Retro - Haverfordwest County 0 Newtown 1 (Welsh Premier League - 2015-16)

7^th November 2015

Haverfordwest County   0  Newtown 1  (Welsh Premier League)

I suppose I got what I deserved really!

As last season moved into its final stages it became clear that in Scotland, there was a reasonable chance that Brora Rangers would be promoted to the Scottish League. When I say reasonable chance, I meant a 50/50 chance as they faced a two legged play off with Montrose to determine who would win the right to a place in the Third Division.

It tickled me, purely because if they did it, it would mean that Steve would face a 946 mile round trip from Chesterfield to re-complete things North of the border, and didn’t I just remind him of it. At one stage during the play off it did look as though he was going to have to pack the medication and the Passport, so while the game was in progress I took great pleasure in reminding him of the fact.

Thankfully for Steve, Montrose turned things round and the status quo was maintained, but for a wee while, I had my moment of fun, and Steve, his moment of discomfort.

But then the tables turned, I decided in the Spring that I was going to conquer the Welsh Premier League, and at that stage I just needed Carmarthen Town, but I was also aware that it was highly likely a team would be promoted from the Welsh Football League, and in all fairness it was going to be one of two teams.

The first and most likely candidate was Cardiff Metropolitan University, the second most likely option was Haverfordwest County. What’s the difference you might ask? Well, two hours to be precise, two bloody hours of navigating the M4, and the single lane carriageways to a place that is nearer to Wexford in Ireland than it is my home!

Did I have a preference? Of course I did, and it doesn’t take a genius to work out which! All was looking ok though, Cardiff Metropolitan University had finished their fixtures and had a three point lead at the top of the table, Haverfordwest had one game to go, away at Aberdare Town, and they would need to win by five clear goals to get the promotion spot.

It was a huge ask, and in terms of odds, you wouldn’t bang on it. But by half time it was 4-0, and my mind had moved into the devious World of match fixing, and guess what, Steve was loving it! After all of my attempts to wind him up over Brora, he was now playing the Haverfordwest card with timing that was truly impeccable.

As you can now probably guess, it did finish 5-0, I smelt a dirty great rat, and Steve was happily preparing the AA Route Plan for me, the bastards!

Ok, right, so it was a long way, but I had a plan. Haverfordwest is 45 minutes from Carmarthen, and as I mentioned in my report from the visit to Carmarthen in September, the plan was to combine the two in a weekend, but the fixture Gods were complete bastards and failed to set it up for me. I was going to have to do it in a day, in solitary, and make sure I got to bed early the night before.

I did think when I planned the game a month earlier, that as the time got closer I would find a reason not to do it, to go somewhere else and perhaps shelve it until later in the season, but that didn’t happen. As the week prior came around, and as the days went by, I was really looking forward to it. 

The weather was a bit of a concern so I emailed the club, but more on that later, Haverfordwest County v Newtown was on, and as the alarm went off at 8am on the Saturday morning I was never more ready for the journey into the unknown. It felt a bit like when I went to Lowestoft, but I tried not to dwell on that because I remember how I felt coming back from that place, and it wasn’t great if I’m honest.

So the marathon began, it was plain sailing until around Ross on Wye when the heavens opened as expected, and that continued all the way through Monmouth, onto the M4, and pretty much remained a constant until approaching Swansea, when the blue skies could be seen ahead. Traffic wise it wasn’t too bad, the M4 in the rain was a bit special, but generally speaking it was fine, and justified the early-ish departure. The roads were noticeably quieter once past Swansea and with the sun shining as I came into Carmarthen (bringing back memories) it was just a mere 45 more minutes before I was to reach my destination.

Four hours and fifteen minutes after setting off, I was in the car park at the Bridge Meadow Stadium, eating a Tesco Meal Deal, watching players and officials arriving at the ground. Once in the ground nursing my pint, I got a phone call, it was the Secretary ringing in response to my email to advise that the game today was on! I did politely advise him that I was in the club house watching the players warming up, but I did thank him for at least making the call!

The ground was a good one. As I walked out of the club house I could see a large seated stand on the half way line, and then opposite a long line of Atcost Stands that filled the entire side. Behind both goals it was standing room only, but the club house end housed the dressing rooms, the tea bar, the club shop, and two glass fronted viewing boxes that are often commonplace at Welsh Premier League grounds. It did of course have the obligatory TV gantry as well, with a glass fronted press box beneath it.

