Brandon United P-P Blyth Town, Saturday 27th November 2021

Brandon United P-P Blyth Town, Northern League Division 2, ‘The Sawmills Kitchen The Welfare Ground’ (sic)

What are the odds? The game I was originally going to go to in the Northern League (Carlisle City v Bedlington Terriers) was the only one actually played, while all other fifteen matches were postponed. However, I’d not gone to Carlisle. With Storm Arwen wreaking havoc in the north-east, there was no way I was risking a trip over the North Pennine tops to Carlisle – I might not get back. But with games off all over the place, it looked like Brandon had survived. OK, I was using up one of my closer trips in my effort to see all 41* Northern League venues this season (38 different ones, including shared venues), but still.

*It’s taken me till now to realise there’s 41 sides; I looked at a list of 40 teams, noticed newcomers Boldon CA weren’t on there and spent an age wondering which side was on there who shouldn’t be.

So I pootled to Brandon, 18 minutes away, having religiously checked their Twitter feed to ensure the game was on. And it was – till I turned left into the lane the ground is on. 3 people were walking the other way. No-one ever walks this way. I turned into the car park and 2 more fellas were ambling toward me. ‘Match off?’ ‘Yup. But the pitch is fine.’ A snow blizzard had begun. I nipped into the ground to see one of the teams walking across the pitch with their kit bags slung over their shoulders. Oh well, I can bring forward the supermarket shop…

I was driving to Bishop Auckland, cheap petrol (no idea why petrol is cheaper in Bishop, but it is) and I found myself driving through Willington. ‘Ah! Durham City!’ Groundsharing, the hapless Durham City were at home to Chester-le-Street. I don’t remember that being called off. It was. Floodlights off, turnstiles shut, I travelled on for the hattrick. Yes, in my mini-tour of Northern League football grounds, I filled up the car at Sainsburys – next to Bishop Auckland’s Heritage Ground. Postponed (but at least I knew that already). As was nearby National League North side Spennymoor – postponed apparently cos Chorley’s coach company ‘couldn’t guarantee their safety’!

Carlisle City? 65 people braved whatever weather there was there to see a one goal away win. Next time.

The Damage:
Mild irritation.

The Tunes:
BBC5live

BFC 0-2 Swansea City, Wednesday 24th November 2021

‘What do you think the new coach needs to improve?’ ‘….the defence….the midfield….and the forward line. In fact, pretty much the whole team.’ (Derrick Parker, pre-match, on Radio Sheffield)

Readers will have to forgive the hyperbole, but last night was possibly the WORST MATCH I HAVE EVER SEEN. I know, I know. I’ve seen the ‘Super’ Reds lose by way more than 2. I’ve seen us lose to way worse opposition than Swansea City, but last night’s match was just THE PITS. For 90 minutes (plus injury time) the Swans knocked the ball about defence, with no apparent wish to ever score a goal, while Reds players jogged around rigidly sticking to a 4-3-3 shape and getting nowhere near the ball. I read a stat that said Swansea enjoyed 81% possession 1st half. 81%! At home! (Quietly, I gave myself a pat on the back. I’d estimated 80.)

But it was dull dull dull. When they scored their second, I sent a message to our WhatsApp group…’Exit time. 0-2.’ I immediately got a call from Moll. (It was, as you imagine, quiet enough at Oakwell to have a conversation.) I presumed he was at the game and thought he’d meant I was exiting. I expected the offer of a pint in town, to drown our sorrows. No, he was at home. ‘How’s it going?’ Well, I told him how it was going. Swansea had the ball and I offered commentary, along the lines of ‘it’s with the right back, he’s gonna knock it to the centre half…he’s knocked it to the centre half…now it’s back to the keeper…short pass out left…the left back’s knocked it to the centre half…back to the keeper…now the right back…’ and this appeared to go on for 90 minutes. (A couple of fans in the East Upper had the sense to leave after about an hour of this. How very sage.)

