Clitheroe 3-3 Sporting Khalsa, Tuesday 28th October 2025

Clitheroe 3-3 Sporting Khalsa, Northern Premier League West, The Loom Loft Stadium (Shawbridge), att. 44

I’m on my lonesome tonite. Kev’s being treated on his birthday (surely an evening in Clitheroe would’ve been better) while Moll is feeling under the weather. Thus, I plump for a ground that neither might have chosen. Clitheroe. Somewhere up there in Lancashire. (I admit, I had to look it up). Drive up a road that bisects those loving neighbours Blackburn and Burnley and it’s there, after several signposts to Accrington. Indeed, Stanley are at home tonite. Is this why Clitheroe posted a season-low crowd of 442?

The satnav was on for this one and it found the ground right enough. The only problem was it was about 100 metres away and I was stuck in some new estate bedeviled with cul-de-sacs. I couldn’t even just park up and cut through a ginnel/snicket/alleyway, as there were none. Admitting defeat, I put the name of a street the other side of the ground into the satnav. Even getting out of the estate was a mission.

I found a car park. Why would Clitheroe need a car park? It was free after 6, and it was after 6. I was halfway to the ground when I thought I’d better check my wallet. A fiver. Here we go, back to the car for change, but luckily there was a cash machine at the Tesco over the road. (As it was, the turnstile took cards, as did the social club.)

Up a cobbled street, of course, towards the ground’s entrance. Once inside, programmes were available (woo hoo!) and then a little walk around to the halfway line as the teams were due out. Tonite’s visitors were Sporting Khalsa and this was their longest journey of the season, unsurprising really, since they’d come all the way from Walsall. This is their first season in the Northern Premier West, laterally moved from the Midland division, their more natural home, and probably where they’ll be back to if the right teams get promoted/relegated. Both sides began in the bottom half of the league.

The teams out, I popped to the social club behind the goal for a beer. Despite its size, and toilets, ambitious plans are afoot to knock it down and replace it with something which includes a ‘second floor viewing gallery’. Can’t wait! An adjacent covered outdoor area also had a small bar, as well as picnic tables. More picnic tables were to be found at the opposite end of the Topside terrace. Be nice when the sun’s out.

This terrace contains most of the ground’s capacity, a frugal 2,500. The 4 steps have cover most of the way along the touchline, save for a gap in the middle. One thing I did like was the odd beer barrel intermittently placed on the terrace, handy for putting your pint on. And my Bavarian Pilsner was so nice I was tempted to have a second, but I resisted the temptation. Driving. As for ‘Topside Terrace’, the pitch has one hell of a slope on it, from one side to the other. So much so that in the gents’ toilets a ‘UAV Mapping and Topographical Survey’ showed the heights above sea level of each corner. It ignored the hump in the pitch where each goal was. I’d wager the crossbar is lower in the middle of each goal.

The far end also had small cover over the central bit, as well as a couple of steps of terracing. A couple of stewards and the youth were the only occupiers, though the latter didn’t have a drum like everyone else and just kept themselves to themselves. Indeed, what chants there were came from a few middle aged blokes near the halfway line. Clitheroe ‘is full of tits, fanny and castle’. I didn’t know it had a castle. Must come back sometime.

Opposite sat the main stand, which occupied one half of the side of the pitch rather than be sat on the halfway line. 260 seats and high enough up that they probably had a decent view. Further along was a smaller social club, the 1877 Suite, or somesuch, named after the year Clitheroe first had a football team (but not this one). The programme had an excellent piece on both sides’ histories, and I was bemused to see them claim 1877 as Clitheroe FC’s founding date, when the programme then admits it was no such thing. Odd types, these Lancastrians. A small viewing gallery offered the best view of this, or any match. No wonder they want more of it in the new social club.

Finally, the Bar Side, behind the goal, where you enter via the turnstiles. Half a dozen seats in one corner, and a couple of steps of terracing. Cosy. A scoreboard in the corner completes the scene. A side in the 8th tier of English football with a better scoreboard than my beloved Barnsley. Good on ‘em. Cracking little stadium too.

The match was marvellous. Clitheroe were on top first half and went 2 goals ahead. Despite looking comfortable, they then conceded a goal just after the half hour, then an equaliser on the stroke of half-time as the keeper went wandering. Second half, much more even, Sporting scored a super 3rd, as the right back cut inside from the left to drill home from 25 yards before leggin it to the half dozen Khalsa fans on the Topside. However, with time running out, Clitheroe pressure paid off as their right winger whipped in a cross which eluded everyone and landed in the far corner. The least the home side deserved. A cracker.

The Damage
£11 ent
£2.50 prog
£5 ABK Bavarian Pilsner
=£18.50

BFC 3-1 Huddersfield Town, Saturday 30th August 2025

‘Can you smell that? A goal’s coming.’

