I’d never even heard of Longridge. Wasn’t that a car factory in Birmingham? Or was that Longbridge? I set the satnav and enjoy a pleasant journey in the Pennine rain to somewhere near Preston. Indeed, the organisers have made it easier by choosing a couple of games Preston way, followed by a couple in Blackpool, just down the road.
Longridge Town were formed relatively recently, in 1996. No wonder I’ve never heard of them. Developments are going faster than they can keep up, if the photo of their ground on their website is anything to go by – there’s now a small covered stand to the left of one goal that wasn’t there in the photo. And what with the rain, this is the most populated part of the ground today, as groundhoppers penguin up together. I take up a pew here second half, as I’m determined to experience the rest of The Recycling Lives Ground.
I queue up at the one entrance and admire the boxes of ready-made packs of programmes (in a plastic covering, of course) for those groundhoppers who’ve signed up to all 7 games. As warned, if I didn’t order in advance, there’s a good chance programmes will sell out. They have, and I’ve missed out. Oh well.
I enter virtually on the halfway line. There’s a small main stand to my left, in front of the clubhouse. In fact, all the buildings are to my left. The other side of the main stand is another small covering for standing spectators, set some way back from the touchline, while inbetween the left corner flag and the goal is a new cantilevered stand with 4 rows of metal terracing. I head right, where the ground lies completely open on 2 and a half sides. I’m not the only one who walks around, past the goal, only to find the far side (where the dugouts are) is out of bounds. A pity. But at least I can keep an eye on my car, parked in the distance.
The 1st half is a cracker. Lowly Longridge, just outside the relegation zone, are hosting predatory Padiham (it’s the best alliteration I could manage!), on the edge of the play-off zone. It’s end to end, 1-0, 1-2, 2-2...both teams putting on a show for the tourists. I only interrupt my own proceedings for some refreshment. I’m hungry, and what’s this? Pea and ham soup in the clubhouse? Yes please. It is so thick and filling, with some monstrous pieces of roast ham in there. Beautiful.
The second half, by contrast, is disappointing. I spend much of the second half eavesdropping on other groundhoppers’ conversations, and musing over the next game. I’m parked at the cricket club, half a mile away. Last here means I’ll problies be last away, which means I’ll be parked furthest away at Garstang…I see how these things work. With 10 mins left, Padiham score a blinder to win it, and I head towards the exit. I’m not leaving before full-time, but I’m well positioned for a quick getaway. As are 150 others. Do all groundhoppers think alike, I wonder?
The Damage:
£7 ent
£3 pea and ham soup
= £10
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