Yeah, yeah, they scored. I can only guess their manager is describing this game as a masterclass…bore the opposition to death, then go for the jugular. (BTW, Swansea have previous here; 2 years ago, they came to Oakwell…they were near the top, us bottom…and they proceeded to be the only team to come to Oakwell that season not trying to win. That day, they came for a nil-nil and got it. Tonite, they failed.) The opener came from nowhere. Swansea, going nowhere, nowhere fast, played it out left. Brittain, slightly sucked into the middle, never got anywhere near the left winger, who simply kicked it low across goal for a tap-in. It all looked so easy (but if it’s easy, why don’t WE do it?) It was Styles’ man who scored, but, really, where were the centre halves? (Seriously, where WAS Mads Andersen tonite? Dropped? Injured?)

That was 74 minutes in. ‘Hurrah, a goal’ was my response. This game hadn’t died a death, it arrived in a coffin. ‘We’ll come out firing now.’ (Actually, I never believed that, but I did say it in jest.) 5 minutes later they sealed it – presuming they hadn’t already done that with the first. A. Swan picks the ball up 35 yards out, jogs forward unchallenged for 20 yards and buries it in the bottom corner. In a season of dreadful goals conceded, this must be right up there with the worst of them. WTF (the ‘W’ is ‘where’, pedants) is our central midfield? Well, where’ve they been all night to be honest?

OK, it’s also true Swansea nearly scored twice 1st half, a backpost header being blocked, and a cutback inexcusably stabbed wide. Our one (ONE!) second half response was Devante Cole (Devante Cole!) skinning the left back, moving into the box, and pulling it back for Cauley to scuff. However great the run was though, the cut back was simply appalling, as he somehow made it bounce, giving Cauley little chance. Surely it’s easier to kick a ball along the floor than make it bobble up? Well, you’d think so. (The pitch, by the way, looked pristine. MOTM the groundsman?) Our first half attacking effort was limited to a Frieser shot which was blocked before it even entered the penalty area. If we had another shot all night, you’re lying.

Onwards and upwards!

*** Jordan Williams. Never beaten all game at left back.
** Moon. Go on then, part of a defence which ensured Collins had barely owt to do.
* Helik. Ditto.

Official MOTM: I shall repeat verbatim what I wrote last home game - Do we have a new tradition whereby we don’t name a MOTM when we’re getting beat?

Despatches:
It’s the new manager’s 1st game, and you could see one change – a rigid 4-3-3 which forbade Callum Britain any movement forward. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise, since I read in the Chron his recent run of 53 consecutive games had come to an end. Drink that in. 53 matches as a wing back / midfielder without scoring a goal. And actually, I thought he had a decent game tonite. Such a shame he got caught for the 1st goal, but the defence are under instructions to move across when the ball is on the other side, so I blame the system rather than Callum.

As I say, Poya Asbaghi’s 1st match (yes, I had to look up his name). After a dismal 1st half, how would we respond? What would he say at half-time? If he was English, I’m sure he’d invoke the analogies of the trenches, or Dunkirk. Maybe he went for the Swedish legend of Gustav Vasa, the king who fled enemy troops with a marathon cross country ski journey for which his name is now attached to the oldest race of its ilk in the world? COME ON! YOU CAN DO IT! Just think, Vasa skiied 56 miles, cross country! All you have to do is pass a ball properly against Swansea City!!! Or maybe he brought in his Iranian heritage. ‘Just surrender and die.’ (Can you tell I know nowt about Iranian history?) ‘Go on lads, get your ar5es kicked like our boys in that there Embassy incident that Bob problies enjoys watching every now and again on youtube’. Hi Bob! Just checking you’re reading…

