Retro - Limerick 3 Sligo Rovers 2 (League of Ireland Premier Division - 2015-16)

1^st August 2015

Limerick  3  Sligo Rovers  2 (League of Ireland – Premier Division)

It was a mere pipedream back in 2005 when I first crossed the water and watched Derry City play at the Brandywell.

The League of Ireland, with its two divisions, looked an immense task to complete, but, over time I’ve managed to chip away at it, and barring a couple of years where I abstained from visiting the emerald isle, I’ve usually managed to knock off two or three grounds a season.

I was helped somewhat by the fact that over the past few seasons the league have lost clubs in the shape of Monaghan United, Salthill Devon and Mervue United, but, having ticked off Athlone Town and Waterford United last season, it left me with just two grounds to get to in 2015 to achieve my own Holy Grail.

Cabinteely, the newcomers to the league, was nailed down in March, and that just left Limerick and their new stadium at Markets Field to complete the set. Myself and Rachael decided to hatch a plan!

Back in December when we talked about our Summer holidays, we planned to have a trip together to Southern Ireland because Rach had never been and I was desperate to show her why I had such an affinity for the place. It was a case of checking the fixtures, and if it all came together right, we could get in the Limerick v Sligo Rovers game on the Saturday, doubled up with the Cork City v Bohemians game on the Friday, assuming of course that Cork didn’t advance too far in the Europa League.

It was going to be quite a trip, a flight from Liverpool to Cork on the Thursday, two nights on Leeside and then a road trip to Limerick on the Saturday, followed by Galway on the Sunday before flying back to Liverpool from Knock on the Monday.

It was a trip we both couldn’t wait for and it certainly didn’t disappoint.

Arriving in Cork on the Thursday we picked up the car and headed down to the beautiful harbour of Kinsale, known as the culinary capital of Ireland, and then on the Friday we made the long drive out through West Cork via Bantry, right the way down the Wild Atlantic Way to Mizen Head.

The game on Friday night at Turners Cross saw a hugely impressive Cork side beat Bohemians 4-0, and then on the Saturday we made the way North to Limerick, calling in for some lunch at Adare, also known as the prettiest village in Ireland, and we weren’t going to argue with that!

Limerick itself isn’t the nicest of places, in fact it does have a somewhat chequered reputation. Known in the Irish media as ‘Stab City’, it is famed for its gangland activity and the subsequent knock on effect it has had on the region and its population. Parts of the City are nice, the King John’s Castle, the Milk Market, and indeed the impressive Thomond Park, but walking around the City Centre before the game it just felt very different to Cork. I’m not suggesting it felt threatening in any way, but you just felt that you didn’t really want to be hanging around late at night.

Markets Field is a short walk from the City Centre, and while not a scenic walk by any means, it was straightforward enough and we found a pub on the very edges of the Garryowen Estate which backs onto the ground. It didn’t look hugely appealing from the outside, but once inside it was clean and tidy, and the welcome, more importantly, was friendly.

Limerick didn’t start the season at Markets Field, in fact it’s been a bit of a story in terms of Limerick Football Club and grounds within the City. Back in the Sixties and right through to the early Eighties, they did in fact play at Markets Field, before leaving the stadium under somewhat controversial circumstances. Their next place of residence was on the Southern edges of the City in Rathbane, playing at the uninspiring Hogan Park. They left Rathbane in the mid 2000’s and moved to Jackman Park which was another unexciting venue right next door to the railway station, a ground where I saw them play Wexford Youths. They then spent a season at Thomond Park, which was a nice idea, but with such small crowds in a huge stadium, and with costs spiraling, the move back to Markets Field couldn’t come soon enough.

They had to start the season at Jackman Park as the new ground, which had lain derelict for many years, was developed to the required standard, but then finally in May, they made the move and saw a crowd in excess of two thousand turn up for the first game.

Crowds have dipped somewhat since then as the novelty has worn off, it’s probably also not helped by the fact that Limerick sat bottom of the league with just five points and no wins to their name either. Relegation does indeed look like an inevitability, but they are finally back at their spiritual home.

