Spennymoor Town 1-3 Darlington, Tuesday 20th December 2022

Spennymoor Town 1-3 Darlington, FA Trophy 3rd Round, The Brewery Field, att. 1,005

One advantage of the recent freeze is that Satdy’s big FA Trophy derby game (big by the standards of County Durham) was postponed, allowing me to come to the re-arranged fixture the following post-thaw Tuesday. Maybe Kev would be up from Ashton? Yes, he was, looking after his ma. Would Joe be out? No, alternative ‘duties’. What is it with these people, prioritising family at Christmas time?

My first mission was to bag a ticket. For such a high profile fixture, there’d be no tickets on the day, a sign of the festering ill-feeling between these two sides since Darlo’s reformation in the Northern League. 3 promotions later, you’d think both sides would be in a happier place. Durham Constabulary were here in double figures tonite (ok, I counted ten). Thus, inbetween ‘duties’ of my own (dropping stuff off at the charity shop, buying porridge at Asda) I called in at the social club within the Brewery Field to purchase my ticket. ‘Do you have any proof of address?’ Eh? ‘No……well, I do, I have my driver’s licence, which shows my previous address in London. But you can test me on the streets of Ferryhill (next door to Spenny). Not Spenny though, I don’t know Spenny too well.’ ‘’Oh, ok. Just checking you’re not a Darlo fan.’ I’d have thought they’d be grateful for the custom either way.

I parked up at the back of the town hall and enjoyed a walk to the ground. There were few people in the (still cold) streets. Would there be anybody at the ground? Although 20 minutes early, it seemed most fans were already in, certainly in the away ‘end’, an open terrace which runs the length of the far touchline, interrupted by a gantry for the TV camera. Programme purchased, I nipped into the social club for a quick beer. Alongside the drudge of Carling and Coors they had some craft ales in cans. I’ll take one. Well, it was that or WKD Blue mixed with Caffreys, a round of which was being purchased at the adjacent till.

Wolfing my drink down while watching a bit of the darts on the big screen, I ventured out to find a spot. Behind the goal is a small covered terrace, with a propped roof. I figured it’d be nice and cosy in there, and it was till a young lad started talking to me in a broad Yorkshire accent. Spenny fell behind to two early goals and were, to all intent, out of it. My new mate was slating them good and proper. ‘They don’t care. There’s no passion. They’re not trying.’ Turned out he was one of their latest signings, albeit cup-tied tonite. ‘I’d have smashed him there’ he cheerfully pointed out as Darlo forward Hazel turned the defender before finding the opposite corner for the 2nd. Anyway, I hope this new lad is as good as he thinks he is. He’s certainly not short of confidence, for a player sent out on loan.

The first goal came from a half volleyed scoop over the top of the cumbersome centre half and midfielder Lambert got there ahead of the defender to lift it over the keeper. Quality ball, quality finish. So obviously a row broke out to my life over whose fault it was. It’s ok saying the keeper was in no-mans land, but when the defender should’ve been favourite for the ball and came second…..well. The second was as sweet a move as you’re likely to see, as Darlo passed their way through Spenny, starting from their own half, before the ball was driven home from the edge of the box. No wonder the players milked the celebrations, incurring the ire of the home fans. 14 minutes in and the game looked as good as over. Darlington were different class, not that my mate agreed. ‘But there’s a reason they’re top of the league and Spenny are 19th’ I told him.

By half an hour in, the game was up. This time it did look a comedy of errors. A deflected shot drops to the edge of the area, where the keeper runs out to his favourite position (no-man’s land). Only this time the defender gets a leg to it first, looping the ball to the left of the box where Hazel volleys a bobbler towards goal which a defender hoofs into the roof of the net. We are 29 minutes in and local honours are decided. It becomes a case of ‘how many?’ until Darlo take the foot off the gas second half and allow a consolation, the striker nicking ahead of a defender and toe poking it past a wrong-footed keeper.

