It was cold. It was wet. And worst of all, it was at Barnet, some backwatered shithole in North London. Yet this tie was something I was extremely excited about, because it presented to me exactly the kind of experience I have been craving since I began the cup run.
I am a child of the heath and safety generation, an age which roughly began as the terrible events unfolded on an April afternoon in Sheffield in 1989. The consequences of the disaster have changed football stadiums forever in this country, something superbly demonstrated by the stadiummk.
This tie however, gave me a chance to experience life on the terraces for the first time ever. Barnet's stadium is the epitome of the old fashioned football ground, the away terrace is accessed via a long passageway, a couple of seating areas sit uneasily with the open air terraces along the length of the pitch. There is actually a slope. The away terrace hosts one small refreshments 'cupboard'.
After purchasing my meat pie, I decided to perch myself at the back, assuming the further towards the back I was, the better the view I would have. I was wrong. Seconds later I dropped my plastic fork down the other side of the railings and the grim reality of no seating was starting to hit me. I had to spend the rest of the game in a cold terrace up close and far too personal to some idiot mk fans (how funny, I thought, that they can barely muster a 4,000 attendance for a home game, yet when away they suddenly find their voice). Towards the end of the game I had had enough of standing and perched myself on a metal bar running the length of the terrace. Old school indeed.
As for the game, I consider Barnet to be extremely unlucky, on virtue of a spectacularly missed chance in the first half; the front man hitting the ball on the turn and, with nothing but an own goal to aim at, shooting wide from 10 yards. It was clear to all that MK were the better team on the ball though for the majority of the game there was little to speak about; neither team being able to open up the other. Cruel then, that the Dons should score first literally minutes after Barnets wasted chance.
The second half was a great deal more entertaining, as the weather turned colder, darker, and both sets of players seemed to have woken from their first half slumber party. Barnet however seemed unable to break down the solidity of MK's defence, and it wasn't till MK were comfortably 2-0 up that the Bees seriously began to threaten. Getting a goal back late in the second half threatened the prospect of a dramatic comeback, only to be cruelly swept aside by the fluidity of the Dons passing, and at 3-1 it was all over. Thankfully, time to exit a freezing stand and get the hell out of there.
Monday, 12 December 2011
Monday, 14 November 2011
Milton Keynes Dons 6 Nantwich Town 0
The sun was shining brightly as I headed south towards Milton Keynes for this 1st round tie, a hugely momentous occasion for the away side Nantwich Town, who I had encountered in the previous round. Memories of 2 weeks ago were still fresh in my memory as I drove along the A5 all the way to Britain's last 'new city' and possessing a ticket in the away end of the ground, I was full of optimism and anticipation of a cup upset of David v Goliath proportions. It turned out that I wasn't alone, hundreds of Nantwich fans making the journey south for the biggest game in their clubs history, and who could blame them.
The setting for this scene of anticipated giant killing possessed nothing of the traditional beauty of the northern market town. Milton Keynes at best, can be described as a bold attempt to create a socialist paradise in Britain, at worst, an artificial, fake amalgamation of concrete and roundabouts. The Stadiummk effectively symbolises the city's lack of identity and culture. It is undoubtedly huge, with plenty of space around the edge for car parks. There is a nice little walkway from the stadium going to the nearest Asda. Upon gaining entry to the stadium, you find yourself on a sheltered concourse area that spans the length of the stadium, splitting the two tiers in half. The seats are clean, spacious and very comfortable. Every penny has been spent to ensure the comfort, health and safety of the many spectators in the venue. Yet this is where the problems begin.
There are no fans.
The stadium can hold up to 20,000 people, and incredibly, there are plans to use the upper tier to increase capacity to 32,000. Yet on Saturday, the day of the 1st Round of the greatest cup competition on earth, only 4,000 odd fans were in attendance. True, the local authorities are hoping to use the stadium for other events such as music concerts and other sports, which is just as well. There was a shocking lack of atmosphere throughout the entire game. It almost seemed like the home fans were continuing the minutes silence throughout the whole first half.
The Nantwich crowd however, were showing no signs of laxity towards the experience. They were vocal, dressed in absurd clothes and wearing funny hats and genuinely having a good time. In fact, they provided as much entertainment as the game itself.
Nantwich certainly started brightly, and for 10 minutes it actually seemed as if our pre game optimism could realistically be transferred to those on the pitch. MK were always going to be the better team however, and it took them just half an hour to go two goals ahead, both goals coming from some slick passing from midfield, which Nantwich failed to cope with. At half time, I already knew who I would be following in the next round.
The second half brought little respite for the Dabbers, any hopes of a comeback were dramatically dashed by a freekick soon after the restart. From then on it was merely a case of counting down the minutes until the end, though it was heartening to see Nantwich, unburdened by the pressure of being within a chance, actually having a go. The problem was that MK were just too quick and sharp for them, a fact demonstrated by the last two goals as they merely soaked up any Dabber pressure, and calved them open on the counter attack.
It was at this moment that I decided to turn my attentions to what was going on in the stands. Not the MK end of course, they were all asleep, but the lively section of Nantwich fans in front of me behind the goal. I had noticed at various points throughout the game that members of the MK Safety Team had been circling round the group, pointing and wagging various fingers with concerned looks on their faces. At one point, a member of a safety team waded into the crowd, and appeared to have a disagreement with a bloke who to all intents and purposes looked like he had the word 'HOOLIGAN' on his forehead. Another Safety Team member, I don't know his name but shall refer to him as Captain Jobsworth, told a fan several times to stop smoking.
