What better chance for fans across the length</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"> and breadth of these green and pleasant isles to make those long and difficult trips into obscure parts in search of those all-important Super Fan Points</span><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">™. My best effort so far was Bury away on a Tuesday night but this is paled by Gasheads I know who partook in feats such as 2015's infamous Hartlepool away on a Tuesday night. No, I have no earthly clue why the fixture people hate us so much. Although tonight's trip was indeed a Tuesday night game, a mere 2 and a half hour trip into Shopshire wouldn't be too much skin off anyone's nose and as my mate Matt (<a href="http://goneforaburtone.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Gone for a Burton</a>) had been given rare licence to roam due to it being his birthday, we decided to venture out. Joining us in the Burtmobile would be Gas girl wonder, Briony. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">We made a split-second decision to take the country roads instead of the motorway which turned out to be a prudent move as roadworks continued to </span><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">wreak havoc across the midlands. This caused the cars full of other groups we knew getting caught up and arriving late, though in hindsight they might have been the lucky ones. Shropshire continues to baffle me by virtue of there being as far as I can tell no one living there. At no point did this feeling come to a head more than when we passed a lovely looking country pub with approximately one house within a mile radius of it. So either it has a lot of drunk driving patrons or is someone's personal pub. Now that's fancy living. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most scenic of roadside pisses.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Upon arrival in the town, we were advised by two policemen to park in a nearby garden center and walk to the ground from there, paying £5 for the privilege. As such we didn't have any time to examine our surroundings or look for pubs but it did look from our brisk walk that New Meadow is another out-of-town modern ground with not a lot going on around it. I stand to be corrected if I ever go again. As we were drawing close to the stadium, Briony announced that she had been in telephonic cahoots with none other than club president Wael Al-Qudi who was apparently waiting for us outside the away end. What a dark horse! It's true that El Presidente is no stranger to </span></span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=https://www.bristolrovers.co.uk/contentassets/4bf28344f02a487f9a034062955a8e85/wael-1600235-3393638_1600x900/Large&source=gmail&ust=1509037818707000&usg=AFQjCNFrjXI3EgZqiRJnq3DVc-OsDyWvCw" href="https://www.bristolrovers.co.uk/contentassets/4bf28344f02a487f9a034062955a8e85/wael-1600235-3393638_1600x900/Large" style="color: #1155cc; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;" target="_blank">slumming it with us mortals on match day</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"> but this is the first time Matt or I had encountered him. He was a very polite and talkative chap who put up with our wide array of stupid questions admirably well. Fair play. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">As we chatted and waited for kick-off, the customary Weetabix missiles began sailing past, shattering into powdery, fibrous lumps upon contact with the cold concrete. As I can sense the raised eyebrows of readers that don't follow the Gas or Salop, allow me to shed some light on this strange practice. The Weetabix Derby as it is commonly known for obvious reasons refers in the modern era to meetings between Shrewsbury Town and Bristol Rovers, stretching back to when they were in their previous ground Gay Meadow. The story goes that a group of fans had saved their money for a coach up to an away game at Shrewsbury and ended up having a ton of money left over. The bulk of this was spent in a local pub having an absolute rager of a drinking session but after becoming hungry, the group equipped one of their members with £75 to go and buy lunch from a local supermarket. This chap's alcohol-impaired judgement somehow allowed him, so the story goes, to return to the pub carrying £75 worth of the wheaty breakfast item in question. This bounty found it's way into the ground and was promptly fed to a small flog of birds congregated by the corner flag by our venerable gaggle of pissheads. This wholesome activity gradually deteriorated into a mass food fight which was apparently an awesome enough spectacle for everyone to want to recreate this every time the two teams played each other, including during the 2007 League Two play-off final. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">The scale of the event has led to the frankly hilarious act of police and stewards searching attendees en masse to try and prevent any of the grainy contraband from being misused in the stands. Thankfully, supporters have stepped up their ingenuity and although a full-scale brawl is out of the question these days, a few projectiles are a staple tradition of the season calendar. Here's my friend Matt smuggling a few boxes in last season: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Longtime readers of this blog will know I don't like covering new-build grounds as a rule because I always end up sounding like a mean-spirited football Luddite. Try as I might I can think of absolutely nothing to write about New Meadow which is made up of four identical stands plonked by a car park in the Shropshire wilderness. The only slight quirk would have been the <a href="https://i.imgur.com/AHNXZgP.jpg" style="color: #1155cc;">circular banks of temporary seating in the far corners</a> but even these have since been removed. This leaves New Meadow feeling like a distinctly identikit stadium in the main with little of the traditional charm of their previous home <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCJlIbp1czrcs41_5WQidXH4WOSl3s3FjESW9b4OsfCk6Spgvp2YzA9tgGB0zBg8T99Mr31XXkaXwqeYC20Rp6X2QdhVZP9WpZQaomdJhFBwPk_xME6Yy5prKy247kFJsivTEmwBZgm2z/s0/Gay+Meadow+Panoramic+1.jpg" style="color: #1155cc;">Gay Meadow</a>, which is now a very <a href="https://i.imgur.com/oMKYU4O.jpg" style="color: #1155cc;">fetching housing development</a>. One thing that will soon set apart the ground from the rest is that Shrewsbury are about to install the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/football/2017/oct/17/shrewsbury-town-crowdfunding-safe-standing-montgomery-waters-meadow-ground" style="color: #1155cc;">first section of safe-standing in an English football ground</a>. It's an exciting push for something that's been hankered after in the English leagues for a long time and will be an excellent home for the small gaggle of Shrewsbury ultras located to our immediate right, with their flags and their loud, ironic chants of "we are staying up!"</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">To save putting myself through the highlights of the match, I have decided to try a different, more modern approach to reporting. Please enjoy the following off-the-cuff "vlogged" report of the action on the pitch:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">With that out of the way I would also like to discuss the New Meadow pie situation, if only to fill some space. After the third goal went in I'd decided I'd seen enough and dived in to get Matt and I some vittles. In the ground they sell Wrights pastries (Wrights is a Stoke-based version of Greggs, for the uninitiated) and I settled on a pair of steak and ale numbers which went down a treat and had a pleasingly rich gravy filling. If I had to criticise I'd have to say that the pastry was, if anything, too good. As I was eating the pie in my customary fashion, bare handed like a starving jackal, I quickly ran out of structurally integral crust as it crumbled away due to it's sheer flakiness. Now I love a flaky pastry but I must admit I wouldn't have appreciated having to make a return trip to the counter to get a fork had I not been witnessing the worst half of football I'd ever seen my team play. Some constructive criticism going forward for the good folks at Wrights there.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">So a particularly bad night on the road for Rovers against a side that look like they might be able to do the business this season. Ultimately you need nights like this so you can be an insufferable prick about it years later in the pub. </span></span></div>
partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-35157562692643781902017-10-18T16:01:00.000-07:002017-11-06T10:39:09.659-08:00#63 Darby Way, Bishops Lydeard<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><b>Bishops Lydeard</b></span><b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif;"> 2 Cheddar 3</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;">Sunday 8th October 2017, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;">Western League Division One</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjADg68d5ij6eyzmZlnIimrGlqQuf9gEGShiZhfxFRzyAbYcH8Kr2tTblE4R5_ybYvp1DPIYpWwGHqz8eFlzMRBJg95gBXyQK8BDpyIfhJHQoz_cCtLFO1bxWSh7yXUT38Gq53x3e3Khs6-/s1600/DSCF4137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjADg68d5ij6eyzmZlnIimrGlqQuf9gEGShiZhfxFRzyAbYcH8Kr2tTblE4R5_ybYvp1DPIYpWwGHqz8eFlzMRBJg95gBXyQK8BDpyIfhJHQoz_cCtLFO1bxWSh7yXUT38Gq53x3e3Khs6-/s400/DSCF4137.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;">You know you're about to watch an obscure side when their <a href="http://www.fchd.info/BISHOPSL.HTM" target="_blank">FCHD page only goes back to 2003-04</a>. You'll have to forgive that very nerdy point of reference but Bishops Lydeard, newcomers to the Western League, haven't had the most celebrated history. Since being established in 1912, the little club from just outside Taunton have spent their time in the Taunton & District League and the Somerset County League, progressing slowly but surely until finally grasping that all-important promotion in the Toolstation promised land last season. Sustainable growth is really the golden standard when you're a side like this. The village has a population of less than 3,000 but Darby Way is still a tidy facility with plenty of charm, most of which comes from the breathtaking view out from the clubhouse side.</span><br />
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This suitably epic landscape was a fitting way to end an equally epic weekend of football and I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Chris and everyone at the <a href="http://www.granddaysoutnetwork.co.uk/" target="_blank">Grand Days Out Network</a> for organising the groundhop and driving us, the clubs involved for changing their schedules just so a bunch of maniacs could watch seven games in three days, Simon for giving us a lift back on Saturday evening and Daz for being sterling company as always. <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">I'd best get on with the report before the whole blog becomes too saccharine.</span></div>
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Knowing that they had the double appeal of being the final stop of the weekend and the ground most likely to be a new tick for some of the more hardcore attendees, Bishops Lydeard took the somewhat extravagant measure of laying out two massive cauldrons of sophisticated looking curry to bubble outside before kick-off. As nice as this smelled I went for a classic burger. I am not a sophisticated person. Before the match I again found myself perusing <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://www.terrysbadges.co.uk/&source=gmail&ust=1508448720200000&usg=AFQjCNHA2LR1MBe3y-AHqsPnkefBGYzOHA" href="http://www.terrysbadges.co.uk/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Terry's Badges</a>, just in case he happened to have one featuring <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=https://i.imgur.com/S0ecwum.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1508448720200000&usg=AFQjCNEjjdDEPWocimlCeRCWkOyeNZ-BLw" href="https://i.imgur.com/S0ecwum.jpg" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Cheddar's completely mental former logo</a>. Sadly not. </div>
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Naturally with the sides in question this afternoon sitting at 13th and 14th place in the table, we were all hoping for a classic to round the weekend off. It would take only eight minutes for the Cheesemen to get the wheel rolling as Robbi Maggs played in Chris Coombs who shot home at an angle from about 20 yards. Shortly after this we were distracted by a small excitable child next to Daz who had somehow become wedged in the chair. Distracted in that Daz was called in to help prevent the wayward infant from losing a leg in the folding contraption and in that I was finding the whole spectacle pretty hilarious. Another notable in the crowd was a Cheddar supporting chap who, in his self-appointed role of team psychologist, would bellow things like "It's fine! It's okay! It's one of those things! It's in the past!" for about 30 seconds after his team made a mistake. That kind of unconditional support and stoicism is very rare indeed in the west county. </div>
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In the 28th minute a similar strike to the first goal was deftly kept out by Bishop's keeper Sam Carreau as he dived in the nick of time to make a one-handed save in the bottom corner. Minutes later Carreau was forced to rush out of goal to tackle Cheddar's Sam King, who was in a one-on-one situation that Carreau himself had created with a bit of dodgy distribution. However he compounded the problem when he went to ground with his tackle but failed to relieve his attacker of the ball in the process. His blushes were spared when the resultant shot sailed wide of the post, the Fuck-up Fairy having gotten bored of him and settled on King's shoulder instead.</div>
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Very much against the churn of the game so far, Bishops Lydeard clawed back an equaliser in the 39th minute as Charlie Wilson wriggled free on the left-wing and sent a cross into the box which James Quick smashed into the roof of goal from point plank range. This caused absolute disarray in the Cheddar ranks, evidenced by the fact that Quick's corner in the last minute of the half was missed by everyone in a yellow shirt and fell to Ben Hebditch to Caerphilly slot into goal to put his side ahead at the break. (I'm done now, sorry). After an opening 45 minutes full of decent chances for Cheddar, I imagined they'd be entering the changing rooms anticipating a grating from their manager. (ARRRGH).</div>
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Back out for the second half Sam Carreau continued to be an absolute Don between the sticks for Lydeard, making two vital saves for the home team right off the bat. One of which, if you believe Cheddar's website was "a save more akin to Gordon Banks of World Cup fame!" I wouldn't go that far but he was having a good game. All this pressure eventually led to Cheddar giving away a penalty as Nathan Best pushed Quick in the box but the lackluster strike pinged off the post and into Liam Kingston's grateful hands. This filled Daz and I with childlike excitement, as it was rapidly turning into a game that had everything. </div>
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Tiptoeing back from the precipice of gifting their opponents the three points, Cheddar regroup and force a number of saves and even score an offside goal before finally getting their deserved equaliser via a delicious Adam Jones volley in the 63rd minute. A point each would have been about fair but positively foaming to make up for missed chances Cheddar continued to turn the screw and in the 74th minute pulled ahead through Ricky Bennett who fired a powerful shot from midfield that Carreau got a hand to but couldn't prevent from bobbling into goal. A heartbreaking blow for our hosts but not altogether unexpected as Cheddar continued pelting the side netting throughout the final minutes, even managing to miss another open goal! Truth be told if both teams had taken all their chances it could've been 10-3 to Cheddar but football rarely works like that and the Western League new boys can be proud of a robust performance against an established side going forward. For us though it was time to head back to Weston-Super-Mare and hope that Daz's car was still there.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8UfTlRGH_KFZvRYh0FbEv0OL7bj80Z9OONjSrtU1NT_7FuCTr1LGiO6hSpvnho6E8KzKHOglq7AooZN4ywagE3gUnOW1uNWwCYIEozoQd3UbPWNFwean5qHcw-gmUo7NGOWYUd4PK5id/s1600/DSCF4146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8UfTlRGH_KFZvRYh0FbEv0OL7bj80Z9OONjSrtU1NT_7FuCTr1LGiO6hSpvnho6E8KzKHOglq7AooZN4ywagE3gUnOW1uNWwCYIEozoQd3UbPWNFwean5qHcw-gmUo7NGOWYUd4PK5id/s200/DSCF4146.JPG" width="200" /></a>partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-25484671174782645072017-10-16T13:10:00.001-07:002017-11-06T10:38:54.787-08:00#62 West Shepton Playing Fields, Shepton Mallet<b style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Shepton Mallet 4 Brislington 1</b><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Sunday 8th October 2017, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Western League Premier Division</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; white-space: pre-wrap;">Today was never likely to be easy. After a long Saturday evening of footy where we saw some classic battles in the form of Odd Down vs. Bitton (2-2), Hengrove Athletic vs. Hallen (3-3), Tom & Daz vs. Pints (24-0) and Tom vs. Fridge Door (0-1), we were perhaps understandably tired and feeling a considerable amount of regret. The hop stops for no man however, so it was time to get in my car and pootle off to darkest Somerset for round three of the Western League marathon. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was always going to be a struggle to get to the game on time but it didn't help that we'd read the wrong time off the website so once we arrived we'd missed the first half an hour and two goals, one being scored mere seconds before our entrance judging by the roar of the crowd as we walked up to the ground. Luckily Duke (who seems to turn up at every ground I go to these days) was on hand to clue us in. Dressed resplendently in khaki raincoat and cap, fresh from his morning hike up Glastonbury tor and looking somewhere between Swedish backpacker and Polish hooligan, he explained that the goals were nothing too special and as I can't find any match reports online that'll have to do.