After the morning I had, I was just grateful to be there, Satdy. Setting off from the delectable surroundings of Castleton in the Peak District, my car was making some awful clunky noises and making a juddering motion. I used all my knowledge of cars, as well as my investigative skills, to determine something tragic had gone wrong with the engine. I limped to a car park and called the AA. Within the hour I was back on the road. The diagnosis? A bolt in the tyre. Not a nail, not a screw, a bl**dy BOLT. Anyway, yeah, yeah, I know nowt about cars.

Something else I know nowt about is golf, but I must’ve listened to the blokes behind me banging on about it for half an hour during that 1st half. ‘And you’ll never guess how many times I’ve had a go at that par 3’. No, I wouldn’t. I’m trying to watch a game here, one we’re actually being vaguely entertaining in, and you’re rattling on about where to buy the best ‘golf grip’. JUST SHUT THE F*** UP. (One of the 2 normally sits in my row and usually doesn’t even offer a grunt when he wants to be past for his half-time beer long before half-time arrives.)

We went one up early, DKD snaffling the rebound after Ogbeta’s cross was fumbled by the keeper. I was relieved for him, he’d missed the same chance a couple of minutes earlier after the keeper fumbled a Connell shot. I’m not sure about this keeper. Then, minutes before half-time, said custodian legs it out of his goal to decapitate McGoldrick outside the box. Fair play McGoldrick, he sees it coming and lobs the ball goalwards despite knowing the keeper is incoming. I’m not sure it needs the 14 rolls though. (Hilariously, on the highlights, he’s still rolling as they cut to a replay.) With 10 mins to the interval, could we nick one before half-time?

Yes, we most certainly could. Connell (who’d only given the ball away twice to provide breaks to Hudds in our half) hits one from the edge of the box through a crowd of players. One kindly deflection and a despairing dive later, it’s two nil. Then I get greedy, could we nick a third? No, though we had the ball in their final third. It’s fair to say that I felt confident, but not supremely so. The champions of England had thrown away a two goal lead against 10 men at the Mags this week, so I’m sure we could do too.

Second half...who had 10 men? For 20 odd minutes we were all over the place and there were plenty of half chances for our Terrier friends. Then Coach Conor sent on the ‘finishers’ (Kelly and Faruggia) for Bland and McGoldrick and we were all over them. Kelly driving from midfield, slick one-touch moves in their third, we were slicing them to pieces. DKD scores a tap-in after one such move, but he’s marginally ahead of the cross, offside. Boooo. Then, just as in the 1st half, he makes up for it within minutes, pouncing on the rebound after Phillips’ blockbuster was saved. ‘He loves a tap-in’ said I. Slack. Yes, he does. But this is to do him a disservice. He’s PROACTIVE, always on the sniff for such chances. What a world away it was when we had Max Watters up front. He’d still be there, somewhere on the backpost, gawping.

This was the queue for the away end to empty. They’d held on at 2-0, as I’m telling you, we gave them hope. So it’s with almost a smile that half of them missed their late consolation as Ogbeta’s backpass was never reaching Cooper. How will Coops ever keep a clean sheet with this defence? It brought a smidgeon of disappointment at full-time, as this could’ve been a chance to score 4 or 5 without reply. Still, I’d have taken 3-1 at 3pm.

Onwards and upwards!

*** Watson. Intercepted passes, made tackles, passed the ball consistently to a Red, got up the pitch. Perfect.
** DKD. Scored 2, had a 3rd narrowly offside.
* Earl. Confident in possession, faultless in defence.

Official MOTM: DKD.

Londontykes’ MOTM: 1. DKD 2. Watson 3. Earl

Despatches:
Jonathan Bland. Everyone loves him. A world-beater in the making. (I’m surprised none of the Big 6 have been linked.) Even yesterday I saw the messages at HT about what an amazing game he had 1st half, centre mid. I just don’t see it. Or, others didn’t see the 3 times he lost the ball, plus the poor defensive header after McGoldrick’s initial poor defensive header put the ball in his own box. For me, it’s no coincidence we ran riot after Kelly came on. He’s simply more dynamic. He runs FORWARD with the ball, gives and goes, makes things happen. Bland is just...tidy. Let’s see how the season develops, but there you go, I’ve nailed my colours to the mast. I’m now hunkering down for the expected incoming...

McGoldrick. Good job we have a DKD, cos after a couple of games without a goal, McG will soon match Dire, about 1 in 3. I loved his miscontrol when put clean thru on Satdy (by Vickers?), Rammellesque, controlling a ball 20 yards to the keeper. That woud’ve made it 3 nil early 2nd half, and who knows how many we’d have racked up?

I thought we were generally solid, though Shepherd had irked one Reds fan on Praise or Grumble, asking whether ‘he’s trying to be Beckenbauer with all his Cruyff turns’. WTF? Unpick that one.

Vickers continues to be good value. Best loanee since...? The way he turns and spins on a sixpence with the ball, leaving 1, if not 2, defenders dead and then creating space, is a joy. OK, he’s not your typical winger, running down the wing and whipping a ball in, but he’s great. Love him. Watch him be bought in Jan by some Championship side, a la Danny Drinkwater back in the day. (Actually, is he the best loanee since Drinkwater? Maybe.)