All this was very lighthearted, but things started to get a little more serious as the group of fans, no doubt aggrieved by their teams poor showing, began to take their frustrations out on a certain member of the Safety Team. This guy was the wrong side of chubby, a fact no doubt taken into consideration by the group, who began a superb rendition of "Have You Ever Seen Your Dick", pointing to the guy in question.
This again was quite funny, until two of the fans, including Hooligan Boy I have previously mentioned, incredibly started fighting each other. The Safety Team wasted no time in wading on in there, determined to sniff out the offending imbeciles, and they swiftly hauled them out, one by one amid much raucous laughter and jeering. Though Captain Jobsworth was watching from the sidelines, the real hero of the hour was the fat guy who they had been singing to moments before, grabbing several fans by the throat and literally dragging them out. In all, about ten fans were evicted.
This whole incident lasted merely 10 minutes, yet it was easily the most entertaining period of the 2nd half, though MK had dominated proceedings, it was a shame that their fans had not turned out in droves to make a real atmosphere. For Nantwich and their fans, it had no doubt been a memorable occasion, albeit one that ended with the inevitable conclusion, a 6-0 drubbing. Still, history had been made for them, I am sure they will savour the experience for years to come.
For Milton Keynes, a tie away at Barnet awaits them, and one can only hope that their fans will experience a proper atmosphere there, and maybe pick up some tips.
The setting for this scene of anticipated giant killing possessed nothing of the traditional beauty of the northern market town. Milton Keynes at best, can be described as a bold attempt to create a socialist paradise in Britain, at worst, an artificial, fake amalgamation of concrete and roundabouts. The Stadiummk effectively symbolises the city's lack of identity and culture. It is undoubtedly huge, with plenty of space around the edge for car parks. There is a nice little walkway from the stadium going to the nearest Asda. Upon gaining entry to the stadium, you find yourself on a sheltered concourse area that spans the length of the stadium, splitting the two tiers in half. The seats are clean, spacious and very comfortable. Every penny has been spent to ensure the comfort, health and safety of the many spectators in the venue. Yet this is where the problems begin.
There are no fans.
The stadium can hold up to 20,000 people, and incredibly, there are plans to use the upper tier to increase capacity to 32,000. Yet on Saturday, the day of the 1st Round of the greatest cup competition on earth, only 4,000 odd fans were in attendance. True, the local authorities are hoping to use the stadium for other events such as music concerts and other sports, which is just as well. There was a shocking lack of atmosphere throughout the entire game. It almost seemed like the home fans were continuing the minutes silence throughout the whole first half.
The Nantwich crowd however, were showing no signs of laxity towards the experience. They were vocal, dressed in absurd clothes and wearing funny hats and genuinely having a good time. In fact, they provided as much entertainment as the game itself.
Nantwich certainly started brightly, and for 10 minutes it actually seemed as if our pre game optimism could realistically be transferred to those on the pitch. MK were always going to be the better team however, and it took them just half an hour to go two goals ahead, both goals coming from some slick passing from midfield, which Nantwich failed to cope with. At half time, I already knew who I would be following in the next round.
The second half brought little respite for the Dabbers, any hopes of a comeback were dramatically dashed by a freekick soon after the restart. From then on it was merely a case of counting down the minutes until the end, though it was heartening to see Nantwich, unburdened by the pressure of being within a chance, actually having a go. The problem was that MK were just too quick and sharp for them, a fact demonstrated by the last two goals as they merely soaked up any Dabber pressure, and calved them open on the counter attack.
It was at this moment that I decided to turn my attentions to what was going on in the stands. Not the MK end of course, they were all asleep, but the lively section of Nantwich fans in front of me behind the goal. I had noticed at various points throughout the game that members of the MK Safety Team had been circling round the group, pointing and wagging various fingers with concerned looks on their faces. At one point, a member of a safety team waded into the crowd, and appeared to have a disagreement with a bloke who to all intents and purposes looked like he had the word 'HOOLIGAN' on his forehead. Another Safety Team member, I don't know his name but shall refer to him as Captain Jobsworth, told a fan several times to stop smoking.
All this was very lighthearted, but things started to get a little more serious as the group of fans, no doubt aggrieved by their teams poor showing, began to take their frustrations out on a certain member of the Safety Team. This guy was the wrong side of chubby, a fact no doubt taken into consideration by the group, who began a superb rendition of "Have You Ever Seen Your Dick", pointing to the guy in question.
This again was quite funny, until two of the fans, including Hooligan Boy I have previously mentioned, incredibly started fighting each other. The Safety Team wasted no time in wading on in there, determined to sniff out the offending imbeciles, and they swiftly hauled them out, one by one amid much raucous laughter and jeering. Though Captain Jobsworth was watching from the sidelines, the real hero of the hour was the fat guy who they had been singing to moments before, grabbing several fans by the throat and literally dragging them out. In all, about ten fans were evicted.
This whole incident lasted merely 10 minutes, yet it was easily the most entertaining period of the 2nd half, though MK had dominated proceedings, it was a shame that their fans had not turned out in droves to make a real atmosphere. For Nantwich and their fans, it had no doubt been a memorable occasion, albeit one that ended with the inevitable conclusion, a 6-0 drubbing. Still, history had been made for them, I am sure they will savour the experience for years to come.
For Milton Keynes, a tie away at Barnet awaits them, and one can only hope that their fans will experience a proper atmosphere there, and maybe pick up some tips.