The pitch was in decent condition, albeit the grass was a touch long, and in fairness to the club officials they were a really sound bunch. The ground itself is used quite regularly for minor International fixtures, and is a testament to the excellent facilities the club has available.

Was the game any good then? It was ok, Haverfordwest missed a first minute penalty for handball and for the most part were the better side, however, as usually happens when you are in the lower reaches of the league, the visitors scored with a close range header after 88 minutes, and it was game over. The defeat saw the hosts slump to the bottom of the table, but to be honest, they didn’t look a particularly bad side, they just need someone who can put the ball in the net. Standard wise it was of a reasonable quality, probably on a par with high end Step 3 and possibly even lower end Step 2 in England.

Then of course came the journey home, the bit I had kind of dreaded after feeling like I wanted to slit my wrists on the way back from Lowestoft, but to be fair it was ok, in fact it was better than ok, I actually quite enjoyed it. I think that was because firstly I knew what to expect, secondly because it was pretty quiet on the roads so I could relax, listen to the radio and not get stressed, but thirdly, because of the sense of achievement, I had finally done all of the leagues in Wales I wanted to complete, namely the WPL and the Cymru Alliance.

Of course, after four hours of driving, and a with a can of lager nestled in my right mitt, I sat on the sofa only to hear my phone bleep, it was a text message from Steve.

“Have you got back from Ireland yet mate??” He who laughs last and all that…………………..

Retro - Carrick Rangers 1 Coleraine 2 (Northern Ireland Premiership - 2015-16)

10^th October 2015

Carrick Rangers   1  Coleraine  2  (Northern Ireland Premiership)

Being something of a nerd when it comes to competing things, I finally cracked the Northern Ireland Premiership when I got to Warrenpoint Town in March last season (my last 0-0 draw incidentally). But within a month I had got a new name on my list courtesy of Carrick Rangers late surge in the promotion race from the First Division. I had hoped Bangor would do it due my connection with Trevor Best, the club chairman, but it was not to be, so one of the more traditional Irish clubs had made it to the top flight. They were in the top flight a few years ago but due to inadequacies with their Taylor’s Avenue ground, they played for a solitary season at Crusaders before being relegated again.

I managed to plan the trip to coincide with Derry City v Bray Wanderers the previous evening, and that in itself meant I could catch up with John Coyle and his family once again. It finished 3-1 and after the game we had a bit of a session at the Derry Oktoberfest!

I was relatively bright and breezy on the Saturday morning and managed to make my way to the Foyle Bus Station for the 9.30am bus back to Belfast, and courtesy of that I was well in time for the 11.45am train from Great Victoria Street to Carrickfergus. The forty minute journey was a pleasant one, travelling via Whiteabbey and Jordanstown, along the coast until the Whitehead bound train pulled into the old fashioned station at Carrickfergus.

As you walk out of the station you take a straight route in the direction of the sea front, passing the shopping areas and then finally appearing with the impressive sight of Carrickfergus Castle directly in front of you. The castle is set on the harbour and the marina is adjacent to it, it did strike me as a popular tourist destination, and after a brief walk round I decided to decamp in the nearby Wetherspoons for some pre-match refreshments.

Some Coleraine fans were already in the pub, and over the course of a couple of Heineken’s I was able to reflect on my visits to Northern Ireland over the past ten years. It all started at Cliftonville, and has since then take in some memorable games, such as the problematic  Linfield v Derry City Setanta Cup tie, the Coleraine v Ballymena United derby fixture, and of course the contentious Crusaders v Donegal Celtic game on St Patricks Day! Happy memories, I am never happier than when I am in Ireland, yet the feeling between being in the North and South is very different, albeit very hard to explain.

I tried another couple of pubs en route to the ground and then as I ventured along Taylor’s Avenue I spied the murals that bedeck the wall on the approach. Amongst team photo’s and shots of silverware being raised, I noticed programme covers from games against Aris Bonnevoie of Luxembourg and Southampton in the European Cup Winners Cup of 1976. This was perhaps Rangers proudest moment, the culmination of a victory over the mighty Linfield in the Irish Cup Final. Indeed the club refers to the ‘Spirit of 76’ in its history and a wall inside the ground is painted with the same slogan.

