Football is in its infancy, an amateur game dominated
by the upper class teams who invented its rules.
Arthur Kinnaird, the captain of the Old Etonians, has
played in more FA Cup Finals than any other player, and won the cup three
times.
Until 1879, no working class team had ever reached the
Quarter Finals of the FA Cup.
And so begins The English Game, Netflix’s historical
drama on the early days of association football and how it moved from the
public schools to bfellecome ‘the working class game’ it has been perceived to be
ever since. Developed by Julian Fellowes (of Downton Abbey fame), the six-part
series places its focus on two figures at opposite ends of the social scale; the
aforementioned (future Lord) Kinnaird and Fergus Suter; a Scottish player who moves
south in the pursuit of fortune.
After codifying a set of rules from the various forms of
football played throughout the country, the Football Association quickly
recognised that their game needed a ‘Challenge Cup’ to take place for its members. Initially featuring alumni from public schools, the FA Cup opened
up to include teams from working class towns and cities to broaden the game’s
appeal. Competing was difficult for the working class, however – as their
players had shift work for 6 days-a-week, travelling south to meet these
well-honed Gentlemen and beat them in a match was a difficult prospect. Then
local business owners hit upon the idea of compensating their players for loss
time so they could take time off work to practice – something that the
Gentlemen objected to, and quickly outlawed the practice…
The story initially focuses on Suter's move to the Lancashire mill town
of Darwen, and the football team's Quarter-Final clash against Kinnaird's
Old Etonians. Later, the series charts Suter's move to Darwen's rivals 'Blackburn' (a composite team of Blackburn Rovers and Blackburn Olympic) – bringing into focus the growing professionalism in the game and the northern clubs' ambition to establish themselves as leaders on the pitch.
Although the series plays fast-and-loose with some
historical facts (more about this is an upcoming blog post), the detail in
which they go to present a genuine 19th century spectacle
should be admired. Aside from things like the costumes and social etiquette
being portrayed to a tee (again, no surprise, what with it involving Julian
Fellowes), they didn’t compromise anything to present a realistic portrayal of
what the play would have looked like. I particularly enjoyed a reference to
Arthur Kinnaird’s ‘handstand’ goal celebration – which I saw at the National Football Museum recently.
Kinnaird (played by Edward Holcroft) is arguably the main
driver of the story as his outlook on life changes from someone willing to gain
an advantage any way he can, to someone who is willing to lose if it means to
play fair – as a proper Gentlemen should. Conversely, Suter (Kevin Guthrie)
is the working class hero that seems to be more of a Gentleman – despite him
wrestling with guilt at being a professional footballer, whilst his Darwen teammates get nothing. The rest of the plot
features Kinnaird and his wife’s attempts to have children, Suter’s REAL reason
for moving south, his relationships with the locals, the labour conditions of the era and the attitude of the
upper class towards their game being uspured by the working class.
As for the play presented in the series, the most successful
tactics of the time seemed to involve a ‘kick and crowd’ style – reminiscent of
what rugby union came to be. Working class teams tended to play the
‘combination game’ (a major reason being that they were not as ‘conditioned’ to
play the same way as upper class teams was because they couldn’t train anywhere near as much. So the passing lets the ball do the running, solidifying football as a quick, fast-moving, exciting game to watch). This was explained well in the series, as the
attitude towards the play of the working class was summed up by one of the Old
Etonians who said “All that absurd
passing, it’s nonsense”. How times change!
A major criticism I have of the series is that it leant too much
on placing upper class characters as villains. Whilst I do not doubt that many
of them did hold the attitude that was shown, I doubt that it
would have been as widespread as it seemed to be. Another aspect that needed focusing on
was the businessmen who bankrolled these teams – they’re portrayed as benevolent
champions of the working class when in reality, it was a means to generate
money (for most of them). Having an upper
class vs. working class conflict, with clear positions defined on both sides,
just feels a bit cartoonish.
Another issue that I’d like to pick up on is a plot point
involving Suter’s reason for moving away from Glasgow to make his money – it has
no basis in reality and simply acts as a motivation for his character. Even
though these events happened some 140 years ago, it felt somewhat disrespectful
to (potentially) besmirch the name of a real, historical family just to give a character some depth.
Overall, The English Game is a decent-enough binge-watch but
ultimately feels like a missed opportunity to explore the social impact of the
game in the depth that it deserves. It feels very-much like a cut-and-shut of the
intricacies of early football and the domestics of Downton Abbey – and it could
have easily done without the latter. Concentrating solely on the football would
have made for a great vehicle for a feature film and I hope one day that we get
to see something like it.
Amateur football is the lifeblood of the game. Whilst the
professionals play for the glory, the money and the rest of trappings that
follow, we have to pay subs just to be booted around a waterlogged pitch.
Nevertheless, despite amateur football seeming like a futile
activity for many of us, it actually helps to incubate our love of the game;
growing teamwork, friendships and sometimes, just sometimes, memories of
fleeting great play that puts us on a par with the professionals for a
spilt-second.
So no matter if you’re a seasoned veteran of the
Saturday/Sunday (or whatever day) League football, or you’re new to the game; a
wide-eyed youth with plenty of years ahead, here are some things that you will (probably)
have or will experience:
Many teams will have a BIG LAD who takes all of the
free-kicks, corners and penalties. Nobody else. Just the BIG LAD. (And woe betide
anyone who gets in his way).
There will be someone who thinks they are the lovechild of Cristiano
Ronaldo and Lionel Messi. Trying outrageous kicks, tricks and flicks until
they’re scythed down by the aforementioned BIG LAD.
There will always be some granddad playing who thinks he’s
rolling back the years by playing with youngsters, but just looks weird in a
tight-fitting shirt.
The granddad will still be better at football than you.
Many of the players will be playing under a name that isn’t
their own.
‘Medical/Physio facilities’ will consist of a bucket of
water and if you’re lucky, a bottle of supermarket own-brand deep heat.
People drinking cans and having cigs at the side of the
pitch. (As do the players at half-time).
Dogs will run onto the pitch.
The pitch will always be waterlogged in parts, no matter the
time of year.
Not all players on the team will have matching shirts.
If you’re lucky enough to get a matching shirt, it will be
caked in mud from previous games.
Two footed tackles not only happen, but are actively
encouraged.
The referee will rarely break into a sprint.
Great goalkeepers are rare.
The goalkeeper will often change with an outfield player.
The goalkeeper will often go up for a corner/take a
free-kick/penalty, regardless if their team is losing by a single goal or ten.
Managers fall into two camps: they will either think they
are Pep Guardiola and will constantly bark out incomprehensible instructions or
not be bothered and instead, will be indulging in the aforementioned cans and
cigs.
The Pep wannabes and those who aren’t bothered will be
connected by their formation of choice: 4-4-2.
A warm-up will consist of booting the ball as hard as you
can towards the goal.
You look forward to an away game – especially if it’s at
‘your ground’ (as you won’t have to put up the nets).
When you do have to put up the nets, the lack of a
stepladder will mean jumping on someone’s shoulders to get the top of the net in
place.
The referee will swear, swig and smoke just as much as the
players do.
Those were my top things you will have (probably) experienced
in amateur football. Got any of your own? Leave them in the comments below or
Tweet @pints_pies.