Sunday, 30 October 2011
Nantwich Town 1 Nuneaton Town 0
There can be few finer places to finish the qualifying rounds of the FA Cup than the historic town of Nantwich. Fate had delivered me what I had secretly been hoping for since I began my cup exploits at Boldmere, a trip away from the Midlands, one that would promise a new experience, a new scene, maybe a different style of football.Though for a while I was flirting with the dull prospect of a home tie at Nuneaton, I was glad to be driving up the M6 to Cheshire and I was not disappointed by what I found there. I decided to set off a bit early for this one, not merely to allow for traffic, but I set my sights on taking in all that Nantwich had to offer.
Nantwich today stands aloof from the bigger economic powerhouses of the North West, namely Manchester and Liverpool, and thus retains much of its market town character. The town is mainly associated with two events in English history. It was the scene of a "Great Fire" in 1583, superceded only by London's calamity almost a hundred years later. Even more prominent was the role Nantwich was to play in the battle for power between Parliament and the Royalists during the Civil War. Nantwich was the only town in Cheshire to support Parliament and was the scene of a siege lasting 6 weeks in 1644. Today you can still visit the sight of the battle, and it is reenacted annually.
Back to more important matters, and after sampling some of the local culinary delights it was time to take one's place inside the Weaver Stadium. On asking a local where the best place to stand would be, I was swiftly whisked away through some doors and tunnells, past the officials and into the club shop, where I was given a ticket which allowed me to sit undercover. Nice. It turns out that Nantwich and Nuneaton are fairly matched on the football field, the first half was an entirely cagey affair, with few chances for either side. Nuneaton fans, though few in number were extremely vocal in their support, and it certainly looked like the home side would have a tough task ahead of them.
The referee was certainly not helping matters, dealing his first yellow card of the game just 2 minutes in, and attempting to stop the game at every opportunity. It was cold. It was breezy. And for almost the entire first half, it was quite boring. How often it is though, that goals change games. Though neither side had had many chances, though it was clear that the Dabbers were the better team on the ball, more composed, more creative than their opponents, and a spell of possession soon worked a chance to cross the ball from the right hand side. A fine cross it was, though evading everyone except the Nuneaton goalkeeper who will no doubt be forever cursing his moment of tragic horror. It was an error worthy of mention alongside that of Mr Enkelman, the keeper failing to get a sure grip on the ball, spilling it, and looking back in anguish as its momentum carried it over the line into a gaping net, prompting the eruption, the spilling of hot coffee, the clapping of hands from roughly 800 Nantwich fans. Neil Collett, take a bow.
Instantly, the game changed. Both teams realised that this was the moment, this was their time, and Nuneaton to their credit wasted no time in galvanizing themselves, coming ever so close on a number of occasions. This game was finally turning out to be the spectacle we had all imagined it could, and then....enter our card happy official. A fifty fifty ball near the halfway line resulted in a challenge which the referee was clearly not too pleased about, but few Nantwich fans foresaw the straight red card that was to follow. Still, the unsavoury dismissal made the situation all the more desperate for the home side, who were now surviving constant Nuneaton attacks and were clinging on to their advantage. The Dabbers themselves could have made it 2-0 moments before the end but Danny Mitchley's shot smacked the woodwork, bouncing out for a throw.
It was with much relief that the whistle eventually came, and it wasn't until that moment, as I witnessed the jubilation, that the true scale of this tie hit me. Nantwich Town had just made it to the First Round draw for the first time in their 127 year history. For the players, fans, and anyone else connected with the club, today was surely the biggest game of their lives, it was their cup final. Or maybe not. We have already learned today of Nantwich's opponents in the first round, an away tie at MK Dons awaits them.
We have only just finished the qualifying rounds, still 3 rounds before the prospect of a Premier League giant killing, yet already the FA Cup has demonstrated its ability to captivate, enthrall and surprise thousands of fans throughout the country with days like this.
Nantwich today stands aloof from the bigger economic powerhouses of the North West, namely Manchester and Liverpool, and thus retains much of its market town character. The town is mainly associated with two events in English history. It was the scene of a "Great Fire" in 1583, superceded only by London's calamity almost a hundred years later. Even more prominent was the role Nantwich was to play in the battle for power between Parliament and the Royalists during the Civil War. Nantwich was the only town in Cheshire to support Parliament and was the scene of a siege lasting 6 weeks in 1644. Today you can still visit the sight of the battle, and it is reenacted annually.
Back to more important matters, and after sampling some of the local culinary delights it was time to take one's place inside the Weaver Stadium. On asking a local where the best place to stand would be, I was swiftly whisked away through some doors and tunnells, past the officials and into the club shop, where I was given a ticket which allowed me to sit undercover. Nice. It turns out that Nantwich and Nuneaton are fairly matched on the football field, the first half was an entirely cagey affair, with few chances for either side. Nuneaton fans, though few in number were extremely vocal in their support, and it certainly looked like the home side would have a tough task ahead of them.
The referee was certainly not helping matters, dealing his first yellow card of the game just 2 minutes in, and attempting to stop the game at every opportunity. It was cold. It was breezy. And for almost the entire first half, it was quite boring. How often it is though, that goals change games. Though neither side had had many chances, though it was clear that the Dabbers were the better team on the ball, more composed, more creative than their opponents, and a spell of possession soon worked a chance to cross the ball from the right hand side. A fine cross it was, though evading everyone except the Nuneaton goalkeeper who will no doubt be forever cursing his moment of tragic horror. It was an error worthy of mention alongside that of Mr Enkelman, the keeper failing to get a sure grip on the ball, spilling it, and looking back in anguish as its momentum carried it over the line into a gaping net, prompting the eruption, the spilling of hot coffee, the clapping of hands from roughly 800 Nantwich fans. Neil Collett, take a bow.