By now I’m chatting to a Boro fan whose been dragged along by his young son. ‘We have Wigan at home, then Blackburn away on the 29th’. ‘Wrong way round’ interjects another fan. ‘No it isn’t.’ ‘Yes it is, I know, I’ve got tickets.’ Turns out our interloper is a Sunderland fan and they’re both right. I ask the latter where Spenny got this Ramshaw from, up front. ‘He’s always been here. Been here years. He’s shite.’ Ten seconds later he’s named MOTM. He WAS shite, mind. One goal in 20 this season.

The Damage:
£15 ent
£2.50 programme
£3.80 can of wheat beer (440ml)
= £21.30

The Tunes:
Octopus (Bees)

BFC 2-0 Burton Albion, Saturday 17th December 2022

‘Please show your appreciation for James Norwood.’ ‘Get off.’

Work begins apace on the pedestrian rail bridge...4 years after they closed the level crossing.

‘Please show your appreciation for James Norwood.’ ‘Get off.’
It’s over a month since I’ve seen the Super Reds and after yesterday, I can’t say I’ve missed it. Without a car for a month, I’ve sat in the warmth of my living room watching a World Cup. Yesterday, I was cold, bored and willing the game to end. And we were WINNING. Christ knows how miserable our half time quartet of me, Reedy, Nozzer and Slacki would’ve been had Devante Cole not put us ahead with a deft flick from Matty Wolfe’s right wing cross. Mind, ‘I’m alright Jack’ Slack had the comfort of one of his advent calendar malt whiskies…ba5tard.

The game was flat from start to finish. Even in the morgue that is Oakwell, the atmosphere was dead. It can’t have helped that opponents Burton didn’t bring anybody. 172 in the away end? Not that I saw. First team this season not to tell us Barnsley is a sh*thole. The Ponty meantime was half empty. Maybe our ‘yoof’ were in town, drinking. It is Christmas, after all.

Burton were/are awful. With minimum fuss we absolutely dominated the game without taking advantage of numerous counter-attacks in the second half, as Burton pushed up. My favourite failure was a 3 on 2, with Cole in possession. Did he deliberately play the ball slightly behind sub Jalo, so the latter would have to pass it back? Or is he simply not good enough? I think I can confidently say it’s the latter with Cole….and I’ll still give him MOTM. He kept the ball well, got his head down, and, crucially, scored 2 goals.

The opener I’ve alluded to already. With all the time in the world Cole elected to go for a fancy flick which dribbled in. He could have simply stopped the ball and put it wherever he liked, as defenders ran hither and thither. Burton were all over the place. His second, after 73 minutes, killed the game off and alleviated the nagging feeling that however woeful Burton were, the Super Reds are capable of conceding an equaliser to anyone. Cadden beat his man in wonderful fashion down the left, putting the ball past him and running around his opposite side, before putting it on a plate for Cole, 4 yards out. Can we go home now?

Onwards and upwards!

*** Cole. Led the line well enough and bagged 2 tap-ins.
** Connell. Consistently winning the ball and setting off counter-attacks.
* Mads. Immense. Of all the players we can’t afford to lose this January….

Official MOTM: Cole

Londontykes’ MOTM: 1. Cole 2. Connell 3. Andersen

Despatches:
Rumours of the demise of our players’ health appear greatly exaggerated. True, there was no Benson, or Edwards, or goal machine Phillips (who I’ve never seen score). But we had Matty Wolfe back after a 4 month lay-off and it was great to see the forgotten man return. His highlight (aside from setting up the opener) was carrying the ball 50 yards before it was laid off for Kane to weakly hit at the keeper, despite having enough time to control it and pick his spot/cross it. He also had a bizarre decision go against him on the right wing as the full back slipped with Matty a good 2 yards away. Obviously a free kick, then. How else would a Barnsley player be clean through out wide?

Kane kept things moving in midfield, while the defence was solid, despite the return of Cundy. I thought Jordan Williams was quiet though, lacking the usual runs down the right. My main remembrance of Kitching was him missing an easy goalscoring chance early on, heading tamely at the keeper from a corner. Up top meantime, I spent the match wondering what Norwood brings to this team (I’d rather have kept Big Vic – and his Burton goals) but if you see our first goal, Norwood sets up the counter with a sublime headed flick. (That was it, mind you.) Then, with the game won, Duff chucked on Jalo in his place before hauling off Cole and denying him his one and only chance at a Reds hattrick. (Feel free to save that comment and shove it in my face when he does….ha ha haaaaaaaaa….not a chance.)