</span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-beb756f0-273b-878b-84a3-9cc0048e28bb"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The stands of the ground are greatly varied in terms of both age, size and shabbiness. When we got into the ground we immediately took up position in the standing section opposite the main stand, a modern curved cantilever roofed contraption that kind of reminded me of the weird, new-age motorway services they have in Gloucester. </span><a href="https://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/06/9d/41/35/gloucester-services.jpg" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No really</span></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. It has two levels to watch from and some Blackthorn adverts running along the back, the latest attempt from the ailing company to win back the crown from Thatchers in this all-important constituency. The adjacent main stand is a big rickety corrugated iron beast with the same traditional wooden steps we saw yesterday at Radstock but this time with and black and white plastic chairs tacked on in an effort to move with the times. These chairs also featured in the noticeably squat team shelters, which Jack expressed a dislike to as in his own words: "You don't want separate chairs on your bench. Not at this level. That's Tory. You want a good socialist bench that everyone can share." Whatever that means.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A sign that Mallet had their gaze firmly on the stars was the small square of metal cut out at the back of the main stand ready for the inevitable day the TV cameras roll in. The stand extends back so far that the tree branches and fence behind combine to form a little tunnel that you have to pass through to get to the rest of the ground. The only other structure in the ground apart from the clubhouse is a squat little modern seated stand called "</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Dean Gregort (Gregsy) Memorial Stand" [sic]. This sits to the side of the near goal and has room for about 30, plus 2 if you count the tiny stone bench right next to it. Spoilt for choice this lot.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">West Shepton Playing Fields is another lush, conifer entombed arena rich in small west country town sleepiness and hearty, full-blooded (and often slightly unhinged) Western League football skirmishing. It might just be because I was feeling quite sensitive to noise that morning but the game did strike me as the most ill-tempered of the seven matches, with plenty of inter-team mate bickering and general effing and jeffing. This intensity extended even to the crowd, none more so than a lone gentleman stood in front of us, freshly purchased copy of </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Western League: the First 125 Years </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">tucked under his arm who was keeping a forceful, mumbled commentary to himself, seemingly not supporting either team but encouraging violent play and admonishing any and all referee interference in typical old guy footy fan fashion. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Looking resplendent in their black and white quartered shirts it was the home side that were really dominating proceedings, in more ways than just their two goal advantage. The Mallet looked stronger, better organised and more up for it on the day, possibly due to the inflated attendance. Shortly into the second half Mallet added a third goal, as a player took the ball down the wing and round the back of the defenders to put in the cross. Unfortunately no one got on the end of this for the easy tap-in but it eventually did fall to Ash Willmott who lobbed it back into the box for James Billing to nod in to the bottom corner. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Brislington do finally pull back a consolation goal in hilarious fashion as an ambitious bicey fails utterly but the resultant stray ball is tucked away but another forward, who might have just preferred a simple pass, was facing in the correct direction. Mallet reassert their dominance very quickly through a lofted through-ball on the break which Billing raced forward with until it was one-on-one. Full of confidence, the forward stuck it into the top of the net from 18 yards to complete his hat-trick. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of the three new grounds on this trip I'd have to say West Shipton Playing Fields was my favourite. A nice easy-to-follow one-sided game in the sun was a great way to blow off the cobwebs of the morning and get warmed up for what would be the most thrilling game of the seven later on that afternoon.</span></div>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-3438477788154904352017-10-10T09:23:00.001-07:002017-11-06T10:38:19.367-08:00#61 Southfields Recreation Ground, Radstock Town<b style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Radstock Town 1 Oldland Abbotonians 0</span></span></b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Saturday 8th September 2017, Western League First</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"> Division</span></span><br />
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[Disclaimer: Due to the sheer amount of football and beer Daz and myself consumed over the last 72 hours, I have a lot of posts to write and a lot of the finer details of the actual matches have sort of merged into one. As a result expect the following three posts to be shorter and crapper than you're used to.]<br />
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It's that time again ladies and gentlemen. After some very memorable trips together, including a weekend in the <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/12-marston-road-stafford-rangers.html&source=gmail&ust=1507737164429000&usg=AFQjCNGIK5RS3HsRXffLoQy_V2ajP0ftjQ" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/12-marston-road-stafford-rangers.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">west midlands</a>, the <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2016/11/36-oriel-park-dundalk.html&source=gmail&ust=1507737164429000&usg=AFQjCNEoeQoeZHGYMJ8Alxe3AE-8HcHRLA" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2016/11/36-oriel-park-dundalk.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Ireland, Northern Ireland, England and Wales (kind of)</a> extravaganza and last year's <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/50-hand-stadium-clevedon-town.html&source=gmail&ust=1507737164429000&usg=AFQjCNF2GP_tdFkYNFBymtTrRBNeXNpRTA" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/50-hand-stadium-clevedon-town.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Bristol and Clevedon</a> bank holiday bash among others, it was time for my friend and rival <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://pintoffootball.blogspot.co.uk/&source=gmail&ust=1507737164429000&usg=AFQjCNEBr2tYeC1rAsc5O02t6FDPHf-mKg" href="http://pintoffootball.blogspot.co.uk/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Daz Knapton</a> and I to hit the road once more. This jaunt was to be our most voluminous yet as we would be joining the <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://www.granddaysoutnetwork.co.uk/&source=gmail&ust=1507737164429000&usg=AFQjCNHUXAPh4VVmimVzCaX4PJmLDa-9CA" href="http://www.granddaysoutnetwork.co.uk/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Grand Days Out Network</a>'s Western League groundhop and attending seven games in just three days. We'd be visiting a fair amount of old favorites as well as three new grounds for myself and five for Daz. As a warm-up on the Friday I returned to <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/11/14-lancer-scott-stadium-ashton-and.html&source=gmail&ust=1507737164429000&usg=AFQjCNGjTpg_QdJXBOFy6Usq-e9aLwhAkQ" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2015/11/14-lancer-scott-stadium-ashton-and.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Ashton and Backwell</a> to watch the Stags overcome Bishop Sutton 2-1, you can read Daz's report of that <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://pintoffootball.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/06102017-review-ashton-backwell-united.html&source=gmail&ust=1507737164429000&usg=AFQjCNECt5ovpNqH6sup_ElYjh_eKy7jRA" href="http://pintoffootball.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/06102017-review-ashton-backwell-united.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">here</a>. The next morning we got up bright and early and headed to Weston to grab the coach. While we were waiting we encountered one of Weston's many and varied drunken eccentrics, a chap named Wayne who had wandered into the hotel from the street and proceeded to spend five minutes forcing us to guess his name via the medium of charades. A hearty sigh of relief was sighed by both of us when we didn't get on the bus.<br />
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The second match of the trip was another familiar ground in the form of <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/25-west-clewes-welton-rovers.html&source=gmail&ust=1507737164429000&usg=AFQjCNFcQGNyedXwTnxZmCXQl_iVYov5qg" href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/25-west-clewes-welton-rovers.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Welton Rovers</a>, where the boys in green won a 3-1 victory over Keynsham Town in their bid to re-enter the Western League Premier. A quick minibus jaunt later and we were in the home of Welton's arch-rivals Radstock Town the Southfields Recreation Ground.<br />