Instantly, the game changed. Both teams realised that this was the moment, this was their time, and Nuneaton to their credit wasted no time in galvanizing themselves, coming ever so close on a number of occasions. This game was finally turning out to be the spectacle we had all imagined it could, and then....enter our card happy official. A fifty fifty ball near the halfway line resulted in a challenge which the referee was clearly not too pleased about, but few Nantwich fans foresaw the straight red card that was to follow. Still, the unsavoury dismissal made the situation all the more desperate for the home side, who were now surviving constant Nuneaton attacks and were clinging on to their advantage. The Dabbers themselves could have made it 2-0 moments before the end but Danny Mitchley's shot smacked the woodwork, bouncing out for a throw.
It was with much relief that the whistle eventually came, and it wasn't until that moment, as I witnessed the jubilation, that the true scale of this tie hit me. Nantwich Town had just made it to the First Round draw for the first time in their 127 year history. For the players, fans, and anyone else connected with the club, today was surely the biggest game of their lives, it was their cup final. Or maybe not. We have already learned today of Nantwich's opponents in the first round, an away tie at MK Dons awaits them.
We have only just finished the qualifying rounds, still 3 rounds before the prospect of a Premier League giant killing, yet already the FA Cup has demonstrated its ability to captivate, enthrall and surprise thousands of fans throughout the country with days like this.
Sunday, 16 October 2011
Daventry Town 1 Nuneaton Borough 2
It was a shortlived spell that I got to see Daventry play in this season's competition, however they have so far been the team that has captured my attention with their hunger, desire and for the atmosphere inside the ground. Coming to Daventry has felt like coming to a proper football club, one that stays true to its roots but can also harbour ambitions of success.
Right from when the draw was announced I had a feeling this tie was going to be special. Firstly, having spent the best part of a year working in the town of Nuneaton, I had the pleasure of knowing some of the locals, for all their charm and quirkiness. Secondly, I happened to be acquainted with the home side's assistant manager, Mr Andy Reece who had, for the previous game, generously provided me with a signed programme. My interest in this game was to heighten even more upon learning that a certain Mr Lee Hendrie might be making his Daventry debut.
Unsurprisingly, I was rooting for the hosts, though in reality they had little hope. Nuneaton are 2 divisions above them, playing in the Blue Square Premier, which for Daventry, was quite a leap in standard. However it proved to be a much tighter game on the pitch, Nuneaton were quiet in the first half, unlike their fans, and by half time the scores were still level. Both teams had had chances but it was certainly Daventry who were controlling long passages of play, their main attacking outlet being my friend Lee. The former Villan showed some neat touches and seemed more than capable of fitting in to his new team.
How often it is though, that games are won and lost in the second half. Daventry were by now playing with the sun in their eyes and it showed, Nuneaton scoring just after the interval and in a second seemingly undoing all of Daventry's excellent first half work. Still, it was harsh on the home side, the goal only being scored courtesy of a huge deflection. And they deserve a lot of credit for the manner in which they fought back, still going forward, still creating some good chances, their only failure being totally unable to hit the target. Up until the disasterous second goal, Daventry still had an excellent chance. This changed however, after a defender failed to clear the ball, instead choosing to make life incredibly hard for himself....do I need to tell you what happened next?
Yet still, at 0-2 down, with barely a third of the match remaining, they kept coming, and to my mind they thoroughly deserved their goal when it finally did come, and what a finish it was too, a cracking strike from 20 yards out. Had a close range header been just inches lower it would surely have sent the vast majority of fans into a state of delerium just seconds from the end, but it wasn't to be.
I cannot help but feel quite sad about Daventry's exit. They matched Nuneaton for long periods of the game and to concede two goals the way they did must be crushing. To be honest, I'm not exactly relishing the idea of a home draw at Nuneaton either, I used to work there, working for the local community and I'm bound to bump into someone I know. So here's to an away draw!
Right from when the draw was announced I had a feeling this tie was going to be special. Firstly, having spent the best part of a year working in the town of Nuneaton, I had the pleasure of knowing some of the locals, for all their charm and quirkiness. Secondly, I happened to be acquainted with the home side's assistant manager, Mr Andy Reece who had, for the previous game, generously provided me with a signed programme. My interest in this game was to heighten even more upon learning that a certain Mr Lee Hendrie might be making his Daventry debut.
Unsurprisingly, I was rooting for the hosts, though in reality they had little hope. Nuneaton are 2 divisions above them, playing in the Blue Square Premier, which for Daventry, was quite a leap in standard. However it proved to be a much tighter game on the pitch, Nuneaton were quiet in the first half, unlike their fans, and by half time the scores were still level. Both teams had had chances but it was certainly Daventry who were controlling long passages of play, their main attacking outlet being my friend Lee. The former Villan showed some neat touches and seemed more than capable of fitting in to his new team.
How often it is though, that games are won and lost in the second half. Daventry were by now playing with the sun in their eyes and it showed, Nuneaton scoring just after the interval and in a second seemingly undoing all of Daventry's excellent first half work. Still, it was harsh on the home side, the goal only being scored courtesy of a huge deflection. And they deserve a lot of credit for the manner in which they fought back, still going forward, still creating some good chances, their only failure being totally unable to hit the target. Up until the disasterous second goal, Daventry still had an excellent chance. This changed however, after a defender failed to clear the ball, instead choosing to make life incredibly hard for himself....do I need to tell you what happened next?
Yet still, at 0-2 down, with barely a third of the match remaining, they kept coming, and to my mind they thoroughly deserved their goal when it finally did come, and what a finish it was too, a cracking strike from 20 yards out. Had a close range header been just inches lower it would surely have sent the vast majority of fans into a state of delerium just seconds from the end, but it wasn't to be.
