It was a good job I got there early too. Parking was at a premium, even half an hour before kick-off. I was lucky, and on making my way to the gorund, could already hear the beating of a drum and the buzz of the crowd. I parted with my 6 quid (on my card; this is the 9th tier!) but couldn’t find any programmes. Presumably sold out. Entering in one corner, it was already very busy. The yoof and their drum had bagsied the covered area at this end, so I wasn’t going there. I walked along the byeline and found the social club, a modern affair with some good choices of drink (ie, they had a couple fo SALT beers, and Guinness for the less fussy). Indeed, they’d also opened a can bar at the entrance. Having one of the highest crowds in the country at their level (they had the 3rd highest in the country on Satdy, 717) the relative smallness of the social club necessitates this.
After the social club comes the refreshment bar...Annie’s? There’s was quite a lot of choice, but a queue to match it. The 250 seater stand was plump on the halfway line and worrying about being stood behind folk to see the game, I thought I’d take the old man option and snuggle in. 2nd off back row, excellent view, aside from not quite being able to see the far left corner. With no steps of terracing, just hard standing, between here and the social club, the crowd was 4 deep. Behind the left goal, where the Stocksbridge yoof collected, it was more hard standing, while opposite is a cricket field.
A cricket field! In the oldest football ground in the world. Well, I suppose it’s the other way round, the cricket team came first. A rope separated the cricket and football pitches. It doesn’t seem like viewing from this side is encouraged, though as the game went on a few encroached round the corner to this side. The one bit of terracing meantime was under that cover which ran from the corner flag at the entrance to the goalpost. 3 steps. Beyond the goal is only open, flat standing, but a glorious old stone wall behind it. Even so, I’m told this hard standing is new this season, possibly reflecting Hallam have to do SOMETHING in the case of ground grading if they get promotion. (They currently lie 2nd, which would give home advantage in the semi and...hopefully...the final in the play-offs.)
The other elephant in the room is the slope of the pitch. It’s HUGE. Surely every game is a ‘game of two halves’? I am happy to be proved wrong, as the opening 4 goals tonite come with the team kicking UP the slope. I’ve company too. Turns out I’m sat next to the father of Hallam’s goalkeeper, and he’s a mine of information. Luckily, Junior has a decent game and can’t be faulted for the goals.
Playing up the slope 1st half at home to a side in a higher league, the odds were against Hallam. Indeed, early on, it’s all Steels. The bald bloke at the back for Hallam looks a liability to me (turns out he normally plays up front!) but he improved, the team held out and with half-time on the horizon, the deadlock is broken. Hallam break up the right and Leon Howarth buries it off the far post. Can they make it to half-time a goal up? NO! They break again, same place, and Rio Allan outmuscles 2 defenders to slot in, again at the far post.
The keeper’s dad is realistic. ‘This game isn’t over’. I go and use the facilities and instead of going on my usual tour of the ground, I return to my seat. I decide he’s enjoying my company. And besides, I’m not going to get a better view. The second half is mostly one way traffic (uphill). Hallam’s forwards can’t keep hold of the ball, the midfield have lost the ability to run with the ball, and Stocksbridge are camped in Hallam’s half. Even the keeper’s virtually on the halfway line. ‘The neutral in me could do with Stocksbridge scoring’ I say, halfway through the half. A minute later it’s 2-1, as a soft effort off a corner dribbles in by the post. Why does no-one put a man on the post anymore? (OK, it’s cos statistically, you’re better off putting your men elsewhere. Really?)
With 76 on the clock, it’s two-all, a bullet of a header flashing past Hugo in goal (we’re on first name terms, even if he doesn’t know it). Cue a flare lit in what has become the away end. It’s around now we wonder whether the game goes straight to pens at 90, cos it seems Hallam’s best hope. Earlier rounds did, apparently. I bet the programme knows. But it’s all irrelevant. With only one side looking likely, Hallam attack down the left and Leon Howarth curls a beauty over the keeper and into the far corner. ‘It’s in!’ I exclaim, before it’s in. A 90th minute winner, in a semi final, against your local rivals, in front of a packed crowd. No wonder the ref’s whistle is met with a pitch invasion. I’d forgotten what glorious times looked like. Brilliant.
The Damage:
£6 ent
£5.20 SALT Alpacalypse Session IPA
= £11.20
*the chat on the way out was that the final (v Worksop, 2 divisions higher) would be at Doncaster’s subbuteo stadium. A pity, as last season it was at Hillsborough. However, here we are the day after, and the final’s going to be at Rotherham’s New York Stadium. I might go see my new mate after all.
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