Burscough vs. Congleton Town

My destination for the first groundhop of 2020 is Burscough. A club who can be said to have ‘punched above their weight’ for much of the last two decades, The Linnets have dropped a couple of levels in more recent years and now find themselves in the North West Counties League Premier Division. Today, they’re hosting Congleton Town, hoping to pick up points to keep them from the bottom of the league – and the only relegation place to the First Division North (for this season at least).

Located (roughly) between the giant metropolises of Wigan and Southport, Burscough lies within West Lancashire and has a population of around 10,000. Originally developed as a small farming village, the Viking roots are reflected within the town’s name – Burh-skogr, meaning ‘fortress in the woods’. The building of Burscough Priory in the 12^th century brought some prominence to the area (housing the tombs of the Earls of Derby), but it was the development of the Leeds and Liverpool Canal and the railways in the 18^th century that saw the area transform from a small village into a small town.

Today, Burscough can be seen as a genteel, relaxed place – if you enjoy the quiet, then it’s worth a visit if you’re in the area. The main attractions include Martin Mere Wetlands Centre (plenty of birds), Burscough Wharf (canalside eateries, arts centres and health & fitness facilities) and its Booths supermarket (if you’re not from the North West, Booths are basically a ‘Northern Waitrose’ – but not as poncy, obviously). Its position by the canal and the surrounding countryside makes it a particularly popular place for walkers – I know this, as I (nearly) bump into some on my way the Old Packing House, for my first pint of the day (High Wire by Magic Coast Brewery – 5.5% pale ale, about a 7.5/10 rating for me).

The current Burscough football club was formed in 1946 – following Burscough Association Football Club (1880-1900) and Burscough Rangers (1905-1935). Rangers developed the present ground (purchasing a grandstand from Everton) and went on to win the Liverpool County Combination three times – leading to a successful application to join the Lancashire Combination, one of the premier non-league divisions at the time. However, they struggled at this level and ran into financial difficulties – folding in 1935. The present Burscough club started life in the Liverpool CC and went on to join the Lancashire Combination in 1953.

In the early-mid 2000s, Burscough were going great guns in the sixth tier of English football, the Northern Premier League (obviously before the Conference North/South were introduced). In 2003, they reached the final of non-league’s most prestigious cup final, the FA Trophy – in which they faced Southern League side, Tamworth. Playing at centre-half and managing Burscough was Shaun Teale – the Southport lad who had spent four years at Aston Villa, making 147 league appearances, winning the League Cup and finishing as a Premier League runner-up. Watched by a crowd of 14,296 (numbering more than the population of the town), Burscough were two-up after 55 minutes, thanks to a double from Gary Martindale, before Tamworth pulled one back late on – to no avail. Crowds thronged the streets leading to the club’s ground; everyone wanting to join in with arguably the biggest moment since it was decided to conglomerate all of those settlements around the railway line to create the town.

A short stroll from Burscough Bridge railway station, the home of the football club, Victoria Park, will soon be no more – the club have already broken ground on building a new facility NEXT TO their current ground. The sale of Victoria Park for housing has allowed them to purchase the adjacent site; containing a 500-seat stand, ‘more spacious changing rooms’, ‘a more comfortable viewing experience’ and more energy-efficient (with floodlights said to be ‘less intrusive’ to the surrounding area), the new ground can be said to be a lifeline for a club who have struggled in recent years – the present-day Victoria Park being a sign of that.

Undoubtedly, the finest day Victoria Park has seen was the 3-2 win against League One Gillingham in the first round of the FA Cup in 2005. Playing in the ‘proper’ stage of the competition for only the second time in their history, the hosts took the lead in the first-half – but Gillingham equalised early in the second. Gillingham had a man sent off (former Wigan midfielder, Mike Flynn) but still managed to take a 2-1 lead thanks to future Premier League midfielder, Matt Jarvis. In front of a crowd of almost 2,000, Burscough never let up and as the 90^th minute approached, they got their equaliser through an own goal, before an injury-time goalmouth scramble saw the ball fall to David Rowan who smashed it home to spark delirium for those squeezed into a viewing spot. I bet plenty of pints and pies were sunk that night!