I cannot help but feel quite sad about Daventry's exit. They matched Nuneaton for long periods of the game and to concede two goals the way they did must be crushing. To be honest, I'm not exactly relishing the idea of a home draw at Nuneaton either, I used to work there, working for the local community and I'm bound to bump into someone I know. So here's to an away draw!
Sunday, 2 October 2011
Daventry Town 2 Leamington FC 1
"Sports serve society by providing vivid examples of excellence" - George F. Will (1941 -)
Too true, George. One could have been forgiven for thinking that they had landed in a sort of football heaven yesterday afternoon, strolling around the Communications Park Stadium. Not only were there the examples of excellence on the field to which Mr Will was aluding to, but also one could point to the sublime cornish pasty I was eating, the swanky bar with its flatscreen tvs showing sky sports, and of course, the Indian Summer weather as such vivid examples of excellence.
However, the joy of the afternoon was not quite so apparent during the car journey there. I had managed to procure a companion, by the name of Mr Lee Wood to join me on my latest trip across the English football universe. The trip began promisingly, topics being discussed included exactly which group of supporters we should include ourselves in; was the great Debbie Hodgkins going to make an appearance; would Daventry Town have a bar named after a local hero like their Leamington counterparts? Pretty soon however, Lee, or Poosh as he is better known, was overcome by the heat and descended into a nap on the passenger seat. I also inexpliceably lost concentration and contrived to enter the M1 driving in the wrong direction.
We eventually arrived about 3 minutes late, and by the time we had negotiated the queue at the burger bar and actually acquired our lunch, it was almost halfway through the first half. Not that we missed much during that time. Both teams seemed evenly matched with Leamington just shading the possession but unable to make anything count. Daventry Town took advantage of their opponents inability to put in a decent cross, twice creating two chances on the counter attack, and converting both.
Perhaps this would be an ideal time to revert back to Mr Will's wise words at the beginning of the article; yes the weather was good, yes the cornish pasty filled a hole, but these examples of excellence surely pale into insignificance when you consider Leamington's sublime example of how not to defend. The first goal was a terrible one to concede, a low cross towards the near post, both defender and goalkeeper combined to make a complete hash of clearing the danger, and it was left to an onrushing Daventry player to tap in.
Though Leamington worked hard, they failed to deliver one decent cross into the box, too often struggling in the final third to create a decent chance, and it was the collapse of yet another attack that Daventry were able to capitalise on, within seconds finishing off at the other end with a tidy finish from about 10 yards out. All this before half time, and I couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for Leamington, who had had more than their lions share of possession. However, from 2-0 down it was always going to be a battle and so it proved, though not for the want of trying. I feel the Brakes deserve credit for their courageous fightback in the second half, and they certainly finished the game the stronger of the two sides. I was also quite pleased when they managed to gain some reward for their hard work, a penalty in the last minute of the game.
However, the tie belonged to Daventry, who provided a superb example of counter attacking football to win the match, and both me and Poosh agreed that the best team had won.
And so we have come to the end of yet another FA Cup weekend, so far Boldmere have graced themselves, Leamington have provided a short distraction, but now my attention turns to Daventry Town FC and I await the draw on Monday with a keen anticipation.....
Too true, George. One could have been forgiven for thinking that they had landed in a sort of football heaven yesterday afternoon, strolling around the Communications Park Stadium. Not only were there the examples of excellence on the field to which Mr Will was aluding to, but also one could point to the sublime cornish pasty I was eating, the swanky bar with its flatscreen tvs showing sky sports, and of course, the Indian Summer weather as such vivid examples of excellence.
However, the joy of the afternoon was not quite so apparent during the car journey there. I had managed to procure a companion, by the name of Mr Lee Wood to join me on my latest trip across the English football universe. The trip began promisingly, topics being discussed included exactly which group of supporters we should include ourselves in; was the great Debbie Hodgkins going to make an appearance; would Daventry Town have a bar named after a local hero like their Leamington counterparts? Pretty soon however, Lee, or Poosh as he is better known, was overcome by the heat and descended into a nap on the passenger seat. I also inexpliceably lost concentration and contrived to enter the M1 driving in the wrong direction.
We eventually arrived about 3 minutes late, and by the time we had negotiated the queue at the burger bar and actually acquired our lunch, it was almost halfway through the first half. Not that we missed much during that time. Both teams seemed evenly matched with Leamington just shading the possession but unable to make anything count. Daventry Town took advantage of their opponents inability to put in a decent cross, twice creating two chances on the counter attack, and converting both.
Perhaps this would be an ideal time to revert back to Mr Will's wise words at the beginning of the article; yes the weather was good, yes the cornish pasty filled a hole, but these examples of excellence surely pale into insignificance when you consider Leamington's sublime example of how not to defend. The first goal was a terrible one to concede, a low cross towards the near post, both defender and goalkeeper combined to make a complete hash of clearing the danger, and it was left to an onrushing Daventry player to tap in.
Though Leamington worked hard, they failed to deliver one decent cross into the box, too often struggling in the final third to create a decent chance, and it was the collapse of yet another attack that Daventry were able to capitalise on, within seconds finishing off at the other end with a tidy finish from about 10 yards out. All this before half time, and I couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for Leamington, who had had more than their lions share of possession. However, from 2-0 down it was always going to be a battle and so it proved, though not for the want of trying. I feel the Brakes deserve credit for their courageous fightback in the second half, and they certainly finished the game the stronger of the two sides. I was also quite pleased when they managed to gain some reward for their hard work, a penalty in the last minute of the game.