Taylor’s Avenue is a proper old football ground, and still retains traces of the seventies and eighties, notably with the perimeter security fencing that remains behind where the dug outs once where. Northern Ireland was no different to England in the aforementioned era, pitch invasions and crowd disorder were commonplace so segregation and security were paramount, however, add into that the backdrop of the Troubles in the North and what that bought to the equation, then we were dealing with a bit of a powderkeg!

The old stand is a fantastic structure, but it’s seen better days. The seats are old style school plastic efforts that have been bolted to the wooden frame, while foliage is growing in through the corrugated iron rear wall and also through the roof. Behind the far goal is come covered terracing that also doubles up as an away end when required, while the remaining two sides are just hard standing.

A small clubhouse exists just outside the turnstiles but it only sold cans, whereas if you wanted food it was the burger van that provided it. The welcome was friendly, it was a tenner to get in, and they did a pretty decent programme as well. As for the form guide, Coleraine were on a decent run and sat fourth, while Carrick after an indifferent spell were fourth from bottom.

The game went pretty much true to form on a glorious Autumn afternoon. Coleraine scored with a headed goal after just 30 seconds, but Carrick did equalise with a screaming effort from the edge of the box.

Coleraine got a deserved second goal from a rebound in the second half, and despite the visitors going a man down in the closing stages, Carrick had plenty of possession but couldn’t find a way through. I would have estimated the crowd at around 400, with getting on for half of those having travelled from the North West.

At the final whistle it was back into town for a pint, before the train back into Belfast and ultimately to check into the B&B just off of the Lisburn Road. I went to a couple of pubs on Lisburn Road and also grabbed something to eat, it wasn’t overly busy but then after Northern Ireland’s stunning victory over Greece a couple of nights earlier that meant they qualified for Euro 2016, I should imagine many are somewhat partied out!

So, Limerick completed the top two divisions in the Republic back in August, and now Carrick has completed the top flight in the North, so I guess that begs the question what next? Well I will come back to the North in March / April and take in a game along with another match at Derry on the Friday. I’ve got seven of the fourteen grounds in the First Division to have a crack at now, and the one that appeals to me most is Inver Park at Larne, or possibly Ballyclare Comrades or Loughall? I will have to see what the fixtures bring. Then of course what might change in the League of Ireland? 

Rumours suggest St Kevin’s Boys from North Dublin may join, but all will be revealed over the coming months.

That said, another great weekend, and as I settled with a final pint in the Bushmills Bar at City Airport on Sunday afternoon, I can reflect on the fact that it’s another great one for the memory banks, I’m sure there is a book in me somewhere!

Retro - Whitchurch Alport 1 Litherland Remyca 1 (North West Counties League Division One - 2015-16)

7^th October 2015

Whitchurch Alport   1  Litherland Remyca  1  (North West Counties League Division One)

Sometimes you arrive at a new ground and think ‘yes’, and that’s because you instantly realise that you have landed at what I would term as a proper football ground. By that, what I mean is your first and overriding impression is that you have uncovered something traditional, something unique, and not in any way one of the all too commonplace modern efforts with characterless furniture and structures.

Whitchurch Alport fell very much into that category, it felt traditional, it felt and looked unique in the sense that you won’t find another one like it anywhere else, I knew I was at a proper ground, and I also knew that whatever the game threw up, I would enjoy my evening.

Whitchurch were a relatively late addition to the list this season. They didn’t initially apply for promotion from the Mercian League to Step Six, but then put in a last minute application. The application was rejected for a variety of reasons, but then when it came to light that the Football Association had adopted a policy of double standards by allowing clubs into Step 6 who had almost identical backgrounds, notably in Kent, then it became clear that Whitchurch’s inevitable appeal would be upheld and they would be accepted into the North West Counties League.

The truth is, for a town of its size, a ground of its quality, and a club of Alport’s stature, it was criminal that they should be floundering in the Mercian League no mans land. Finally, they were going to be at a level they should at least be competing at.

Whitchurch isn’t the easiest place to get to, especially when you are travelling from Doncaster. The A50 to Stoke, especially around Uttoxeter is a pinch point, while the A500 once in Stoke is far from ideal at rush hour. You then have to trot through various villages of Staffordshire and indeed Shropshire to get to Whitchurch, which in fairness, is not too far from the Welsh border, and would explain why in years gone by they have competed in the Welsh Cup! Talking of Wales, I did wonder whether I could have got to Haverfordwest quicker!

