Plymouth Argyle 0-3 BFC, Monday 22nd April 2019

‘You ain’t getting a bus from here you clown!’

Welcome....

This was one of the longest days of the season, and all I can say is thank f*** we won.  Having been checking on train prices since January, I never saw anything vaguely affordable for a west country jaunt to Plymouth, so had given up on the idea of going.  Then a conversation with the Two Andies t’other week after Coventry…the carrot of a lift (Reedy saw through that one – no chance!) and a bit of snouting around later, he has something approaching ‘reasonable’.  07:30 out of Paddington, back in London just before midnight, Two Together card at the ready – ours for the unprincely sum of £52!  Christ.  Oh, and work the next day.  I was well and truly fried, Tuesday.

Despite a refurb, the old facade thankfully remains.

I was at Paddington before 6 as well.  Unlike me, I know.  But these climate change protestors (good on ‘em!) had disrupted my bus route, so I had to jump on a tube.  It’s a weird feeling being early for the train.  I don’t like it.  Still, I bumped into Nice Guy Chris, and his wife, Nice Lass Jane, and M&S was open for a hot cross bun stockage (I make no bones about recommending their deluxe hot cross buns, the apple ones especially.  Mmmmmmmm….)

A first spot of the stadium / new roof on the old stand.

So, yes, we were in Plymouth 11ish, and what to do but go for a stroll and hit a seaside pub and have fish, chips and mushy peas in view of the ocean?  When else do we get chance this season?  Sunderland on a Tuesday night?  Course, we turned right at Plymouth Hoe, thereby missing all the other Reds fans down by the Barbican, but hey ho(e).  We strolled to another non-distinct pub for another before walking to the ground, through Home Park itself (if that’s what the giant bit of greenery is called around Plymouth’s Home Park ground).  All very pleasant, save for an emergency dash to the railway station toilet on the way.  As I stood outside the trap, I was this close (puts fingers very close together) to dashing into the ladies.  What does one do when you want someone to hurry up?  Do you SAY something?  (I didn’t; this being Easter, I just found God and prayed.  It worked, kids!)

Look!  The ocean!

Then we won a game of football.  In front of a near sellout crowd (it helps having only 3 stands, the main stand being rebuilt).  In fact, save for the first 5 minutes, we were imperious.  Again.  Then after an unlucky-for-Argyle 13 mins, Jordan Williams put a ball across for Cauley to superb control into his own path on the left and drag the ball into the far corner across the keeper.  What a finish!  Minutes later, Brown just about controls a cross from the left and pokes it home, before Mowatt curls a free kick in before the half hour.  Outstanding, Barnsley.  Outf***ingstanding.  (May I say, Mowatt’s goal came 5 seconds after Reedy commented about Mowatt’s lack of goals from free kicks this season, considering how bedazzling his left foot is meant to be).

Keeping the structure of the old Main Stand - love it!

Thereafter, it was a procession.  Davies did make one excellent save (a one-on-one) halfway through the second half, but otherwise it became the Kiefer show, as our talisman came off the bench and his teammates looked like they were trying everything to get him on the scoresheet.  Bahre put one into his path which was a gimme…so Moore put it wide with his left, while he blazed another one over the bar with his right.  Now, we know Moore has been training with the first team for a while., but it’s a pity shooting doesn’t seem to be amongst it.  Still, ‘lacking match practice’, etc.

Their flag does its rounds, pre-match.

*** Woodrow.  Cauley led the line superbly.  Great movement, holds onto the ball, brings others into play.  Scores.  Who is this Kiefer Moore?
** Mowatt.  Orchestrated midfield.  Again.
* McGeehan.  Between him and Mowatt they have central midfield tied up.  Needs to make sure his lunges connect with the ball though.

Londontykes' MOTM:  1. Woodrow  2. Mowatt 3. McGeehan

Onwards and upwards!

Looking towards the home side.