However, the tie belonged to Daventry, who provided a superb example of counter attacking football to win the match, and both me and Poosh agreed that the best team had won.
And so we have come to the end of yet another FA Cup weekend, so far Boldmere have graced themselves, Leamington have provided a short distraction, but now my attention turns to Daventry Town FC and I await the draw on Monday with a keen anticipation.....
Sunday, 18 September 2011
Leamington 5 Boldmere St Michaels 0
I was genuinely looking forward to this clash. For me, an away trip to Leamington represented the first real 'road trip' style experience that I am expecting to have over the next few months. It was also going to be interesting to see how Boldmere could handle a team that was 2 whole divisions above them. As the scoreline suggests, they couldn't, but what was more intriguing about this tie was the discovery of new surroundings, of a club in possession of higher trappings of fame and fortune, and ambitions.
The New Windmill Ground is situated in the middle of nowhere deep in the Warwickshire countryside, and is a very smart set up. Home fans were heard loud and clear in the stand behind the goal, and seen clearly too thanks to the many flags draped over them. The club boasts a large modern clubhouse, where you can enjoy a post match pint with fans and players alike, in the Ed Mullard bar. During the match, should you fancy striking up a conversation with the locals, you could always pop across to the club shop, where you would be served by club stalwart Debbie Hodgkins. I know this, because I was informed by the professional matchday programme, a snip even at this level, at only £2.
Back to the football, and it was clear right from the start that Leamington were a club who knew what they were doing on the pitch as well as off. They were faster, pacier, sharper and fitter than their Birmingham based opponents, who found it hard to get much possession in the early stages of the game. That said, Boldmere were only 1-0 down by half time, there was every chance of scoring a goal in the 2nd half and the game was by no means over yet.
This changed however, after the Boldmere captain hauled down a Leamington player in the penalty area, the resulting conversion doubling Leamington's lead. From then on it was clearly game over. Boldmere lost their cool, leading to a dramatic collapse in the final 10 minutes, conceding 3 more goals.
It was hardly surprising, but at the same time a fascinating contest, both teams trying to play football, but one team clearly miles ahead than the other in terms of quality and fitness. At the end of the game, I decided to follow the programme's recommendations and sample the atmosphere in the Ed Mullard bar, where I could sit and watch Debbie Hodgkins in action, whilst reflecting on Boldmere's short and sweet FA cup run. The draw is on Monday, and this is where it begins to get really exciting. There are hundreds of teams in the 2nd Qualifying round...I could be traveling anywhere between Leamington and Carlisle......
The New Windmill Ground is situated in the middle of nowhere deep in the Warwickshire countryside, and is a very smart set up. Home fans were heard loud and clear in the stand behind the goal, and seen clearly too thanks to the many flags draped over them. The club boasts a large modern clubhouse, where you can enjoy a post match pint with fans and players alike, in the Ed Mullard bar. During the match, should you fancy striking up a conversation with the locals, you could always pop across to the club shop, where you would be served by club stalwart Debbie Hodgkins. I know this, because I was informed by the professional matchday programme, a snip even at this level, at only £2.
Back to the football, and it was clear right from the start that Leamington were a club who knew what they were doing on the pitch as well as off. They were faster, pacier, sharper and fitter than their Birmingham based opponents, who found it hard to get much possession in the early stages of the game. That said, Boldmere were only 1-0 down by half time, there was every chance of scoring a goal in the 2nd half and the game was by no means over yet.
This changed however, after the Boldmere captain hauled down a Leamington player in the penalty area, the resulting conversion doubling Leamington's lead. From then on it was clearly game over. Boldmere lost their cool, leading to a dramatic collapse in the final 10 minutes, conceding 3 more goals.
It was hardly surprising, but at the same time a fascinating contest, both teams trying to play football, but one team clearly miles ahead than the other in terms of quality and fitness. At the end of the game, I decided to follow the programme's recommendations and sample the atmosphere in the Ed Mullard bar, where I could sit and watch Debbie Hodgkins in action, whilst reflecting on Boldmere's short and sweet FA cup run. The draw is on Monday, and this is where it begins to get really exciting. There are hundreds of teams in the 2nd Qualifying round...I could be traveling anywhere between Leamington and Carlisle......
Coleshill Town 0 Boldmere 1
Im not gonna lie. There were several times during the course of this match when I seriously began to question my motives in taking on this challenge. An FA Cup replay on a cold, wet Tuesday evening? Great.
This one had to be done however, and being a local derby, it had every chance of becoming a classic. It wasn't. In reality it was a game of little incident, Boldmere scoring the games only goal by means of a free kick that flew past everyone in the box, including the goalkeeper, into the net. In the second half, the weather deteriorated further, and I ended up watching the rest of the game in my brother's girlfriends car.
For Boldmere however, the importance of the result of this tie cannot be overstated; a tough away win againt a team higher placed in the league, a local derby as well, this was a great result for them. Now for Leamington....
This one had to be done however, and being a local derby, it had every chance of becoming a classic. It wasn't. In reality it was a game of little incident, Boldmere scoring the games only goal by means of a free kick that flew past everyone in the box, including the goalkeeper, into the net. In the second half, the weather deteriorated further, and I ended up watching the rest of the game in my brother's girlfriends car.
For Boldmere however, the importance of the result of this tie cannot be overstated; a tough away win againt a team higher placed in the league, a local derby as well, this was a great result for them. Now for Leamington....