The ground itself is not going to win awards for aesthetic pleasure. If anything it is a somewhat grey and functional structure, dominated by a large main stand which has been completely refurbished. A huge wall dominates the perimeter of the ground, and other than a temporary seated stand behind the goal at the Garryowen End, the rest is hard standing. From the back of the Main Stand you can see across the City to the right and then directly in front of you is a giant factory.

The game itself while not anywhere near as high on quality as the night before in Cork, was equally as absorbing. Limerick played like a team with renewed confidence and scored twice in the first half through Vinne Faherty.

You did fear the worst when Rob Lehane pulled a goal back for Sligo just after the break, but then within ten minutes Dean Clarke had restored the two goal advantage. Sligo made it 3-2 in the 78^th minute through Gary Armstrong and that then resulted in them laying siege to the Limerick goal.  Some last ditch defending and several fine saves from Freddy Hall, plus a nerve jangling five minutes of added time simply increased the drama and tension, but the Super Blues hung on for their first victory of the season.

Not only was it their first victory of the season, it was also their first victory at Markets Field since 1984!  980 were present to see the historic moment.

A superb meal and a few drinks followed, before driving up to Galway the following morning and an afternoon at the famous Galway Races, which inevitably lead to a night on the brilliant Quay Street.

So, the League of Ireland is now complete, but this trip was so much more than that. It was a culmination of a dream that has taken over four years to happen for Rachael and I, and as far as I’m concerned the football and the final ‘tick’ was just one small part of it.

And that’s why, even though the League is now complete, the trips across the water are far from over.

Retro - Lowestoft Town 5 Gorleston 0 (Friendly - 2015-16)

18^th July 2015

Lowestoft Town  5  Gorleston  0 (Friendly)

Lowestoft Town Football Club has always intrigued me.

That probably started when I was a teenager and a colleague of my Dad’s gave him a huge pile of programmes from the club, dating back to the sixties. Not only that, when I first started watching Belper Town they had a manager called Evan Sutherland, who in my opinion built one of the greatest sides ever seen at Christchurch Meadow. Evan also managed Alfreton Town, Shepshed Charterhouse, and for some bizarre reason, Lowestoft Town!

In recent seasons the clubs rise, under stalwart manager Micky Chapman, has been pretty spectacular. They spent many years trundling along in the Eastern Counties League, albeit one of the bigger clubs, with one of the better grounds arousing decent support befitting a town of over 70,000 inhabitants.

But then they gained momentum, with a wee bit of financial backing thrown in!  They won promotion to the Ryman League First Division, then promotion again to the Premier Division, before finally making it to the Conference North after a couple of years of Play-Off disappointments. In between all of this they also played at Wembley in the FA Vase Final, losing to another upwardly mobile club in Kirkham & Wesham. For good measure they also reached the First Round Proper of the FA Cup, losing to Wrexham.

However, there is a problem with Lowestoft Town, and that becomes abundantly clear when you look at the map. Right on the border of Norfolk and Sulfolk, at the very Eastern tip of England, it really is out on a limb. When they won the Eastern Counties League, it was open to debate whether they went Ryman League, because of access to the M25, or possibly the Southern League, as technically and historically they would fit into that footprint. They went Ryman, all seemed good, but a further problem came when they made the Conference.

The Conference North and South split is a contentious one, at one stage Bishops Stortford were in the Conference North, and that was due to the imbalance of clubs forcing the boundary between the two leagues further South. When Lowestoft arrived in town, it was almost a case of neither league being a great fit because when you look at the sheer mileage involved, it was staggering. For example, is Lowestoft to Barrow any worse a journey than Lowestoft to Truro?

They went North, again mainly due to the balance of clubs, they could have left Bishops Stortford in the North and put Lowestoft in the South, but they chose not to. Lowestoft were not happy, Micky Chapman was unhappy because he had signed players on the basis they would be in the South, and we had the bizarre situation whereby the local derby for Lowestoft would be Boston United, 108 miles away! That is even more bizarre when you discover that as the crow flies, The Hague is actually nearer to Lowestoft!