Finally, it’s transfer deadline day today. If we’ve any intention of challenging for the play-offs (let’s not get carried away with top 2, we’ve barely got a defence) we absolutely need to keep hold of Phillips and DKD. Let’s see what the ambitions are of our owners. (And for top 2, a pair of decent centre halves, pls, and another centre forward.)

Drink du jour: Back on the Lightbulb at Spiral.

Away: 4,831 (15,783) ‘Barnsley’s a sh*thole, I wanna go home.’ I live near Huddersfield, so listen lads. Get back on your poxy rail replacement buses (cos your station’s closed for a month), back to your poxy town centre and go buy some vapes, cos there must be a gazillion purveyors of said product within that ring road of yours. ‘People in glass houses’ etc.

The Damage:
c.£20 petrol
= c.£20

plus a new tyre. £95.

BFC 2-1 Rotherham United, Tuesday 26th August 2025

‘No Budweiser? You can’t be telling me that!’

Who’s our coach these days? Neill Collins? Darrell Clarke? Keith Hill (cheers for that one, Farnham)? We were 1 nil down and for the last 20 minutes of the half we watched as the Super Reds passed it sideways, sideways, backwards, square, slightly forwards, sideways, sideways…ad infinitum. At one point we DEFINITELY mustered over 30 passes without losing possession, which, back in the 70s, was unheard of. However, this is the era of Pepball and Rovrum weren’t pressing, and we weren’t taking risks. Anyone would think WE were winning and were just running the clock down. Then we’d kick it forward and lose it. Oh, THAT’S why we’re kicking it safely square. Still, it never ended up back at the keeper. (I continue to be all about the positives.)

It was an awful half of football from us. We shoulda been 2 down before they scored. Cooper made 2 one-on-one saves, while Barrett (one of this week’s centre half partnership – who did YOU get in the sweep?) cleared one off the line while his mate Shepherd blocked another certain goal on the 6 yard line. We were struggling. 7 changes probably didn’t help; only Coops, Shepherd, Vickers and DKD surviving the cull. Thankfully, cometh the half-time, cometh the men: Phillips and Ogbeta sent on to relieve a poor Yoganathan and Cleary. Dynamic management indeed.

Sadly, this is where I must interrupt the report. Towards the end of half-time I snuck off to the toilet when some small child dropped a SCALDING drink on my foot. Honestly, time stood still, as it was a full second later before the pain exploded. ‘YOU LITTLE FUCKING PR*CK’ I screamed before departing for the bog, before me and his mam got into a row. For those who saw that occasion I lost my temper on the train to Walsall when coffee was spilt on me, you’ll have realised my Kryptonite. I have since ALMOST calmed down. I’ve dropped a drink or 2 in my time, and chances are the kid dropped it cos it was TOO F***ING HOT.

Anyway, once I’d relieved myself, I took off my shoe and sock. Should I stand in the Ponty End toilets and run my foot under the tap, or would that look a bit weird? The pain had subsided somewhat, so I elected to man up and get back out there. The Super Reds needed me. I lasted 10 minutes, none of which I can remember for the match. Hanging with former nurse and St. Johns ambulanceman Wadd, he advised I go to 1st aid. My foot was killing me. To cut a boring story short, I limped to the 1st aid post (halfway, under the East Stand) where I was looked after for 20 minutes. Allegedly, we scored 2.

I came back out to a hero’s welcome no response whatsoever, though I did get a text from Nozzer asking how I was, cos he’d seen me limping along the front of the East Stand. And then I watched the last 10 minutes where their keeper was in our box a lot more than our centre forward was in theirs (true).

Onwards and upwards!

*** Cooper. 2 crucial early saves kept us in it.
** Barrett. Cleared off the line.
* Shepherd. Great block.

Official MOTM: No idea. Anybody? (It was Vickers.)

Londontykes’ MOTM: 1= Cooper / Phillips 3. Vickers

Despatches:
Guess what is possibly the greatest cause of injury at Oakwell (beyond Barnsley FC boring fans to death)? Yes, that’s right. Hot drinks. On my return into the Ponty from the toilets, a steward nearly caused me to explode again, as she warned me to be careful ‘cos someone’s spilt a drink’, pointing at the liquid spread across the concrete. In no uncertain terms I explained to her that I KNEW a drink had been spilt there because…etc. More profanities may have gone her way too. I apologise.

Oh, we did create a chance. A chip forward gave Russell a free header. Sadly, it was at the far end, and for reasons I’ve yet to fathom, the Waddingtons and Molls of this world prefer to sit in the Ponty, low enough that you’ve got little idea what goes on in the other box. I’m told it was an awful miss by those cunning enough to stay at home. I thought it was curling a bit left, and Russell was coming in from the right, so to direct it on target would have defied the laws of physics. But, as I said, it was a crap view.

Drink du jour: Leffe at Bramahs, with the Galvins. Thousands of ‘em! (Hi Josie!)

Away: 871 (5,803)

The Damage:
£16 ent
c.£8 petrol
= c.£24