Hampton and Richmond Borough 3-1 Truro City, Wednesday 2nd May 2018

Hampton and Richmond Borough 3-1 Truro City, AET, National League South play-off (att. 922)

Welcome to ....

With the season nearly over, now’s the time to be visiting them there non-league sides. No Football League / Premiership to see (or very little) and the non-leagues over with save for the play-offs. So you get to visit somewhere interesting and still have a crowd. Tonite, it’s a Conference South play-off between Hampton and Richmond Borough FC and Truro City. An unfortunate draw for Truro, given there can’t be many longer trips at this level, and they’d only played their league game at the same venue 4 days before. A nightmare for the away fans too, as trains wouldn’t get you back till the next day and how extortionate would the fares be anyway? So I presume the 40 or so away fans either came by coach, car, or were west country exiles living in London.

The Big Match.

At this level the play-offs have one thing right; semi-finals are one leg and the team higher up the league have home advantage, a reward for the efforts of the previous 42 games. However, to increase the palaver, it’s 4th v 7th, 5th v 6th, the winners away to 3rd and 2nd respectively. I’m not sure I agree with a team in 7th being able to gain promotion through the play-off ‘lottery’, though I’spose it keeps half the division’s hopes up till the end.

The journey from Peckham was easy enough, one hour and one change (Clapham Junction). The ‘Beveree Stadium’ was walkable from Hampton station, and while I do enjoy living in the inner city, it made a pleasant change to walk past an actual village green. I also passed a couple of watering holes, but time was tight, I had a match to get to.

The teams raring to go.

The stadium was maybe a ten minute walk. Turn left out the station and keep going. The Beveree itself is a proper charmer, more stands than the old Manor Ground, Oxford. There was a covered terrace down one side, which finished abruptly on the halfway line, to be replaced by a small seated stand. Behind the far goal was a tiny end, with some cover, while the long side also had a cover 20 yards or so long, otherwise was mainly where some scaffolding supported the cameraman. Then, behind the goal you enter the stadium at, there’s a small cantilevered stand offering excellent views right behind the goal, with a small terrace next to it, in front of some kind of pavilion, a building housing the changing rooms downstairs and a viewing gallery above. Presumably this is where Hampton’s ‘prawn sandwich brigade’ hang out. I’ve heard it referred to as the ‘eyrie’ (and you’d understand why if you saw it).

The players emerge...while the eagle-eyed look down from the 'eyrie'.

The ground was busy, but not overly so. The crowd of 922 was larger than average, but possibly hampered by the live showing on BT of the Champions (and runners up, and runners up runners up…etc) League semi-final between Roma and Liverpool. I bought my match programme and sniffed out where to buy a beer. I wasn’t going to wait in a queue THAT long, so took my position on the terrace and took a few snaps.

1st half, I stood on the terrace.

The previous Saturday’s match had ended all-square, one-all, and this match was very even for the most part too. Truro took the lead when a cross was deflected in off the Hampton left back and captain…though it was later credited to a Truro player. My eyesight, or politeness? Or my poor memory? Either way, it put the away fans in good voice, ‘T-R-U-RO-OH’ being sung to the tune of ‘D.I.S.C.O.’

There must be easier ways to light a pitch...

Hampton equalised just after the half hour mark when a shot was blocked and fell to a forward to score 1st time, neat finish, which was great cos it legitimised chants ‘Beavers! Beavers!’ (it’s their nickname). Later, I heard a couple of chants ‘ooh to…ooh to be…ooh to be a BEAVER!’ to that chant by the Goon(er)s. Otherwise, there wasn’t much in the way of chanting beyond the visitors efforts. My favourite bit was a home fan asking his own captain ‘Are you going to blame the referee for THAT?’ after he’d sliced the ball out. I could tell why he was captain; he wouldn’t stop chuntering (mainly to the ref). Concentrate on your own game, sunbeam.

Small but perfectly formed...on the camera-stand side.