Once parked up on the road outside the ground, and having walked down to the turnstiles, I was impressed. They had proper turnstiles, they had a wonderful old wooden stand on one side with some recently built cover opposite. They had a clubhouse and tea bar adjacent to the stand, while the only sense of modernity were the floodlights that are a recently installed four pylon variety as is now becoming commonplace. I was delighted to see that not a single Meccano/Atcost stand was in situ anywhere on the Yockings Park site, it was indeed a breath of fresh air.

This was Whitchurch’s first game under lights in the North West Counties League, and as a result the great and the good from the Football Travelling community were in attendance. I chatted to Andy Marnoch and Nick Willis in particular, gents from Uxbridge and Stoke, but in fairness of a crowd of 86, I would estimate 20/30 would have been of a neutral persuasion. The club were I suspect, expecting something of an influx of hoppers, so everything was catered for, food, drink, programmes, and even free copies of a North West Non-League Football magazine. The welcome was also very friendly, and the club were genuinely appreciative of the fact they had generated so much interest.

It was a chilly evening, and the pitch was a touch bobbly, so as is often the case, the game didn’t really inspire. Whitchurch were well organised, but so far without a win all season, whereas Litherland were having a better season and looked to have a bit more in the fire power department, combined with the all too predictable Liverpudlian ‘edge’ that is as much reality as it is stereotypical.

The game was 0-0 at half time, and two late goals saw it finish 1-1, probably a fair result, and at the same time, it meant Whitchurch were still without a win and added to their substantial number of draws.

The journey back was straightforward and uneventful, but whereas some evening returns from games can be a bit of a chore, this wasn’t, and I think it was probably because I was content in the knowledge that I’d uncovered a bit of a gem.

Retro - Rhayader Town 0 Holyhead Hotspur 4 (Cymru Alliance - 2015-16)

19^th September 2015

Rhayader Town   0  Holyhead Hotspur  4  (Cymru Alliance)

As I threw the curtains wide at the Boars Head, it was a misty morning in Carmarthen, but the bacon was cooking, and in fairness, only the slightest traces of any form of hangover seemed to be in the air. It was almost time to bid a fond farewell to West Wales, and head up through the mountains to Mid Wales, to the picturesque market town of Rhayader.

Any sort of journey through Wales will invariably be a scenic one, perhaps sections of the M4 and the A55 excepted, and the run up to Rhayder was indeed beautiful. This is of course the double edged sword that is in effect the Welsh Premier League, because as much as journies between the grounds are lovely from an aesthetic point of view, in terms of the time taken for the distance travelled, it really could not be any worse. It took me nearly an hour and three quarters to drive just over 50 miles to Rhayader, but the section between Llandovery and Llanwrtyd Wells alone made it worth the journey, simply spectacular views across the valleys towards Sugar Loaf mountain.

Once in Rhayader I was early, inevitably, so having parked the car up at the ground I had a little wander into the town itself. It was a busy place, with the focal point being the monument on the crossroads in the centre. Not much shopping wise could be done, I guess if you want anything of any note then off to Newtown or Llandrindod Wells you must go, just the essentials really in Rhayader.

Talking of essentials, the pubs were open, and I settled for the GBG listed Cornhill Hotel, where a lengthy perusal of the sports pages of the local paper (The County Times) told me all I needed to know about current affairs in the Mid Wales footballing World, it put many local papers to shame really.

With kick off an hour away, it was time to embark on the final journey of a quest that started back in August 2008 when I discovered my first game in the Cymru Alliance, on that occasion it was at Gresford Athletic. I probably thought at the time it wouldn’t take me too long to polish it off, and I guess each year new teams come in that need visiting, but this time, seven and a half years later, for the first time ever I can say I’ve done it!

And boy, I didn’t half save the best until last!

A combination of a traditional old football ground, with good yet rustic facilities, along with spectacular views of the mountains, meant this was a place that is a real must for any football ground enthusiast. I simply loved it. The clubhouse was somewhat antiquated and the beer was in cans only, they did no hot food, but that didn’t really matter to me. The old stand backed onto the tight dressing rooms, while another smaller seated stand sat behind the goal, some distance from the pitch.

The two other sides were hemmed in tightly by tall trees, and it was over the top of these trees that the stunning vista of the mountains could be observed. Rhayader are nicknamed the Red Kites, thanks to the fact that the town is now well known for it’s Red Kite feeding station, and as an added bonus, just after half time, numerous birds of this type could be seen hovering above the ground. While not the biggest of birds, as they hovered in the sky, they did look pretty special.