It was abysmal. The players came out and ‘performed’ exactly as they’d done 1st half. Getting behind the ball, not putting too much pressure on the defenders, who played the ball around them, always having an extra man. The press, such as it was, did improve for 5 minutes, as Iseka and Carlton Morris came on for Freezer and Cole. That’ll problies explain Swansea possession over 90 minutes falling to a miserly 79%. 79%! At home! Let me get my abacus out…that’s 21% possession to us AT HOME TO SWANSEA CITY. And if we can’t get the ball, WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. Who’s been our best ballwinner this season? Manchester City’s Gomes? Where’s he? Benched. Meantime, I’m watching Josh Benson and Romal Palmer trot around and not break sweat. Not break sweat. I AM NOT KIDDING. There’s a reason I was never a central midfield player. You had to be able to run from box to box. These 2 trot from one edge of the centre circle, to the other, and back. For 90 minutes. (Again, that must be under instruction.)

I am running out of superlatives to describe how bad each game is this season. (And why are they called ‘superlatives’ if it’s extreme sh*teness?) The whole performance was a clusterf*ck of Boris Johnson proportions. Poya (I can’t keep looking up how to spell his surname) said pre-match that success this season will be staying up. Staying up? Success will be finishing above Derby (21 points deducted) cos I see no way in the world that this team will avoid relegation. I think I’ve seen 3 relegations in my Reds-supporting life and (***more hyperbole alerts***) this looks like the worst of the bunch. Can’t pass, can’t press, can’t create. Yes, they can defend a bit, but we aren’t going to eke out enough points with half a dozen nil-nils.

We are f***ed.

Drink du jour: As if I had time to have a drink.

Away: 365. Highlight of the game was surely the Swans idiot running on the pitch to celebrate the opener and being pounced on by half a dozen stewards and carted off. Listen, mate, it’s Barnsley, not Barcelona. (After the 2nd, another fan invaded the pitch and was dragged off, but I think this was a Reds fan doing his best to get himself a ban. Me? Perhaps I could make a statement by diving head first from the upper tier. It’s gotta be less painful than watching this.)

Matches played in front of a Main Stand safe enough for journalists/directors/non-playing players etc, but not safe enough for fans: 4

The Damage:
c. £25 petrol
= c. £25

Couldn’t even get a programme, they’d all packed up.

The Tunes:The Orb’s Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld Show (The Orb)

Fulham 4-1 BFC, Saturday 20th November 2021

‘At least we’ve got the organ grinder today, and not the monkey.’

They must be a most unhealthy lot in that there London, given the number of medical exemptions there must be to qualify for travelling via TFL without a mask on. Or maybe they’re just illiterate and can’t read? Either way, I’d say TFL’s insistence on passengers wearing a mask to…you know…help prevent the transmission of some terrible disease…is being ignored by a good 40% of travellers and approximately 100% of those under 20. Of course, my deeply scientific research is based purely on the carriages and buses I was in.

YES! I was in London village, my home of 28 or so years that I hadn’t set foot in for over a year due to ‘circumstances beyond my control’ (another phrase I’ve grown used to with TFL over the years). I’d forgotten how much I love London. The ‘blitz spirit’ which means we’re immune to any enemy invasion, whether it be Nazis, terrorists, or pandemics. The number of people staggering around at 3 in the morning…or even walking through Rotherhithe Tunnel (how do they breathe in there?). And foxes scanning the Sarf Landan streets for evidence of kebab. And the beggars / homeless. I’ll say this for Ferryhill, we don’t have people out on the street. (Too bloody cold.)

I’d been eyeing Fulham away for a fortnight, and even my dad’s best efforts to die last week didn’t put me off. (He left his bed for the first time in 13 months, as he was whisked to hospital, choking to death and turning a different colour. Luckily, he survived. Collected at 3pm, he saw a doctor by 10….and was sent home by carriage (ambulance) at 4am. Good job I have a greedy cat – Redfearn woke me up at 3:45 wanting food. Anyway, dad’s fine, or as fine as one can be with Alzheimers, Parkinson’s and renal cancer, to name but three.