Despatches:
EVERYONE had a good game, though it’s nice to see Jordan Williams slot into right back so easily in Cavare’s absence.  (Where is Cavare?  Not even on bench was he?)  I felt for Plymouth though.  They match us for a while, then once they conceded, their defence dropped back and ceded midfield dominance to us…thereafter, everywhere the ball was we outnumbered them.  Most dominant game of the season and what a time to do it.
And since I’ve a potential 60 quid coming my way, I’ve become obsessed with the bookies’ odds (cos they’re never wrong, are they?)  What with Portsmouth nicking another tight win at lunchtime (boooo) and Sunderland conceding an injury time equaliser at Posh (celebrated as much as any Reds goal in the away end!) we remain 2^nd faves at 4/9, with Pompey on 4/5 and the Mackems drifting to 6/4.  We have got this nailed…haven’t we???   As any fool knoweth tho, if Pompey keep winning, they go up.  Can they do it at Sunderland next Satdy?  And can we f*** up all our hard work by coming unstuck against midtable Blackpool?  It’s back to the prayer mat for me…

The Dugouts.

Drink du jour: Weihenstephaner

Away: c900.  

The Damage:
£52 train
£24 ent
£3 prog
= £79

The Tunes:
Slowdive (Slowdive)
Until the Hunter (Hope Sandoval and the Warm Inventions)

Home Park panorama

You can't beat a club vehicle.

Outside the home end.

Walking around the ground to the away end.

Cherry pickers parked up for the weekend.

The Main Stand paddock.

The teams meet 'n' greet.

Match action on a beautiful day in Plymouth.

BFC 2-1 Shrewsbury Town, Friday 19th April 2019

‘Na na na na na na na na na na na….We’ve got Kiefer Moore, Kiefer Moore, we’ve got Kiefer Moore’

I love Good Fridays.  Much better than Bad Fridays.  And what can be gooder than watching the Super Reds cruise to victory and keep up the 2018-19 promotion campaign?  Course, the result mattered most and it was far from a cruise, as we crawled over the line against a Shrews side with nothing to play for.  Indeed, were it not for an outstanding performance from keeper Davies, we’d have been staring down the barrel of a 10 gauge shotgun.  Call it poor finishing, but 3 times they ran through to shoot unconvincingly.  But best of all was a a 25 yarder into the top corner which Davies somehow tipped over.  The closer he is to the end of his contract, the better he gets (funny that).

An ice cream van in Barnsley with THAT reg?  Surely no coincidence...

But all this is to ignore the real highlight of the match – the return of Kiefer Moore.  Initially ‘ruled out for the season’ after a clash of heads at Gillingham in February, our talisman has returned to provide the final push.  And what a reception!  On he came after the hour mark, 2-1 up, and the scene was set.  He didn’t score, but the buzz, the excitement…the FEELING.  BELIEVE!!!!  (Oh no, I’ve come over all Jose Morais.)

Everyone's favourite #19 is back!

But it could have been so, so different.  An early burst had the Shrews one-on-one and Davies saved, with Pinniloss on the cover clearing off the line.  Then Mowatt goes up the field and curls one with his RIGHT foot from 20 odd yards.  At the time, I thought it was a bit soft, but having seen it on telly it was a great strike and I did their keeper (and Mowatt) a disservice.  The Shrews equalise a few minutes before half time.  A crossfield ball has Pinnock barged over.  Mystifyingly, there’s no free kick and the loose ball is lashed home from 20 yards.  Great strike, to be fair, but the foul was obvious to all but the ref. 

The East Stand v Shrews.

We went in at half-time one-all, thanks to another Davies save and within 10 mins of the restart we were in front, Jacob Brown being Johnny-on-the-spot.  The Shrews had already missed a simple header at the backpost before Magic Mike (Bahre) jinked into the box and pulled the ball back for Brown to smash into the gap at the near post from close in.  He has a scorer’s instinct, Brown (see also: Walsall away).  Maybe we’ll see him yet play up front, his original position.