I think it speaks
volumes about the renitence of our country that football games have only been
suspended in times of war – indeed, the First World War was a year-old before
the football season was halted. As football is engrained in our culture, it was
used to act as a vessel of our defiance; no,
we will not be cowed and change our way of life for you.
Whilst we’re not at
war with any other nation today (thankfully), we are ‘at war’ with something
else – the COVID-19 virus. This new infectious disease has wreaked havoc around
the world, putting a stop to public events – including, as of yesterday, all
professional football in Britain.
Faced with nothing to
do of a weekend, many of us are lost. So I decided to play it safe; instead of
fighting people for the last pack of bog roll in the supermarket, I instead made
the 20-minute bus journey to Ashton-in-Makerfield to see Ashton Town take on
Holker Old Boys in the North West Counties League Division One North.
Now, let’s get one thing clear here – I fully support the decision
to suspend professional matches. Whilst I suspect that the decision was sealed when several players and
coaches got infected (or went into isolation), you can’t really deal
with a pandemic by having tens of thousands of people gather in one place, all
over the country. The people most at risk are the elderly or those with pre-existing
illnesses (a bit like seasonal flu – but it isn’t flu, it’s more aggressive,
and there’s no vaccine), so it’s only right that we take measures to protect
the most vulnerable – but whilst we need to take it seriously, we need to be
calm too.
My issue is that people are panicking without due cause
(it’s not like the Second World War when the prospect of a bomb dropping on
your house was real) – the aforementioned fighting-for-bog-roll isn’t a joke,
it’s actually happening. Exacerbated by the instant communications we have
these days, people are being somewhat hysterical – even if they ever have a
right to be, causing panic will only make things worse, leading to rash
decisions that sees them bulk buy groceries or worse, put people in danger
because of pure selfishness. What’s that war motto (that people/companies have
ripped off to use as memes) – Keep Calm and
Carry On? I’m even gladder that we aren’t at war with anyone but a virus
right now!
I wanted to see a match today, as I don’t know whether any
non-league games will be on in the next few weeks/months – a few I had eyed up
last night were called off this morning after clubs had spoken with each other about
the situation. Ashton Town happens to be the most local non-league side to me,
so I thought about it – and then they offered Wigan Athletic season ticket
holders free entry. I was on that bus faster than The Vengaboys.
If I were to speculate (always say that when you suspect you
might be incorrect) – one of the reasons that this particular game wasn’t
called off was due to the journey the away side were making – located in
Barrow-in-Furness some 90 miles away, it’s not really a midweek trip a team of
footballers (on expenses) would want to make after a day at work.
The decision from the Premier League and EFL to suspend
their fixtures until next month was designed to cut down on mass gatherings –
something that you don’t get in non-league football (bar the odd club in The National
League). Interestingly, having their turnstiles open today will be of benefit
for many these clubs; there are plenty of supporters without an EFL
or Premier League team to watch, so they're looking around for games to go to – swelling the gates.
Today’s match will be the first time that I’ve been to their
Edge Green Street ground to see Ashton Town – I’ve been there in previous years
to see several Wigan Athletic Charity games (including last
May’s against a Bryan Robson XI), but never to see the club itself (to my
shame). Currently, they’re just outside the promotion places in the First
Division North – a great start to the season was interrupted by postponements,
squad turnover and naturally, poor results. Their town rivals, Ashton Athletic
(whose home game was one of the postponements today), are currently in a similar
position in the division above – and whilst I wish both teams every success,
the panic buyer in me wants to see an Ashton derby at some point. Next season’s
Wigan Cup, perhaps?
With their involvement with the Latics Charity games (which
raise money for Josephs Goal), the club’s community involvement reflects the
character of their committee. Chairman, Mark Hayes, is particularly active in
the local area and just seems to *get* what a football club is and what it
should be doing for people. His day job is being the landlord of The Gerard
Arms in St. Helens (but let’s not hold that against him!), and in recent weeks has started
an initiative to get people talking by simply opening up a table in the pub for a
chat.
No booking required, no airs and graces, just turn up at
table 12 for a chat with a friendly face. Whilst, in his own words, not a qualified
counsellor, Mark understands that people just often need someone else to talk
to – we all have problems, some of us suffer worse than others, many have a support
network, and some of us don’t. As a pub landlord and non-league football club chairman, seeing and meeting the range
of people he does, I’d say he’s well qualified to be a good listener! Often, it’s that chat, kinship and guidance that people need to feel
better or take action to safeguard their mental health – something we’re going
to need more of in weeks to come (if all these virus predictions happen!)
An Ashton Town Association Football Club existed as early as
1903, joining the Second Division of the Lancashire Combination. Despite
winning promotion in their first season and stabilising at the level above, the
club struggled to fulfil fixtures towards the end of the 1910-11 season and
withdrew from the league. In 1953, Makerfield Mill FC (Makerfield being the
area that Ashton is historically a part of – hence the suffix), were formed, originally
playing in the Wigan Sunday School League, before spells in leagues in St.
Helens and Warrington.
Having been forced to move from their home at Windsor Road
in 1962 because of land development, the club sort to shape a tangible future
– renaming themselves as ‘Ashton Town AFC’ and playing at a number of grounds
(fields, basically) in the area before purchasing a plot of land off Edge Green
Street in 1964. Five years later, World Cup winner and Liverpool forward, Roger
Hunt, opened the clubhouse and a decade after that, the (present) changing
rooms were built – giving the club the means to establish themselves in
non-league football.
The motto of the club is ‘Onwards and Upwards’ – and there’s a real ambition to progress on a
couple of levels. Despite being founder members of the North West Counties
League, Ashton Town haven’t progressed beyond it; indeed, both Ashton clubs
have seen another local rival, Atherton Collieries, progress to the Northern
Premier League’s Premier Division in recent years (a promotion away from the
National League North, for those who don’t know). Their success just goes to
show that with robust organisation, a philosophy (both on and off the pitch), a
dedicated volunteer base and a good community reach, what clubs can achieve
at this level.
Edge Green Street is quite a large ground for a step 6 club;
hidden behind housing (just a minute’s walk from the bus stop – press the bell
when you turn the corner after ‘Ashton Carpets’), its official capacity is just
over 2000, but the space behind one of the goals (acting as a grassy car park)
and the left-side of the ground is quite substantial. My mind races with ideas about a Saudi
billionaire taking over the club and developing the ground into something like
Accrington’s Crown Ground or Fleetwood’s Highbury Stadium. It would establish
them as a proper local rival for Wigan Athletic; giving the fans somebody else
to send nonsensical internet abuse too, instead of Wigan rugby fans. (Actually,
thinking about what I've just said, it seems I may have the virus, after all!)
On approach to the turnstile, I spot a notice stuck to side
about the Coronavirus; advising us on best practices. I’m one of those who
thinks it’s odd that we need to be told how to wash our hands properly – having
been in many Gents toilets over the years (no, not like that), I can tell you now (Ladies), that the majority of them do not wash their hands (I do, by the
way). It's basic cleanliness – no wonder viruses are running riot.
I hummed and hawed about presenting my season ticket –
whilst it’s certainly kind of the club to offer the deal, I wouldn’t have
minded paying the fiver entry fee to support them. So I get a programme, raffle ticket and a
couple of pints instead (clearly, the idea behind the offer!) The clubhouse is pure
non-league; furniture and carpets that suggests they were bought second-hand from a working
mens club, husky chatter from the patrons about anything other than football, a television showing the English Badminton Championships, multipack
cans poured into plastic glasses – I didn’t even mind that there was no poncy beer
on sale.
