Abandoned: Brandon Stadium, Coventry Bees

Sunday 28th May 2017

The wife and I were down in Coventry for the bank holiday weekend visiting her dad in hospital. I say we but in actuality I was given the task of dropping off and fetching so we wouldn't have to pay for hospital parking. Having a good three hours to kill, I decided to see if I could indulge my strange curiosity for abandoned stadiums by checking out Coventry Stadium (or Brandon Stadium), home of Speedway team Coventry Bees. I don't know much about Speedway but from what I can gather it's a type of motorcycle racing held on a dirt track with bikes that have no breaks or suspension, with an emphasis on a rider's ability to drift or 'broadside' around corners. Coventry Bees raced in the Elite League, which was the top division of the sport until the league was restructured last year. The Bees face an uncertain future after 88 years of existence as their licence was frozen in February due to them being unable to guarantee the fulfilment of their fixtures at Brandon Stadium or the use of Leicester Lions' Beaumont Park stadium for the duration of the season.

Speedway is something I've heard some older Rovers fans discuss from time to time as Bristol Bulldogs spent a season racing at Eastville Stadium in 1977. In true bloody-minded Bristolian spirit the speedway track was placed on top of the already-existing greyhound circuit and then dug up again every meeting for the entire season. The sport seems to have been a staple in the 70s and 80s for people looking for a summer sports fix after the football season ended. Bristol Bulldogs are no more and the fate of Coventry Bees does lead me to worry for the health of the sport somewhat. Brandon Stadium isn't in the best of states as you can see from these pictures but I can imagine it being an absolutely cracking place to be during a busy meeting, with it's massive curved terraces and grandiose main stand. Sadly this looks to be another great sporting venue that will soon be lost to the ages.

Redux: Wembley Stadium

Cleethorpes Town 0 South Shields 4 
FA Vase Final

Macclesfield Town 2 York City 3
FA Trophy Final
Sunday 21st May 2017

Much like the slovenly bachelor must accept that his Jack-o'-lantern is past it's prime come mid-November when it's been reduced to a brown, pungent lump in his front garden, so too must we acknowledge the end of the 2016/17 season. There was however one last event for me before I draw the line under another successful year for Partizan Bristle, where I visited 24 new grounds in strange and exotic lands such as the Balearic Islands, County Louth and Burslem. Tony Incenzo Day Non-League Finals Day is an opportunity for the savvy football fan to punctuate their season with a trip to the national stadium to take in two cup finals for the price of one: the FA Trophy and the FA Vase.

I was keen to make the trip in order to actually cover Wembley Stadium, as opposed to 2015 when I was too emotionally exhausted to do anything other than stick the pictures up. Also in the equation was the small matter of my old groundhopping pal Daz's beloved Macclesfield Town being in the final of the Trophy, seeking the third win that would make them joint-most successful team in the 48 year old competition. Hoping to stop that from happening were York City, who were aiming to do what Halifax Town did the year previous and lift the trophy in the same season they are relegated from the Conference National. Before that though there is the small matter of the FA Vase final being contested by South Shields and Cleethorpes Town who were champions of their respective level 9 leagues this season.

The day began at 6:20 when my good lady wife Becky was kind enough to drive me into town to catch the Megabus to London Victoria. The early start didn't deter our driver Jerry from unleashing the summer camp style banter as he did the safety announcements:

Jerry: "Good morning folks"

Me and one other person, sleepily: "Mornin'..."

Jerry: *pretends to fall asleep for a few seconds* "I SAID GOOD MORNING!"

Me: *polite laughter* "Good morning!" *screams internally*

Jerry: "Welcome to this Megabus service to London Victoria stopping at UWE, Carlisle, Edinburgh, Oslo, Greenland..."