The game was very good. Rhayader for an hour were the equal of Holyhead, but when you are bottom of the league things simply don’t happen for you. Despite all of their first half possession, it was the visitors who went in with a 1-0 lead thanks to a great strike from the edge of the box.

Both sides had a player sent off early in the second period for a ‘rutting’ incident, which seemed to go against Rhayader because at this point they had the lions share of play again, and looked likely to grab an equaliser. But the player they lost, Asa Hamilton, was the man most threatening for the hosts, and with his departure (and he didn’t go quietly), went any semblance of a goal.

Holyhead got a second, and then quickly got two more to seal an emphatic victory. It wasn’t a 4-0 game, but sadly for Rhayader, while they played some decent stuff, they definitely lacked something in front of goal. Hamilton looked like he could make a difference, but he was too distracted by the various battles he was involved in. That ultimately resulted in his red card.

I hope Rhayader survive, I chatted to the Treasurer who was working the tea bar, he told me that they had increased the ‘expenses’ budget this season to try and attract players from slightly further afield to keep them in the league. And therein lies the problem for Mid Wales clubs, and perhaps explains why last season both Llanidloes and Llandrindod went down, with Rhayader only just surviving. The towns themselves are so small, and travelling time from the greater areas of population is significant, so attracting the better players to travel and play for you is going to cost money. Hamilton for example, was travelling from Wrexham, which is an hour and three quarters away, it’s a long way to go, especially when he has a significant number of clubs on his doorstep, mind you, they’re probably all sick of him!

So that was it, a champagne job, I’ve now completed leagues in three Countries (England, Ireland and Wales), with a fourth due next month (Northern Ireland). I have to say though, I don’t think I’ll ever tire of visiting Wales, just a case now of seeing who else comes into the league at the end of the season...if no one does, I’ll just have to find a new league to have a crack at.

The Mid Wales League anyone? 

Retro - Carmarthen Town 0 Aberystwyth Town 3 (Welsh Premier League - 2015-16)

18^th September 2015

Carmarthen Town   0  Aberystwyth Town  3  (Welsh Premier League)

“And we were singing, Hymns and Arias, Land of my Fathers, Ar Hyd Y Nos”

That was the song that was running through my head as the M4 swept past Neath and around the edges of Swansea. Of course, watch any Swansea City game on the TV and you will hear it loud and clear, but for those not of a Welsh persuasion, you would be forgiven for thinking that it was some hymn of old that had been resurrected at the Liberty Stadium.

Not at all, very much like the Irish “Fields of Athenry”, “Hymns and Arias” is quite a modern song and only over a more recent era has it found it’s way to the football terraces. The song itself was penned by Max Boyce and was originally about Welsh rugby fans making the bi-annual pilgramage to Twickenham for the international. To be fair, it is actually a humourous effort, that has seen the man himself create further different versions to celebrate varying occasions over recent years, such as the hosting of the Rugby World Cup and Swansea being promoted to the Premier League.

I found myself singing it in the car as the first signs for Carmarthen appeared up ahead, the long journey was almost over. I decided at the back end of last season that I was going to complete the Welsh Premier League, and at the time the only ground I needed was Carmarthen Town. However, due to a somewhat unusual final day result for Haverfordwest County, they were promoted ahead of Cardiff Met University from the Welsh Football League, which meant two trips to West Wales as opposed to the one.

The plan was simple, do one on a Friday, the other on a Saturday and the job will be done on one trip! Not so, Haverfordwest is another 45 minuntes on from Carmarthen, and Carmarthen is almost four hours from home, the footballing fixture Gods were not so kind and as it turned out I was not going to be able to double them up. Haverfordwest will have to wait for another day.

But, with my final Cymru Alliance ground, at Rhayader Town, playing on the Saturday, it was certainly a trip worth making on a Friday, and gave me the opportunity to spend some time in Carmarthen, an area of Wales I have not visited since I was a very small child taking holidays in Saundersfoot.