They were tipped to get relegated, but they survived reasonably comfortably, however, it took its toll. They were fined after arriving late for the opening game of the season at Chorley, and after clocking up nearly 9,000 miles over the season, Chapman decided he could do it no more, an era was well and truly over for a man who had been involved with the club for over 30 years. When you think about it, setting off at 11am for a midweek game at Stalybridge Celtic, in semi professional football, is a bit much by anyone’s standards!

Yet I was intrigued, and over the years I’ve always kept on top of the Conference North in terms of visiting the grounds, but decided to shelve Lowestoft last season because I just felt they would either be relegated anyway, or they would be moved South at the end of the season. Neither happened, so I didn’t really have an excuse now. Pre-season seemed a good time to do it, nice weather, and also the game against Gorleston offered free admission, so costs wise it would probably be the cheapest time I could ever do it!

By the time I’d arrived in Lowestoft, almost four hours after setting off, I felt nothing but sympathy for the players, officials and supporters of the club. The journey for me, while relatively trouble free and scenic, was as tedious as it could possibly get, long flat roads, single carriageways, lorries, tractors, caravans, you name it! Having never gone further East than Norwich in my life before, it was nice to see a different part of the Country, but it hit home to me when I passed Kings Lynn and saw that it was still nearly 80 miles and over an hour and half away. They have Alfreton Town away second game of the season, and if travelling by bus for a midweek game, I reckon it will be 2.30am when they get back, and that’s one of the three or four nearer fixtures.

Once in Lowestoft I had a look around, I went through the town which to be fair was unspectacular, and dropped down through the industrial area to Ness Point, the furthest Easterly point of the Country, and it was there that I discovered Holland was actually nearer than Boston. Lowestoft is a seaside resort and has nice beaches, while the journey in along Yarmouth Road displayed some superb properties, but my overall view was that the town was one of real contrasts. It has its very nice bits, but it also has bits that are far from nice, and some of the areas around the football ground would fit into that category. It looks as though it has suffered economically, which is not unusual, but it has also suffered with its immigration issues, as typically happens in ports.

That said, once at Crown Meadow, the ground is smart, tidy, and the welcome was very friendly. A beer festival was taking place in the clubhouse which was dragging the crowds in, while on a beautiful day, the pitch was bathed in bright sunlight. The old main stand at Crown Meadow is a cracker, but other than a bit of covered terracing to its left hand side, and a very small piece of cover behind the top goal, it’s flat standing all around.

I liked it, but other than the main stand which is a somewhat iconic one in non-league football, it perhaps lacked a bit of character, now that may seem harsh, but it didn’t give you the same buzz as perhaps walking into Y Traeth did the previous week.

The game appears one sided if you look at the result, but the first half wasn’t a huge mismatch to be

fair. Lowestoft went in 2-0 up, but if Gorleston, who operate three leagues lower, had got someone who could finish, it might have been a bit closer.

Gorleston tired in the second period and conceded three good goals to give it a bit of a flattering look, but fair play to the visitors who battled hard and tried to play football. It was difficult as it always is in pre-season games to judge how the respective teams will do, but Lowestoft under Ady Gallagher now, should be ok. Gorleston for a step 5 side should be more than ok, they’ve not been a million miles away in recent seasons and I expect the same again.

I took a slightly different route back, rather than going via Great Yarmouth as I did on the way in, I went via the beautiful Oulton Broad and Beccles, and while slightly more scenic, it didn’t make much difference time wise. A van fire on the Norwich bypass slowed me down, and then the obligatory bus and horse box on the Newark to Mansfield road was hugely tedious. It took around four hours again, and I can’t recall ever being so glad to be getting home after a football match!

While a thoroughly enjoyable experience, and a level of curiosity now satisfied, I can look back on it and think to myself that I’m glad I won’t have to be doing it again, and that is where you start to have nothing but admiration for this football club, they do it and more every other week.

Lowestoft Town Football Club – I hold you in nothing but the highest regard!

Retro - Porthmadog 3 Barmouth & Dyffryn United 1 (Friendly - 2015-16)

11^th July 2015

Porthmadog  3  Barmouth & Dyffryn United  1 (Friendly)

I sometimes think we take certain things for granted, like for example living where we live in Derbyshire, the beauty of the scenery and the landscape is sometimes forgotten. It’s too easy to fail to recognise just what you have on your doorstep.