However, on entry into the ground today (£6), it’s immediately clear the need the club has for a new facility – with the greatest of respect, it’s shabbier than Detective Columbo. The club’s struggles in recent years (dropping three levels in less than a decade – from the Conference North to the North West Counties League) has seen income drop severely, leaving them unable to keep atop of basic maintenance. Now, I’ve been to Victoria Park before, in 2013 when they played Radcliffe Borough in the FA Cup – although the crowd was around the 150 mark, the buzz around the ground was lively and the numbers were more than double than what they’re getting these days – as we know, every extra (paying) body at this level of football counts greatly.  So where have all the supporters gone? You don’t need to work for GCHQ to find this out (which is a good job, as I don’t. Although, I would say that if I did...).

According to the club’s own history page on its website (which hasn’t been updated since 2015), former chairman and majority shareholder, Chris Lloyd ‘stood down and withdrew all funding’ during 2009-10 and it was left to the Supporters Club to raise the funds to see the season out. With the club facing debts of around £800,000, Lloyd’s shareholding and the ground were sold to Chequer Properties Ltd – and ‘not wanting to be involved with the day-to-day running of the football side of the business’, they appointed Frank Parr as chairman to work alongside the club’s long-standing secretary, Stan Petherbridge. This arrangement didn’t last for long; the club’s owners were soon forced to appoint a new Chairman at the end of the 2010/11 season – as a temporary move to groundshare with Skelmersdale United was signed.

There was no mention of the reasons behind the move on the club website, but news reports (since copied and pasted onto a Chester FC forum) assert that the owners sacked the chairman and secretary, and sought to sell the ground. The only snag being that a covenant exists on the ground – the site of can only be built on if there is another site for the team to play on in Burscough. Despite the move being called ‘temporary’, the report says that Chequer Properties searched for ways to bypass the covenant and move the club out of town permanently.

The move to Skem did indeed turn out to be temporary and instead of selling Victoria Park immediately, the owners of the club seemingly chose to abide by the covenant and in January 2018, purchased the land adjacent to the current ground to develop the new facility. Whilst all this was going on, the club was in turmoil on and off the pitch – the supporters even held talks with Supporters Direct to look into the possibility of forming a new club should the old one (forced to pay rent at Skem on a permanent basis, thus becoming unsustainable), close. There have even been reports that ex-players haven’t been paid, the existing ground has been left to rot and the pitch not sufficiently treated.

The irony about this whole saga is that the club should end up in a better position (in terms of infrastructure) than they were before Chequer Properties took over. The new ground can be used by the community, providing a safe, comfortable place for youngsters to play – and to watch their local side. Looking at all of the evidence I’ve had access to, it’s obvious to me that the attraction for Chequer was the land that Victoria Park sat on – they just didn’t bargain on the covenant. This is a prime example of why covenants of this type should be placed on all football grounds – it ensures that, whatever happens to a club, the local community will still have a place to play and to watch football. The plan for Victoria Park is to build houses, adding to the population – so getting rid of an asset to the locality makes little sense to a local council, so good on them for standing firm on the terms of the covenant, not wilting like weaker administrations may do.

Meanwhile, there’s a match to watch! With it being cold and wet, I sit in the stand – the broken, fading green seats presenting an accurate picture of the state of the club at the moment. I could do with a good portion of meat (or some money, if they don’t give meat away at the football anymore), so I get a strip of raffle tickets. I happen to sit next to the old lady who makes the draw during the early part of the first-half, but needless to say, my mouth will be meat-free tonight. There isn’t really much of a crowd on – incidentally, when I came here last time, I stood in the terrace on the opposite side of the pitch to where I’m sat now. Except, today, that roofed terrace (and the entire side) has been fenced off, with rubble visible in the background.

The first-half was decent enough, but the scoresheet remained clean – although both sides had half-chances, there wasn’t much in the way of clear-cut opportunities that should have been put away. I queue up in the café for a half-time brew and I’m sorry to use such a description, but I can’t think of anything more apt – the place has the feeling of an emergency refugee centre, with people huddled around the tables in a freezing room, clutching their brews tightly. I did laugh at what must have been the ‘executive area’, which was screened off from us normies – through the gaps I can see a buffet of chips was put on. I must add (so I don’t seem like too much of a prick), that all the staff were extremely friendly, despite being overworked – they deserve better than this.

There’s more notable action in the second-half – particularly from Burscough’s No10 (both in number and position), James Salkeld; his pace when running with the ball has been opening up gaps in the Congleton defence. On the 69^th-minute mark, he takes the ball 35-yards out and runs, and runs and keeps on running – inside the area, before slipping the ball across the reach of the goalkeeper and into the far corner. It’s a brilliant goal – the best I’ve seen for some weeks. This has become a cliché in itself, but if Lionel Messi would have scored that goal, you’d hear about it for weeks.