The second half forged plenty of half chances, but no goals. I was dreading this. What time were the last trains to London? I had time. Good. I also had time for a 2nd beer (I’d gone in the social club earlier and it was nice to see an efficient and quick serving system). A separate food queue was still too long (though I nabbed the last burger of the night on the way out…) I timed my beer nice in the 1st half too, seeing Milner’s comedy OG for Liverpool (for Roma?) on the big screen, while not missing any goals in this match.

The mish-mash of stands down one side.

Anyway, with penalties to look forward to, Hampton went and ruined it all by scoring two (both from the sub) in extra time, the second on the break as Truro piled men forward in search of an equaliser. An entertaining game had seen the Beavers triumph. Now who would take up the supporters’ club bloke’s offer ‘anyone for the coach to Chelmsford? Names here please.’

The Damage:
£12 ent
£4 Cobra (x2)
£0.90 peanuts
£2.50 prog
£3 burger
= £26.40

The Tunes:
Fabric 19 (Andy Weatherall)
Fabric 84 (Mathew Jonson)
All Melody (Nils Frahm)

side panorama...and that's not sunlight, it's floodlights.

Panorama from the stand behind the goal.

The view from the terrace.

A busy main stand.

Welcome to....(II)

The cameraman's 'stand'

Looking towards the eyrie.

The view from behind the goal.

Nevermind the corner flag...WTF is that hole?

That's me!

BFC 2-0 Brentford, Saturday 28th April 2018

‘Sees loads of Spanish lads.  Just goes to their room, does the business and leaves.  Most of ‘em good looking lads an’ all.’

For the final time this season...

I have no idea what happened on Satdy. No, I don’t mean  what happened was so unpredictable, so beyond belief (though it was) that I don’t know how it happened.  No, I was just so out of my tree the match spun by in the blink of an eye and I understood little of what went on.  The effects of alcohol. Having half a dozen pints pre-match (including a couple on the train), does nothing for the power of my memory, but I’ll give it a go.

The view from the East Upper.

Got to the Old Number 7.  Packed with Brentford, they’d done their homework on the finest hostelry in Barnsley.  Conversation revolved around our chances of staying up (nil) and telling Brentford not to worry about sending us down: it’s not their fault.  Had my photo taken with some of their lads, me looking suitably miserable to reflect the impending doom.

The West Stand v Brentford.

Had fish and chips. Marvellous.  Double thumbs up to Gary’s Fisheries.  Met up with my dad’s friend Diane and decided to go and sit upstairs with her.  Best view in the ground.  Handy when drunk.  Apparently Brentford had the better of the earlier exchanges.  All I’d say was we looked confident and strode up the pitch on a break.  Kiefer is on his own, wide left.  I could swear he even looked up, before delivering the ball in to no-one.  Thankfully, he’s yet to master the control of his own feet and the ball sails in at the far post, over the keeper.  ONE-NIL!

The Bees.

As I said, the rest of the game goes by in a blur. All I remember is how confident I was that we would not f*** this up.  Essence of Walsall away the other year, when I KNEW we’d hit that late winner.  Brentford simply looked so bad. Or were we amazing? Who knows?  I know Brentford looked nothing like a team chasing a play-off spot.  They looked more like us, after we’re safe.  We ran the second half.  McBurnie makes it two from a corner.  I thought the ball had been cleared, no idea how….but Ollie was off celebrating, the ball was cleared from behind the line.  Party time!

Fans and players celebrate the 2nd.

Thereafter, we had this bloke called Kiefer who endeavoured to keep the score down by missing simple chances.  One, if only he wasn’t there to tap in an open goal rebound, Potts was.  Shoulda, coulda, been 4 or 5 nil.  WTF happened????

Onwards and upwards!

I really am not best qualified to give a top 3.  I just remember the only player WITHOUT a claim was the keeper (see 'despatches')

Twitter MOTM: Hammill.  Although I’m a big fan, my first thought upon him being Twitter MOTM was ‘really?’  But hindsight says I have no clue what position Hammill played, nevermind him playing well.