Sunday, 4 September 2011
Boldmere St Michaels 2 Coleshill Town 2
And so the FA Cup brought me back to Boldmere on a mild Tuesday evening for a local derby clash with high flying Coleshill Town. Lets face it, it was never going to be a walkover. While the first round had served up a rather entertaining clash against a team a division below, this one presented Boldmere with a much tougher challenge, made tougher still, by the comparative loss of form since the last tie.
And so it proved.
Boldmere again set their stall out to play as unattractive, direct football as possible, their sole attacking strategy being to hit the channels in the vain hope of releasing a pacy winger, or giving service to the big man up front. In truth, this direct style of play seemed like it was paying off, as the huge Number 9 struck a superb left foot shot in from about 18 yards. However, false dawns are aplenty in non league football, and it was only a matter of time before Coleshill's industrious play was to yeild them rewards. They equalised, and soon went 2-1 ahead.
What I have seen already in both ties is that a football game rarely opens up until late in the second half. Boldmere started the half better, quicker and set about their task with new enthusaism. Their archillies heel however, was yet again the tactics they were to employ, making little use of any centre midfield intricacy they did have. Meanwhile, both sets of players quickly began to use the match as a method of stress relief, Boldmere suffered injuries in quick succession, and gaining a penalty soon after. Though the penalty was saved, Boldmere were able to gain some reward for their hardwork by eventually equalising.
At the end, it was a truly dour affair, suitably rounded off at the very end, by a scuffle, an argument, and a centre midfielder getting sent off AFTER the game had finished. The result? Iv got to do this all over again on Tuesday for the replay.
And so it proved.
Boldmere again set their stall out to play as unattractive, direct football as possible, their sole attacking strategy being to hit the channels in the vain hope of releasing a pacy winger, or giving service to the big man up front. In truth, this direct style of play seemed like it was paying off, as the huge Number 9 struck a superb left foot shot in from about 18 yards. However, false dawns are aplenty in non league football, and it was only a matter of time before Coleshill's industrious play was to yeild them rewards. They equalised, and soon went 2-1 ahead.
What I have seen already in both ties is that a football game rarely opens up until late in the second half. Boldmere started the half better, quicker and set about their task with new enthusaism. Their archillies heel however, was yet again the tactics they were to employ, making little use of any centre midfield intricacy they did have. Meanwhile, both sets of players quickly began to use the match as a method of stress relief, Boldmere suffered injuries in quick succession, and gaining a penalty soon after. Though the penalty was saved, Boldmere were able to gain some reward for their hardwork by eventually equalising.
At the end, it was a truly dour affair, suitably rounded off at the very end, by a scuffle, an argument, and a centre midfielder getting sent off AFTER the game had finished. The result? Iv got to do this all over again on Tuesday for the replay.
Monday, 22 August 2011
Boldmere St Michaels 5 Bartley Green 2
So the first tie of a long journey took me to Boldmere St Michaels on a sunny Saturday, and if this is anything to go by, I have some mouthwatering ties coming up. With the first round proper not beginning till November, I felt it was important to witness an interesting game right from the start, and it couldn't have started better than this.
Not that the afternoons excitement would have been remotely apparent to me during most of the first half however, with the home side's sole attacking tactic being spraying long balls from defence to the big lad up front. The game in its early stages beared all the hallmarks of a classic Wimbledon league match. It was as if the midfield were invisible. Though Boldmere managed to muster a 1-0 lead, the team looked lethargic, dazed, slow, and even uninterested. Bartley Green, for their part, threatened to spoil the party by daring to equalise. Though by half time Boldmere had regained the lead, the home side were looking distinctly bad value for money considering the £5 admission fee.
It is said that those small 15 minutes between halfs can change the course of history. Whatever happened in the dressing room, it was clear that Boldmere had been given something of a talking to by the way they set about in the 2nd, though it wasnt till they scored their 3rd that they began to actually play football. Halfway through the 2nd half, it was Bartley Greens turn to show the FA that they hadn't been included in the competition merely to make up the numbers, and provide the tie with a genuinely comic moment, bringing on their diminutive number 15, who must surely be the worlds shortest footballer. Sadly for Bartley, not even this cross between Maradona and Steve Sidwell could alter proceedings in their favour, and Boldmere rounded off the game with a moment of genuine quality in the dying minutes, a classic training ground rehearsed set piece finish.
And so it was Boldmere, the long ball specialists, who make it to the next round of this years greatest football cup competition, with a local derby against Coleshill Town in the next round. Though I silently fancied a trip to the other side of Birmingham to take a peek at Bartley Green's gaff, on this showing I won't begrudge a return to the Trevor Brown Memorial Ground in a few weeks time. Apparently, the winners take on Leamington, so it seems il have to wait a while for my first real FA Cup journey.
Not that the afternoons excitement would have been remotely apparent to me during most of the first half however, with the home side's sole attacking tactic being spraying long balls from defence to the big lad up front. The game in its early stages beared all the hallmarks of a classic Wimbledon league match. It was as if the midfield were invisible. Though Boldmere managed to muster a 1-0 lead, the team looked lethargic, dazed, slow, and even uninterested. Bartley Green, for their part, threatened to spoil the party by daring to equalise. Though by half time Boldmere had regained the lead, the home side were looking distinctly bad value for money considering the £5 admission fee.
It is said that those small 15 minutes between halfs can change the course of history. Whatever happened in the dressing room, it was clear that Boldmere had been given something of a talking to by the way they set about in the 2nd, though it wasnt till they scored their 3rd that they began to actually play football. Halfway through the 2nd half, it was Bartley Greens turn to show the FA that they hadn't been included in the competition merely to make up the numbers, and provide the tie with a genuinely comic moment, bringing on their diminutive number 15, who must surely be the worlds shortest footballer. Sadly for Bartley, not even this cross between Maradona and Steve Sidwell could alter proceedings in their favour, and Boldmere rounded off the game with a moment of genuine quality in the dying minutes, a classic training ground rehearsed set piece finish.