I take my (now, usual) spot on the left side of the pitch,
taking a seat in the stand as it started to rain as soon as the match kicked
off. Both sides make a good start, as both have Periods of Possession (POP),
without much in the way of a clear-cut chance in the first 20-minutes or so.
There seems to be quite a few on – crowds here average around 50-70,
and there must be double that on today. I can even see a couple of fellow Latics supporters
(we don’t all know each other, contrary to popular belief, I just saw a few
with club gear on!)
After the balanced start, Ashton begin to take a hold of the
game and they have a great chance to take the lead when an attacker runs
through on goal, rounds the keeper, but he takes himself too wide and so by the
time his resulting shot is aimed at goal, a defender gets back to clear off the
line. No matter, they take the lead a few minutes later – and it’s a cracker
(in the words of Frank Carson); a well-worked move from a throw down the right
(my left) sees Jack McConville get clear of his markers, to the edge of the
area before curling the ball inside the near post.
The goal leads to a period of Ashton dominance; Holker’s
keeper has to pull off two great saves low down to keep it at 1-0. I make a dash
for the bar just before half-time which took me around his goal – his side give
away a free-kick and he doesn’t seem best pleased with his side, let’s just say
that. He was bollocking them.
The half-time beer (can of Carling – don’t judge me. They
didn’t have any Leffe) allows me to witness the raffle draw take place. Sadly,
my ticket is 13 numbers away from the first prize when a lad sat on the nearest
table to me draws it out. Then, to my excitement, the lady offers her raffle
cup to me to draw out the second prize – here’s my chance. I ended up drawing a
ticket 20 numbers away – no raffle whiskey for me to keep Covid-19 at bay!
Smarting from my defeat in the raffle, I return to my seat
(it was still raining) for the second half, a few minutes into it. My arse wasn’t
on the faded red seat for a minute when some controversy occurred – Holker are awarded
a penalty when their forward is hacked down in the area. However, there are
howls of derision from most inside Edge Green Street – pointing out that the
linesman had flagged for offside. The ref goes to talk to his assistant and
after a minute, proceeds to award the pen – much to the chagrin of those around
me.
As the green-shirted Holker man steps up to take it, a lone
shout of ‘SHIT’ was aired just as he struck the ball – and the keeper saves!
The Ashton custodian, Chris Cheetham, was named in the programme as the NWCFL
Division One North ‘Goalkeeper of the Month’ for December (showing how few
games have been played recently!) – although it wasn’t a great penalty by any
means, he still did well to dive the right way and hold onto the ball. So was
justice done with the miss or was another crime committed by one of the spectators?
I’m not getting involved!
The game grows more ‘industrial’ in action and language – a lad
in a Latics hat near me (who, all game, has been dying to get a hold of the
ball so he can throw it back), was giggling at the words ‘fucking hell’ that was
uttered by a player when the ref ignored his pleas for a free-kick. I overheard
his dad tell him ‘this is proper football’ earlier; with the pitch threatening
to turn into a mudbath and players swearing at each other within earshot, it
certainly takes me back. Thankfully, the lad got his opportunity to fag the
ball and chuck it to a player – big smile on his face. Somehow, I don’t think
he’ll forget a moment like that.
Despite some huffing and puffing from Holker (their best
chance of the second half being a shot that went just wide), Ashton hold out
for the three points. A cracking game on an otherwise odd occasion – when
football does resume, I want to make a point of visiting more – I’ve no excuse
really, what with it being 20 minutes away. Since the sad demise of Wigan Robin Park, they’re my ‘local’ non-league team, after all.
On the bus back into the centre of Ashton (it's only a mile away, but it's STILL pissing
down!), I encounter the lady who won the 2nd prize that I drew for in the raffle. Jealously
raged as I saw she was clutching her family tub of Quality Street, tightly.
I've no chance of getting one. I console myself by alighting at The Twisted
Vine alehouse to sink a few beers. Highly recommended if you’re ever in the
area, it’s simply a great microbar – it has the usual tight surroundings,
forcing people, who don’t know each other, to chat. There’s (of course) a
plethora of ales on tap, as well as bottles as part of a 'beer library' too. As
soon as I open the door, two dogs nearly knock me over. What a pub – you can’t
whack welcomes like that. It’s easy to see why it is 2019’s
CAMRA Wigan pub of the year.
So all that’s left to say is Keep Calm and Carry On. Look after those people around you and for
heaven’s sake, don’t bulk buy things from the supermarket – spread your shopping trips out so you leave stuff for others
(especially if it’s beer – we need something to get us through with no football
being on).
Aside from the het-up
atmosphere of a Boca-River derby at La Bombonera, a European night at Anfield
or even an Old Firm match – one of the most unique atmospheres in world
football to be involved in, has to be watching an amateur side playing at a
50,000-seater stadium (with an average of 650 other people watching with you).
Today,
it’s ‘Pints, Pies and a Stramash’, as
my groundhopping takes me to Hampden Park to see if the oldest association
football club in Scotland, Queens Park, can keep their League Two promotion
push going as they host Annan Athletic.
10
hours after leaving Old Trafford, I’m on the train for the journey to
Glasgow – the 2-and-a-half-hour ride was made all the better by Avanti’s free
Wi-Fi. It’s been a somewhat gentle start for the new operator of the West Coast
mainline, although that may have something to do with the weather holding out
for the better in recent weeks. They’ve made a good start with the free internet – Virgin
would charge you for the privilege, which considering the prices of trains
tickets, was a bit of a cheek. Thankfully, I could look up information about my
visit, read stuff on social media and learn the Spanish for ‘cat’ (gato) on my app without having to dip
into my data allowance and the patchy mobile network.
On arrival, the first thing I do is go to a cashpoint to
draw some Scottish banknotes out. I’m a bit of lapsed numismatist,
so I’m always fascinated with the prospect of receiving unfamiliar money – but
there’s a plan behind this instance. I always like to go ‘undercover’ at these
games, not draw attention to myself – I can
concentrate on getting more out of my experience that way. So the drawing out
of twenty Bank of Scotland sterling was done to fulfil my numismatic thirst and so
I wouldn’t seem like a daytripper. I just need to break the notes before I return
home – even brand-new Bank of England notes are viewed with suspicion down
there (contrary to popular belief, no retailer is obliged to accept any
sterling note – even Bank of England ones).
If you’re wondering what a ‘stramash’ is,
it’s
defined in the Collins dictionary as an ‘uproar’, a ‘tumult’, a ‘brawl’. In
a football context, it’s the go-to word for Scots to describe a ‘goalmouth
scramble’. I really like it; the simplicity of using a single word to describe
what is essentially, a completed mess, is always a winner with me – it sounds
beautiful in a(ny) Scottish brogue too. According to the book, ‘Do
You Speak Football’, the term was popularised by STV presenter, Arthur Montford
and is also associated with famed BBC Rugby Union commentator, Bill McLaren
(presumably to describe a ruck – itself derivate of a ‘ruckus’).
There wasn’t any sign of a stramash
occurring as I got on a ScotRail train for the short trip to Hampden – there
wasn’t just a plethora of spare seats, it was nice and comfortable too. It took
around 10 minutes for me to reach Mount Florida, which is the closest of five
stations that lie within a mile of the stadium. From there, it’s roughly
another 10 minute walk to Hampden and despite the weather turning nasty, I
enjoyed the stroll – there are some impressively-built red brick buildings in the
area which do well to hide the fact that there’s a 50,000-seater stadium around
the corner. When you walk to Wembley, you know it’s there, even from a mile
away – you don’t actually see Hampden until you turn down the corner that leads
into its path.