Me: *eyes emergency exit longingly*  

One hilarious coach journey later I grabbed the tube and met Holly at Finchley Road, taking the opportunity to crack open my spiced rum and coke while I waited. Go hard or go home. As Holly and I walked up Wembley Way it became clear that South Shields were going to win the all important who can bring the most bodies to Wembley contest. The place was positively lousy with claret and blue clad Geordies hanging flags, blowing horns and generally having a lovely time. In total around 13,000 South Shields fans made the 5 hour tip to London, representing a staggering 17% of the town's population. In many ways this is staggering and commendable for a club at this level but it should be noted that Shields have just had an absolute dream season, winning the Northern League Division One title, the Durham Challenge Cup and the Northern League Cup, so this was their shot at a rare quadruple. They seem to be a club going from strength-to-strength at the moment and have a range of league talent (including the Romanian and American leagues, bizarrely) on their books, most notably former Sunderland and Middlesbrough man Julio Arca.

That's not to diminish the efforts of Cleethorpes Town who have pulled a blinder getting to the final in what is only their 19th year of existence, the bulk of that time as a soccer school by former Grimsby Town midfielder Tommy Watson. The Owls are going for a mere triple (the amateurs) in the Vase to go with their brand new Lincolnshire County Senior Trophy and Northern Counties East League title. They overcame some big players to reach the final including well-supported Greater Manchester side Atherton Collieries and Bromsgrove Sporting, who knocked out Partizan Bristle favourites Bristol Manor Farm. Weirdly, Cleethorpes Town play just down the road in Grimsby whereas Grimsby Town's Blundell Park, their home since 1899, is in Cleethorpes.

Before the games began I had predicted wins for South Shields and York City (which I didn't tell Daz) on the day but I put a small bet on Cleethorpes just to get me invested. Unfortunately for me South Shields entered half-time in the lead, only 1-0 up as a result of a penalty but they certainly looked in control throughout. They would have to wait for the 80th minute to score a second, a free kick curled towards the post which was headbutted powerfully down towards goal by Dillon Morse and the keeper couldn't get down quick enough. It was testament to Cleethorpes' dogged determination to stay in the game that Shields weren't able to score from open play until the 85th minute when David Foley was played into a one on one with the goal keeper via a Michael Richardson through-ball. Foley struck again from just outside to notch himself a brace in the 88th minute but by this time Cleethorpes looked pretty deflated and were no doubt just hoping for the final whistle. 

The first final ended and we suddenly had over an hour to kill inside the bowels of Wembley Stadium. This is how they get you. Every drink is the wrong side of £4 and the whole place has been done up like a mini shopping mall with food stalls, sweet shops and pop-up emporiums of assorted Wembley branded tat primed and ready to extract the last dime from the trapped masses. On the other hand they also had table football, so we held our noses, brought a round of mortgage pints and spent most of the time failing one-by-one to beat Daz who is unnaturally good at the game. I decided to take this opportunity to start my long-contemplated quest to get a selfie with a shirt-wearing fan of all 92 league clubs. I just love having shit to tick off.

Back out in the stands and it became apparent that the majority of Cleethorpes and South Shield fans had opted to start on the long road back home rather than stay to watch the second match. This lead me to question why the event was at Wembley at all, considering the contests had been all northern and midland teams since mid-March. As previously mentioned, I was fully expecting pressure-free York City to spoil the Silkmen's big day but I didn't let on to Daz who'd been looking forward to seeing the Macc lads on the big stage for months. Having vicariously gained a bit of affection for Macclesfield myself I had decided to get help the war effort by bringing my blue and white scarf and a couple of blue balloons I'd found at work and getting very drunk so I could get all the chants loudly wrong.

Macc got off to a bad start within the first 2 minutes when York's Cheltenham-loanee forward Amari Morgan-Smith went down in the box after having his arm pulled but the referee waved the calls for a penalty away. Despite this setback it was the Minstermen that netted the first goal through dogged man-fridge Jon Parkin, who neatly headed in a beautiful cross from Danny Holmes in the 8th minute. Daz was so sure the former Macc player would net that he stuck £2 on it during the break. Didn't do much to cheer him up though. Luckily Macclesfield were soon back in it through Rhys Browne who wriggled onto the end of a misplaced defensive header from Vadaine Oliver who was trying to clear a free-kick from the wing. The Antigua and Barbuda international showed great poise to knock the ball forward for himself with his first touch, beating the panicked defenders in the box with him and sticking it through the keepers legs. Shortly after this Macc were denied what looked to be a stonewall penalty when Chris Holroyd took a mighty barge from Chippenham Polak Yan Klukowski in the box.

