England 3-1 Spain, Saturday 21st June 2025

England 3-1 Spain, UEFA Under 21 European Championship, City Arena (Stadion Antona Malatinskeho), att. 8,247

Ever since the disastrous Brexit vote of 2016, my partner has been trying to visit every country in the EU, so here we are in Slovakia. Handily, there’s the Under 21 Euro championship going on so a plan is hatched. The week or so we’re out here it’s the quarter finals and beyond. We fly in Satdy, same day England play Spain in Trnava. Wednesday there’s a semi in Kosice (won’t be England) and next Satdy is the final in Bratislava. Chuck in a couple of days in Zilina and job’s a good un.

We catch a train from Bratislava to Trnava. I’ve been to this ground before and I remember one thing; it was a midweek game and in order to get a train to wherever I was staying (not Trnava) I had to leave at half-time. Not tonite. Tonite we’re staying in possibly Trnava’s only hotel, a building that looks like it’s been converted from a communist block of flats. It’s hard-going getting there too. It’s red hot (30 odd degrees) and it’s a fair walk from the railway station. On the way though we pass the ground. There is absolutely zero sign of a game here tonite, aside from a poster telling people they can’t buy tickets for the game at the ground. It’s the UEFA website or nothing.

After a shower to cool down, we’re off and about. The city centre is small and the ground is adjacent. We park up at a pub in town and enjoy a couple of beers as we’re accosted by a pair of German groundhoppers here for the game. They’re Hansa Rostock fans (renowned for being right wing) and are annoyed when, on discussing the atmosphere at German games, I compliment St. Pauli (renowned left wing). I admit to being a bit of a rascal here, though my opinion stands. But the Germans were good company, before we moved on for food, a typically Slovakian menu (meat, potato pancakes)and more gorgeous (Czech) beer.

It was less than 10 minutes to walk to the ground. Half stadium, half shopping centre, it still looks brand new and spotless. Built in 2015, 3 sides of two tiers are linked together in a horse-shoe. The 4th side is a small single-tier affair, limited in its size by the street behind, though its roof proudly declares ‘CITY ARENA’ in bold lettering. Still, when will Trnava need 18,800 seats? (Ans: when England played here in 2016. But the point is ‘rarely’. Spartak Trnava average around 4,000.)

We enter via turnstiles on the main road having had to walk through the aforementioned shopping centre to get there. Fairly quickly in, and we’re soon in a queue for a drink. The heat is oppressive, not the sort of thing a couple of pasty English types enjoy. In fact, the shade of a concrete concourse offered some relief, before we bought a couple of Radlers (or shandy to you or I). Thirst quenching.

I’d been wondering what sort of attendance it would be all day and as we passed through the vomitory it became apparent certain parts of the ground were closed. Still, it was a healthy 8,000+, with most in the stand we occupied, on the long side opposite the single tier. There was a good mix of fans too, not just England and Spain (though both were few in number), but other participating nations as well. But by far the most number appeared to be locals, out to see the future Harry Kane, or Rodri, perhaps? They were in for a treat.

For those of us whose team’s matches are not interrupted by VAR, we had an early treat; Spain’s 3rd minute opener ruled out after 5 minutes of discussion. And they say VAR is ruining football! (Is it Norway who’ve since got rid of it?) But by the quarter of an hour mark, England were 2 goals up. McAtee’s is Johnny-on-the-spot as a corner isn’t cleared. Then Liverpool’s Quansah intercepts a ball in his own half, drives forward 50 yards. As defenders back off, expecting the pass that never comes, he hits one from outside the box, the keeper spills and Liverpool’s Harvey Elliott is there on the rebound. I’d hoped the Spanish custodian might be called ‘Jesus’ on the offchance I could riff on the old gag ‘Jesus saves...Dalglish scores on the rebound’ graffitied sign outside a Liverpudlian church. Unfortunately, he’s called Alejandro.

Now, I’m not the biggest England fan. Anodyne football, overpaid superstars, etc...but this Young England are a different kettle of fish. Passing and moving at pace, always looking to go FORWARD. What’s all that about? They still look capable of defensive deficiency (fullback Livramento looks weak, and I’m sure he’s one of the ones who’ve got a FULL England cap or 2) but you can’t have everything at Under 21. Hopefully they’ll keep the positive and improve on the negative.

I think it’s McAtee giving the ball away on the edge of his own box, dribbling, and in the panic that follows Quansah chops down a Spaniard as he cuts inside. The stutter does for Beadle in goal and Javi Guerra puts the ball the other way. Half-time isn’t far away and a chance for England to recoup.