Home to Queens Park and the Scottish
National Team, this Hampden is actually the third one that Queens have played
at since their formation. Named after a nearby terrace (that itself, was named
after John Hampden, a Roundhead in the English Civil War, with connections to Scotland), the first Hampden
Park was in use for 10 years, hosting the first Scottish Cup Final in 1874, as
well as an international against England in 1878. The second Hampden Park,
built in 1884, was located 150 yards away from the original – the stadium being
constructed because a railway company had planned a new line through the site
of the original. Queens would stay here until the late-1890s, coming into a disagreement
with landlords to purchase nearby land for expansion. The 12-acre site that
became the third Hampden Park was purchased from Henry Erskine Gordon in
November 1899, the club eventually moving there four years later. After
leaving, Third Lanark moved into the second Hampden, renamed it (New) Cathkin Park and played
there until their liquidation in 1967. Today, the site is a public park – the
terracing is actually still there, overgrown with nature. A new version of
Third Lanark have plans to eventually move back (their original home,
also called Cathkin Park, now a housing estate).
The design of the third Hampden was
mostly done by James Miller who created twin grandstands along the south side
of the ground, with a pavilion wedged between them. The famed-football ground
designer, Archibald Leitch, also worked on the project – using the ground’s
natural slopes to design the banks of terracing. During the construction, a
disaster occurred at Ibrox in which 25 people died after part of the wooden
terraces collapsed. As a result, the terraces at Hampden were firmly set within
the earthwork and ‘innovative techniques’ were applied to control spectators.
On its opening, on the 31st October 1903, the third Hampden Park was
the biggest stadium in the world – only surpassed by the opening of the
Maracana in Rio de Janerio in 1950. Hampden’s (and Europe’s) record attendance is 149,547 for a British Home Championship match against England in 1937 (the
Scots came from behind to win 3-1).
The stadium was vastly redeveloped during
the 1980s and 1990s – a combination of crumbling facilities, a riot at the 1980
Scottish Cup Final (more about that later) and the Taylor Report, eventually
seeing Hampden redesigned to be a 52,000 all-seater stadium. As an amateur club,
Queens couldn’t afford the works, so redevelopment costs were sought from
several sources, including public donations, the UK government (this being
pre-devolution) and the National Lottery. Eventually, the ground was completed
in time for the 1999 Scottish Cup Final – a few months after that, the ground saw
Paul Scholes score two goals for England in a Euro 2000 play-off win (sorry,
needed to get a dig in somewhere!)
By the time I reach the stadium, it’s
just gone 1 pm – which gives me the best part of two hours to root around the Scottish Football Museum.
After visiting the (English) National Football Museum yesterday and seeing a
shirt worn in the very first international match (against Scotland), having a
look around the Scottish equivalent (which was established at the stadium in 2001) would provide a nice balance.
Located in the bowels of Hampden Park
(you have to walk through the front doors and go down the staircase on the right,
which I learned after spending five minutes waiting in a queue to ask the chap
at the front desk – why didn’t they just signpost it?), museum entry costs £8
for adults and £3 concessionary. As you enter the double-doors that lead into
the exhibitions, one attraction immediately catches your eyes – the Scottish
Cup.
Although this is the second oldest
association football competition (after the FA Cup), this cup is the oldest
existing trophy in the sport – first presented to Queens Park in 1874. Later,
as I was circling back around, I overheard a tour guide tell his group that the
original trophy is still awarded to the winners today but they later get a
knock on the dressing room door to hand it back, receiving a replica in return.
Apparently, the cup is too valuable to loan out, its worth being £2 million –
which struck me as being a bit cheap (as ridiculous as that may sound), considering its historical importance.
The start of the museum (as you’d expect)
begins with the first instances of the game in Scotland (showcased, as it was
at the time, as Foot-Ball – just to make it clear that’s how you play it. Feet,
not hands!), the first international, held on the 30th November 1872 at the West of Scotland Cricket Ground in Hamilton (a 0-0), featured prominently. A couple of highlights for me was the
reconstruction of the old changing rooms here at Hampden Park, which included a
‘wintergreen aroma’ just to add a touch a realism – like riding a bike or your
first kiss, you never forget the smell of wintergreen. Another favourite is the
elaborate display of Archie Gemmill’s fantastic goal in the 1978 World Cup against the Netherlands – three-quarter sized figures (roughly), watching as
the ball hits the net after Gemmill’s jinking, solo run.
An interesting factoid that I didn’t know
before (but do now, thanks to this display) was that the Dutch keeper, Jan
Jongbloed, wore number 8 – which any follower of the game will tell you is
bizarre, even in today’s era of high-numbered shirts. I learn later that this
was simply because the Netherlands chose to assign numbers in alphabetical
order. This wasn’t unusual, as in the same World Cup, Argentina’s Ossie Ardiles
wore number 2 playing in central midfield, whilst attacking midfielder,
Norberto Alonso wore number 1.
Throughout the museum, there is no
escaping the historic importance of Queens Park in the Scottish game. They were
THE top team in the country for many years, winning the Scottish Cup 10 times –
although none since they beat Celtic 2-1 in a replay at Ibrox, in 1893 (despite
this, they are still the third-most successful side in the competition, behind
Celtic and Rangers, obviously). The club was formed in 1867 by a group of
Gentleman who had kickabouts in the area of Glasgow that gave the club its name. Strictly an amateur club (their motto is Ludere Causa Ludendi – ‘To Play
For The Sake of Playing), they initially entered the FA Cup, going on to reach
consecutive finals – both against Blackburn Rovers from 1884.
Although they lost both games, they did
themselves great credit – the 1884 match (2-1 to Rovers) is notable for an
incident in which they had a goal disallowed. Apparently, the referee, Major
Francis Marindin, said that they [Queens] had ‘scored once more’, but as they
did not attempt to claim it, he had ‘not bothered to award it’. It’s worth
remembering that there was no such thing as goal nets during this era – and to think, we’re moaning about V.A.R today!
The club has remained amateur for all of
this time – whilst their fellow Glasgow clubs have outgrown them, Queens have
remained in the Scottish lower leagues, providing a stable club for
up-and-coming local players or for those who may have fallen through the divisions
and are looking to rebuild their careers. All this is soon to change, however,
as faced with the prospect of losing their tenant (the Scottish FA), Queens
have sold the stadium to them. As a result, the only way that they
can realistically see themselves surviving in Scottish senior football is for
them to adopt semi-professional status – which they did, last November.
From what I can understand, the move to
semi-pro status is to ensure that the club can attract players going forwards –
at the moment, the privilege of playing at the national stadium is helping to
get decent players in for the price of expenses-only. From next season though,
they’ll be playing at ‘Lesser Hampden’, their training ground, situated next
door. Proceeds from the sale of Hampden Park will go into remodelling the
facility to meet SPFL-standard – on passing it earlier, it really needs some
work. There’s a tiny stand on one side of the ground, with the rest being open
– it’s about a Step 5-standard (as we say in English non-league circles).