Oliver was able to make up for his fluffed defensive header on 22 minutes as Parkin held up the ball and passed to Holmes who put in a through-ball to Sean Newton who caught up with it on the edge of the box and crossed it to Oliver by the far post to slide in for York's second. A nice team goal that stretched the Macc defence. That wasn't it for the half though and Norburn replied for the Silkmen in spectacular fashion in added time with a thunderous strike into the top-centre of goal from 30 yards. I'd been impressed by Norburn on the day and how much he'd come on since leaving the Gas three years ago. The second half was a very tight affair with plenty of chances for both sides. Most notable of these was a Kingsley James volley from close range which was cleared off the line by Hamza Bencherif. Cheshire hearts would be broken in the 86th minute when a shot from Parkin bounced up and over Scott Flinders in the Macclesfield net as a defender slid in to try and stop it. As the shot bounced lethargically towards goal, Aidan Connolly pounced to add the probably unnecessary final touch centimetres from the line. 

So York City leave London with the FA Trophy on this occasion, much needed salve to the burn of relegation. Despite our disappointment it was still a treat to watch two games at Wembley with some good pals in the glorious sunshine. Not a bad way to end the season. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my readers for your kind words and encouragement over the last season. I hope to do the usual and get to the odd WSL fixture over the summer but expect the blog to be quiet until July when we start the whole sordid affair over again at Weston-Super-Mare with the mighty Gas. Have a good summer kids.

#51 Days Park, Swanage Town & Herston

Swanage Town & Herston Reserves 1 Canford United 1
Saturday 6th May 2017, Dorset Football League Division One

As the summer drew ever closer and the English football season was entering it's final few weeks, the family and I were down in Dorset for my birthday weekend and I was looking to cross a particular ground off my list. As my Dad is a Bournemouth native we visit Dorset fairly regularly and last year to escape high street browsing based boredom, I slipped off to check out the ground of local leading lights of the Dorset Premier League; Swanage Town and Herston. Unfortunately it was close season so there was no football to be had but I was especially enamoured by the empty ground and have wanted to see a game there ever since.

This time around though we were in town for the reserves' penultimate game at Days Park against fellow Dorset team Canford United, which utilising his immense local knowledge Dad described as "a posh village by the cliffs". I can't find any information about the team online so that will have to do for today. Canford start the afternoon in 6th while Swans ressies are 10th. We parked up at Days Park and went into the impressive clubhouse for a cider. One thing I noticed was the various bits of #COYS insignia dotted around the place, which tells me Swanage either don't know how hashtags work or they're all really big Tottenham fans.

Days Park is a slightly ramshackle but utterly charming little ground situated on the edge of town next to Days Park playing fields, from which it takes it's name. As you enter the ground through the single turnstile, you're presented with a concrete path that runs behind the goal. I'm pretty sure this piece of hard-standing is a recent addition as I don't remember it being there when I was trespassing last year. My application for world's most boring man is in the post. This path leads up a small set of stairs which takes you up a grass bank where the ground's main stand sits.

The main stand is sandwiched between the three stone sheds that make up the dressing rooms for the opposing players and the referee and another which serves as a tea hatch. The stand itself is made up of a metal roof supported by nine thin iron poles and is elevated slightly as well as being on top of a hill, ensuring an excellent view of the action. A set of concrete steps lead up to the wooden stand which has what looks to all the world like a job lot of plastic school chairs with the legs kicked off screwed onto it. Apart from the middle section that is, which has a handful of incredibly retro looking wooden chairs painted black and white and marked 'directors only'. I say retro because I can't imagine there would be a director at this level that would take themselves so seriously that they would insist on sitting here, swatting away the Bovril-stained peasants who attempted to encroach on this sacred zone.

