‘Where are you John?’
At last! Just over 38 years since my first professional football match (Barnsley v Millwall, 1980), I’ve finally completed the 92. And to celebrate, why not go in the exec box with Dave Wood, Oakwell historian supreme? Of course, when in Accrington, one must do as an Oakwell historian does…so a few of us pootled to the old ground, Peel Park, the scene of Barnsley FC’s greatest (ok, biggest) ever away win, 9-0 in 1934. There’s little to show of the old ground now, save for a bit of banking which may have terracing underneath, while the pitch is now a school playing field. However, the Peel Park Hotel next door is still there and a cracker of a pub it is too, a traditional old boozer full of old photos and friendly locals willing to point you in the direction of another great pic. While Dave and I headed to the ground, the others enjoyed a beer or 2 off the beaten track of the Barnsley hordes, 20 minutes walk away.
The Captain was supposed to have made it; the exec box ticket was his. But once again he failed to make the train (never his fault; this week was the turn of a late bus or somesuch). So I gave my terrace ticket to Anton, up from Brighton and quite fancying watching it from the away end rather than home terrace. With a record breaking crowd of 4,801, and a sellout away end of 2,500, how many other Reds fans were in the home end? I dunno, but half the exec area were away fans. So much so the MC asked us if we’d celebrate respectfully if we scored. (I did quite well the first time, but I failed miserably with the 2nd, in injury time and us down to 10 men.)
I hadn’t realised I was also amongst royalty; bigknob Peter Ridsdale was there and the Accy Managing Director had come over to talk to Dave about the bits and bobs he’d helped put in the programme re: Accrington and Barnsley Pals’ Battalions in World War 1. Jolly good show! Less of a good show was my starter: mushrooms in a creamy sauce. I passed mine on, but the 'mature' waitress was having none of it. Back she came with another one and insisted I take it ‘cos someone else can have it.’ She didn’t quite understand that I just didn’t want the aroma under my nostrils. Yes, Dave had a second.
The main course was a lump of meat (possibly beef) with a side of carrot and potato mash with, yes, too much butter. So I couldn’t eat all that either, and then, the piece de resistance, the dessert. Dave said he’d seen chocolate cake, and while I gazed lovingly into his eyes and hung on every word he said…I somehow cut straight into my dessert, had a mouthful, and nearly spat the thing out. (Actually I did, into a tissue). F***!!!!!! It appears cheesecake really does contain cheese. (I don’t think I’ve ever had it, being allergic to all things fromage. But I can honestly say it was the worst dessert I have ever eaten.) So, the food wasn’t a success, but let’s be generous and say it was down to personal taste. At least the beer was £2 a pint (happy hour!) and another lady brought it direct to your table.
Then it was onto the match. We took our allotted positions, in the 4th row, virtually on the halfway line. Great for views of Daniel Stendal. And if the Reds’ coach would sit down, I might be able to see the far goal too. I still managed to see the debutant keeper look better than anything we own by tipping 2 early shots over before we broke, Kiefer Moore backheeled and Cauley Woodrow ran through to finish confidently. As an aside, I realised later on he’s not really called Woodrow Wilson, as I’d been calling him all day. It’s an easy mistake to make, mixing up your early 20th century presidents with injury prone footballers. And for anyone wondering why the hell he’s signed for us, Dave sez his dad’s from Rotherham. He has a spreadsheet on such things (true).
We hadn’t played well, but we were one up. Sign of a good team. Sign of an even better team is to have a man sent off and never, ever look in danger despite over half an hour to play. Indeed, we looked dangerous on the break and often kept 3 men up even when THEY had the ball. Talk about confidence / not being ar5ed to track back. And we finally gained our reward when, in injury time, Potts broke forward, shot, and the keeper parried it up in the air for Moore to bundle home in front of the away end (there was also an away SIDE). If you squint carefully, you can see Nozzer et al right behind the net.
All in all, a professional performance, despite the numerous bookings and sending off for Fryers. Was that his 1st league game back? Shame as well, cos I thought he looked better than owt else we have at left back, but all the bookings were justified. If we insist on kicking players up in the air, referees will insist on booking them. The mild-mannered Mr Wood was mildly irritated though, complaining to a local about some challenge or other. ‘When yer come t’this side o’Pennines, you have t’grow a pair.’ Indeed.
Onwards and upwards! |
| Welcome to .... |
At last! Just over 38 years since my first professional football match (Barnsley v Millwall, 1980), I’ve finally completed the 92. And to celebrate, why not go in the exec box with Dave Wood, Oakwell historian supreme? Of course, when in Accrington, one must do as an Oakwell historian does…so a few of us pootled to the old ground, Peel Park, the scene of Barnsley FC’s greatest (ok, biggest) ever away win, 9-0 in 1934. There’s little to show of the old ground now, save for a bit of banking which may have terracing underneath, while the pitch is now a school playing field. However, the Peel Park Hotel next door is still there and a cracker of a pub it is too, a traditional old boozer full of old photos and friendly locals willing to point you in the direction of another great pic. While Dave and I headed to the ground, the others enjoyed a beer or 2 off the beaten track of the Barnsley hordes, 20 minutes walk away.
