Workington 3-1 Ilkeston Town, Saturday 12th September 2026

Workington 3-1 Ilkeston Town, Northern Premier League Premier Division, Fibrus Community Stadium (Derwent Park), att. 818

I was reminded yesterday of schoolboy holidays to Devon and Cornwall. Bear with me. I was thinking of the last (only) time I’ve been to Workington and it was a beautiful, sunny day. Today was similar. Sunny, warm. And as a kid, calling in on family at Somerset on the way to a Dawlish, or Perranporth, or Woolacombe, I’d marvel at how it never rained where they lived. Anyway, it never rains in Workington as far as I can deduce, and it’s nice to reminisce over those holidays I never failed to enjoy.

It’s a long drive to Workington too. 3 hours – and I actually live in the north (near Huddersfield). I can see why they were voted out of the league in the 70s. But it’s that Football League heritage that brings me and other groundhoppers here. The old Borough Park ground is now closed, the football team sharing the nearby Fibrus Community Stadium (Derwent Park) while the local council knocks down and rebuilds Borough Park before turning it into the 5,000 capacity Cumberland Sports Village. Both rugby league and football teams will share the new stadium and Derwent Park will join Borough Park in being demolished.

Knowing the geography, I park up across the bridge from Borough Park in the aptly named Northside. (I’ve now had another childhood memory; it never dawned on me as a kid that the street behind mine...and the last in town…’Southside’ was the very last street at the south of my hometown.) From the bridge, you can look down on Borough Park and as I crossed I saw a few enterprising groundhoppers (middle-aged, Caucasian, nosey – how does anyone tell a groundhopper?) looking for a way in to the now derelict ground. If you can’t beat ‘em, etc. I’m not far behind and enjoy a 20 minute exploration. With the others perhaps more determined to see kick-off at Derwent Park, I am soon on my own. Feel the history. Feel the sadness. Another old ground soon to be dismantled in the name of progress.

Derwent Park, as the name suggests, is about 10 minutes further along the River Derwent. This is another absolute gem, but in a totally different way, as it also used to house a speedway team, the Workington Comets. Consequently, there is a large curved terrace at the Town End of the stadium, though the top third is barriered-off for some reason. Looks safe enough, though with a current safety certificate for just over 3,000, in a ground that once held 17,000 for a rugby league game, they’re taking no chances.

The far end curve isn’t as large, but is grassed over. A path around its rear is closed off, so no walk around the inside perimeter for me. And with crowds not coming close to 3,000, this makes Derwent Park essentially a two-sided stadium. To the right, as you enter, is a large covered terrace which runs the length of the pitch. ‘Cider Pete’s Bar’ sells a couple of cans of something, amidst not much else. So where are fans getting those pints of beer from? (Ans: a container the other side of the ground.) I enjoy the first half on this side, parking my raincoat on a crush barrier as I’m actually too hot. It’s just like Somerset this is.

Workington score twice in the opening 10 minutes or so, both close range finishes. Ilkeston appear to have plenty of players who look big and powerful, but have no idea on how to defend. Still, I shouldn’t be surprised. The home side go on to record their 6th successive win (5th successive game in which they’ve scored 3). Ilkeston aren’t really in it. Even when they pull a goal back to make it 2-1, it merely spurs Workington on to make the game safe.

Second half, I’ve retreated to the Main Stand. Despite being some yards from the pitch, the height brings even better views. Again, it spans virtually the full pitch length and tapers at each end. They don’t build ‘em like this anymore. Mainly cos everyone demands perfect views. Here, we have stanchions holding up the roof, and non-league floodlights (4 on each touchline). But I can drink my Angelo Poretti in peace following my sausage and bacon bap (no butter). I love it here, just as I loved it at Borough Park. I’ll reserve judgement on the Cumberland Sports Village.

The Damage:
£15 ent
£3 programme
£4.80 sausage and bacon bap
£4.50 Angelo Poretti (pint of)
= £27.30

Annfield Plain 0-3 Durham FC Corinthians, Wednesday 24th April 2024

Annfield Plain 0-3 Durham FC Corinthians, Wearside League Premier Division, Derwent Park, att. c.40

Tonite, I am at Annfield. Annfield Plain, a village somewhere near Stanley in County Durham, which is somewhere near Beamish Open Air Museum. If you’re any sort of history buff crossed with football nut, you absolutely need to combine a trip to Annfield with Beamish. There’s even a local steam train line at Tanfield, but I can’t vouch for its amazingness, or how often it runs.

I always thought Annfield Plain were old members of the Northern League, so always planned a visit. Ther slightest of research suggests not. Erstwhile members of the Wearside League (these days a feeder to the Northern) but earlier a member of the North-Eastern League, which had some of the north east’s bigger non-league sides, as well as the reserve teams of the local Football League sides. Indeed, in 1947, Annfield even applied for Football League admittance. This I cannot believe.