Granted, Wales is more than just a quick car journey away, but that said, within a couple of hours you can soon be over the border, and into some of the most fantastic landscapes this nation has to offer.

I’d kind of always known that, but it only really resonated again last season, and that was because I decided to have a purge at many of the Cymru Alliance grounds I’d yet to visit. Trips to Llanidloes, Llandrindod Wells, Denbigh, Llanfair and Penycae relit the fuse for me, and I made it one of my objectives for this season to try and complete all the grounds in the Alliance, and also the Welsh Premier League. Not just because it was a box ticking objective, but because it would involve some beautiful drives through some wonderful scenery, to some spectacular places.

Not only that, Rachael had been with me on some of the jaunts with me, and pretty much felt the same, so while she doesn’t normally harangue me as to what games I was going to be going to, during the course of the Summer she has paid more than a passing interest as to what my plans were regarding Wales.

Porthmadog’s friendly seemed a nice idea, it was a part of the World I’d not been to since a Sixth Form Residential Field Trip that resulted in us sleeping in a mountaineering hut outside Llanberis in freezing conditions! It was a comical trip with the late Malcolm Gander leading us, but I can remember playing football on the beach in Criccieth, counting cars in Beddgelert, and other random trips to places like Capel Curig and Betws-y-Coed. The problems started when we nearly got into a fight with some German exchange students in Caernarfon, and then had a drunken bender one night and were threatened with a swift journey home in disgrace!

That aside, I fancied Porthmadog, Rach booked a nice hotel in Caernarfon (yes, there is such a thing!) and we came up with a few things we could do to while away a couple of days. I’d not quite bargained for how long it was going to take though, my sat nav said just over three hours, but in reality it took four. The journey, once over the border at Oswestry, took us across the bottom of Wrexham, past the spectacular Pontcysyllte Aquaduct, and into Bala. It was then up into the lakes and mountains before dropping down into Porthmadog itself.

We initially went to a very quiet Criccieth and collected pebbles and rocks from the beach to decorate our garden, before heading into Porthmadog itself and down to the harbour for lunch.

With kick off approaching, we set off for Y Traeth, the home of CPD Porthmadog, only to discover that since the building of the new bypass, the main road to the ground was blocked by bollards, so after the usual degree of piss taking, it was a quick detour back through the town and onto the bypass to eventually find the one and only access road that leads to the car park!

Y Traeth is a bloody good ground, it used to host Welsh Premier League football and to be fair, it is without doubt one of the best grounds in the Cymru Alliance. A smart and spacious clubhouse greets you as you enter the turnstiles, with three small stands down one side of the pitch providing plenty of seats. A further ‘Atcost’ seated stand sits behind the far goal, with a larger section of cover, with a limited number of seats adorning the opposite end. The side opposite the trio of stands has no furniture as such, other than the huge obligatory TV gantry and Press Room that seems commonplace at Welsh grounds.

I liked it, it was smart, it was clean and tidy and the welcome, while initially in a foreign language, was a very welcome one!

But while the ground was impressive, it’s the location and the scenery that really takes you back. Whichever way you seem to look, it’s just stunning hills and mountains. With Craig Alltwen to one side and Moel-y-Gest to the other, and not to forget the sound and sight of the steam trains running along the Welsh Highland Railway, I would beg anyone to find a more scenic setting at this level of football.

The game itself wasn’t up to much, Porthmadog were worthy winners in the end against their Welsh Alliance counterparts, but it wasn’t really about the game, it was about the location, and the chance to visit some beautiful places and take in great scenery with my loved ones.

That night, we hit Caernarfon after checking into our lovely hotel, the Celtic Royal, and upon a recommendation from a work colleague we had a fantastic meal at the Black Boy. The next day saw us visit take a walk into the town and also around the edges of Caernarfon Castle and the harbour. 

Later that afternoon we went the short distance to Llanberis, and to be honest, if you think Porthmadog is impressive, the scenery here as you look out across the lake really is truly spectacular, and not only that, just behind you is the home of CPD Llanberis, which got me thinking about a football trip to Snowdonia!