I drove down late Friday night, once dad had settled. (I’d arranged my cousin to come and stay Satdy). Roads’d be empty, I thought. Should make good time, I thought. I was kicked off the motorway 4 times, as well as enduring 20 odd miles of ‘average speed limit’ around Northamptonshire. Even coming toward London I was kicked off the M1 as it met the M25. Anyway, it was nice to see so many roadmen out at night. Someone has to put them cones out.

After my longest uninterrupted sleep in a year (see: Redfearn / dad) I was raring to go. Who doesn’t love a trip to Fulham? The walk through the park, the Thames alongside, the Cottage…the ridiculously priced pints in Parson’s Green. Yes, we were back at the White Horse, and given the amount of money I’ve saved by NOT going to the pubs of Ferryhill, who cared that my pint cost £6.80? (Well, Lord Selwood, actually, cos he got it in!) But it wasn’t just any pint. Unpasteurised Pilsner Urquell. This really is the amber nectar, albeit more than 3 times the price of the same pint in its home, Plzen, Czech Republic.

Did I drink too much pre-match? Or was I simply enjoying matchday too much to worry about the match? Dunno. I sat with Anton, 1st half, had a good natter, then joined ‘the boys’ second. I know Fulham ran rings around us, though I was very disappointed in the way we conceded the opener. A cross came, in, Mitrovic was being marked by not one, but two experienced centre halves…oh, no he isn’t. 1-0. Their second…didn’t we give them the ball (I s’pose all goals start from the opposition ‘giving them the ball’)..a lucky rebound and he’s clean through. The 3rd, he shins it in and their 4th we just stand and watch. I don’t know why the left sided defender (Jordan Williams?) doesn’t just applaud too, if he’s that admiring.

Inbetween all that, and them hitting the woodwork twice, and ruining countless other breaks with a misplaced last pass, we actually pull one back at 3-0. Cauley has an open goal, 3 yards out..and hits the post. That’ll do wonders for the lad’s confidence. Big Vic faces a harder job burying the rebound, but shows Cauley how it should be done. 3-1 flattered us, as did 4-1. If Fulham had repeated their 7-0 whitewash of Blackburn, we couldn’t have complained. I loved every minute.

Onwards and upwards!

*** No-one. I hear Palmer played well. I don’t remember him being on the pitch (seriously). If Palmer’s a ball playing midfielder…and we didn’t have the ball…what did he do?
** No-one. I don’t remember Jesus Christ Carlton Morris either, though I heard he came on. Did he start? Either way, his second coming was on a par with the Stone Roses. (Niche cultural reference, that one.)
* No-one. Yeah, yeah, Collins made a couple of saves, but nothing any keeper wouldn’t have dealt with, and he didn’t deal with at least 4 others

Londontykes' MOTM:
1. Palmer 2= Collins / No-one

Despatches: The real highlight of the game was the fans. The worse it got, the louder it got (in the away end). Much to Chris’s annoyance, all we had left was sarcasm and renditions of oldies but goldies. (‘Jason, Jason Jason, Jason Jason, Jason Jason Scotland…Marlon, Marlon Marlon, Marlon Marlon, Marlon Marlon Harewood’ and something about Bambo Diabo’s d*** amongst others. Mind, points knocked off for anything to do with ‘f***ing the Pope’ (WTF???) and I’m left scratching my head at ’10 German bombers’. I didn’t realise Fulham were Nazis. Or was Lord Haw Haw a Cottager? Very probably, from what I’ve heard… But the best was at 2-0. ‘Let’s pretend we’ve scored a goal’ went the chant…and while the away end bounced, the rest of the ground joined in. Fulham had made it three-zero. Still, every time they scored, all you could hear was ‘Barn-sa-lee, Barn-sa-lee’. Home fans to our right smacked their little Leicester City clappers like seals at a circus. And then when we did score, it was met by our new goal chant…’we’ve scored a goal, we’ve scored a goal, we’ve scored a goal.’ I don’t think Chris cared for that one much, either. But, honestly, if we left the sarcasm at home, we’d cry. (Chris then did joke about the new manager taking one look at this bunch and getting back on a plane to Sweden that night. Let’s just say he’s got his work cut out.)