Drink du jour: Hoppy Botanist rhubarb crumble and custard pale ale. Not recommended. (I don’t know what I hoped for; it tasted like it said on the tin.)

Away: 172. Allegedly.

Today’s take home: Dare to dream.

The Damage:
c.£30 travel
= c.£30

The Tunes:
BBC5Live phone in. (Chris Sutton saying he’d rather stick pins in his eyes than manage Rangers.)

Rangers 3-2 Hibernian, Thursday 15th December 2022

Rangers 3-2 Hibernian, Scottish Premiership, Ibrox, att. 48,671

I’ve not seen a game in a month, a mix of no car, the cold….and a warm living room for the ‘Human Rights World Cup’ in Qatar. So, with the DVLA finally giving me permission to get the car back on the road, what does one do but peruse the fixtures? And there it is, a Thursday nite in Glasgow. No World Cup fixtures this evening and a Rangers home game where there’s actually tickets available (albeit singles only). I’m inbetween employ, so why not stay over? I don’t really fancy driving there and back in the day, do I? And a drink would be nice.

It’s just over 3 hours drive from my County Durham base. My plan is to park up near Ibrox, take a few pics, then get on the subway and check-in at the Glasgow Youth Hostel. The plan works a treat, and included the bonus of walking through a snowy and relatively deserted Kelvingrove Park. Beautiful, as is the hostel. How’ve I never set foot in Kelvingrove Park before? An oasis in this dreich place.

I head back to Ibrox via dinner and Leffe in the Wetherspoons on Sauchiehall Street. I make no apologies for my lack of standards. Besides, there didn’t seem much up by the ground, the Louden Bar outside Ibrox station not looking welcoming at all. I’d earlier bought a couple of pin badges. Where else could I get a pin of the stand I’m in!? Turns out I got the wrong stand, so I went back for a swap, being in the Copland Stand, not the Broomloan. I went lower tier, and if I’ve learnt anything about Scottish football this season, it’s the overpriced nature of it. £34. Still, you only do these things once.

After admiring the grandeur of the historically listed main stand facade, I walked round to the Copland. Union Jacks adorned the gates inbetween, in homage to monarchs both recently deceased and appointed (anointed?). This is not something I’m used to in little old England (I’m not a regular at the tennis at Wimbledon), but obviously there’s a few ‘issues’ in this neck of the woods. Souvenir stalls further offered me ‘No surrender’ badges as well as an array of flags celebrating our armed forces and/or monarchy.

Inside the ground is, as you would expect, very smart. 3 two-tier stands, with the corners filled in and giant video screens, handy for showing highlights, pre-match (strangely, they didn’t show their 1-7 Champions League spanking to Liverpoo). A long way from the old Ibrox, massive terraces, oval ends, and an almighty record attendance of 118,000. These days, blank spaces behind the Copland and Broomloan stands show the potential for greater development, especially now Rangers play regularly in front of sell-out crowds. The 4th side is the Bill Struth Main Stand, with its historically listed façade. Inside, a 3rd tier has tastefully been added so as not to intrude upon the original Archibald Leitch features.

Tonite the visitors are Hibernian, 8th or summink in the Scottish Premiership. Whilst ostensibly being neutral, I have an interest in the game. Rangers include former Barnsley loanee Ryan Kent, a winger so fast he could only run in a straight line, while Hibs are managed by ‘Little’ Lee Johnson, the only manager I know to have avoided the sack despite losing 8 games in a row, twice (Barnsley and Bristol City). I have yet to come across a manager who talks such a good game but who delivers so little. The Boris Johnson of football management. (Maybe they’re related?)