A trip to the fascinating Electric Mountain followed, before we closed our little weekend break with a ride down to Portmeirion, a place I have wanted to visit for many years, and on a beautiful afternoon, it really was a stunning place to visit and have a meal, looking out over the water watching the tides coming in.

By 9pm we were safely back home, a long and tiring couple of days, but so many great memories and such a wonderful place. I would recommend it to anyone, and while the football itself was a little bit dull, it really didn’t matter when you are in a place like this!

Retro - FC Utrecht v Heracles Almelo (2015 Football Weekend)

29th November 2015

FC Utrecht  4  Heracles Almelo  2  (Eredivisie)

Ten years ago, when the Football Weekend was starting to get into full swing, I told Theo that one of the places I would really like to go was Utrecht, this was alongside Feyenoord, Den Haag and Ajax.

Why those particular clubs? Well during the rise of media attention of football hooliganism, and also at a time where those inclined started to make names for themselves by producing books on the subject, often based on personal accounts, Holland came into focus.

Not only that, the delightful Danny Dyer decided to do a bit of a World tour looking at Football Hooliganism across other continents, and as you can imagine, he focused on the Dutch.

And which clubs were the most prevalent in these tomes and features? Ajax were up there with their rivalry with Feyenoord, and having gone to Ajax very early on, and had the experience of a game at De Kuip in Rotterdam last year, I can testify that they are both very ‘passionate’ bunches, whereas what I was picking up on Den Haag was quite simply that they were the biggest bunch of bastards the World has ever seen.

Utrecht on the other hand was quite an interesting one, the fans very kindly assisted the local authorities many years ago by dismantling their own stadium after the last game of the season, in readiness for the new one being built, and guess what, they didn’t charge a penny! But also, they had gained some infamy due to a hooligan group known as the Bunnik Side.

When Danny Dyer went to Utrecht he was taken into the supporters own bar in the stand behind the goal, which is also known as the Bunnik Side, and as you have probably worked out, the hooligan supporters are named after the stand in which they position themselves for the games.

They were an evil bunch, but not a young bunch, blokes in their forties and fifties, and believe me, you would not have messed. I went on to You Tube to see them in action, and yes, they can play alright! Funnily enough as well, only around three years ago we had been watching a local game near Doetinchem on the Sunday on one of our trips, and the Utrecht v Twente game was live on TV, well it wasn’t, because the Utrecht fans were on the pitch trying to attack the Twente fans, the game ended up being abandoned! It’s fair to say Theo and my Dad were less than keen on a visit.

So Utrecht and the Bunnik Side stayed with me, and every year as we got the train from Amsterdam to Arnhem, we passed through Utrecht, and just before train went through Bunnik Station you could see the tall stands of the Galgenwaard Stadium on the left hand side.

However, the games just never fell right, we ideally needed a Friday night or a Sunday game, and finally, this year, it fell in our favour, the Sunday afternoon against relatively low profile opposition in the shape of Heracles Almelo. What this also meant was that tickets wouldn’t be a problem.

We had a challenge for Theo though, half jokingly we told him when he was over in October that we would like a bit of corporate hospitality at the game with it being the last one of our tour, did he deliver?

The plan was relatively simple, drive to Utrecht and head for car park P4, then we had to meet Harry. What could possibly go wrong? Two things to be fair, car park P4 was not signposted, we circumnavigated the ground twice, and then reversed down a motorway slip road. Finally, we were sent to a small car park at the training ground, a ten minute walk away, only it appears P4 is one of those secretive little places that no one really knows about!

What about Harry? Theo told us he was an elderly chap, with grey hair and he would be at the main entrance wearing an FC Utrecht coat. That begged a couple of questions, who was he, and how did he know him, the short answers were “no idea” and “I don’t”!

Strictly speaking, Harry was the Father of an old colleague of Theo’s, he’d never met him, and didn’t know what he looked like, so welcome to the old game of find a needle in a haystack! But find Harry we did, and it turned out he was a super chap, and a great host.