Despatches:
Walton had NOTHING to do all game, save for a long shot straight at him.  I’m not sure whether he simply organises the defence better than Davies/Townsend (that can’t be hard) or whether the outfield were so worried about playing in front of a rookie that they did everything in their power to stop the Bees getting a sniff of goal.

The rest…err…..all played well.  Probably.

Oh, and well done OLLIE MCBURNIE.  Been here 3 months and wins Player of the Year.  Says it all, really.

Home fans celebrate winning a game of football.

In other news, I noticed a queue to renew season tickets after the game.  There wasn’t one of them beforehand!  Pre-match bookies odds on us going down…1/6.  Burton 1/5 and Bolton 2/1.  Now, Burton are 3/10, Bolton 11/17 (!?) and we’re 5/6.  Bloody hell, we’re actually FAVOURITES to stay up. I can feel the wolves at my door now, chasing me down for their tenners should our rescue become complete.  Fingers crossed their leader, Jonesy, will be rewarded for an entire season of optimism / delusion!*

*all we have to do is beat play off chasing Derby away, or hope Bolton fail to beat nothing-to-play-for Forest at home (and that Burton fail at Preston).  It promises to be a tense final day.

After match queue for season tickets.  'Let's wait and see what division we're in.'

Drink du jour: Erdinger on tap in the Old #7, Franziskaner the way up. JD and coke on the train…though I’ve found a bottle of Bacardi in my bag.  Great bants with Brentford on the way home.  Met the same lads who'd been in the pub.  They were keen to show me the pre-match photo of me/us.  Not a modicum of bitterness in any of them, just an obsession that we could send Brum down (16/1 if you fancy it), antipathy based on them nicking 3 Bees players.  We know that feeling…

Away: was it about 1400? I can’t remember what the announcer said.  The state I was in….

The Damage:
£28 train
£3 programme
£1 calendar
= £28

The Tunes:
Con Todo El Mundo (Khruangbin)
Countdown 1992-1983 (Pulp)

The Ponty v Brentford.

Hamburger SV 1-0 SC Freiburg, Saturday 21st April 2018

Hamburger SV 1-0 SC Freiburg, Bundesliga (att. 54,847)

Welcome to ...

I’ve been aiming to visit Hamburger SV for a while and I’d decided I MUST see them while they are in the Bundesliga.  After all, they’re the only side never to have been relegated from the top division, and don’t they like to crow about it, having a digital clock in the north west corner commemorating how long they have served in the Bundesliga – to the second.  Former champions of Europe, nevermind Germany, I’ve been following Hamburger’s efforts to get relegated for several years.  The last 5 years have been one inexorable struggle whereby every year (seemingly) a late run, or a relegation play-off, saves them.  They’d turned into a German Aston Villa, simply existing, hanging around like a bad smell, depriving some other team who might do something, a place at the top table.

The clock.

However, finally…finally, this appears to be their year, the season they finally…finally…get relegated.  With 4 matches to go they’re 8 points off 3^rd (and 4^th and 5^th) off bottom.  3^rd off bottom and they have the reprieve of another relegation play-off.  And who’re today’s visitors?  Why, it’s 3^rd off bottom Freiburg.  With a keen eye on the table, I’d hoped this would be Freiburg’s chance to deliver the coup de grace, the final shot.  However, this couldn’t be, as 5^th off bottom Wolfsburg had been beaten the night before.  So, a Hamburger victory and the dream would live on.

Inside the Volkparkstadion.

The stadium was easy to get to, a S-bahn (train) to Stellingen.  I was staying in St. Pauli, so there was a direct service from Reeperbahn station.  Once at Stellingen, it’s a 20 minute walk, mainly through forest and around a hill.  Not quite the Waldstadion, Frankfurt, as there were great views of some industrial park or other, but pleasant enough, pedestrianised.  With my partner needing the toilet, we were keen to get inside, so it was blow when I wasn’t allowed in because of my small bag.  We were directed to put it inside a container (the same thing happens at Dortmund…and Hallescher) but the container was full.  We ended up doing a lap of the stadium, to no avail.  There wasn’t another container.  Having considered the options, I took the stuff out of my bag (a newspaper), folded it up, and put it in my partner’s handbag.  Brilliant, we were in!