The journey had been trouble free, a bit of a queue around Monmouth and some slow traffic on the M4 between Newport and Cardiff were the only slight trouble spots. Carmarthen, and my hotel car park  were arrived in just after 1pm, it was time to explore. I’d done my research and discovered that the town itself, while not unattractive, didn’t have an awful lot about it to hold the tourists attention for too long. An impressive County Hall, a small castle ruin, and the River Towy were about as picturesque as it got. The town centre was fine, busy, and while not excatly rammed with pubs, it had enough to keep me entertained.

The Queens Hotel, Yr Hen Dderwen, my residence for the night The Boars Head, The Coracle Tavern and The Mansel Arms all provided suitable libation, none of which though were overly populated. A number of Irish Rugby fans were in town, they were clearly stopping en route to the Millenium Stadium for the following days game against Canada in the World Cup.

After a little rest late afternoon, it was soon time to make the short walk through the town centre to Richmond Park. The home of Carmarthen Town is very much a town centre ground, easily accessible with plenty of car parking. It’s a tidy venue, but not a venue with much character. A large black and gold seated stand adorns one side, while opposite is the two storey club house which offers a glass fronted viewing galary for the ‘corporate’ spectator!

Behind both goals are flat standing areas, albeit one of them has the club shop located, which is sight to behold. Built in the style of a ghetto blaster, the appearance was somewhat more interesting than the contents!

A healthy crowd of over 400 had made an appearance, the best of the season for what is effectively a local derby against West Coast rivals Aberystwyth. Included in the crowd was Colin Picken and his wife, and it was Colin who I spoke to about this very game at my first match of the season at Hall Road Rangers. I managed to catch up briefly with Colin at half time and chew the fat.

But, chew the fat about the game we didn’t because it was awful. A lot of huff and puff, but very little in terms of quality and goal mouth action. The second half did improve a little though, and after Aberystwyth took the lead, it was pretty clear that Carmarthen were completely bereft of ideas as to how to break down the resolute visitors defence.

Two late goals gave the scoreline a pretty flattering look, but in all fairness Aber were the deserved winners because quite simply they took the chances that came their way.

It was back to one of the pubs after the game to watch the dying embers of the England v Fiji game in the World Cup, a few inebriated Welsh Rugby fans were insitu, making a spectacle of themselves, and while stood at the bar I had a little encounter with one of them. A chap carrying an inflatable sheep came over to me, eyes going in different directions, this, I thought, could go any numbers of ways....

“Do you want a photo with me and my sheep?” was his request?

Before I had time to answer, he had his arm around my shoulders and a blow up sheep was wedged between us, I looked up and saw another boyo taking our photograph. Quite clearly, I am never going to get a copy of this photo, and to be honest I don’t especially want it to see the light of day, so why he asked me if I wanted a photo with him and his sheep is anyones guess. So a bit like the inflatable sheep, it was clearly for his own personal use only!

But as the aforementioned gentleman, and his sheep, left the pub, he burst into song..

“And we were singing, Hymns and Arias......”

Retro - Billingham Synthonia 2 Ryton & Crawcrook Albion 0 (Northern League Division Two - 2015-16)

12th August 2015

Billingham Synthonia  2  Ryton & Crawcrook Albion  0 (Northern League Division Two)

Little known fact time – Billingham Synthonia are the only club in the World to be named after an agricultural fertiliser!

The ‘Synthonia’ part of their name is anyway, in the sense that it is a contraction of Synthetic Ammonia, a product made by ICI and a company the club has had close links with.

I’m no chemist, but while the name Synthonia does sound quite nice, I should imagine the substance itself is far from pleasant, wearing gloves, goggles and a face mask is probably a pre-requisite of dealing with the stuff. But then we are in Middlesbrough, the home of the ‘Smog Monsters’ as they are affectionately referred to by their fellow North East rivals, a City where chemicals, heavy industry and probably a fair degree of noxious fall out was once commonplace.

For some bizarre reason Rach was happy for me to go out for another evening of football, and whereas the game at West Auckland the night before was an hour away, I could make it to Billingham in around 45 minutes so not feel quite so far away from them, certainly not like I had done on the Tuesday when all I wanted to do in the end was get back. That said, when the fixtures for the Northern League came out, this was always on the radar and the Tuesday only entered into the equation at the last minute, so unless she had put her foot down, this was always going to happen anyway.

I was really curious about this one, I recall Billingham Synthonia from my early days of becoming interested in non-league football. Obviously the quirky name helped, but also, I recall from seeing pictures in directories and guide books that they had a simply awesome stand at the ground, that still remains, and is considered one of the iconic landmarks of non-league football, not only in the North East, but in the Country itself.