Very simply, Harry worked for FC Utrecht in a capacity that meant he helped foreign players integrate into the Club, the City and indeed the Country. The good news was, he pretty much had access all areas, and as a result we were ushered through the main entrance, fitted with a wrist band and taken upstairs to a large lounge. It was fantastic, lager flowed, food was served although we didn’t partake, and Harry told us his story and some of the history of the club. While we were chatting, Harry then introduced us to a chap, who I kind of recognised but wasn’t sure of his name. Turned out it was Jan Wouters, the former Dutch International midfielder, famed for his elbow on Paul Gascoigne in 1988! He was manager at Utrecht a couple of seasons ago, but was now the assistant at Feyenoord. Today, he was doing some scouting.

We chatted briefly to Jan, he was quite a softly spoken and shy man, quite a contrast to the player he was, where he was famed for his aggressive midfield play, bearing in mind he played in the best Dutch side after the Cruyff / Neeskens side of 1974. He also had something of a stellar spell playing for Bayern Munich as well.

The day itself had been designated a memorial day for former Utrecht player David Di Tommaso who had died in his sleep ten years ago to the day. Before the game we laid flowers at a memorial outside the ground, and then in the build up to kick off an evocative montage was shown on the screens in the stadium. His widow gave an emotional speech on the pitch just before the game started and then his son, Noah, kicked the game off. The crowd at varying intervals throughout the game chanted his name in tribute, all very powerful stuff.

The Galgenwaard has been through many changes since their hooligans demolished it all those years ago. The newly built version after a few years was deemed to be too small so a much bigger attempt shot up in its place. It wasn’t dissimilar to the DW Stadium at Wigan, probably a touch bigger, but design wise it did remind me of it. The ground had around 18,000 in for the game, which was well under capacity.

Heracles, who were flying high, went in at half time with a one goal lead, and it was looking a bit grim for Utrecht as they were down to ten men. But the second half saw a completely unexpected turnaround of event. Former Ram Nacer Barazite, who I once saw miss a last minute penalty against Forest, scored twice in quick succession, before Heracles got it back to 2-2. However, two late goals from Sebastien Haller gave Utrecht a victory that seemed most unlikely at half time, it was to be a fitting tribute to David Di Tommaso.

A quick beer, and a farewell to Harry before the walk back to our car and the journey to Duiven, which strangely enough thanks to a diversion, took us through the small town of Bunnik, and it did make me wonder just how the locals feel about being associated with one of the biggest football hooligan gangs in Europe?

But that was the football weekend over for another year, all went to plan, we had a fantastic time, but now back to reality, and looking at the weather forecast, probably the list of plastic pitches was going to have to be dusted down once again.

Retro - VFL Osnabruck v Chemnitzer (2015 Football Weekend)

28th November 2015

VFL Osnabruck  2  Chemnitzer  0  (Liga 3)

Civic duty called on the Saturday of our trip, the City of Derby is twinned with the City of Osnabruck in Germany, and it was with a degree of seriousness that we emailed the Osnabruck envoy to Derby the night before, to see if he fancied meeting us at the game!

He didn’t reply until the Monday, apparently he doesn’t check his emails at weekends, but that said, the thought of a freezing cold afternoon sat with three beer swilling and bratwurst scoffing blokes with a passion for all things Derby was perhaps a bit too much for him.

I’d wanted to go to Osnabruck for a while, for a few reasons to be fair. One being the fact it is twinned with Derby, the other that the ground was meant to be quite a smart and traditional stadium, and thirdly, I’d heard from a friend of mine that the fans were known for their support and passion.

It was my turn to drive, so I insisted on a 10.30am start, and by the time we were going past Deventer on the road towards Enschede, both of my companions were snoring away. The autobahn soon arrived and within two hours we were parking up on the side streets that are adjacent to the ground.

The stadium in Osnabruck is not too far from the centre of the City, and given it’s hemmed in nature with housing on all four sides, you could to a degree draw parallels with the old Baseball Ground at Derby. On that note, not a single reference to Derby was anywhere to be seen as we travelled to and from the ground, certainly not on any road signs like you would find in England. I’m sure though, somewhere in Osnabruck there is a reference to it, just like the old Osnabruck Café in Derby where my Grandmother used to work.