The crowd outside Stellingen.

By now, kick-off time was approaching.  Considering this was all my idea, I thought I’d better get the beer and wurst in, which meant missing the teams coming out, but whatthehell?  I heard the music leading up to the club’s anthem.  If you can imagine the theme to The Third Man, played on some kind of acoustic guitar, getting faster and faster.  It was unique, I’ll say that.

We were in the upper tier, behind the goal opposite the ultras.  I’d bought them on HSV’s website several weeks earlier.  Say what I like about wanting them to lose, these were the most spacious seats I’ve ever had at a stadium, plenty of room for folk to get past even if you were sat down.  Heaven compared to being jammed in at Old Trafford.  If you like the full sitting down in huge megastadium experience, this is well worth a visit, though for sheer passion and enjoyment, you're better off on the terraces of St. Pauli.

The Hamburger SV ultras.

It was an exciting game too.  Both sides had chances in the 1^st half, though Freiburg can kick themselves for not putting the game to bed, missing several gilt-edged opportunities, including one bizarre scramble where they had 3 or 4 shots. Needless to say, these things come back to bite you, and in the second half, Lewis Holtby (former Spurs reserve) slotted home the winner to the delight of over 50,000 Hamburgers.  Indeed, he’d been the stand-out performer for the red shorts, not just in the way he played, but in the way he was chief cheerleader, constantly cajoling the supporters into making some noise. He certainly hasn’t given up the cause and the fans were up for it, a cacophony of sound throughout.  Can HSV do the unthinkable and survive AGAIN?  I'm almost hoping they do.  Almost.

The Damage (for 2):

€26 ent (x2)

€5 delivery to England

= €57

I can’t remember how much the beer and sausages were, probably around €3-€3.50 each.

Volksparkstadion panorama.

Collecting the empties...

1st view of stadium.

HSV offices next door.

Where's my entrance?

Spot the ball.

The net, embossed with club badge.

The Freiburg fans (in the corner).

The exec area and behind.

WTF?  Hamburger SV mascot.

Christian Streich on the Freiburg bench.  Or not on it.

 

Full-time.

The ultras celebrate.

Training pitches behind the stadium.

BFC 2-2 Bolton Wanderers, Saturday 14th April 2018

‘The worst 6 teams I’ve seen this season are Barnsley’

On such small details do entire season’s cling….It is the 82^nd minute.  Barnsley are leading fellow relegation rivals Bolton Wanderers 1-0.  Not a comfortable lead, by any means, but there’s a sense we’ve seen off the worst of it and are looking good for the win.  OK, the Trotters may have a corner, but we’ve seen off all their other ones, so why worry?  The ball comes over, it’s headed on, but before anyone gets to it, the ref has blown.  ‘Oh, that’s alright then’ I think, as I can only presume he’s given us a free kick.  But no!  It’s a penalty to Bolton.  I have no idea where the ref’s got that one from, but I can only presume (again) that he has a much better view, and wouldn’t give anything if less than certain.  Le Fondre bangs the ball down the middle while Davies dives left.  

I have since seen the ‘penalty’ 5 times on television (make that 10; I’ve just watched it 5 more times on youtube).  I don’t see anything in it.  Their player falls down, to be sure, but I don’t see what Moncur, or anyone else, has done to him.  If it’s Moncur, it must be the ‘hand of God’.  Certainly, the omnipotent one wasn’t doing us any favours.  Of course, I wouldn’t mind if it was a level playing field (not literally, I like the slight slope at Oakwell) but the ref has already ignored a blatant penalty for us at 1-0 when Kiefer Moore, favourite to get to a front post cross, is completely barged over and misses it.  I honestly don’t know how the ref saw that any other way, but I can accept it.  What is difficult to accept is giving Bolton a softer one.  And I’m only talking about two decisions; the other Londontykes can list an armful of inept ‘decisions’ (and did, on the journey home).