The journey was a simple one, back up the A174 to the A19 and then up a couple of junctions to the Billingham exit. From there it’s simply across a few roundabouts and the ground sits nicely on the left hand side of Central Drive. The dwellings in the locality are synonymous with the kind of housing you would expect in an area associated with heavy industry, and while old and somewhat tired, it certainly didn’t feel intimidating or by any means rough. Just traditional, honest, working class areas, in the shadow of the huge industrial landscape that sprawls along the North bank of the Tees into Middlesbrough.

Once inside, the size of that famous old stand hits you full in the face, what a magnificent structure it is. It straddles the full length of the pitch, and it’s the only form of spectator accommodation at the ground, while underneath lies the huge ‘Synners Bar’ the dressing rooms and the tea bar. The centre of the stand is taken up with seats, while either flank is terraced with crush barriers. The paddock below is also standing but sloped rather than terraced. It is truly a magnificent sight.

The pitch itself was in magnificent shape, and on a lovely night, with shadows being cast across the surface, it was one of those alter-idyllic settings for watching a game of football. Not your typical Porthmadog type mountainous scenery, but a harsh yet beautiful venue with surroundings that conjured up similar feelings, but in a totally different way. People laughed at me when I went to Runcorn Town and talked about the sheer beauty of a ground set amongst Oil Refinery’s, well this was similar, not quite as hemmed in by the industry as Runcorn, but compensated by the fact that the stand itself felt almost like an extension, or indeed a monument to the nearby steelworks.

Sometimes you forget you have gone to watch a football match, so engrossed in the venue you become, but I had, and it was to be a shock to the system for the Synners as it was their first home game in the Second Division of the Northern League since the 1986-87 campaign, having been relegated at the end of last season.

The Synners have historically been one of the top teams in the Northern League, but my thoughts are that when teams with such strong links to the local industry, as Synthonia have, find that economic times are getting tough, it gets harder for them as the industry that once supported them ceases to do so, or certainly to the level it once did. Furthermore, as that industry employed a big chunk of their support, and they fell on hard times personally or indeed moved away, the support base erodes.

All in all, a once big name, if now just that, a big name, because on the pitch they are miles away from where they once were, winning Championships and hosting league clubs in the FA Cup. It’s a shame, but times move on and the ground remains perhaps the only semblance of any authority and prowess the club once had in the Northern League.

The game wasn’t a patch on the previous evening’s entertainment. Synthonia beat visiting Ryton 2-0 at pretty much a canter, it wasn’t a great spectacle, but it was a case of job done for the home side. I would suggest a crowd of just over 100 was in attendance, and that after the club were pretty active with their Social Media based marketing in terms of trying to boost the gate by admitting children for free.

They do retain a hard core support though, who wear the shirts and the scarves, and in fairness they do take pride in their facilities, as everywhere was clean and tidy, but from reading the programme you can just see how close the club came in the summer to going out of existence. The previous Chairman decided to call it a day, and for a while the club had no direction and it seemed a new leader was not going to be forthcoming. However, one did, a management team was installed and now at least some stability has been restored, so perhaps getting back to former glories on the pitch isn’t really the number one priority right now, just having a club to support is more important.

Clubs like Billingham Sythonia, and grounds like Central Avenue are part of the fabric of amateur and latterly, semi-professional football in this Country. What makes it doubly hard is being located in the industrial North East, once a hot bed, it is now an area that is economically depressed and in some areas, socially deprived, so you do wonder what the future holds for clubs like them.

But for now, that wonderful old structure remains in all its glory, I suspect though, it won’t be around forever. But then again, maybe if the demand for Synthetic Ammonia spirals……..

Retro - Hartlepool United 2 Morecambe 0 (Football League Division Two - 2015-16)

8th August 2015

Hartlepool United  2  Morecambe  0 (Football League Division Two)

No more than a couple of times in a season an opportunity presents itself whereby I can knock another Football League ground of the list.

A long time planned holiday in Staithes meant that one of the very few League grounds in the North could be ticked off, but it meant a bit of luck falling my way with the fixtures. I’ve only got Carlisle, Morecambe, Blackpool, Burnley and Hartlepool to do in the North, and with all bar Hartlepool being on the West side, I had one chance at it!