We managed a beer and a bratwurst on the concourse outside the stadium, and as is always the case in Germany, the crowds like to arrive nice and early. The stadium itself is a little cracker, holding 16,000 it has a fairly modern stand on one side and then in the main stand where we sat were some executive boxes to the rear, while underneath were various food and drink outlets.

Behind the goal to our left was covered terracing, split down the middle between home and away fans, while behind the goal to our right were the hardcore VFL supporters, and they didn’t half make a racket.

Just shy of 9,000 were in the stadium for the game against Chemnitzer. Chemnitzer come from the town of Chemnitz, which is in the former East Germany, and while the name may not be overly well known, many will remember them by their former name of Karl Marx Stadt. East German football prior to the unification of Germany is something that fascinates me somewhat, and when time permits I would like to do some more research into some of the famous old names like Carl Zeiss Jena, Dynamo Dresden and Lokomotiv Leipzig.

The atmosphere inside the stadium was fantastic, the VFL fans were simply amazing, putting on a display of scarves and flags prior to the kick off, and then singing non-stop throughout. The away fans numbered about 30, but then according to the programme Chemnitz is 489 kilometers from Osnabruck!

The match was in what is known as Liga 3 in Germany, and it is as you would expect, the third tier of football in the Country. Some of the teams in the league have experienced the top flight Bundesliga football, Energie Cottbus for one, and while Osnabruck sat fifth in the table, Chemnitzer sat ninth.

The first half was pretty poor, but the game came to life in the second period when the hosts found the net twice, in front of the packed terracing. It was probably a fair result in the end as the visitors offered very little in front of goal. As is always the case in Germany, at the final whistle the players went to celebrate with, and applaud the fans. Ten minutes after the game as we approached our car, the Osnabruck fans were still in the stadium at full voice, celebrating the victory. My admiration of German football fans continues to grow the more I see them. They constantly support their teams, and never ever seem to get on their backs when things aren’t going so well.

We escaped the City pretty easily and within a couple of hours we were pulling onto Theo’s drive back in Duiven. Our Civic duties complete, normal service could be resumed, the beers were very quickly out of the fridge!

Retro - Achilles 29 v FC Volendam (2015 Football Weekend)

27th November 2015

Achilles’29  0  FC Volendam  0  (Eerstdivisie)

The annual Dutch / German trip that myself and my old man partake in was well under way. Along with our old friend Theo, we had already taken in the Champions League game between Borussia Monchengladbach and Sevilla, and then the Schalke v APOEL Nicosia game the following evening, but for the third game of the five game tour, it was a bit closer to our base in Duiven, which falls in the Gelderland region of the Netherlands.

Today wasn’t just about football though, it was also about a bit of culture and a bit of a history lesson. We started our day with a short drive through Arnhem, over the John Frost Bridge, until we arrived at the historic and well to do town of Oosterbeek.

Oosterbeek is famous for a couple of things, firstly Ronald Koeman used to live in the town, but secondly, it was a town ravaged during the Battle of Arnhem in September 1944. The Battle of Arnhem itself was famous, or maybe even infamous, for Operation Market Garden, which in short was a huge military plan drawn up by Field Marshal Montgomery for the Allied Forces to make ground on the Nazi march through Western Europe and make way into Germany. With one of the key elements being the capturing of the many bridges that run along the Rhine and the Maas.

It went wrong. A variety of factors played their part, and despite the Allied Troops receiving a hero’s welcome as they made their way through the streets of Oosterbeek and Arnhem, the resistance from the Nazi’s proved too strong, and the backup of troops that were due to arrive never materialised in time, so ultimately, the final bridge at Arnhem, the road bridge, was unable to be captured by battalions that were lead by Lieutenant Colonel John Frost.

‘A Bridge Too Far’ it became known, and with Airborne troops from USA, the UK and Poland being heavily deployed in the region, it was one of the biggest failures of WW2, and not only that, an estimated 17,000 lives were lost on the Allied front.

But, the Gelderlanders did not blame the Allies for the devastation that Arnhem, Nijmegen and Oosterbeek suffered as a result, if anything they were immensely thankful of the fact that every effort had been made to force back the Nazi Invasion, but ultimately the price of failure was huge, and the War was to last for another year.