Today’s match has been promoted as ‘Football
for a fiver’, so I part with my Scottish money with a feeling of glee. I procure
a teamsheet and have a look around the large concourse – where’s the beer? As
it turns out, there isn’t any – Twitter tells me they don’t serve beer at
Scottish league games when I asked (good job I didn’t ask anyone at the ground,
I would have looked like more of an idiot than I already am!) I learn the ban
is due to the aforementioned Cup Final (40 years ago, in May), in which Celtic
and Rangers supporters clashed on the pitch. An Act of Parliament was passed
that prohibited the sale of alcohol in all Scottish sports ground – this was
only partially lifted in 2007 when the sale of ale was allowed at international
rugby union matches at Murrayfield.
Obviously, being English, this concept
was alien to me – whilst my peers and I are busy moaning that there’s no real
ale on tap (and we’re not allowed to have the drink in our seats), there are whole
generations of Scots (some of whom would be older than me!) who don’t know what
it’s like to have a beer inside the ground (let alone meticulously plan to beat
the queue at half-time). I’m not going to comment on the incident in 1980 (as I’ve
no idea what I’m talking about), but it always seems to be the actions of a few
that spoil it for the rest. The alternative is for supporters to get tanked up
before games instead – and that’s not going to help to calm things down!
So beer-less, I take my seat in the vast openness
of Hampden. Queens are nicknamed ‘The Spiders’ for two reasons; the first (and
most obvious), is because of their black-and-white-striped shirts, with the
other reason down to their philosophy of playing a passing game that ‘weaves a
web around their opponents’. Early on, it’s evident why – the home side
confidently hold on to the ball, Annan chasing shadows. It takes nearly 20 minutes
for the first clear-cut chance to occur, however – but the home side make no
mistake. A rare long ball forward is missed by a defender and Ross MacLean
latches onto to it, through on goal and thumping it into the
corner.
Queens continue to play some tidy stuff –
most of it coming down the left. Interestingly though (and perhaps, a wiser
move, seeing as it's pissing down now), it’s another long ball that gets them
into their latest great position – again, a defender misreads the flight of the
ball, an attacker gets hold of it, runs towards goal, rounds the keeper, and is
brought down – penalty. Salim Koulder-Aissa sends the offending goalie the wrong way from
the spot and Dolly Parton’s ‘Jolene’
is played as goal music (this after T-Rex’s ‘Children of the Revolution’ greeted the first goal, as well as shepherding
the players on the pitch). Annan have an opportunity to halve the deficit late
on in the half when a quick interchange of passes sees a forward through on
goal – he shoots, but Willie Muir, the Queens custodian, does well to turn the
ball wide.
I stay in my seat during the half-time
break (partly to admire the ground around me, but mostly because there was no
beer on) – one thing that does strike me, is how it doesn’t seem like there are
50,000 empty seats here. It’s a ridiculous statement on the face of it because
there are over 50,000 empty seats
here, but it doesn’t sound as echo-y as I thought it would do. The crowd (made
up of people young and old) have been in good voice and I’m wondering now
whether the construction of the stadium allows for the noise to reverberate
downwards, rather than across the swathes of empty seats?
A massive help, is the stadium being single-tiered – everyone is able to respond and join in with song at the same time, rather than being in their own tier and waiting. Another point I'd like to make, is the
makeup of the crowd itself – whilst Queens (no, not that kind of Queens and make-up!) can
offer families and those who don’t want to get involved with the Old Firm an
alternative club to watch in comfortable surroundings, will Lesser Hampden
offer similar trappings for them to stay for the long-term? The club will need all
the support it can get to keep up in the semi-pro game, after all.
Annan start the second half with far more
urgency (as you might expect, being 2-0-down and all); they have a great chance
when an attacker gets past the last defender but his resulting lob is
just-about caught under his own crossbar by Muir. Desperate for goals, Annan
call upon a striker from the bench – and I’m surprised when it turns out that the
Christian Nade who comes on, is the same Christian Nade who played in the
English Premier League for Sheffield United some 13 years ago. The Frenchman
has been in Scottish football for some time and was in the news last year
after it emerged he has been suffering from depression, culminating in an
attempt to take his own life in 2014. It’s somewhat heartening to see he’s still
playing football and (hopefully) doing well.
The Spiders manage to get a hold of the
balance of the game after a sloppy start to the second half – a great run from
one player sees him skip past two defenders, drawing ‘wows’ from the crowd. Brilliantly,
the third defender barrels into him to halt his progress – I must admit, that I
LOL-ed at that (the lad was okay, by the way, so I didn't feel guilty for laughing out loud!)
The match peters out, which was probably
a relief for everyone – the rain is torrential now, so it should be interesting
jog back to Mount Florida! It was a fully deserved win for Queens, who
generally bossed the match – they’re now 3rd in League Two, with a
play-off spot far more likely than an automatic promotion place. I’ve really
enjoyed my visit to Hampden, though I would love to hear what this place is
like when it is full – it was a decent atmosphere with 700 here, so who knows
what 50k would sound like.
I scurry past Lesser Hampden on my way
back to the station, making a mental note to keep up-to-date with how the club
get on when they move there. For the sake of history if anything, I hope Queens
can prosper and perhaps even get up the leagues in years to come. Back at the
station, the local trains are that efficient, one leaves a minute
early than it was scheduled for! Well, either that or the display was wrong –
regardless, I’m back at Glasgow Central with a spring in my step.
Time is pressing, however (I’ve only got
an hour until the last train home leaves – at 6.40 pm!!!), so my beer poncing is
limited to a craft beer place named ‘Bier Halle’, a short walk from Central Station. Not
living in a big city, I’m always surprised to see bouncers on the door of a pub
in the afternoon – and this place is no different. A nod from them lets me in
and I descend into the dark, underground bar. As expected from the name, it’s
very much German-themed, with long tables and tight surroundings; it’s standing
room-only. I plump for a pint of Blue Moon which a man comments ‘is that the wee stuff with the fruit in?’.
It is, mate – and it’s great. Even Man City fans sing about how good this white
Belgian beer (with a slice of orange) is. Obviously.
After supping up, I head back to the
station and buy my packed lunch from M&S (butties and cans), leaving 20-or
so minutes to while away – so I sneak in a pint of Tenants in celebration of a
decent day. When in Glasgow and all that – I’m pretty sure I’ll be back.
The latest part in
Wigan Athletic U18’s record-breaking FA Youth Cup run sees them pitch up at a
stadium with a very apt nickname for any aspiring professional footballer to
play in – The Theatre of Dreams. Yes,
my groundhopping takes me to Old Trafford on a Friday night as Manchester
United, the most successful club in this competition (with 10 wins) await the
young Latics.
With the home side
throwing the doors open for this quarter-final for free, anyone local with a
passing interest in seeing the stars of tomorrow, playing in one of world
football’s top arenas, would have been silly not to go. I took it a step
further by booking the day off work to visit the National Football Museum and have
a few beers – so even the silliest of
Billy’s couldn’t turn this opportunity down.
United’s fingerprints are all over this trophy – half of
their 10 wins came in consecutive years, right from the start of the
competition in 1952-53. The players that contributed to that run of wins were
to make up the bulk of the
‘Busby Babes’ – the young players that came through the United youth team
that went on to have a major impact on European football; Bobby Charlton, Wilf
McGuiness, Duncan Edwards and Billy Whelan amongst them.
