Marine 0-2 Spennymoor Town, Saturday 6th December 2025

Marine 0-2 Spennymoor Town, National League North, The Marine Travel Arena, att. 1,126

What a stadium this is! I’ve seen nothing like it. Hemmed in (literally!) on all 4 sides, there’s no space to swing a cat in this place. Indeed, space is so tight, spectators aren’t even allowed down one side. There’s dugouts, then a wall that backs onto people’s gardens.

It’s not much better opposite, as there’s one step of terracing, then the wall backing onto gardens. Still, at least there’s a roof all down this touchline, and with a crowd of just over 1,100, the ground is nearly half full yet isn’t empty anywhere. I love this place!

The bulk of the capacity lies at either end, as tall structures lie behind paddocks. Just like the good old days. And there’s some kind of unofficial segregation going on too, as visitors Spenny dominate the far end, while the Mariners ensconce themselves at this end, where you enter the ground.

Mind, Kev’s done some spadework at the turnstiles. A sign says it’s £18 in. Kev swears it’s £16.50 online and duly does the business, spending 10 minutes to save three quid for the pair of us. What amazes me is how nobody else is doing it. And when we get to the turnstile, the operator takes one look at our QR code and asks if we’ve just bought them. How can he tell!?

Just as good, there’s a swanky social club on the corner, ‘1894 Bistro and Bar’, which is accessible from both inside, and outside, the ground. Thankfully, the kiosk behind the goal hasn’t got its crap lager taps going yet and we’re stuck behind a gate as the teams come out. As the gate re-opens and we’re allowed towards the corner flag, I spy a number of fans turning the corner to avoid the footie action. I know what these lads are up to, I think, and follow.

Sure enough, we’re in the ‘1894’ and wonder of wonders, they’ve got Erdinger in tap. The Klopp effect? Less wondrous, a small noise is identified as a visitors’ goal (it was, 0-1). I blame Kev for the 10 minute hold-up, but he’s even more annoyed. He hates Spenny. Then thee barman starts whooping. The big screen reports on Everton going ahead. Nobody else remarks.

Back out in the real world, we walk the touchline, trying to dodge fans and not spill our pints. After toying with a young steward that I’d dare climb the camera gantry for a better view (or, indeed, A view), we find daylight in line with the far penalty area. Hereon there be dragons, or Spennymoor fans. ‘Pride of County Durham’ (their words). ‘Spendymore’ (Kev’s). Bankrolled to their artificially high position, never let it not be said that they’re a lower league MK Dons, buying a club (Evenwood) and supplanting their position in the (Northern) League. Plus they play in black and white stripes (though not today).

Another bonus of the Marine Travel Arena is that you can balance your beer on the perimeter fence. And we do – till one of them pesky players nearly boots a ball at us. (He’s been hearing what Kev has to say about them.) These are two teams on the edge of the play-offs, but there’s only one team in it. Spenny nail a second with a goal from a narrow angle at the home end. Could the keeper have done better? Well, he couldn’t have done worse.

And that’s it for the scoring, though Ramshaw spurns the chance of a hattrick in the second half by not connecting properly. An easier chance than the one he scored. The second one he scored. I couldn’t comment on the first one.

By now we’re in the upper tier, behind the goal, with the Spenny fans. Kev has treated me to the milkiest of teas, and after spending a minute considering whether to complain, or be British, I elect for the former. I’d have hated myself otherwise. It wouldn’t be so bad, I only rea lly wanted it to warm my hands, and it couldn’t even do that. I return to the refreshment shed to see the shutter being closed, but I WILL HAVE MY WAY and politely (honest!) explain that this tea is undrinkable and I’d like a new one. She gives me a new one, with much less milk, yet still too much milk. These northerners, eh? (Me, not her.) I like my tea to taste of...tea. Strong, not much milk.

Pre-match, we are treated to a minute’s round of applause for the remarkable Roly Howard, former Marine manager, who died this week. He was the longest serving manager in English football (1972-2005) with 1,975 games under his belt. You’d think he’d have seen out another 25, but I suspect there was a very good reason for not doing so. R.I.P. Rory.

Oh, and we went to the seaside to see the Gormleys on Crosby Beach. Marvellous!