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When we arrived the clubhouse was already a hive of groundhopping furor, with badge and programme swapping galore and reams of peculiar old gentlemen crowding the doorways to meticulously note down the line-ups. After grabbing a pint and a new Rovers badge off the venerable <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://www.terrysbadges.co.uk/&source=gmail&ust=1507737164429000&usg=AFQjCNGAVJx3-nbnVhNlt4SuuH7k8SHlUQ" href="http://www.terrysbadges.co.uk/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Terry's Badges</a>, I meandered out into the bright autumn afternoon. Radstock, like their Coalfield Classico counterparts have been in the Western League since time immemorial but Welton get bragging rights for not falling into the Somerset County League for a decade like Radstock did in the 90s. However neither team have ventured any higher than the Western Premier in 130 years. Welton groundshared with Radstock for one season in 1961 while West Clewes was having it's pitch leveled. <br />
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Without diving into some very dusty, specialist Western League tomes I couldn't tell you how long The Miners have been at their current digs but by the look of the grand old wooden stand that makes up the only covered viewing area in the ground, I'd wager it's a pretty long time. The stand is made up of six large wooden steps that you can sit or stand on, enclosed by brick sides and a corrugated iron roof. The whole thing is held up by mighty metal girders painted bright red, the club colour. <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://www.pyramidpassion.co.uk/assets/images/Radstock_1.jpg&source=gmail&ust=1507737164429000&usg=AFQjCNGTKGV3OoaTlglhpoQ7ZkinP_b_YQ" href="http://www.pyramidpassion.co.uk/assets/images/Radstock_1.jpg" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">If old pictures are anything to go by</a> then the stand has had a bit of an update in the last decade to make it less ramshackle but is still a lovely traditional centrepiece. I say centrepiece but the stand is really all there is to the ground, aside from a tiny bit of shelter overhanging the clubhouse exterior.<br />
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The ground was a picture of autumnal beauty in the early afternoon sun. The leaves that covered vast swathes of the pitch probably weren't conducive to a slick-passing playing surface but they certainly looked sweet. I was starting to get too pissed to care about the quality of football anyway. Much to the chagrin of our coach-mate Willie, who would tut patriarchally every time he clocked Daz and I staggering about with a fresh pint. In fairness to the chap I did manage to make a twat of myself early doors by sitting on the white wall by the pitch to get a side-on picture of the action, not realising it had been painted for the occasion and spending the rest of the day with an even whiter than usual arse. I'd like to give a shout out to the facilitator of this drunken horseplay, the lady on the bar who was working it on her 40th birthday. A true legend of the non-league.<br />
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Other than that, the only other recountable feature of the ground is the fact that if you want to stand behind the far goal, you have to in fact leave the ground and go behind the chain-link fence of the neighboring park. I discovered this when I struck up a conversation with a chap in a Rovers jacket from about 20 feet who I initially thought was just getting a sneaky free show. We mutually expressed doubt that Rovers' international duty back-up defenders would stand much chance away at Northampton that day. Jokes on us though because they won 6-0.<br />
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The main reason for this chat was probably the fact that the game unfolding before us wasn't exactly a classic. In fact the single goal of the 90 was an admittedly impressive own goal from Oldland, the result of an outfield player responding to a ball bouncing slowly into the 6 yard box by rushing back and panickedly lobbing it into the roof of his own net. Other than that the only other action was a Radstock player getting absolutely munched right in front of us in the second half with a turf-ruining slide tackle.<br />
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With nothing much else to say on this one, I'm going to dive right into the tomfoolery. During the first half, a lady came round with a bucket and asked Daz to draw the raffle. This was awkward as even with the much-inflated attendance of 213, it seemed a distinct possibility that he was going to draw himself and be forced to sheepishly carry a prize four pack of Thatchers back to his seat past the accusing eyes of everyone in the ground. Fortunately, he pulled out the ticket of the bloke sat directly behind us so instead we were momentarily very popular. Also the ref had bleached blond hair like he was in a 00's nu-metal band.<br />
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All-in-all another good addition to the old Western League tally and the mere tip of the iceberg for this long weekend of Somerset silliness.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because there is always a playground at a Western League ground.</td></tr>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-34611189565028309262017-10-06T15:34:00.001-07:002017-11-06T10:38:08.594-08:00#60 Badgers Hill, Frome Town<b style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Frome Town 0 Hereford 3</b><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Wednesday 27th September 2017, </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Southern League Premier Division</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Readers will by now be well aware of my main motivating factor this season: beating the East Riding eejit that is Daz Knapton. With my main rival stuck doing late shifts this week, not to mention the prospect of the<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://www.granddaysoutnetwork.co.uk/Western%25202017%255B66%255D.pdf&source=gmail&ust=1506961735653000&usg=AFQjCNGTnU5tVcuP4IcWp31T_T5Waz0nbg" href="http://www.granddaysoutnetwork.co.uk/Western%202017%5B66%5D.pdf" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank"> Western League Groundhop</a> next weekend where Daz would be ticking off five new grounds compared to the three that would be new to me. So, like the man who affixes a superfluous noise-generating exhaust to his Fiat Punto after his neighbor buys a sports car, I continue to attempt to close the gap with the least amount of effort possible. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">The most interesting and easily accessible match on this Wednesday night was a Southern League Premier clash between Frome Town, who were playing their seventh consecutive season in the 7th tier and the reformed Hereford who, symbolically enough, find themselves back in the division they were cast down into for the 2014-15 season but didn't survive for long enough to play in. We all know the tale of Hereford United's final years so I won't bore you with the sorry details, instead I'll move right along to the happier sequel. Since launching in 2014 the phoenix club have done pretty much exactly as well as everyone expected them to. Two successive promotions (both as champions) from the Midland Premier and the Southern South & West, scooping up two Herefordshire County Cups and a Midland Football League Cup as well as retaining attendances in the mid-2000s with the odd sell-out match, the journey back has been a pleasant one for the Bulls faithful. The only slight blotch in the record being losing the 2016 FA Vase final at Wembley to Northumberland's Morpeth Town but judging by the guard of honor the Hereford players made for them as they received their trophy, they weren't taking it too hard. For fans, it seemed enough simply to be back at the national stadium with a 20,000 strong following behind them.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">For the Robins of Frome Town progress has come at a more steady pace. Languishing in the Western League pretty much from their inception until 2010 when they were promoted as runners-up due to our old pal ground grading denying Bitton the opportunity. Their next chance to push on came after only two seasons in the eighth tier when they faced Sholing in the play-offs and overcame them 1-0 away from home. Their best FA Cup performance came way back in 1954–55 when a crowd of 8,000 saw them defeated by Leyton Orient and they reached the quarter-finals of the FA Vase in 2004–05. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Hereford will again be strong favorites for promotion but at the time of writing were in 7th place, fighting Banbury United and Slough Town for the final play-off place. Frome sat in a respectable but unspectacular 11th place, which was about customary for them since joining the league. Expecting a tight encounter with Hereford emerging victorious, I set off for the Special Effect</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">™ Stadium (also sponsored by Raves from the Grave Independent Record Shop™) straight from work. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">The weather had been pretty rank all day with multiple scattered showers and by the time I got there the light had all but receded, perfect </span><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">autumnal evening kick-off conditions. As expected the Hereford fans had traveled well, swelling the attendance from Frome's typical 250 to 531. While there were a lot of black and white shirts and scarfs dotted around, it was quite difficult to discern whom the various flatcap-wearing men were aligned to, this being a midlands/west country cider-swilling, farmer derby ooh-ar ooh-ar etc. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farmhand casuals: this tweed don't run.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Whilst waiting for the game to start I decided I'd check the line-ups for luminaries and nearly spat-take my beer to discover that the Nouveau Bulls were managed by none other than former Rovers, Gillingham and City man Peter Beadle. Noticeably rotunder than in his playing days but an interesting name nonetheless. This shouldn't have surprised me as Peter was caretaker manager for Hereford United (becoming the old club's penultimate gaffer) for a month in 2014 after leaving Newport County and having a brief and disastrous spell at Clevedon Town. I'd just lost track of the bloke. Other notables were former Bulls players Ryan Green and Rob Purdie and 20 year-old Cheltenham starlet Adam Page on his second loan to the club. Interestingly, Wikipedia claim that Hereford have a player duel-registered with Partizan Bristle favorites Hereford Lad's Club in the form of Harry Franklin. However unless it turned out to be their </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BJzzWGAepZZNn_5EUBi4gacpDBpN-77a5xh1szmVUBuv0MMbgyi6ykFlLOsr-iCRn4UNcx-vzyzvfuir1tmM_Crp7lud9zbw8mVh7wykkZG38XItfVy2C7N-m2mWWnLL5Sfr4ptfSH_I/s1600/DSCF0275.JPG" style="font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;" target="_blank">Claudio Sanchez lookalike</a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">, I wouldn't have known.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Notable Frome players included Darren Jefferies who had a brief spell with Rovers as a youth and George Miller who made appearances with Preston North End and Accrington Stanley as is currently duel-registered with Gloucester City in Conference South. On the subject of former players, I noticed that some Hereford fans had a flag bearing the name Adam Stansfield, a well-known figure in the West Country lower leagues who spent two seasons with Hereford between 2004 and 2006. A Yeovil lad, Stansfield won an FA Trophy with his hometown club and promotion into the league via play-offs with the Bulls and Exeter City, going on to make 160 appearances for the latter. Tragically, Stansfield died in 2010 aged just 31 after a short battle with colorectal cancer. After so many appearances and two promotions the man is an Exeter legend but it was nice to see a former club he didn't spend all that long at honouring him, obviously a bloke that touched many lives.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Badgers Hill is another West Country ground that's spectacularly well hidden when approached from the road. Concealed behind a thick hedgerow with only a slightly out-of-place looking PVC door wedged in it to hint at what lies behind, I managed to drive straight past until I clocked a sign for overflow car-parking at a nearby school. They were obviously expecting a crowd. With over an hour to go I plodded down the hill for some beer and cricket at the nearby Vine Tree pub where I was immediately taken a dislike to by the landlady's small yappy dog. By the time I entered the ground at about 19:10 it was still fairly empty so I took the chance to mooch around and take pictures unhindered by the anticipated throngs of Herefordians.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">My eyes were immediately drawn to the clubhouse behind the near goal which, in an act of non-league ingenuity, was kind of half clubhouse half covered stand. The building has a large roofed porch coming off the entrances which provides a decent elevated view and ample space for wheelchair users. There is also a ground-level path in front which can house the same amount of standers behind the goal. The whole thing essentially creates a very sparse two-level terrace and watching the match just inches from warmth and provisions is the stuff of dreams, imagine being a Frome fan on a cold Tuesday in </span></span><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">January</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"> watching them get battered and being able to just slink off like that. The dream. </span></span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">On the far side of the ground there is a massive roofed-off section which is so tall it kind of looks like a barn that's been sawed in half. It's height and the fact that there are some rickety-looking wooden crush barriers at the front would make you think that it's a terrace but it's actually just a slight hill, so it's not the best use of space but it does the job and there'd be room for improvement if needed.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Behind the far goal there's a pretty standard easy build seated stand nice and close to the action. Finally there's the main stand on the near side of the ground, a </span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">breezeblock</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"> affair with five rows of seats under cover and six thin metal pillars supporting the corrugated metal roof. I'd wager it's a little on the old side as most of the seats are pretty faded and the few that stick out from under the end of the roof look completely sun-bleached. Looking at old pictures of Badgers Hill online tells me the ground has changed a lot over the years. The main stand for example was half standing half terrace <a href="http://agroundhoppersdiary.blogspot.co.uk/2008/10/frome-town-badgers-hill.html" target="_blank">as recently as 2008</a> and at some point was a <a href="http://www.pitchsidephoto.co.uk/Football/Somerset/FromeTown/i-h4c3TBF" target="_blank">classic wooden stand</a>. As far back as 2004 the sheltered standing opposite the main stand wasn't there, instead that side of the ground was taken up by <a href="http://www.pyramidpassion.co.uk/Frome_touchline.jpg" target="_blank">an approach road running right down the side of the pitch</a>. At some point before that there was a <a href="http://www.pyramidpassion.co.uk/Frome_old_terrace_copyright.jpg" target="_blank">proper terrace</a> on that side but that looks to be long gone. It would seem that a lot of the modernising work was carried out with a view to making the ground more enclosed and overall it wasn't a bad place to be, I even overheard some Hereford fans say it was one of the better grounds they'd been to so far in their mystical non-league journey.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">The only part of the ground that looks a little on the tatty side is the small white brick hut that acts as the players changing room. It's size and general ramshackleness makes it look like the home of a ridiculously stereotypical farmer character from a children's stop-motion animation named something like Cowpatty Burt. It's things like this that make me wonder what Hereford's old heads and fans are making of clubs like Frome and the sleepy towns that surround them.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh0VFQPMIsL0JrLMABvZqC6NPCAdxfzAtl-fpR_b7aiX3V0AgiGwnMkJeoJqOVdPZ2PfgXB7e3X-ibjvR8kDGPXO01SMXfPnf5D6uHeSCsJ-DMkW9M2Ed425Kx_Pzo-PYEyEPEjmfUp5b/s1600/DSCF4048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyh0VFQPMIsL0JrLMABvZqC6NPCAdxfzAtl-fpR_b7aiX3V0AgiGwnMkJeoJqOVdPZ2PfgXB7e3X-ibjvR8kDGPXO01SMXfPnf5D6uHeSCsJ-DMkW9M2Ed425Kx_Pzo-PYEyEPEjmfUp5b/s200/DSCF4048.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"WHO'S JOCKSTRAP IS THIS?" bellowed Burt.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">The game kicked-off and Frome were narrowly on top of a very aerial game in the opening exchanges. Hereford must have felt under some duress as their fans felt the need to bring out their solitary drum. On 11 minutes Hereford force a quick succession of goal-line clearances from a lobbed cross that got closer to the goal than I think anyone was expecting but with 20 minutes gone the game was still anyone's. Frome are able to get forward a lot and make some genuinely lovely touches but play a lot of hopeful balls and have their passes cut out too often. Hereford for their part cross the ball with real menace, when they're given the chance.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">I was all settled in for a tight battle until Garyn Preen opened up the scoring in the 24th minute for Hereford when an attacking player cut in from the wing and stuck a cross into the box. This was headed away but only as far as Preen who dodged a tackle, steadied himself and launched a shot from outside the box. Frome keeper Kyle Phillips ducked down and looked like he'd got it under control but somehow the ball squirmed under him and rolled into the back of the net. A hell of a blow for Frome who were more than matching their opponents until this moment.</span></span><br />