As luck would have it, opening day of the season and they were at home, tickets were sorted over the phone, just a case now of finding something to keep Rachael and George entertained in the morning!

My knowledge of Hartlepool is minimal, I did drive through it in my student days en route to Seaton Carew with my old mates Craig and Suzy, but it don’t recall it being too appealing a place to visit. That said, a quick look on the web and it became clear that the refurbished Hartlepool Marina, adjacent to the ground, was the place to go in Hartlepool, in fact, to be fair, it was the only place to go in Hartlepool!

And a very nice place it was too, with a museum, exhibitions, film shows and the chance to wander round HMS Trincomalee. It didn’t start well though, George decided to put is head into the stocks so he could have his photo taken, except the holes were not designed for heads, they were designed for arms and legs…yes, the old adage about what goes in must come out, failed him!

Panic set it, George’s head was stuck, I tried to lift the stocks but they wouldn’t separate, George was getting a bit distressed, as was Rach, she asked me to get help. I found a Pirate, who was very helpful, and he calmly eased his head out, but being a Pirate he didn’t do it quietly, he gave a running commentary, and by now an audience had gathered to look at the little boy who’s head was stuck in the stocks.

I was torn between concern and embarrassment, but George was ok, apart from the fact he had a couple of small scratches on his forward where indeed ‘X’ did mark the spot! He was a bit quiet afterwards, I could tell Rach was a bit shook up, I just wish I’d taken control of the situation and eased his head out with the same minimal fuss that the Pirate had shown, then at least we wouldn’t have provided a sideshow for the visitors to the Hartlepool Maritme Experience, at least not one they were expecting!

The area around the Victoria Ground isn’t too appealing, so after parking up in a convenient Pay and Display we made our way to the seats in the family section, it was a beautiful day and I have to say the ground was quite a nice one. We sat to the right hand end of the Cyril Knowles Main Stand, whereas a taller, albeit not full length stand was opposite with paddock style terracing in front. Behind the goal to our right was the away end, and that was all seated, while behind the opposite goal was covered terracing.

The atmosphere was very good, the more vocal Hartlepool element stood in the paddock, and positioned themselves as near to the away fans as they could get, not that I would imagine too many visiting fans pack out the away end very often. Morecambe bought a couple of hundred with them and made plenty of noise, but I shouldn’t imagine too many will bring much more, probably the likes of Carlisle and York, maybe even Portsmouth.

As a club, I’ve always been quite interested in their history, not least because the great Mr Clough started his managerial career their before he went on to Derby County. But another quirk with them is the fact that over the past fifty years they have had three different names.

They started out as Hartlepools United, but then dropped the ‘s’ and indeed the ‘United’ to become plain old Hartlepool. It appears this was due to some changing of boundaries in the town, but in 1977 they added the ‘United’ back again and Hartlepool United they remain.

Otherwise, the clubs history has really been one of surviving, and indeed remaining in the Football League. Along with Rochdale and Halifax Town they have had to endure the most re-election campaigns prior to automatic promotion and relegation was put in place. In May 1984 they recorded a home crowd of just 740 for a game against Stockport County.

Moving to more recent times, at one stage last season they looked doomed to drop out of the league, and after losing a home FA Cup tie to Blyth Spartans of the Evo-Stik League, the future looked bleak. But a strong late run, saw them ease out of the relegation zone and consign both Tranmere Rovers and Cheltenham Town to the Conference.

Most famous fan, Jeff Stelling, was a happy man, and then in the Summer it was all change with new owners coming on board, record season ticket sales of over 3,000, and a renewed optimism under Ronnie Moore.

They played well, taking a first half lead through Billy Paynter, and then a second goal in the second period came via Rakish Bingham. Morecambe had their chances though, the woodwork denied them on more than one occasion and indeed I don’t ever recall a team having the ball in the oppositions penalty area as much as they did, without actually scoring.

In the end though, Hartlepool took their chances, and on that basis deserved the win, and while I’m not sure they will be a promotion contender this season, I don’t think they are going to have too many worries about the trap door.

4,289 paid to watch it, a considerable difference from the dark days of May 1984.

The get away was easy, and soon we were on our way out of Hartlepool and on the A19 towards base camp just North of Whitby. It had been quite a day, not least due to the fact that George had to be rescued by a Pirate on the Trincomalee, for that reason alone, Hartlepool United and league ground number 73 will live long in the memory!