The ground is a gem, once my satnav found its way through a residential estate to find it. Up a potholed track, there was a sizable car park. Indeed, given it’s a 6:45pm kick-off (no floodlights) I even beat 1 or 2 players as I arrive at half-six. There’s another car park inside the club gates. I guess the rest of the players have parked up early.

The entrance is brick, the same brick that makes up countless terraces in former mining communities such as Annfield. There’s 5 doors. If they’re all turnstiles, it’s a tad ambitious by today’s standards. Tonite there is only one open, and I’m pleased to see an actual turnstile. An old codger welcomes me, takes my money and asks me if I know where everything is. ‘I haven’t a clue’ I reply, and he’s more than happy to tell me where the stand is, where the refreshment room is, wjere the toilets are. Love it! (Later, as he headed toward the net at full-time – he was the one climbing a ladder to take them down – he tells me he’s 75. Good on him, he’s a credit to the club and a credit to the village.)

I’m hungry, so I try to follow his directions at the back of the stand. I timidly open a door and find I’m in the right place, a room the size of some people’s dining rooms, with a small counter and a pile of used paint tins in the corner. I have a tea and a Snickers. I thought £1.50 was cheap but the Snickers is TINY. Is that really the size of them these days? Mustn’t grumble though. I’m trying to lose weight.

Derwent Park is GEM. Three sides have grass banking, thereby ensuring a good view wherever. One and a half sides have a corrugated fence which leans over at the top, enough to shield you from the elements (as long as those elements don’t bring the whole thing down). Behind the dugouts on the far side is a former brick building of some description, an unused toilet block perhaps. Then there’s the Main (only) stand side, the Marshall Lawson Stand. Marshall Lawson is the club’s oldest ever player, once turning out at 66 in a game v Marske (as club secretary he was desperate for the club to fulfil its fixtures, though his debut was at 17).

The Marshall Lawson Stand is some construction. 4 small rows of seats, covered by a barely sloping corrugated roof on stilts. ‘I have LITERALLY got a shed as big as that’ messaged a mate. It sits one side of the halfway line and the players come out of an adjacent tunnel which leads into the building behind, containing changing rooms, snack bar and toilets. Later, presuming the toilet was in the same corridor as the changing rooms, I entered via the tunnel only to find myself in a changing room. I beat a hasty retreat.

The other side of the tunnel is 6 or 7 uneven steps of terracing, sadly now fenced off. Decrepit it may be, but I’d have thought a consenting adult might just about manage not to do damage to themself by standing there. Some of it was a bit loose, mind you. At the far end a couple of kids hung off a tree behind the goal but outside the stadium itself. Perhaps they’re the same kids later trying to climb another tree, as the ball nestled in its upper reaches. ‘Can I have your shirt after the game?’ one shouted to the keeper. I think both kids (and their friends) could’ve fitted in it. The Annfield keeper made the game for me.

Corinthians go ahead from a penalty. The defender has gone straight through the back of the player before making contact with the ball. Over an hour later I can still hear the keeper moaning ‘it was never a penalty.’ Upon the decision having been made, the keeper holds onto the ball, before the ref eventually tells him to part with it, so he nonchalantly kicks it past the taker. The (young) ref obviously doesn’t want to yellow card him, so lets it go. 0-1.

Second half, the keeper has an early spat with the Corinthians’ physio, who has had the temerity to walk behind his net. He stares him out before giving him verbals. Weird. (There’s a game on at the other end.) Then the keeper spills an easy cross for a tap-in. 0-2. ‘Fuckin’ Elvis Costello in goal’ the physio creases himself, though I don’t get the reference. Isn’t Elvis Costello a singer? A singer who looks nothing like the Annfield keeper. Is it a comedic reference to Abbot and Costello? Was Costello’s forename ‘Elvis’?

Half-time does nothing to calm this keeper down. After criticism from a teammate, he’s like ‘and what the f*** are you doing?’ and ‘there’s no point in booting it up, it comes straight back’ (he may have a point there). Then he safely catches a throughball, but the centre forward crashes into him. He’s up, obviously wanting a fight, but the forward, possibly realising size and anger are not on his side, collapses, holding his face. He must be mistaking the Wearside League for the Premiership. There are calls for the player to be sent off (‘that’s 2 yellows referee, one for the foul, one for the rolling around’). I get that, but by my reckoning, the keeper should be on 4 yellows by now. After consultation with the linesman (which seems to be this ref’s get-out clause) a pair of yellows are brandished to the keeper and centre forward. A sensible resolution.

Corinthians nick a late 3rd, a crashing finish from 20 yards. More comments from the keeper, and one or two locals complain about the ref (their ire not helped by a disallowed goal in 1st half injury time, but mainly now at what they see as inconsistency in how the ref is treating injured players). Personally, I thought the ref had a decent game and did his best to keep 22 players on the pitch. There were some feisty challenges, one player carried off and another limped off. But all’s fair in love and football. It’s handshakes all round at the final whistle, in the dusky gloom of north County Durham.

The Damage:
£3 ent
£1.50 tea and Snickers
= £4.50