Although United would win the competition again in 1963-64,
it would be nearly 30 years until they next won it – that group known as ‘Fergie’s Fledglings’
(The Class of ‘92™) with the likes of
Ryan Giggs, Gary and Phil Neville, Paul Scholes, Nicky Butt and David Beckham
going on to play for the first-team, achieving domestic and international glory
with the club.
Despite the history, reputation and massive investment
placed in their youth set-up, it’s actually been 9 years since United last won
this competition (Chelsea being utterly dominant in recent years). Winning over
two legs against Sheffield United (future United captain – and Wigan Athletic
loanee – Harry Maguire lining up for the Yorkshire side), United’s Class of ‘11 contained the promise of
Paul Pogba, Jesse Lingard, Michael Keane and Ravel Morrison – current players
that have experienced varying degrees of success at the top level of the game.
And this is the point with this competition; whilst it offers
a great breeding ground for the star players of tomorrow, many others won’t
reach the heights that they’re purported to, so we should be taking the results
with a pinch of salt. The fact that United haven’t won this cup for the best
part of a decade isn’t a sign of a failing youth system as even at this level, the
development can be somewhat difficult to predict. All-conquering teams like the
Busby Babes or the Fergie Fledglings whose players do go on to have an impact on senior football are rare – and it’s interesting
to note that the recent United youth team graduates (Marcus Rashford, Scott
McTominay, Brandon Williams, Tahith Chong, etc) have been in sides that have
got nowhere near Youth Cup Finals.
The only way for these players to truly test themselves will
be them going on to make appearances in the first-team. Players are generally
given opportunities through chance, however; there may be an injury crisis (see
Rashford) or the manager might have a stroke of inspiration, wanting to change
the way the side plays, needing a specific type of player for a role (see
McTominay). Some players will have to move away from the club to play regularly
and develop in a different environment before returning (see Pogba).
My hope with Wigan’s great crop of youngsters playing here
tonight, is that they’re eventually given an opportunity in the first-team in a
year-or-two (when we’ve finally stabilised in The Championship!) – otherwise,
what’s the point in having a youth system? Clubs should be creating pathways to
the first team, not putting them in when needs must. We could have a group of
future great first-teamers on our hands here, (Paul) Cookie’s Monsters, or something.
All the greats will eventually find themselves in a museum
of some sorts (on display, I mean, not lumbering around, trying not to knock stuff
over, like I was doing). So before the match, I paid a visit The National Football Museum,
situated adjacent to Victoria station. Originally housed next to Preston North
End’s Deepdale stadium, the museum was relatively popular (attracting some
100,000 people a year), but funding became an issue and the concerned trustees
looked to Manchester City Council to provide a package that would safeguard its
future. After outbidding an improved offer from Preston, Manchester got the
museum in 2012 and five years after opening in the former Urbis building,
attracted half a million visitors a year.
I’ve been to the museum a couple of times (not so much in
recent years, mind) and I learn that it now charges an entry fee – previously
it was free for everybody. Entry has been set at £10 for adults, a fiver for
kids (and £26 for a family of four), with a ticket allowing you entry for as
many times as you want throughout the year. So if you live in the North West,
it’s well worth it if you intend to make repeat visits (by the way, as their
local council provides funding, Manchester residents get in free). As a museum
enthusiast, I always feel that it’s a shame that people are charged to view
what is ostensibly our heritage – but it’s needs must at a time when budgets
for educational facilities simply aren’t there. Paying for or losing them,
perhaps forever? There isn’t a choice, really.
The facility is massive – chronicling the history of English
football and its effect on the world sees displays spread out over a number of
floors. The permanent displays are based around the origins of the game, with
shirts, caps, trophies, medals and badges shining out from their cases, relating
their stories. My personal favourite artefact is the England shirt worn by
Arnold Kirke Smith in the match against Scotland on the 30th
November 1872 – the first-ever international football match. I would say such
an artefact is priceless, but on further reading, I learn that the shirt was
purchased at auction in 1998 for £21,000 – it must be worth more than double
now, surely?
The rest of the museum’s displays takes a look at all
aspects of football culture – from the clothes players used to wear pre-match,
through to supporter culture (pints and pies are mentioned!). The third floor
is dedicated to seasonal exhibitions – when I was last here, photographs by the
renowned football snapper, Roy Stuart Clarke were on display under the title
‘The Homes of Football’, with many of our clubs’ grounds (many now long gone),
featured. The display that’s featured on my visit today is ‘Strip! How Football
Got Shirty’, celebrating the ‘design, fashion and technology of football
shirts’, with the world’s largest curated exhibition of shirts on view.
There’s even a ‘Hall of Shame’ for the shirts, which in
recent days, has lived up to its name. A rare Celtic
shirt from 1991-92 was brazenly stolen from a display – the perpetrator was
even caught on camera doing it. The great thing about this collection is that
it has been sourced from ordinary supporters – this Celtic shirt belongs to a
fan, not a club or museum (which doesn’t make a theft from these places any
less wrong, mind – but stealing from a fan, rather than a faceless entity, is more
personal). The museum has contacted the police in the hope it can recover it. (UPDATE, 4/3/2020: The
shirt has been reunited with its owner after it was posted back to the
museum, anonymously!)
So, all-in-all, I would heartily recommend you pay a visit
to the museum if you have the remotest interest in football history (if you’ve
read this far, it’s clear you have!). Aside from what I’ve mentioned, there are
interactive games throughout the museum to get involved with, as well as
regular events and talks from football professionals and experts about anything
vaguely to do with the game we love. Speaking of which…
After coming into contact with pouring rain on my exit from the
museum, I make my way (quickly) to The
Pilcrow Pub, nearby on Hanover Street. This craft beer bar is held in what
I described on Twitter as ‘a posh shed’. The part of the site it sits on was
once home to (what I suspect, from the past imaging on Google Street View), a
social security centre. The building was levelled and a paved open space (with
benches) was created, the pub being added later. Speaking about the pub – it’s
a cracker. It feels snug, yet there’s plenty of room for you to move around,
sit down and shake yourself off like a wet dog. I treat myself to a pint of
porter that cost the best part of a fiver and whose name I’ve long forgotten (just
like all the girls gone by).
Later, I make my way towards Piccadilly station for the
tram, stopping off at a few more hostelries on the way – Port Street Beer House was a
nice place (now this was a snug pub,
until I learned that there werewas an
additional floor upstairs!) After a quick pint in The Waldorf, near the
station, I just about make the last tram in time for kick-off at Old Trafford – I get to the Sir Alex Ferguson Stand with 10 minutes to spare but
I’m met by a closed turnstile, massive queues and a half-and-half scarf-selling
fella.
Now, I wasn’t expecting either of these things; it’s a youth
game, so what’s going on? Surely the coin this man would make won’t be enough
to cover his time and the expense of selling his wares? I can understand if the
senior sides were playing in the same league (so he can sell them on another
occasion), but that’s obviously not the case. As for the turnstile, I learn
from those queuing that apparently, more people have turned up than what was
expected, so they had to close off one section and open up another. In the end,
I was glad I turned up when I did – although I missed the first 5-or so
minutes, I was sat with the vast majority of the Wigan support, which was
healthy in number and in voice.