Otherwise, the Shrews missed another one-on-one (how many does a team need?) while McGeehan hit the bar following a slick move started on our left.  It might even have been Thiam setting it up.  Or was I dreaming?  Anyway, we got out of jail today.  Bigtime.

Onwards and upwards!

A decent away turnout shoulda been celebrating today.

*** Davies.  Wunderbar! from our German-born goalkeeper.

** Mowatt.  Controlled midfield, if not their breaks.  Official MOTM.

* Pinnock.  Not sure how they had chances when Pinnock never looked under threat.

Londontykes' MOTM: 1. Davies  2. Mowatt  3. Pinnock

Despatches:

No idea how anyone but Davies got MOTM.  Of 9 Londontyke voters, 9 voted Davies.  Just saying.

For a change, I went in the Ponty today, and what a game to choose.  Best (Oakwell) atmosphere of the season?  Probably.  There is just that BELIEF, what with Kiefer back, we’re going up.  Momentum is ours.  As St. Etienne sang…’Nothing Can Stop Us Now’ !!!!!!!!  Also, it was a good chance to have a proper look at the murals painted on the concourse walls.  I see BFC have even added a perspex cover, like it was a Banksy or sumfink.  Very impressive, well done.

Oakwell.  The home of Barnsley St. Peter's.

Drink du jour: JD and Coke.

Away: 594

The Damage:
£35 train
£3 prog
= £38

The Tunes:
Heroes to Zeroes (Beta Band)
Until the Hunter (Hope Sandoval and the Warm Inventions)
I Started Out With Nothing and I Still Got Most of it Left (Seasick Steve)
Barbed Wire Kisses (The Jesus and Mary Chain)

Ponty End panorama.

The East and Corner Stands.

Ref, I can see that shirt tug from here!

The sun's out, there's a spring in everyone's step...

The old Main Stand.

You Reds!

The teams come out, 2nd half.

Errrr...Peckham and London are THAT way!

Burton Albion 3-1 BFC, Saturday 6th April 2019

‘CAN YOU STOP P*SSING ON MY SHOES!?'

Welcome to ....

As a metaphor for what happened in today’s game, you can’t beat being p*ssed on by some old bloke in the toilets after the match.  There I was, minding my own business, concentrating on business in hand, when I could feel the reverberations on my trainers.  It was like a cat purring, but altogether less pleasant.  I had to have words in no uncertain terms and the old goat looked dumbfounded.  Perhaps he was just trying to avoid hitting the walking stick he’d leant against the urinal.  Cheers.

It all started well.

Course, my mood wasn’t brightened by a mix of poor performance and alcohol.  The 20-match unbeaten record was gone, and for all the BFC ‘pressure’ both managers spoke of after the match, I couldn’t remember a chance we’d created.  Even the goal we scored has to go down as an assist from the ref, as no-one in the ground knew where he’d got a penalty from to give us some hope at 2-1 with a few minutes left.  Indeed, rumour in the pub was it was for a mystery handball.  (Apparently it was for a mystery high foot.)  

The teams meet 'n' greet.

We’d never been in the match, conceding after about 5 mins, with Davies parrying a soft shot straight into the path of their striker, for a tap-in.  Then…nothing.  Nothing I can remember.  A couple of their fans in the pub said they were expecting an onslaught after half-time, as we were.  Instead, nothing.  Zilch.  Sweet FA.  My memory is hazy (see earlier; ‘beer’) but aside from a few runs by Cavare, nobody showed in attack.  How many games is it since Thiam played well?  Or scored?  The Enigma (Bahre) was thrown on to no avail, while rumour has it Green wasn’t even in the squad after some kind of bust-up with Stendel.  That’ll help at this stage of the season.

The view from behind the goal.