And so it was Boldmere, the long ball specialists, who make it to the next round of this years greatest football cup competition, with a local derby against Coleshill Town in the next round. Though I silently fancied a trip to the other side of Birmingham to take a peek at Bartley Green's gaff, on this showing I won't begrudge a return to the Trevor Brown Memorial Ground in a few weeks time. Apparently, the winners take on Leamington, so it seems il have to wait a while for my first real FA Cup journey.
Saturday, 20 August 2011
Magic Sponge, anyone?
So im watching a depleted Arsenal team try to establish a foothold on the game against Liverpool, and I feel this is the right occasion to voice an argument I have believed in for some time. It has been noted that several teams have players who are struggling for full match fitness at the start of this season. The first weekend of the Premier League triggered a few injuries to big name players which would suggest that the pre season techniques of various clubs isnt working. Take Vidic and Ferdinand, for instance. Petr Cech injured himself last week.The injury list stretches up and down the country, with the likes of Shay Given, Chris Samba, Mikel Arteta, Hugo Rodagella all struggling for match fitness in the early throes of the new season.
All these are key first team players for their respective teams, all these players have undertaken pre season training of some kind, yet none are certain to be in the first eleven this weekend.
Why?
I believe that the cause could be the emphasis on promotional pre season 'tours' undertaken by various clubs, mostly to far off places like the US and Asia. Personally, If I was a footballer, I wouldn't appreciate have to take long haul flights to the other side of the world, just to play three games, followed by a long haul flight home. Is this the best method of getting players ready for a new season?
Exactly what is more important these days, an increase in shirt sales in Thailand, or the match fitness of your star player? Look on the injury lists of the 'big 4' clubs in English football, and you have your answer.
On the plus side, there is one group of players who should revel in the injury list situation. Ignasi Miguel, the hitherto unheard of Spanish Under 19 defender, has just come on to make his Premier League debut for Arsenal, replacing yet another casualty, Koscielny, who has suffered a back spasm.
A chance for the young lad to shine, one would feel.
All these are key first team players for their respective teams, all these players have undertaken pre season training of some kind, yet none are certain to be in the first eleven this weekend.
Why?
I believe that the cause could be the emphasis on promotional pre season 'tours' undertaken by various clubs, mostly to far off places like the US and Asia. Personally, If I was a footballer, I wouldn't appreciate have to take long haul flights to the other side of the world, just to play three games, followed by a long haul flight home. Is this the best method of getting players ready for a new season?
Exactly what is more important these days, an increase in shirt sales in Thailand, or the match fitness of your star player? Look on the injury lists of the 'big 4' clubs in English football, and you have your answer.
On the plus side, there is one group of players who should revel in the injury list situation. Ignasi Miguel, the hitherto unheard of Spanish Under 19 defender, has just come on to make his Premier League debut for Arsenal, replacing yet another casualty, Koscielny, who has suffered a back spasm.
A chance for the young lad to shine, one would feel.
Wednesday, 17 August 2011
In the beginning....
Tuesday night. Atherstone Town away. After watching yet another misplaced pass, another poor first touch, and yet another corner being drilled in far too deep, I slumped back in my seat, probably sporting a rather dissatisfied look on my face. So this is it, I mused. This is what non league football has to offer. A grim 0-0 draw in some backwatered hell hole in the Midlands. Literally the only positive thing about the whole game was that the tea was cheap.
Assisted by a conversation I was having with my Dad's best mate, and life long family friend John Burns, it hit me that non league football simply had to offer more than this. John then mentioned the idea of the legendary "92 Club", a kind of secret sect of football fans who had visited all 92 football league grounds. Impossible, I thought. Then, glancing down at the fixtures in the matchday programme, I discovered that Boldmere's next fixture was a home tie against Bartley Green, in non other than the Extra Preliminary round of the FA Cup. I then had what can only be described as an epiphany, a mental shock that jolted me into life and to all intents and purposes gave me an almost religious conviction I had hitherto lacked. What about following a tie, an FA Cup tie all the way from the Preliminaries, to Wembley? Such an activity would surely allow me to experience all the highs and lows and romances of non league football, while always teasing me with the lure of the glamour of Wembley Stadium at the end.
And so, ladies and gentlemen, here I am. Boldmere are due to play Bartley Green at home on Saturday 20 August. And I will be there.....
Assisted by a conversation I was having with my Dad's best mate, and life long family friend John Burns, it hit me that non league football simply had to offer more than this. John then mentioned the idea of the legendary "92 Club", a kind of secret sect of football fans who had visited all 92 football league grounds. Impossible, I thought. Then, glancing down at the fixtures in the matchday programme, I discovered that Boldmere's next fixture was a home tie against Bartley Green, in non other than the Extra Preliminary round of the FA Cup. I then had what can only be described as an epiphany, a mental shock that jolted me into life and to all intents and purposes gave me an almost religious conviction I had hitherto lacked. What about following a tie, an FA Cup tie all the way from the Preliminaries, to Wembley? Such an activity would surely allow me to experience all the highs and lows and romances of non league football, while always teasing me with the lure of the glamour of Wembley Stadium at the end.
And so, ladies and gentlemen, here I am. Boldmere are due to play Bartley Green at home on Saturday 20 August. And I will be there.....
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