Drink du jour: Like Highlander, there can be only one. Pilsner Urquell, unpasteurised. ‘Arrrr much!?’

Away: A lot more than this team deserves. 1200? Maybe more.

The Damage:
c. £90 petrol
£30 ent
£3.50 programme
= c. £123.50 (plus beers!)

The Tunes:
None. Soaking in the London vibes!

Tow Law 7-1 Durham City, Tuesday 16th November 2021

Tow Law 7-1 Durham City, Northern League Division 2, Ironworks Road, att. 135

Dad nearly died yesterday. Choking on his porridge, the carers called 999 and between them, the paramedics and the staff at University Hospital Durham, he survived…and was sent back home at 4am. (Luckily, the cat woke me up at 3:45 for food.) I’d spent the evening at the hospital with him, only leaving when I was told by a nurse friend that ‘he can go home when transport’s available’ didn’t mean sometime in the next half an hour. ‘It could be hours.’ It was. So it was great that by this evening he was ‘back to normal’ – if normal means bedbound and asleep – and I was able to rescue my shredded nerves with a Northern League match.

Slim pickings this week too – Tow Law. No other league matches this midweek, no chance to expand on my number of grounds visited, just a simple trip out for enjoyment. And Tow Law IS one of my favourites, the Ironworks Road ground hanging off the edge of the North Pennines, proper middle of nowhere territory. A lovely drive too, up the back roads of County Durham, from the depths of the Wear near Willington, then up, up, up…to Tow Law…then down, down, down Ironworks Road to the ground. Love it. Plus the chance to see the Northern League’s worst team – Durham City.

Durham City, crisis club, seemingly on the brink forever, are hanging in there, surviving…just. Evicted from their own ground 6 years, playing at Consett, and now Willington, matches postponed this season through not having enough players, being forced to pay a bond just to be allowed to continue in the Northern League…Football League membership from 1921-28 is a long way away. (I must look this up. How many other Northern League sides are former members of the ‘EFL’? Ashington? North Shields?) Conceding 10 in earlier defeats to Boldon and Sunderland West End, the other week they exceeded even themselves by getting whacked 16-1 at Carlisle City. How bad could they be?

Well, I walked in 5 minutes late and within a minute the Durham keeper was picking the ball out of the net. 4-0 after 19 minutes, 6-0 just after the half hour, Durham pulled one back after 35. ‘Heads up, Tow Law!’ At half-time we had the unusual substitution of the away keeper, but what really kept the score down was the number of subs Tow Law made, as everyone got a trot out. The Durham reserve keeper looked a lot more assured, even if he looked a good 4 inches off 6 foot. Meantime, Tow Law, if not shot shy, were certainly shot-on-target shy, consistently blazing high or wide from long distance. Finally, the levy was breached, as, untrue to form, the keeper spilled a long shot and the rebound was tapped in. We were 74 minutes down, a minute after the away centre half was sent off for a second yellow, clipping the forward when clear. Still, there must have been envious glances, as the constant drizzle became more driven, and one guy was off to the warmth of the changing room. It’s now 16 defeats in a row and counting.

The Damage:
£5 ent
= £5

The Tunes:
The Orb’s Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld (The Orb)

Guisborough Town 1-2 Penrith, Saturday 13th November 2021

Guisborough Town 1-2 Penrith, Northern League Division 1, King George V Ground, att. 434

On my way home yesterday I called at a Lidl on the outskirts of Middlesbrough. ‘There’s definitely more than 2 kilos of onions in that bag…but I’ll let it go.’ I think I was being accused of stealing extra onions. Now, if I’m going to shoplift, it’s not going to be onions. What kind of a place IS Middlesbrough?