Back down the hill behind the far goal there is a path made up paving slabs down behind the goal and another small grassy knoll which hosts a couple of benches dedicated to fallen stalwarts of the club, which is a lovely touch. Last but not least on the list is a vast and surprising terrace, seven steps high and spanning half the pitch. It's hard to imagine any point in Swanage's history where this crumbling, weed-infested beauty would have been teaming with supporters, as the highest the club have ever played is the Western Premier from 1987 to 1989 but nevertheless it carries with its mere presence a sense of an enthralling yesteryear where the Swanage old boys would tear chunks out of the likes of other feared and respected Dorset League firms such as the Hamworthy Recreation Rollickers or the Corfe Castle Crushers every other Saturday. Right now though it was deserted and due to the less than stellar structural integrity of the thing, a misjudged lean could send you tumbling into the undergrowth behind where you might at long last unearth the mysteriously lost body of Grizzly Gaz the Parley Sports Punisher (sorry I'll stop this now).

The rest of that side of the ground is dominated by the back of the massive barn-like clubhouse building. Amusingly, when the home players come onto the pitch they have to descend a massive stone staircase from the upstairs changing rooms which seems a bit showy but you've gotta keep them muddy boots out of the bar somehow. Overall the ground left me absolutely besotted. It's bursting with classic features and is well-loved and rustic without being off-puttingly tatty.

In the opening exchanges Canford United look very much the more threatening side and are always troubling the Swanage box. On about 15 minutes they smashed the crossbar from a distance but the deflected ball bounces dangerously inside the goalmouth but the keeper was eventually able to nervously gather it up before any damage was done. A mere two minutes later, another certain goal-scoring opportunity for Canford is denied by a Swansea defender who put in a sliding clearance near the goal line to save his keeper's blushes.

At around this time Dad and I are alerted to one of Days Park's occupational hazards, namely losing a wayward ball in a massive pile of stingers. This happened during the first half and after the responsible player approached the mighty pile of pain-dealing foliage he stopped, looked nervously at the officials and was eventually told not to worry about it and a spare ball was chucked onto the pitch. Now a lot is said these days about the unsung heroes who keep non-league running but I'd like to give a particular doff of the cap to the unused Swanage substitute who was made to go and gather the ball as the game went on around him because his primadonna mate couldn't be arsed to find a dock leaf.

My hero, my mate.

On about the 28th minute there's a dubious tackle against a Canford player who clearly thought he was fouled, causing the home side to momentarily switch off. This lapse in concentration allows a Canford man to wriggle free and lob the keeper from afar, finally notching his side the 1-0 advantage they deserved from the half.

Half-time arrived but a second pint was out of the question as the barman from earlier was now running the line (doff). Instead we headed for the tea hut, receiving the rare ultra-low league treat of being given a mug rather than a paper cup. Scenes. The clouds which had been threatening the match towards the end of the first half finally began to shower us with summer rain, so it was time to find a seat in the main stand without too many holes above it. During the break I passed the time watching a dog that had been tied to the railings outside the tea hut gaze indignantly at it's owner as the rain came down. Eventually the owner took pity and tied him back up under shelter but within five minutes the moist mongrel had wandered back out into the rain in order to chew diligently on a hard clump of mud.

Straight out the blocks we can see a difference from Swanage in the second half. In particular the young number 9 for the home side looks bright up front. He was caught offside four times during the first half (although with the barman and a Canford player running the lines who knows how accurate that was) but made up for it in the second with a well made solo goal to draw Swanage level just 4 minutes into the second. Receiving the ball on the wing he cuts in and flutters past 3 defenders to slot a daisy-cutter across goal and into the bottom corner. I mean daisy-cutter as well, the playing surface being chock-full of the things, maybe the groundsman was on the beach. A well deserved goal for the lad after a frustrating opening half.

With around 5 minutes left, Canford seize the impetus to finish the season on a win when the Swanage keeper comes forward to deal with a loose ball but only manages to tap it into the path of a marauding opposition forward, who now has only him to beat. The forward chases the keeper back to his goal, runs across the mouth looking for his opening and looks certain to score but somehow the keeper makes up for his mistake and is able to paw it out for a corner, winning his side a point in the process.

Canford could be forgiven for being disappointed not to have capitalised on their strong first-half performance and failing to see-off that final chance but Swanage deserved the point for their two moments of brilliance and some tenacious defending. They did a lot better than the first team, who were defeated 2-0 by Gillingham Town Reserves in the Dorset Premier League Cup final which was being played at the same time. This big away game probably explains why there were only about 12 people here today and I would love to come back and see the first team in action some day.