Tonite is the dawn of a(nother) new era, as Michael Beale takes over for his first game. A month ago, he was pledging loyalty to QPR having turned down Wolves. But alma mater Rangers come knocking (and, perhaps crucially, QPR have been losing ever since) and he’s off. He was Gerrard’s assistant as Rangers won their 55th title. (55th? Since they’ve gone out of business and forced to re-form, wasn’t this their first? Isn’t it a completely different legal entity?)

He receives quite the welcome too, as the Union Bears have organised a massive tifo. It looks amazing, though by the second half, many fans have liberated the plastic vests they were given. Please tell me they’re biodegradable…(well, I suppose everything is if you wait long enough). Pyros are lit and smoke covers the pitch. Meantime, in England, we do all we can to minimise the atmosphere by banning such things. At least we’ve banned ‘Simply the Best’ from being played on PA systems up and down Albion. Rangers walk out to this and I am instantly transported to Roker Park, circa 1989.

The match is a thriller. Or at least it is for an hour. Early on, Rangers 40 year old keeper MacGregor tips one over and the resultant corner sees an unmarked Porteous head in. With Rangers red favourites, I find myself pulling for the underdog. Go Hibs! Also, there’s lots of moaning around me (this is the EIGHTH minute!) and the 2 little kids in front of me can’t sit down. At least not for any length of time. The lead lasts 7 minutes, as Sakala drills it in from 8 yards. Here we go. However, I have not even sat down from the celebrations when Nisbet goes clear to bang into the roof of the net. There is carnage in the away end, while I find myself alone, laughing my head off. Go Hibs! So much for Rangers’ motto: ‘Ready’. The moaning becomes even more vocal, as Rangers dominate possession, but Hibs look dangerous on the counter.

At half-time I move seats, a propitious move which takes those bloody kids out of my eyeline and provides the chance to chat rubbish with a couple of brothers who see my Barnsley hat and engage. Would I like a swig of the 25 year old Macallan whisky they have decanted into a Co-op water bottle? After initial misgivings (I’m not a big whiskey lover) I relent. It was quite the most beautiful thing I’ve tasted in forever. (A trip into a ‘The World of Whiskey’ – or whatever it’s called – the next day suggests a potential price tag of over two grand a bottle. Well, it WAS purloined from the wedding of the son of a Rangers director, so possible…

I ask about Kent. Every time I catch a bit of highlights, he’s tearing up that Scottish league (shows how bad it is!) but my new friends suggest this not the case. ‘He’s been ‘s*** all season’ came the judgement, though it was acknowledged that tonite was his best this season. There was a little more thought given to my other question: ‘Is it not boring supporting Rangers? Every home game apart from Celtic being attack v defence?’ Of course, no-one admits it’s boring to support your team, but I’ve seen enough games at Arsenal to see a tedious pattern (one that usually results in constant griping if you’re not winning).

Sadly, the second half resorted to type. Hibs retreated, trying to protect their lead, and couldn’t get out of their half. Rangers consequently bagged two by the hour mark and the game was effectively over. Though I was roused from my stupor by a rendition of ‘Rule Britannia’ (WTF?) and, as I contemplated leaving early in an effort to get the subway, the National Anthem broke out. Later on, my new friends explained this happens EVERY home game in the 89th minute. Really? How come I’ve never heard of this? In the curry house afterwards (them and their mates cunningly go and have beers here, rather than a pub…waiter service and no crowds)…eyebrows are raised when I declare myself a republican. What is heard is that I’m a member of the IRA. No, I say, I don’t believe we should have a king or queen. So that rules out supporting Rangers. As for Celtic….well, I’m not a believer either. Still, everyone took it in good humour and I got out alive (via another whiskey) to walk back the 3 miles home. The subway has long since packed in for the night.

The Damage:
£55.50 travel (£52 petrol, £3.50 subway return)
£34 ent
£3.50 programme
£7 pin badges
£23 accommodation (Glasgow Youth Hostel)
= £133

The Tunes:
Astro Tough (Audiobooks)
The Seduction of Ingmar Bergman (Sparks)
Doubt (Jesus Jones)
Surrender (Chemical Brothers)