I digress. As usual. It’s another ‘international break’ so no fixtures in the upper echelons and a chance to visit another Northern League ground. And it turns out I’m not the only Barnsley fan choosing Guisborough today, as I get my pint in, wander around the perimeter, and bump into Kelvin, Ashley and Eric, all faces I know from Oakwell. (A 4th, Molly, woulda been there too had life not got in the way.) I had a shorter journey, yet Guisborough was still at the extremity of where I hadn’t been yet in the Northern League this season. Being a Saturday, it’s a chance to venture further away from my County Durham base.

Guisborough looked ideal. With other responsibilities (life!) in the morn, I didn’t quite have time to visit local beauty spot Roseberry Topping, but I could fit in a wander round the town, and see Guisborough Priory, mostly destroyed under Henry VIII’s policy of monasterial dissolution. I even looked up the opening times: 10am – 4pm. Ideal. What I glazed over was it’s closed November-March…and it’s now November. Oh well. I could see the top of it, but even my efforts to circumnavigate it for a view were ruined by a school. At least I found an open chippy and had (below par) fish and chips.

The town centre was thriving by modern standards, lots of independent shops, and I treated myself to a few CDs at one of the charity shops. The market was rather underwhelming though, 3 stalls, one of which was selling ‘bandanners’. Is that a cross between a banner and a bandana, I wondered? (No, it wasn’t.) I then jumped back in the car and set the satnav for the King George V Ground. As an aside, we have one of those in my town too – what was it with George V and recreation grounds?

There’s plenty of parking, which was lucky, cos there was plenty of cars. Turned out to be a bumper crowd today, 434. Once through the turnstile, I marvelled at a guard of honour from Guisborough’s junior teams, awaiting the players. (I don’t think any of the kids watched the game itself, preferring to play footie behind one goal.) With the teams out, I found the bar and waited to be served. And waited a bit more. Turned out the barman was outside ‘enjoying’ the minute’s silence for Remembrance Day. It’s a sizable bar too, and had a decent choice ie, some IPA on tap – Maltsmiths. Add this to Ashington as one of the few who serve owt but lager and crap bitter.

Then, as I say, I went outside, intending on the usual circumference of the ground, but instead bumped into some familiar faces and hung out with them behind the far goal. One thing we all agreed was that groundhopping for a day was far more preferable than watching Barnsley in current circumstances (managerless; off the bottom only due to Derby’s points deduction). The others also had the excitement of the golden goal competition, but as the 27th and 29th minutes passed by, all hopes were on Kelvin’s 90th minute for the 1st goal. Does that include injury time, thereby gaining 4 or 5 extra minutes? We’ll never know, as after 66 minutes Penrith opened the scoring. By now, we were under cover in the stand. The rain had started to come down, and maybe this helped the scoring, as it zipped around the pitch. 6 minutes later it was 1-2, as Guisborough’s temporary equaliser was quashed by Jamie Armstrong running free on the right and firing through the keeper’s palms. As I said, without the rain, that’s a save all day long.

Aside from my own company, I’d recommend a visit to Guisborough Town. Along with certain other Northern League grounds I’ve been to – Crook, Easington, Ashington – there’s a ‘buzz’ about proceedings, as fans crowded the Main Stand side of the pitch with their beers. A raised platform next to the Main Stand meant a second line of fans with immaculate views of the pitch. I wandered around…behind the goal had a small bank ‘Do Not Stand on the grass bank’ behind which was an expanse of grass large enough for the gaggle of kids to have a proper kickaround. Opposite, a two-step terrace with propped roof ran over half the length of the pitch. The other goal, meantime, had the odd building/portacabin as well as the external fence and turnstile. Yet surrounding 3 sides of the ground were trees reaching skyward, giving it a real enclosed feel. Quaint, buzzy, plenty of cover….I’ll be back. Sometime after March.

The Damage:
£7 ent
= £6

The Tunes:
Ultra Mono (Idles)
The Orb’s Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld (The Orb)*

*79p from the charity shop. Bargain.