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<h3 class="m_4569125493688422916m_-6515386938478302444gmail-m_-6315585817391267390gmail-m_7375380843855654450gmail-m_-7224352387812678811m_9012848323289523548gmail-m_4889235332048381989gmail-m_1883404904737209677gmail-m_6533144586739965998gmail-m_-8621770891301333809gmail-m_-2883544457175331051gmail-post-title m_4569125493688422916m_-6515386938478302444gmail-m_-6315585817391267390gmail-m_7375380843855654450gmail-m_-7224352387812678811m_9012848323289523548gmail-m_4889235332048381989gmail-m_1883404904737209677gmail-m_6533144586739965998gmail-m_-8621770891301333809gmail-m_-2883544457175331051entry-title" style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;">The goal knocks a lot of the wind out of the home side's sails and John Mills is able to make it 2-0 in the 37nd minute. A ball was floated to the edge of the box inch-perfectly for the rapidly </span></span><span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;">encroaching</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;"> Mills to volley into the bottom-right of goal past the diving hands of Phillips. A peach of a goal. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;">Frome really needed a goal or half-time to come to them and fast but unfortunately their torment wasn't over. In the</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;"> 41st minute</span><span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;"> A ball was pinged from the centre of the pitch to the left wing where Preen took it past the sole defender right down to the touch line and sent it skimming along the ground across the face of goal and </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;">Keyon Reffell stepped forward for the </span></span><span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;">easiest</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;"> tap-in of his life. The least spectacular of the three goals but still a slick bit of passing from Hereford. </span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwjXrqjPxt5mm7aL3rkIiI3kvlTKKDPfUKi9aPcL8Madje6Bqsm6qFDHEsrM6sb63XNWLFtxIfxv0sKMq7JqsBh849A_1cmjvYXu7MIocDzywmywYmQR-eGgQGAxFCOr0bLlSDOh9jBUc/s1600/DSCF4034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwjXrqjPxt5mm7aL3rkIiI3kvlTKKDPfUKi9aPcL8Madje6Bqsm6qFDHEsrM6sb63XNWLFtxIfxv0sKMq7JqsBh849A_1cmjvYXu7MIocDzywmywYmQR-eGgQGAxFCOr0bLlSDOh9jBUc/s320/DSCF4034.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheers Soapy me old mate, you've always been there for me.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;">During second half I decided I'd wander over to the seats behind the Frome goal as a cricket score looked like a distinct possibility. As I sat enjoying the songs and jubilation of the Hereford fans beside me, I caught someone waving at me out of the corner of my eye. This turned out to be Matt of <a href="http://goneforaburtone.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Gone For A Burton</a>, a fellow Bristol groundhopper that I'd first met last year at Larkhall Athletic. Unfortunately for him, Matt had pied off the first half and therefore missed all of the goals. Serves him right for sneaking in. As a magistrate of the Groundhopper's Supreme Court Matt naturally asked me if I reckoned he was still allowed to tick off the ground. I decided in his favor because I am kind and </span></span><span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;">benevolent</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px; font-weight: normal;"> like that. Part of the reason for him coming down to Frome was to attend a game with his mate Ben, who had only just moved to Frome. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">Truthfully, though the Hereford boys continued to pepper the Frome goal for the first 20 minutes or so of the second half, we'd seen the best moments of the match in the first 45. Looking for entertainment, we went over to watch the assistant running the line nearest the entrance who was apparently Ben's mate. I'm sure he did him proud. Despite some mild fisticuffs after a Frome player flattened a Hereford midfielder there wasn't much more to write about. Unfortunately my wait for a non-league mass brawl continues. Here's hoping next weekend's Western League Groundhop (7 games in 3 days) delivers. </span></span></div>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-74970738123669084792017-09-22T01:55:00.000-07:002017-11-06T10:37:53.839-08:00#59 Springfield, Cadbury Heath<b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Cadbury Heath 2 Bridport 3 (1-0 Bridport in ET)</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Wednesday 20th September 2017, FA Cup Second Qualifying Round</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px;">As September began making eyes at the bar and shuffling off stage left like a disinterested am dram performer, I was being left even further in the dust by my friend and colleague Daz Knapton in our <a href="https://twitter.com/POF_Reviews/status/910594051333918721" target="_blank">new ground race</a>. To make matters worse, we had spent the previous evening together watching a very entertaining Football League Cup encounter between Wolves and Rovers at the Molineux, ending in a 1-0 victory for our Championship-dwelling hosts in extra time. The downside to this enjoyable outing was the fact that this was yet another new ground for Daz and only a revisit for me, putting him 7 (seven) ahead of me. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px;">The match at Wolves had left me feeling particularly up for the cup and after scanning the fixtures list I settled on a local match between two Western League sides taking place in Cadbury Heath, South Gloucestershire. Cadbury Heath isn't an area I'm familiar with and turning to Wikipedia to fill me in on a little local knowledge turned out to be a fool's errand.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mother of all stubs.</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;">What I can tell you is that it was a half hour drive from Shirehampton and it's near Longwell Green. Journalism. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Since winning the Western League First Division in 2011/12 Cadbury Heath or; the Heathens, are now an established Premier Division team that’ve finished upper-mid table for the last five seasons. They currently sit in 18th place but are many matches behind the rest of the pack due to cup chaos. It’s pretty much the same story with Dorset’s Bridport except they made the step up a year before Cadbury when they finished the 2010/11 season in third, pipping second-placed Oldland Abbotonians to promotion due to ground grading. A win today would equal the Bees’ best ever FA Cup run from the 1957–58 season where they were knocked out in the third qualifying round away at Portland United. Cadbury’s greatest ever run was in fact last season, where they too were knocked out in the third round qualifying away at Burgess Hill Town. Add to the mix that this is a replay (the fixture at Bridport ended 2-2) and this was on paper a very close contest indeed.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px;">Another person who was brimming with gallus for the chalice was fellow Rovers away tragic Jack “Duke” Newcombe, also fresh(ish) from last night’s Black Country antics. It turns out Jack spent time as a player at Cadbury Heath when he was but a small, mutton chopless child and he ended up getting admirably behind the boys in red and white during the game. It was pissing it down all evening so I didn’t do too much moving around the ground but I’m not going to break the habit of a lifetime by not writing a paragraph or two about some sweet-ass sheds.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px;">Springfield is a fenced-off area of a much larger public playing field, meaning on a number of occasions dogwalkers would pass by and have a chat with their neighbours watching the game. The two stands consist of a large old brick covered standing area and a modern metal seated stand. The standing area is a particularly congenial little nook with only a single step of terracing running along the back, most of which was taken up with various bits of furniture the club seems to be storing there. This stand is so cosy that the tea hatch is actually built into it, leaving no reason for the weather-beaten Western League codger to ever leave this stoney womb in search of caffeinated refreshment. If you want something stronger through you’ll have to venture across the field into the clubhouse where they hawk the beers and baps. There’s not really a lot to say about the seated stand, it’s the same covered metal contraption that you see in a lot of Western League grounds, practical but quirkless. The pitch itself is surrounded by white railing supported by concrete pillars that are painted alternately red and white (the club’s colours) leading to a pleasing old-timey barbers/sweetshop aesthetic.