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| It's there! Over that hedge! |
Sunday is the new Saturday, as a chilled Satdy at home is followed by an early train out of town to watch a random game in the middle of nowhere (or Derbyshire, as it’s known). 08:50 on the Sabbath to Brum, then a change of train for Burton-on-Trent. With about 35 mins to kick off (midday, FFS!) and a mile and a half to the ground, I have my directions at hand and my marching boots on. Thankfully, I’m not let down: at the station, turn left, turn right, keep on walking, you can’t go wrong.
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| Well, given a choice...who wouldn't? |
Not that there’s any fans to follow (though a few Sarfend get off at the station, electing for taxis). I pass two pubs but there’s no time to drink – I have a ticket to pick up. The Pirelli Stadium sneaks up on you, looking like one of those new brick and glass structures you get on modern industrial estates. Still, tidy (as they say in Wales). There’s a kiosk open for ticket collection – predictably enough the only one with a queue. But for a relatively bargain 15 quid, I’m in. And well done Burton – no admin fee. How comes I can ring someone at Burton, they take my card details, they put the ticket in an envelope, they serve me…and there’s no admin fee…whereas if I buy a ticket on t’internet, there’s fees all over the place?
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| Mr |
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| ...and Mrs |
I don’t dare ask which stand my ticket’s in. But I turn a corner and there it says ‘home end’. This sounds like me. Straight in and I’ll have a programme, please – ‘cept there’s none to be had. I’m always surprised when teams sell out of programmes before kick off in a big match. Did no-one tell them it was likely to be a bigger crowd than usual? Twenty minutes into the game I am struck with hunger pangs and find they’ve ran out of faggots too. Whatthehell are faggots? Dunno, but I thought I’d try them. Maybe next time.
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| Get your programmes here (or not). |
The match? Nothing cagey early on, as the ball went back and forth and chances were spurned on either side. Then, just before half time, McGurk latched onto the loose ball to lift it over the keeper. Despite a torrential downpour 2nd half, and a Burton defender controversially being red carded, (his 1st yellow was never handball) there were no more goals. The Burton fans were happy, and so was I: I had to constantly hear Burton defender Holness referred to as 'Bob'. Can I have a 'P' please, Bob!
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| The teams come out |
On my return journey I called in at Cooper's Tavern, an amazing real ale pub down a back street which any away fan simply has to visit if they come to Burton. Beer straight from the barrels behind the counter. No Sky though, so I took my business to the Roebuck to watch Man City win the league (or Liverpool lose it, ho ho).
The Damage:
£15 ent
£34 train
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| You can't see it, but it really is lashing it down |
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