So, with us camped in their half doing nothing, they broke twice to make it 2-0 and 3-1, swift counter-attacking moves the like of which we’re used to doing ourselves.  Oh well.  Fair play, Burton – you deserved it.  And as for the extra-time of the Checkatrade Trophy tiring Sunderland, they’ve won 3 out of 3, including a midweek match and a last minute winner yesterday.  Portsmouth meantime have won 4 on the spin.  We have lost momentum at exactly the wrong time.  Play-offs here we come!  

Onwards and upwards!

Reds fans in the seats.

*** No-one.  Most of the team were dreadful.
** No-one.  Most?  All but one.   

* Cavare.  Had a few bursts but nowhere to be seen on their goals.

Londontykes' MOTM:  1= Cavare / No-one  3. Mowatt

The view of the penalty...

Despatches:
As it’s not worth talking about the players, let’s rave about an away day in Burton.  Despite having to spend 20 nondescript minutes changing trains at Tamworth, it’s a tremendous away day, full of copious amounts of drinking in two of the best matchday pubs you can have – The Last Heretic and Cooper’s Tavern, serving ales straight from the (wooden) barrel.  One good thing about staying down is we can do all this again next season!

The away end.

Drink du jour: Ale.  Of all descriptions.  And massive bottes of Hoegaarden for the train back.  You Reds!!!!

Away: 1,751 (sold out).

The Damage:
£18 ent
£26 train
= £44

Prog?  None to be seen between getting out of a cab at the away end and entering the away end.  Their loss.

The Tunes:
Loveless (My Bloody Valentine)
Jake Bugg (Jake Bugg)

Pirelli Stadium panorama

The Burton terrace

Nigel Clough, King of Caravans.

Half-time cheerleaders.

The view from the snack shack.

Bromley 2-1 Leyton Orient, Tuesday 2nd April 2019

Bromley 2-1 Leyton Orient, att. 3,047

Welcome to ...

A week ago, I was in the Leyton Orient social club with a mate, getting all excited about all the real ales, as well as the impending game we’d nabbed free tickets for.  He lives up north, but at present spends half the week in London on business, staying at his ma’s in Epping.  So of course he wants any opportunity to be out of the house.  ‘How’d yer fancy going to Bromley?’ he asked, pointing at an ad on the wall.  ‘Yeah, go on then.’  Always best to act without thinking.  On he goes on that there internet and 2 tickets have been purchased, 15 quid each.  No going back now.

Welcome to ....(II)

Cue a week later and it turns out he’s made a slight error.  Not being completely au fait with the ‘burbs, he’s only gone and presumed ‘Bromley’ was that famous East End football team Bromley-by-Bow!  Also, a nice easy journey eastwards to mom’s.  I thought it was strange he was so keen last week.  No great shakes, we work out travel plans and I meet him on the train at Peckham Rye, 20 minutes direct to Bromley South.

The home end.

Unfortunately, the ground is some distance away from the train station.  More than 20 mins, that’s for sure, and we arrange to break up the journey with a 3^rd Londontyke at The Bitter End, some real ale micropub.  Course, it was shut at 6pm, Tues, on a matchday against the league leaders from another part of London.  Do they want business or not?  We went next door, to the Bricklayers.  Now, I’m no connoisseur, but my beer wasn’t great; flat and tasteless.  However, my mate IS (he works in the trade) and declared Shepherd’s Neame not to be the greatest.  None of us finished our beer and as we waved farewell to our mate, the two of us headed to the ground to sample Bromley’s social club.

The view from the Bromley social club.

The social club was a cracker, much better than my beloved Barnsley FC (why do lower league clubs have better social clubs?)  Still had to settle for Birra Moretti though and the choice of Wolves v Man U on the bigscreen, or leave the comfort to watch the match we’d come for.  We headed behind the goal, with the Bromley Boys, as the Orient took the terrace on the far side, or 2 of the 3 pens.
There followed 45 mins of exemplary top of the league football as Bromley were simply outplayed and couldn’t get the ball.  Still, there was an element of luck to Orient’s opener, as the ball cannoned around the box following a corner before it was prodded in, slow motion.  Surely Orient would canter to victory?  That they didn’t was down to a mixture of fortune, the referee and their own complacency.