At half-time, my partner takes ill. Not quite ill enough to go home (I’ll spare the details) but we go and sit behind the goal as there’s barely anybody there and it offers quick access to the toilet. Spain dominate early, but as the game goes on, I fancy England to hit them on the break. Head Coach Carsley sends on 5 subs in 3 second half bursts and the tide swings England’s way. One of them, Jonathan Rowe (of my partner’s team Norwich, but soon to be Marseilles) bursts forward and nicks it in the corner of the box just before the keeper takes him out. Penalty, and fellow sub Elliott Andersen (Forest) bangs it down the middle. 3-1 and game over.

England:
James Beadle (Brighton & Hove Albion; on loan at Sheffield Wednesday last season)
Jack Hinshelwood (Brighton & Hove Albion)
Quansah (Liverpool)
Charlie Cresswell (Toulouse)
Tino Livramento (Newcastle United)
Tyler Morton (Liverpool)
Alex Scott (Bournemouth)
Omari Hutchinson (Ipswich Town)
McAtee (Manchester City)
Harvey Elliott (Liverpool)
Jay Stansfield (Birmingham City)

The Damage:
€20 ent
€3.70 Radler
€3 deposit on plastic beaker
= €26.70

Worksop Town 2-1 Ashton United, Tuesday 29th April 2025

Worksop Town 2-1 Ashton United, Northern Premier League Premier Division Play-off semi-final, Sandy Lane, att. 1,756

With the official Northern Premier League season over, it’s now the play-offs. I’ve the choice of Stocksbridge or Worksop tonite. I’ve been eyeing Worksop all season and they’re playing Ashton United. Does Kev fancy it? He lives in Ashton (under Lyne) and besides, the winners may end up playing his side Darlington. Yes, he’s in. Stocksbridge will have to wait (a shame, actually, as their Northern Premier League East play-off garners a crowd of 953, or about 4 times their usual).

Kev drives the 20 or so minutes to mine and I’ll drive the hour and half to Worksop. He could’ve gone on the Ashton supporters’ coach. It’s an uneventful journey and Satnav Kev gets us to the ground in time enough to find a space in a nearby housing estate 10 minutes’ walk away. The ground itself is busy, a long queue forming outside. It’s half an hour to kick-off, an aeon in my terms. The programmes are sold out. Of course they are. Oddly, we’re channelled through the main building while the adjacent turnstiles remain closed.

Security don’t let us through the internal door into the social club – but the toilet’s down this corridor. He lets me go to the toilet, provided I don’t then slip into the social club. All becomes apparent when we go outside and find the social club queue stretching outside the main door into the ground and virtually to the corner flag. We stand in it till kick-off and barely move. I’m not that bothered about a pint, but am quite willing to let Kev stand there while I crane a neck for a view. It’s packed.

The social club is at one end, and beside it there’s a small covered terrace. Inbetween the terrace and an adjacent small, modern stand towards the corner flag is the tunnel. I see no gaps over here, so, when Kev magically re-appears 25 minutes into the match with an average pint of lager each, we head clockwise to the far end, where there looks to be some, not much, space.

There’s flat standing by the corner flag, leading along the touchline to the main stand, maybe 5 rows of seats that stretch two-thirds the way either side of the halfway line. If there aren’t enough fractions for you there. The stand is full of stanchions, yet doesn’t look all that old. Indeed, the ground as a whole is disappointing. For such a historic non-league side, with excellent gates (700+ even in the 7th tier), I expected more. Nevermind the shenanighans of getting a beer. A plastic pitch doesn’t help either.

We walk down the front of the stand. At the far end there’s a little more flat standing. At the far end, there’s a small stand the width of the pitch. Our hopes are pinned on this, yet when we get there, it turns out there’s ONE step of terracing. What’s the point??? There’s enough space for half a dozen steps. We force our way through the yoof to the other side of the goal, where we can finally get a decent view of the action.

Kev, always on the lookout for ex-Darlo, points out the Worksop centre forward, Laim Hughes, a beast of a specimen, with the tattoos to match. Turns out the last he was heard of in Darlo was when a coke deal went wrong. He never did get much chance to make an impression in the north-east (beyond the local crime scene) but smashes in the opener here, right in front of us.

Half-time arrives and with Worksop kicking the other way, we manage to gain some space, as the home fans decide to squeeze into the opposite, packed end, to be replaced by 20 or so vociferous Ashton fans. And virtually on the hour Ashton equalise, a bullet header sending the hordes into raptures. United have been more in the game this half, but it still comes as a surprise. What will happen if it’s a draw? Penalties? Extra-time?

We don’t find out. Sadly, favourites Worksop bag another goal on 76 to win the game and gain home advantage in the play-off final (which would have been against Stockton, but after beating Guiseley they were disqualified for playing an ineligible player…who they thought was eligible – sent off on the last day of the season, they didn’t think his ban kicked in till a week later. Careless.)

And the highlight? That was yet to come. Driving out of the housing estate, I had to stop to let someone cross the road. A hedgehog. I LOVE hedgehogs!

The Damage:
£13 ent
= £13