The Damage:
£16.50 ent
£2.50 programme
£5.30 Erdinger
= £24.30

Curzon Ashton 0-3 Spennymoor Town, Tuesday 8th April 2025

Curzon Ashton 0-3 Spennymoor Town, National League North, Tameside Stadium, att. 328

As the end of the season draws closer, pickings are slimmer. With winter not being as harsh as last year, most sides are on schedule with their fixtures, meaning fewer outstanding midweek games. I was on the verge of traversing the M62 to see Cleethorpes Town (champions-elect of the Northern Premier East, 8th tier) but then I get the message from Darlo Kev: he’s off to see his local side Curzon Ashton take on ‘Pride of County Durham’ (their words, not mine) Spennymoor Town. I’m in.

Kev hates the ‘Pride of County Durham’ tag, so I use it as often as possible on him. It’s annoying when some upstart starts outshining you, as Spenny have done recently with Darlington. Last Satdy they turned over Rochdale away in the FA Trophy semi final and are facing their first Wembley trip in non-league’s most senior cup competition. Was it 3, or even 4 messages of congratulations from Curzon in their programme tonite? If it’s an effort to soften them up, it doesn’t work.

I pick Kev up and drive the 3 miles or so to the Tameside Stadium, via Stalybridge. Ashton-under-Lyne is vast. It is my annual bewilderment how Curzon, based on tiny crowds (tonite: 328), have such a level of stadium and can fund a play-off push in the National League North. Do they pick up a cut of the associated sports facilities? There’s a popular cycle track adjacent to the ground and I admire the peloton, 1st half, as it makes one of its circuits. Mind, the Pennines is JUST THERE. It’s a hell of a lot easier cycling round a flat track.

There’s also been a development at the Tameside since I was last here. A scaffold roof has been put up at the near end, behind the goal. I’m not sure what the necessity is, given there’s cover for 1000 or so on the long side opposite the Main Stand, which in itself seats over 500. Kev eyes the surrounds with more than a touch of jealousy, as Darlo are still forced to share a rugby ground.

It’s a scandalous 17 (seventeen) pounds to get in. 17 quid? I could have gone to Huddersfield v Wycombe at the top end of League 1 tonite for 18. No wonder there’s only 328 here, in itself one of their lowest crowds of the season. I don’t suppose it helps that it’s the Champs League quarter final, Arsenal v Real Madrid. And it’s cold. I thought summer was coming? I get a programme (£3) and marvel again at its glossiness and content. Full marks to the programme editor.

We nip into the portacabin that doubles as the social club. It’s Kev’s round, after he’s taken me for a beer at the fabulous pub at Stalybridge station and he compliments the quality of the Guinness, despite it being from a can. Seems their fancy can opener does the magic. Then we are out onto the not-so-packed terraces. I want to go to the far end, which I’ve never been to, but it seems you can’t do that via the Main Stand, so we have to walk all the way round. We are joined by 4 others for an unremarkable opening half, peloton aside.

Second half, after draining the main veins (what film was that line in? ‘I’m off to drain the main vein.’ Robocop?) Anyway, the Main Stand looks tempting now we’re cold, and it does offer a nice view. We settle in, Kev all-in for Curzon and me kind of hoping Spenny keep up their own play-off push, keep it interesting. Junior Mondial (ex Darlo, useless) cheekily flicks in a low cross. Kev’s mood does not improve, and we find in the cheer that there’s more Spenny in the ground than we’d anticipated, maybe as many as 20. Maybe.

Then Spenny send on Glen Taylor, a centre forward who has played below his level for so many years he now has over 200 Spenny goals to his name. Game over. He scores one, creates continual havoc and Spenny score a 3rd before game’s end. Odds are neither will make the play-offs (Spenny have leaders Scunny away next) but odds are also that I’ll be back next season, to marvel at how Curzon have such a good stadium, how they’re in a play-off race and can produce such a glossy programme, all on tiny crowds. ‘It’s like de ja vous all over again’ as Shaka Hislop once said.

The Damage:
£17 ent
£3 prog
£11 2 pints of Guinness and Staropramen (I think)
= £31