Judging by the rowdiness of some of the Wiganers, it seems
they had the same pre-match idea as me (though I doubt they were paying a
fiver for a pint of porter just so they could hide in a posh shed to avoid the
rain). Later, I learn that there were around 2,500 Wiganers here, making up a
crowd of over 3,500 – that can’t be right? It felt that there were at least
5,000 in here, as the United supporters (the majority of whom were sat in the
opposite side of the stand) were also in good voice. I’m not sure what I was
expecting, but there’s a part of me that’s disappointed that more people didn’t
turn out – especially with it being free entry. With the high prices to see
their side at OT these days, occasions such as this is a great opportunity for
people, who wouldn’t normally be able to afford to go, to experience a night
here.
It’s a pretty competitive start; with Latics star man, Joe
Gelhardt, nursing an injury (so isn’t in the squad for tonight), and winger,
Mackenzie O’Neil (who has also impressed me during this run), not being in the
squad, I was fearing the worst – but the lads gave as good as they got. United
have the first chance when striker, Adoyeji Sotona, headed just over, followed
by Wigan’s Kyle Joseph having a header cleared off the line, from a corner by
Luke Robinson.
United slowly take
charge of the game; their intricate passing too quick, as the Wigan players
show patience and only press when they need to. Sam Tickle in the Latics goal
is called into action as he makes a save low down from a shot, but he has no
chance with the next shot – Shola Shoretire driving the ball into the corner
from just inside the penalty area. In celebration, the United players slide
over to where us (the majority of Wigan supporters) are sat, playfully mocking
us. They receive boos in return – all pantomime stuff, as this is the biggest
crowd they’ve (probably) played in front of.
Just as it seems
United were building up to a second goal, Latics finally get their foot on the
ball and start to dictate the play – Jensen Weir in midfield being the constant
conduit. They have the ball in the net, but the flag was up for offside. Then a
slipped pass through to Joseph is slightly too heavy as the United keeper comes
out to smother, colliding with the striker. The pressure was now relentless;
Wigan win a corner that isn’t cleared, the ball finding its way to Tom Costello
on the left; his cross is flicked on by a defender marking Joseph and lands at
the feet of Sean McGurk at the back post – and he hammers it off the crossbar
and in. The noise that greeted the ball hitting the net was akin to a first-team
game and I had to laugh when the Latics players went over to the United
supporters to taunt them. Ah, the
armour that being young provides, I remember that.
It stays a finely
poised 1-1 at half-time; although United looked good early on, Latics were
actually bossing the game leading up to the equaliser – so there’s hope amongst
those of us not going for a snack at half-time that the lads can pull off a
result here. I wile the time away by checking out a few things on the internet
– namely United’s squad. It turns out the ‘Tahith Chong-lookalike’ (big
hair) in midfield for them is Hannibal Mejbri; a
£5m (rising to £10m) signing from Monaco. This just shows the gulf between
the youth set-ups here – whilst we’re trying to establish a good reputation of
developing players so we can attract lads overlooked by United, City, Liverpool
and Everton, United can just drop £5m on a lad barely out of school. And as I
said, we bossed them about for a good
period in that first half.
Oh, how I wish that
continued! United come out with renewed vigour in the second half, retaking the
lead after a simple ball over-the-top wasn’t dealt with and Adoyeji Sotona got
in front of James Carragher to bear down on goal, finishing with aplomb in the
top corner. As I’ve mentioned the son of Jamie, I should mention that the nephew
of his Sky Sports sparing mate, Gary Neville, is on the bench for United –
Harvey (son of Phil) wouldn’t get on, however. Still, it provides an intriguing
titbit, I suppose – and makes those of us who remember their dads being young
players, feel very old!
Speaking of dads,
Mr Tickle must be pleased, as his son, Sam, is keeping his side in the game – before
the second goal for United, he has to save a freak own goal from occurring
after Carragher smashes a clearance against his centre-back partner, Louis
Isherwood. The keeper then has to stick out a leg when a deflected shot sends
him diving the wrong way.United then
hit the post in their search for a third; Sotona has most of the goal to aim
for, but can’t quite get enough on the ball as he slides a cross onto the
upright.
For their part, Latics worked hard but
couldn’t create any clear-cut opportunities – I suspect it would have been a
different story if Gelhardt and O’Neil were involved. As it was, United held on
despite some late pressure; going through to their first semi-final since 2012.
For us, our record-breaking run in this competition is over and despite the
slight disappointment, there’s a sense of pride that the club is able to field
a youth team that can genuinely compete against the very best in the business –
this is a club that spends more on U18 players than we can on first-team players,
after all!
The lads and staff
all come over to clap us, as we clap them – what an experience for them,
regardless of what happens in their career from here. I’ve enjoyed watching
these youth games, so I’ll endeavour to take more in when I can – it’s great to
support your club in a less-pressurised situation (or threatening atmosphere),
as a first-team game.
I eventually made
my way back to Victoria (rather than Piccadilly) and had a quick scoop in the
on-site Beer House before retiring home for some rest. I’m off out early in the morning…
I wasn’t planning on
covering Wigan Athletic’s progress through the FA Youth Cup – this is a
groundhopping blog after all – but following the announcement that the U18’s
Fifth Round tie at home to Birmingham City would take place at the Lancashire
FA’s ground in Leyland, this was the perfect opportunity to combine the youth
team’s strive through the competition with a visit to a football ground I
haven’t been to before.
The County Ground in Leyland used to be home to Leyland
Motors FC – the works team of the automotive brand that played in the
Lancashire Combination from 1933 until 1980. The club then joined the Cheshire
County League for two seasons before becoming founder members of the North West
Counties League. They were solid members of the league up until the early-90’s
(changing their name to ‘Leyland DAF-SGL’ in 1990, for some reason) before
being demoted in 1992 to take up residence in the West Lancashire League.
Despite another name change in 1993 (to the much-more
sensible ‘Leyland Motors Athletic’) they never really progressed, left the
league in 2001 and quietly folded. All that remains of the Leyland brand is the British Commercial
Vehicle Museum that sits next door to the County Ground – being an evening
game, I sadly could not have a mooch around the former Leyland Motors factory.
Maybe another time.
The Lancashire FA moved their headquarters from Blackburn to
the County Ground in 1998, since establishing an impressive base from which to
host youth football, develop coaches and train referees. Each of their County
Cup Finals are played here and often, the youth and development sides of some
of their members play matches here – Bolton Wanderers and Blackburn Rovers
regularly have their U23’s at this ground, for example. Our own U23’s recently
played a Premier League Cup match here recently too – a
magnificent 3-0 win against Liverpool (which I watched live on LFC TV).
The reason for that (and tonight’s) switch has been due to
the DW Stadium ‘hosting several matches in a short space of time’ – the
condition of the pitch being kept in mind. Although I’m delighted to be doing a
bit of groundhopping, part of me is frustrated for the youth team that they
cannot play at the stadium tonight – the Rugby League season has started (Rugby
League is supposed to be a SUMMER sport, by the way), with Wigan Warriors
playing at home last Friday and Latics playing at home this weekend, there
really isn’t any other option but to protect the pitch. My frustration also has
nothing to do with me living a 15-minute walk away from the stadium too!
Finishing work at 17.30, I hop onto the 17:47 train to Leyland
for the 13-minute journey and I’m in the pub by 18.05 (ironically, I probably
would have left it to the last minute if the game was being held at the DW!) My choice of the Leyland Lion, the
town’s generic Wetherspoons, wasn't
just so I could get some inexpensive tea and a pint – it’s situated just around
the corner from the County Ground.