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| Once upon a time the scene of Accrington Stanley 0 Barnsley 9 (nine). |
The Captain was supposed to have made it; the exec box ticket was his. But once again he failed to make the train (never his fault; this week was the turn of a late bus or somesuch). So I gave my terrace ticket to Anton, up from Brighton and quite fancying watching it from the away end rather than home terrace. With a record breaking crowd of 4,801, and a sellout away end of 2,500, how many other Reds fans were in the home end? I dunno, but half the exec area were away fans. So much so the MC asked us if we’d celebrate respectfully if we scored. (I did quite well the first time, but I failed miserably with the 2nd, in injury time and us down to 10 men.)
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| Indeed! The bar in the exec at half time. |
I hadn’t realised I was also amongst royalty; bigknob Peter Ridsdale was there and the Accy Managing Director had come over to talk to Dave about the bits and bobs he’d helped put in the programme re: Accrington and Barnsley Pals’ Battalions in World War 1. Jolly good show! Less of a good show was my starter: mushrooms in a creamy sauce. I passed mine on, but the 'mature' waitress was having none of it. Back she came with another one and insisted I take it ‘cos someone else can have it.’ She didn’t quite understand that I just didn’t want the aroma under my nostrils. Yes, Dave had a second.
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| Tell me this looks appetising. |
The main course was a lump of meat (possibly beef) with a side of carrot and potato mash with, yes, too much butter. So I couldn’t eat all that either, and then, the piece de resistance, the dessert. Dave said he’d seen chocolate cake, and while I gazed lovingly into his eyes and hung on every word he said…I somehow cut straight into my dessert, had a mouthful, and nearly spat the thing out. (Actually I did, into a tissue). F***!!!!!! It appears cheesecake really does contain cheese. (I don’t think I’ve ever had it, being allergic to all things fromage. But I can honestly say it was the worst dessert I have ever eaten.) So, the food wasn’t a success, but let’s be generous and say it was down to personal taste. At least the beer was £2 a pint (happy hour!) and another lady brought it direct to your table.
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| Definitely NOT chocolate cake. |
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| Oi! Daniel! Move! |
We hadn’t played well, but we were one up. Sign of a good team. Sign of an even better team is to have a man sent off and never, ever look in danger despite over half an hour to play. Indeed, we looked dangerous on the break and often kept 3 men up even when THEY had the ball. Talk about confidence / not being ar5ed to track back. And we finally gained our reward when, in injury time, Potts broke forward, shot, and the keeper parried it up in the air for Moore to bundle home in front of the away end (there was also an away SIDE). If you squint carefully, you can see Nozzer et al right behind the net.
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| The teams come out in front of the away end. |
*** Moore. Apart from winning everything in the air, holding balls up, and scoring, what surprises me is how easily he outpaces many defenders. Did I mention he has skill too?
** Jordan Smith. Excellent debut in goal. Aside from the 2 he tipped over, his best save was reaching backwards to tip a cross around the backpost for a corner. He can even kick the ball properly. Imagine.
* Potts. Closer to his early season form, carrying the ball to the opposition and looking dangerous.
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| Cruising! |
Had a debate with Dave about the relative merits of Lindsay. He loves him. So the next time I saw him was to see him turned on the edge of our box and giving the foul away. Booked (for another challenge), but solid otherwise. Pinnock was composed, but Accy didn’t threaten too much. Cavare looked an improvement on late, while Mowatt was one of those being booked for lumping someone. It’s fair to say I noticed McGeehan’s hair more than his football, while Thiam was…dragged off. He’ll never be a footballer, etc. I like Woodrow Wilson though. Sacrificed for Pinillos after the sending off, he looks a strong lad and has composure.
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| AKA the home end. |
Oh, and the taxi driver stuck some money on us in an accumulator and walked away with over £450 from a £16 bet (his tips that morn). No, not on us WINNING, but on the number of BOOKINGS. Maybe Fryers was on a cut?
The highlights kept on coming though, as on our journey back, a drunk Scouser woke up to find that a) he’d missed Birmingham and b) the train never went via Birmingham anyway. Otherwise, we finally found out EFC stood for ‘Every f***ing c***’ and some people answer the phone to their missus with ‘Hi bitch!’ Each to their own. I can’t remember the rap he did, but who else did he promise us? David Bowie? I can’t remember. An entire carriage breathed a sigh of relief when I convinced him to get off at Watford Gap and switch trains. He’s probably still there.
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| Full time. Get in! |
And well done Accy, for putting a beer tent with band on outside the ground. They sure made Reds fans welcome today.
Away: 2,500
The Damage:
£44 train
£15 taxi
£35 ent (£20 discount)
£4 beer x 2 (happy hour)
£7.80 beer x 2 (non-happy hour)
free prog
free teamsheet
= £105.80
The Tunes:
Dirty (Sonic Youth)
Pretty Hate Machine (Nine Inch Nails)
Serial (Podcast)
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| Wham Stadium panorama |
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| The Main Stand, with beer tent. |
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| An interesting stadium addition. |
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| Longside Reds. |
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| That is one hell of a slope... |
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| A gobsmackingly amazing throw-in. |
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| The view from the exec. Cosy. |
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| Inside the exec (the teams have just come out for 2nd half). |
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| The far side. |
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| Home end. |
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| Full time, everyone out. |
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| Goodbye Stanley! |
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| A great end to a great day...Soul Train, Peckham, the early hours. |