Match action (Orient fans to the left).

Half time came and we were hungry.  Was it my tightness, or an old fondness for tomato soup (not utilised in 20 odd years) that brought me to choose the soup and bread (2 quid) over a hotdog (three fifty)?  As it was, 4/5 of it tasted of water, before I found a mound of tomato sludge at the bottom of the cup.  No wonder the guy in the refreshment hut told me to give it a stir!  Bleak.

Don't do it...

I was still ‘enjoying’ it as Bromley equalised, early in the second half.  A punt over the top and a Bromley forward cuts across the Orient defender and goes down.  The defender couldn’t have avoided it in a million years.  Penalty AND a sending off (and under the laws of the game, since he wasn’t going for the ball – or anything else for that matter – he had to go).  This was triple jeopardy, nevermind double.  In fact, make that QUADRUPLE.  I’ve since seen it again and the ‘foul’ actually takes place outside the box.  The penalty was gloriously lashed home.  ‘Now THAT boys, is how you take a penalty’, said anyone channelling Brian Glover in Kes. 

WHOOSH!

The yoof in the home end were now becoming quite raucous.  Amongst some old school insults and chants, South London is, apparently, ‘full of t*ts, f*nny and Bromley’.  Which is news to a Peckhamite like me – I thought Bromley was in Kent.  (It doesn’t have a London postcode.)  Another highlight was the number of youth with curly hair.  It’s obviously a ‘thing’ cos there’s no way you get so many together, outside of a ‘boys with curly hair convention’.  My favourite was the fat ginger one, who needed a sitdown after his halftime sustenance.  It can be tiring, eating.

Looking towards the home end.

Anyway, the (Bromley) worm had turned.  They were now on top, as Orient began losing their heads.  The Bromley right winger smashed a shot off the bar from 25 yards, while an innocuous looking fracas on the Orient touchline had 20 players pushing and shoving and the odd Orient fan (I’ve met some odd Orient fans) being led out by stewards.  What got their goat?  Memory doesn’t serve whether they were already losing by then.  I think probably.  A superb goal too, as the Bromley left winger whipped a great ball in and only one player was getting this one, as the centre forward bustled in, leapt, and met the ball sweetly with his head.  The brilliantly named Dean Brill in the Orient goal had no chance.  There was still time for a comedy Bromley miss, as a backpass header was seized upon and trundled wide as the forward fell over.  A great win for the underdogs on their plastic pitch (I had to mention it somewhere).

Look how beautiful that pitch is!  No wonder.

The ground itself is a real treat; a new cantilevered seating stand, holding about 1,400 and including club offices, looks on the verge of being finished behind one goal.  Opposite, was the main home terrace, cosy, with a small roof at the back held up with many a black and white post (club colours) and covering not much more than your average bus shelter.  The terrace to its left appeared to have three ‘pens’ of which 2 were full of away support tonite.  Indeed, over 3,000 were packed in tonite, the biggest league crowd of the season and twice the average.  Mind, nearly half the crowd were Orient.  The 4^th side housed the Main Stand, a small affair running not far either side of the halfway line, with the social club next door.

In amongst the home end.

Despatches:
The beer was £4.10 a pint, but it wasn’t my round.  I did however lose a fiver to my mate, as, at 1-1 and down to 10 men, I bet Orient would still win.  A couple of days later, I was chatting to a mate about the game.  He was originally from Welling and announced that there was no way Bromley were in the National League (perhaps he meant ‘Bromley-by-Bow’).  Anyway, let’s just say I took a tenner off him, so I’m still up on bets!

The Damage:
£15 ent
£2.50 prog
£2 ‘soup and French bread’
= £19.50

The Tunes:
If You’re Feeling Sinister (Belle and Sebastian)
Jah Sees Jah Knows (Misty in Roots)

Turnstiles on the way out.

The edge of the terrace.