The name of the pub is taken from the Leyland-made bus that ferried
people around in the 1920’s – as all ‘Spoonses
do, the locality is celebrated throughout the pub, with the
history of certain aspects of Leyland and its industry, maintained in frames upon
the wall.
So I’m already in my element with so much history within
easy reach – and it gets better when I spy the menu. I notice a pint of Greene King’s
best, ‘Ruddles’ going for £1.49, but I’m drawn to pushing the boat out and
plump for a pint of ‘Echoes of Symmetry’ by Salopian Brewery for £2.15. This
dark, rich, malty 5% ale will be just the ticket (antidote?) to wash down my upcoming
fish and chips with – the name of the brewery reminding me of Shrewsbury and them
being beaten by what was effectively the Liverpool U23 side in the FA Cup last
night (ten of that Liverpool side played in the 3-0 defeat to Wigan U23’s, by
the way!)
The County Ground is certainly an impressive facility;
paying £3 on entry, my first sight is of the 500-seat stand on the opposite
side of the ground, with the rest (save for an area directly behind one of the
goals where there’s a shelter) being open standing. The turnstile side of the
ground is taken up by the LFA’s offices, education centre, commercial suites,
as well as the changing rooms. There’s also an open bar a few feet from the
turnstile and naturally, a café hut – I’ll be visiting there later.
An all-weather pitch sits behind the goal without the
shelter, which aside from providing an additional facility for the community to
use, is also a good source of income for the LFA, you’d imagine. Although the ground is used on a fairly
regular basis for the LFA’s representative sides and County Cup matches, I feel
like the town of Leyland would benefit from having their own team playing here –
this facility is certainly step 3 standard.
Tonight’s match sees Latics come up against Birmingham City;
both sides already play each other in the Professional Development League
(North), with Latics leading the division by some distance and Birmingham being 9th in the 11-team division. Wigan Athletic have never
reached the quarter-finals of the FA Youth Cup before – and expectations have
never been so high. I take my seat in the corner of the stand and I quickly
learn that I’m sat amongst the parents of the players – with a good portion of
Wigan’s team being Scouse, you can imagine…the beautiful sounds they make
whilst encouraging their sons.
Scouse power
works, however – Wigan take the lead after just 5 minutes when the Birmingham
goalkeeper doesn’t deal with a corner and Scotland U19 forward, Kyle Joseph,
heads in. First-teamer, 17-year-old Joe Gelhardt, is the most notable name on
the teamsheet and here, after 13 minutes of play, he embarks on a jinking run
that ends with him being unceremoniously hacked down – penalty. Gelhardt dusts
himself down to take the kick and score – sending the ball into the corner.
What struck me, before him taking the kick, was the sheer silence from the crowd – usually, you’ll have sections of the
ground booing and screaming obscenities. On this occasion, the situation was reminiscent
of a golfer attempting a putt – a respectful quiet aired, and he placed the ball in.
We’ve had a decent week at Wigan Athletic; the first team
have won two consecutive games (a last-minute winner last Tuesday against Sheffield Wednesday before an unprecedented
1-0 win at high-flying Leeds at the weekend), giving the club renewed hope of avoiding
the drop. We even, somehow, kept hold of star left-back, Antonee Robinson, despite him being on the verge of signing for AC Milan – the transfer collapsing due to them needing more time to complete the medical. This fast, aggressive, attacking play from the U18’s is making the week
even better. England U19 international, Jensen Weir, has a free-kick that hits
the bar, whilst the Birmingham goalkeeper got his bearings right to make a
great save from a header from a corner.
Throughout the first-half, it seemed like only a matter of time until a third goal was on the way – and it did arrive, in some style, right at the
end. Gelhardt picks the ball up, side-to-goal, 25-yards out. He turns inside
before hitting a shot that looked high, but it dipped just at the right moment
to nest in the top corner, distributing that spot
'where
the owl sleeps' (as they say in Brazil). Latics have got one (giant)
boot in the quarter-final – and it could have been so much more too.
Being around the
parents of the players has allowed me to experience a football 'whos-who' –
first-team manager Paul Cook was sat behind me in the first half, as were some
of his coaching staff and other club officials, and as I made my way back to
the stand for the start of the second half with my brew, I followed Jamie
Carragher round the ground – his son, James, is playing at centre-back for
Latics (he didn't strike me as particularly ‘big’, did Jamie – that must be
because I myself am an absolute beast, obviously). Later, I'd learn that a number of first-team players were here too – including the aforementioned Robinson. By all accounts, he has a great attitude – he had also sat in the away end at Leeds on Saturday, hours after the move to Italy collapsed. He could have so easily sulked, but instead endeavours to support the club. This is the type of person every side needs; I'm glad he's still here but I hope he gets his move in the summer too, because he deserves it – and we get plenty of money for him!
I mentioned this briefly
in the blog from the Wigan U18 game against Spurs – one of the benefits of the club
making a major investment in the youth set-up is that we’ll be able to attract
more talented youngsters. The bigger clubs will always have a draw for simply being who they are, but if
you (as a club) can have facilities that are almost on-a-par with them, you’ll
be able to offer them a more realistic gateway into professional football –
and once they’re playing in the first team, they’re in the shop window. Whilst Robinson came through Everton's youth system, the principle is similar – he never played a game for Everton in the Premier League, came to us (on-loan initially) before singing permanently and 6 months later, AC Milan want to double our money to take him off our hands. It's a model that clubs like ours will have to adopt if we want to survive and build in The Championship, as the TV money gap is growing ever-wider at the top of the game.
Birmingham start
the second half much better; Sam Tickle (his dad must be Mr Tickle!) in the Latics goal has to field a few long-range
shots – comfortably, but you can’t win the lottery if you don’t have a ticket.
Their coach (former Watford and West Brom left-back, Paul Robinson) has clearly
had a go at them (within FA safeguarding guidelines, obviously), as they seem to
have upped the tempo, putting more pressure on the Wigan backline. They
struggle to get beyond it, however and Latics seem quite content (evidently,
what with them being 3-0-up!) with catching them on the break. On one such
occasion, Gelhardt finds space 20 yards out, shoots, the ball comes back off
the post but Sean McGurk is well-placed to volley the ball home. It was a fine
cap on a brilliant performance from Wigan’s U18’s – they move into the last
eight where (we later learn) they’ll be away to Manchester United. I’m definitely
going to that one – with the way they’re playing, these lads shouldn't be fearing any team at the moment.
Down the road from
the County Ground is the welcome sight of a micro bar – so it would be rude of
me not to indulge in it whilst I
while away the time until my train home. The Market Ale House (because
it’s located next to the town’s marketplace, funnily enough) brilliantly lies
next door to a Galloways pie shop – Wigan’s very own corner of Leyland! Sadly,
it’s way past the shop’s closing time but I fill up my senses with a pint of Mobberely Brewhouse's ‘Boom
Juice’, a fruity beer with a ‘hint of orange’ for £3.20 – nice stuff. Check out
this
great blog on the Market Ale House from a more experienced Beer Ponce than me – I’m still in the
'youth team' when it comes to poncing around these establishments!
All-in-all, a great
night – I’m definitely going to return to Leyland for a match; as we get to the
‘business end’ of the season, I’ll be looking out for some of the County Cup
finals and hopefully be able to visit on a weekend so I can spend more time
exploring the town, and going for tea at Galloways.