These things are never ever forgotten, and in Oosterbeek is the Airborne Museum which depicts the story of Operation Market Garden superbly, with some hugely poignant and evocative material. Ultimately it is a memorial to the thousands of Airborne Troops that fought in the area in the War, and I would defy anyone not to feel moved by the stories and images that are there for all to see.

Moving on from Oosterbeek, we travelled back through Arnhem, over the bridge towards Nijmegen before heading for the small town of Groesbeek. Once in Groesbeek we made our way to the National Liberation Museum, which again tells the history of the region through the War, but at the same time focuses on the liberation and the rebuilding of the area. Not only that, a memorial dome contains inside it various logs, the name of every member of the various military batallions that died in the battles, including date, location and cause of death. Many were just reported as ‘lost in action’.

While I had a brief idea of the Gelderland involvement in the War, I didn’t truly understand the full story behind it, including both the human cost and the legacy that was left behind as a result. It had been an inspiring, sobering and humbling day, and only on days like this do you fully appreciate the freedom and liberation we take for granted in our Western World.

Groesbeek was to be our footballing destination as well, and what a fascinating story it is. For a town of 20,000 people, it has an incredibly rich football history, with a real depth to it in terms of the numbers of clubs involved.

Up until two years ago two clubs fought for top level amateur supremacy in the town, namely De Treffers, and tonight’s stop off on our tour, Achilles’29. The two sparred initially in the Hoofdklasse and then the newly formed Topklasse, only for Achilles’29 to accept an invitation from the Dutch FA to join the professional ranks, which the duly took up.

De Treffers were a touch miffed, and started to make noises about joining the Eerstdivisie themselves, but up until now that hasn’t happened, so the boys from Achilles have got the balance of power for the moment.

Beneath those two though are four other amateur teams, namely Germania, DVSG, Groesbeekse Boys and Rood-Wit. It is such a rich town in footballing terms that both TV and the written media have shown great interest in the town and how it has gone on to be so successful in the soccer arena.   

Having sampled a pint or two at a fabulous pub in the town that had its own brewery, we decided to take a walk to the ground, which sits right on the edge of Groesbeek. Fifteen minutes later after buying tickets from the booth outside, we had made our through the turnstiles and found ourselves sitting in the tidy social club.

The ground itself is typical of a Dutch amateur football ground, and I’ve seen one or two over the years at the likes of Spakenburg, Rijnsburgse, and Veenendaal. A small but smart main stand adorns one side, with a covered terrace on the opposite side. The two ends were flat standing, but surprisingly the pitch was of the grass variety, as most amateur clubs opt for an artificial pitch, in fact many of the Eerstdivise clubs have now also gone down the artificial route.

The visitors were high flying FC Volendam, a team that had surprised a few this season by  placing themselves in contention of a promotion spot, whereas Achilles, after a good start to the season, have recently found it something of a struggle and look set to find themselves struggling to stay out of the bottom three. 

To be perfectly frank, the game was awful and had 0-0 written all over it pretty soon after it kicked off. Volendam, as their league position would suggest, looked the better side but they lacked the killer edge in attack to get the all important goal. Achilles on the other hand never looked like scoring and it’s hard to recall them creating a chance of note.

The attendance was given out in the media as 1132, which to be fair is about twice as many as we estimated were in the ground, so I’ve got absolutely no idea where the figure is derived from, but what I would say is that it is done to create a perception across the Dutch nation that the promotion of the club to the professional game has been a success. The jury, for me, is still out on that one. Indeed, we spoke to the Father of one of the Achilles players, and he told us that the players earned around 2000 Euro a month, now times that by 16, and try and work out how 500 or so paying spectators paying 10 Euro every fortnight covers that wage bill? Doesn’t add up does it?

But, despite the poor quality on display, it had been an inspiring day, and an enjoyable evening at the well appointed ground of Achilles’29, maybe, just maybe we might return to Groesbeek one day to pay De Treffers a visit. As we walked back to the car on a cold November night, the streets were quiet and empty, 72 years earlier those streets would have had tanks and troops rolling down them.

Lest we forget.