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px;">The ground as a whole was positively buzzing with anticipation as just over 200 hot for the pot (sorry I’l stop this now) Heatheans and Bridportese packed the ground. There was, it must be said, a fair smattering of hardy Dorset folk who’d made the two hour trip on this soggy Wednesday evening. A doff of the PB hooded cagoule to them. Not wanting to disappoint, Bridport notched the first goal after 8 minutes as Richard Hebditch got on the end of a low cross and struck home from 6 yards, sending the gaggle of balloon-wielding Dorset teenagers behind the goal into a Panda Pop induced frenzy. Fourteen minutes later the Bees produce an absolute screamer from 35 yards as Tom Richardson launces a volley over the keeper and into the top left corner, a textbook example of what we in the industry call a “dipping thunderbastard”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This cracking goal, the best I’ve seen this season, goes straight to the heads of the Bridport yoof who begin chanting “you’re just a shit make of chocolate” to their West Country equivalents. The opposing Heath fans don’t have the cutting wit to match but what they do have is a big red airhorn that they begin to sound off whenever the Bridport keeper goes to gather a ball. It doesn’t really work. These rampant displays of hooliganism bear a striking contrast to the lovely old bloke sat in the stands who offers support the only way a stately vintage gentleman can, by swinging a retro wooden football rattle about excitedly whenever the Bees break. Bridport absolutely run the show during the first half and could have quite easily been five up by half time. It was difficult to see how the Heath were going to come back from this one.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;">As cliched as it is to say, football sometimes really is a game of two halves. Cadbury had their tails up from the word go in the second half and got their first goal of the night after 61 minutes. A ball in from the wing was played into the centre and picked up by </span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.3333px;">Simon McElroy who made a very determined run into a shooting position and drove it low, taking advantage of the now sopping wet surface. Heath continued to push and McElroy nearly snapped the post in half with a shot in the 80th minute as the keeper stood rooted to the spot. The resultant goal line scramble when the ball ricocheted off was eventually dealt with by Bridport. Just as it seemed nothing would be enough for Heath to get the second goal they deserved, Matt Huxley wriggled past his marker on the right wing and sprinted himself into a one-on-one with the advancing Brid keeper, opening a window for a simple chipped goal.</span></span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.3333px;"> </span></div>
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Heath came agonisingly close to achieving something I've been desperate to see since I started groundhopping, namely <a href="https://twitter.com/athurston_1996/status/910611390251053056" target="_blank">a keeper scoring after coming up from a corner</a> but it seemed Jack and I were destined to watch another period of extra time on a school night. I can only conclude football doesn't want me to sleep. Jack pointed out to me that Cadbury's pitch was very sloping, which isn't uncommon in the Western League by any means but this one undulates pretty wildly in several different spots rather than having a simple slant to one side. This might go some way to explaining the wild disparity in both teams' performance over the two halves. </div>
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During extra time the two gangs of ultras elected to both stand behind the same goal and for once the general tranquillity of the deep non-league threatened to break as a few of the Bridport yoof got a bit salty. Two of the little scamps came running back to their elders in the stand where we were, grinning from ear-to-ear claiming "Jay's about to get sparked out!" Clearly finished off the Panda Pops and dived right into the Sherbet Fountains. We can only hope Jay finds the help he so clearly needs at this difficult time in a young man's life. </div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13.696px;">After 19 minutes of damp, chilly struggle it was Bridport who walked away with the victory as Ed Butcher cut in from the left and fired past a diving Dan Worton to send the travelling fans wild. The previously absconded teens raced back to their comrades behind the goal to join in the goading of their Cadbury counterparts. As they rushed past the stand, an elder shouted out “keep them teeth in Jay!” to which Jay responded “I’ll try!”</span></div>
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<span style="background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Sadly we weren’t treated to some midweek amateur boxing to cap off the excellent cup match we’d just witnessed but it was a very entertaining 120 minutes all the same, with Jack commenting that Bridport’s second goal had been worth the price of entry alone. The win means Bridport book a glamour(ish) tie away against Conference South St Albans City where they stand to face such luminaries as Ben Herd and David Noble in an attempt to better their current best FA Cup performance. I will not be joining them for that match as it’s a two-hour drive but as a fan of the Western League I wish them luck all the same.</span></div>
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-31969210925101269962017-09-13T16:54:00.000-07:002017-09-13T17:09:25.952-07:00Abandoned: Strahov Stadium6th August 2017<br />
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I'd like to apologise to my loyal readers (hi Mum) for the lack of activity over the last few weeks. I'm still getting into the swing of the new job and after watching Rovers slump to a disappointing 3-2 defeat at home to bottom of the league Oldham Athletic yesterday I decided I couldn't be arsed to go anywhere tonight. Until such a time as I manage to drag myself out of my sleep-deprived hovel, I hope to keep you occupied with the tale of how I dragged my whole family to look around an abandoned Soviet-era stadium on our summer holiday.<br />
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Actually to say Strahov is abandoned is somewhat disingenuous as it's currently the training ground of Czech First League side Sparta Prague. Although the vast majority of the stadium is pretty decrepit nowadays, boring twats like myself will appreciate the fact that it's still standing due to it's colourful history. Strahov first came into being in 1926 as a relatively modest wooden construction designed by Alois Dryák. The stands were made concrete in 1932 and the whole stadium was greatly expanded between the years of 1948 and 1975 into the 220,000 capacity behemoth we see today. If one were to be cynical, one might attribute the building of what remains to this day the largest stadium in the world (dwarfing the similarly ridiculous Rungrado 1st of May Stadium in Pyongyang, North Korea) to the frantic desire of the newly-installed communist government to impress the rest of the world with it's willy-shrivelling massiveness. <br />
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The most alien aspect of the stadium to the Western European mind is the fact that it was built not to host sports of any kind. Instead Strahov was host to displays of mass synchronised gymnastics known as Sokol (or Spartakiad under Soviet rule) which played a massive part in the development of Czech nationalism and could apparently draw in huge crowds in those wild pre-television days. Another noteworthy use of the ground was an American Football match that was played on the 28th of September 1945 between two US army units that had helped liberate the country from the Nazis just months prior. This game was watched by 40,000 Praguers and ended with the 94th Infantry Division beating the XXII Corps 6-0, whatever that translates to in yank rugby.<br />
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The stadium has also played host to motor racing meets and large concerts in the more modern era but these days is totally dedicated to the training of Sparta Prague, one of the cities 'big two' clubs along with rivals Slavia Prague. This means that the absurdly huge turf has been split into 9 (nine) pitches of varying lengths, some of which I gather host youth and reserve fixtures from time to time. On the inside the pristine, modern training facilities look completely strange encased by the crumbling stands and terraces that tower over them in all directions and it's almost incomprehensible that they exist from the outside.<br />
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When you approach the ground from the outside it truly does look abandoned, despite it being obviously a very notable part of the cityscape. The rain-darkened brutalist lumps of stone that jut out into the surrounding streets are covered in graffiti in a lot of places and there are a lot of smashed windows, making it a favourite haunt for urban explorers. There are a few parts of the concourses that appear to have been recolonised by modern Prague, I saw a few gyms with Lycra-clad people going in and out. While I was leaving, a coachload of female athletes, possibly Sparta Women, arrived at the stadium to meet with waiting family members, which I took as my cue to leave.<br />
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A truly strange and unique mixture of forgotten relic from a long gone world and much-loved community asset, I would suggest taking a look at Strahov if you're in the area because who knows how long it'll be there. I also recommend checking out some of the awesome urban exploration reports online as I've really not done the place justice with my 20 minute wander.<br />