Moore had earlier been booked (presumably for ‘persistent misconduct’). Well, it was back to the good old days, as a big, bad centre forward took on a big bad centre half, and the ref gave a free kick pretty much everytime the ball reached them, tossing a coin before deciding which way he’d give it.  Clueless.  As for how McBurnie’s shirt stayed on his torso…let’s just say they’re well made, given the amount of pulling of it which went on (unnoticed).  Mind, the ref also missed a sly elbow in the face from McBurnie (revenge for vice versa) so it’s fair to say the ref had a….mixed game.  If we had VAR we’d still be at Oakwell now.

We’d gone ahead in the first half.  Alnwick (Remember him? ‘Alnwick.  He makes me panic.’) fumbles a corner (shades of Davies and/or Townsend) and McBurnie turns a guy on the back post before having his shot cleared off the line and rebound blocked.  The ball runs loose and it’s that man GARDNER again, 2^nd week in a row, hammering it into the roof of the net from 12 yards.
Chances either side are later missed, before THAT pen.  We’ve thrown it away.  From probably staying up, to probably relegated in a second.  3 mins later we’ve advanced to ‘certainly relegated’ as Bolton nick a 2^nd.  Our heads have clearly gone down and the defence are panicking.  Yiadom beats his own keeper to the ball and the loose ball falls to them to shoot in.  Either Davies has to put a name on it, or Yiadom has to bloody listen.  I don’t know what stunned us more; their penalty award or this.
However, we seem to be made of sterner stuff this last fortnight, as, instead of withering and dying, we decide to PUT UP A FIGHT.  We pile men forward and in injury time, get a corner.  Hammill (I think) curls it in, Moore gets the flick on, and it’s that man MCBURNNNNNNIE heading in from close range.  We have staved off relegation for another week.  Thinking of last week’s late shenanighans against the Blunts, my mate Shaka Hislop comments ‘it’s like de ja vous all over again’. 

Celebrating the opener.

*** Gardner.  What I mainly liked, apart from his goal (obvs), was his ability and willingness to track back and chase.  The amount of Bolton counter-attacks which Gardner dealt with were…numerous.  Twitter MOTM.
** McBurnie.  Ohhhhhh Ollie McBurnie.  Our only hope does it again.  If he does it another 4 times we met yet stay up.  Somehow.  I can watch him all day, the way he ungracefully skins the opposition despite no obvious skill or pace.  And everyone loves an ungainly footballer, eh Casper?

* Moore.  Held a ball up, led line well, took s*** from defenders (and the ref), set up the equaliser…coulda, woulda, shouda had a penalty.

Londontykes' MOTM:  1. Gardner  2. McBurnie  3. Moore

Despatches:

Did I mention the ref had an interesting game?  A season is 46 matches, but, I’m sorry, luck does NOT even itself out over a season.  Not when you’re 2 points behind your rivals with 5 to play.  Finally, finally, we are starting to show something, but we need them points.  The £60 worth of betting man in me still says we’re going down.  But all 4 of our last games are winnable in their own way.  

This is difficult, given it’s 3 days later.  Yiadom was poor, though still cleared one off the line. Fryers I don’t remember, which was an improvement on the week before, when I still can.  Lindsay and Jackson were solid (am I repeating myself?), then Jackson went off at half time for Pinnock.  Like for like. Moncur looked confident on the ball, though without the killer pass, while Hammill worked hard and got the odd cross over.  Potts was up and down the pitch.  I can’t remember Davies having much to do, apart from picking the proverbial couple of goals out of the net.

Onwards and upwards!  BELIEVE!

Away: c2200.  

The Damage:
£28 train
= £28

The Tunes:
Mixed Up (The Cure)
Mogwai Young Team (Mogwai)