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partizan bristlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03516920489917799779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7159237974876457142.post-32708710411680655132017-09-04T14:21:00.002-07:002018-04-27T04:51:22.865-07:00#58 Valley Parade, Bradford City<b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Bradford City 3</b><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"> <b>Bristol Rovers</b></span><b style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;"> 1</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px;">Saturday 2nd September 2017, League One</span><br />
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Everyone loves a lower league game being broadcast live on Sky. The chance for the famously appreciative Premier League fans to while away the international break by enjoying a match between two of the FL72 sides they spend the rest of the year ripping the piss out of for being tinpot. The only slight downside being that away fans of the match in question suddenly find themselves having to arrive at whichever far-flung town two and a half hours earlier than expected. Thus we were forced to begin the three and a half hour drive to Bradford at the merry old hour of 6am, with the only crumb of humanity from our TV scheduling overlords being a free SkyBet Brand Breakfast Baguette™ for those travelling on supporters club busses. For John, Jack, Terry and I however there was only the long, unseasonably misty, road ahead with only some irresponsibly early cans to tide us over.</div>
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Rovers were on a decent run of form going into today's game with wins against Bury, Fleetwood and Fulham, not to mention a decent show from the youngsters in the Checkatrade who overcame Wycombe 5-1 at Adam's Park. Bradford were strong favourites for promotion this season having narrowly missed out after losing 1-0 to Millwall at Wembley last season. We arrived in the West Yorkshire city about an hour and a half prior to kick-off and parked up about five minutes from the ground. Having heard a lot of horrible things about Bradford in the past I was pleasantly surprised by the surroundings; rolling green valleys and old sandstone buildings surround the stadium which has been built into the hillside and overhangs the streets below in several places.</div>
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Going away with a football team is an excellent way to get to know one particular road and one particular dingy pub in all the great cities of the UK and today we would be getting to know the Bradford Arms. Decorated like the set of a 1960s kitchen sink drama and somewhat sparse on the beer selection front but run by a very friendly pair of ladies and full of Gasheads. Studying the teamsheet, it seemed Darrell Clarke had done the obvious thing and chosen Tom Broadbent and Johnny Burn to fill the Lockyer and Sweeney shaped holes in central defence rather than try anything unorthodox. Sercombe, Clarke and Lines were the three in midfield, Harrison, Bodin and Moore in an increasingly familiar attacking triangle and Slocombe in goal. Notable by his absence from the starting line up was Joe Partington, dropped to the bench after a very convincing performance against Fleetwood, which raised a few eyebrows around the room.</div>
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Entering the away stand you get a good idea of how elevated the ground is as you have to ascend a massive flight of ancient-looking stairs to the TJ Dallas Stand where we were to be housed today. It's a funny little stand which shrivels in terms of size compared to the rest of the ground despite being two tiered. Seating around 1,840 supporters half on the floor and half in the stand itself. It feels quite tight in some parts of the bottom section, so much so that I wonder if a particularly tall person might even whack their head on the ceiling if they celebrated a goal too hard. The much better views are afforded on the top tier where we were sat, with only six thin pillars spread over the whole stand to contend with.<br />
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What instantly hit me when looking out of the rest of the stadium was the colour scheme. It's pretty common for a stadium to have at least the seats the same colour as the club's traditional attire but Valley Parade's fondness for florescent yellow is really something else. Most of the supports, rafters and handrails are painted this colour, with the more restrained burgundy saved for the external supports, possibly to respect local light pollution laws. Fortunately half the seats inside are also burgundy so it's not too overpowering.<br />
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The home stands at Valley Parade much like the TJ Dallas Stand are strange customers. The main and cop stands are huge and two tiered, connected by a curve of seats in the west corner. These two stands look like they could've been carved from any modern all-seater bowl, save for two low sections of seating that jut out of the bottom of each corner which I shall henceforth refer to as the 'flaps'. Next to the leftmost flap (relative looking out from the away stand) you can clearly see parts of the original terracing from the <a href="https://thebeautifulhistory.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/1976-vpde.jpg" target="_blank">old wooden main stand</a> which was destroyed in the infamous 1985 stadium fire, claiming the lives of 56 Bradford fans in the process. The main stand only runs about three-quarters of the pitch, with the remaining space taken up by a small red brick building which contains the team's changing rooms. Weirdly, Valley Parade houses it's own <a href="http://www.thetelegraphandargus.co.uk/news/4638176.Dental_surgery_to_open_at_Valley_Parade/" target="_blank">dental surgery</a>.<br />
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The remaining stand, the Midland Road Stand, sits opposite the main stand and is the only single tier stand in the stadium. It's fairly unremarkable other than it's small size in comparison to it's brethren. All the stadiums seats are coloured in equally sized blocks of gold and burgundy which makes them look a bit like football scarves. All-in-all Valley Parade is quite a higgledy-piggledy stadium, understandably so considering the massive rebuild demanded by the fire but it's got a lot of charm and stands out from some of the more identikit league grounds. My favourite part by far is some of the views of the valleys you're afforded if you can glance through the gaps in the stands or out from the top of the big steps to the away stand.<br />
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The match that we'd travelled so far to see turned out to be a bad day at the office for Rovers. Not the worst I'd even seen them play away, that honour goes to <a href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/42-bescot-stadium-walsall.html" target="_blank">Walsall 2017</a> or <a href="http://partizanbristle.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/20-crown-ground-accrington-stanley.html" target="_blank">Accrington 2016</a> but without our regular central defensive pairing we struggled against a clinical Bradford side. The first goal came after just thirteen minutes when Leadbitter failed to prevent Romain Vincelot heading a corner down for a spuriously marked Charlie Wyke to tuck between Slocombe's flailing legs. As we anticipated, the stadium's massive half-bowled design lead to the home fan's celebrations being channelled into an almighty roar. The jubilant pricks. Byron Moore had the best chance of the half for Rovers, heading a ball that Ellis Harrison had just about managed to cross before it went out downwards towards goal but Doyle was able to make a good reaction save with his foot after returning to the centre of his goal in the nick of time.<br />
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Back out in the second half Rovers were undone by yet another corner in the 62nd minute, again a Charlie Wyke header which was so similar to the first I can't even be bothered to describe it. If I sound salty it's because I am. A mere eleven minutes later the young Smoggie upstart completed his hat-trick when Jake Reeves outwitted Sercombe and Leadbitter to stick in a cross right to the far post for Wyke to HEAD INTO THE NET ONCE AGAIN. A brilliant afternoon for Wyke but a toothless display from our defence. The travelling Gashead's respite only arrived nine minutes from full-time as Tom Nichols received the ball on the wing, turned and squeezed past two Bradford players and ran to the outside line of the box. His curved attempt hit the post but Bodin was there to tap in the rebound while Doyle was still on the floor.<br />
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To be fair Bradford had only had one defeat in 33 games at home so it was an understandable scoreline. It was just a shame to travel so far to witness such a timid performance from the team that had beaten Fulham away a mere week before but I suppose these are the risks we take. I try not to let the games I see colour my feelings towards a ground but considering the four hour trek home I don't think I'll be in a hurry to revisit Valley Parade, a decent one to tick off all the same.<br />
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