An amusing moment transpires late on, as a Burscough player goes down injured – and a supporter is convinced that a Congleton player stood on his head. By chance, some chaps are recording the game near me (from the stand), so the supporter shouts ‘VAR’ to them (it’s V.A.R, by the way) in an attempt to gain justice. Needless to say, the resulting laughs from everyone, echoing around the vastly-empty stand, brightened up an otherwise bleak atmosphere inside Victoria Park.

The match finished as a (much-needed) win for Burscough, who now place a cushion between themselves and the relegation spot. I pop into the Hop Vine after the match; some say (people on Tripadvisor) that this is Burscough’s premier pub – and it doesn’t disappoint. Built in 1874, the interior retains much of its orignal fittings, creating a snug, homely feel – ideal for a bitter day such as this. Serving a gastro menu, you can tell it’s a classy place because the staff wear black. I sup a pint of ‘Rush Hour’ (Spitting Feathers, 4.5%, 7/10) in the pub’s ‘Piano Room’ (there’s a sign above the door and a piano in the corner, just to confirm it). I feel like a million pounds, I’m not going to lie (hopefully I’ll be able to shift that weight soon, though).

Situated just yards away from the train platform, The Bridge pub makes for an obvious last stop before I go home. As I relax in a chair with my pint of Amstel, watching Hull play Chelsea in the FA Cup, who did I see in the back of the pub, but some of the Burscough team! Resplendent in their club tracksuits, the lads are having pints and banter and I’m shitting you not here – the pub has laid on a buffet of chips and bread. So the post-match meal for these athletes (and anyone else – including the dog roaming around) is chip butties. I need to ignore every single cell of my body, telling me to get a plate for myself – I’m going for a meal when I get back in Wigan, so I don’t want to spoil it. A few minutes later, the chap from behind the bar tells me to ‘help myself to a chip butty’. So I do.

I’ve had an interesting visit to Burscough and I do hope they can sort out their issues, the owners make good on their promise to complete the new ground and the disaffected supporters can return to cheer on their side. But then again, I’m an optimist when it comes to football. 

Burscough 1
(Salkeld, 69) 

Congleton Town 0

Attendance: 78

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Wigan Athletic U18 vs. Tottenham Hotspur U18

Happy New Year! As we’re now in the future (‘2020’ sounds somewhat Science Fictiony to me), I thought it would be a good idea to look towards the next decade and see what kind of players our teams are producing. Fortunately for me, Wigan Athletic U18’s have made it to the fourth round of the FA Youth Cup and tonight, they face a stern test against Tottenham Hotspur U18’s.

Despite our current struggles in The Championship, there’s much hope that we’re about to establish a fruitful production line of players at the club – already this season, 17-year-old forward Joe Gelhardt has made several appearances from the bench, most notably scoring the equaliser at Hull in a 2-2 draw. Whilst he isn’t the tallest, he has a great low-centre-of gravity and natural strength; his floating around the forward line and general bullishness has even seen him being compared to Wayne Rooney.

At the start of the season, Latics were given ‘Category 2’ status under the Premier League’s Elite Player Performance Plan (EPPP). This enabled the youth team to join the Professional Development League (the second tier of U18 football, basically), playing matches against clubs from around the country rather than just the North West. At the time of writing, Latics’ U18’s sit top of their group, 8 points clear of second – so the hope that we can produce players for the first-team is understandably high right now.

Speaking about the club’s progression to Cat 2, this was only made possible thanks to plans to develop a dedicated indoor facility for the Academy – Stadium Way, created inside a former Powerleague centre – opened yesterday. Containing a full-size pitch, gym, several outdoor pitches, office space, classrooms and amenities for parents and families, the facility will be given over for community use at various times in the year too.

My one major criticism of the club during our time in the Premier League was that we did not invest sufficiently into the infrastructure with the television riches we received – the old training ground (now being the main base for the academy) was upgraded in increments, whilst we didn’t really have much of an academy set-up. I felt we missed out on a source of talent during those years – instead of taking a risk and paying out (often over-the-odds) for foreign or lower league players, we could have dipped into the youth set-up for squad depth. These players would be used to the club, played in positions and roles that would have suited the style of play – Callum McManaman (man-of-the-match in the 2013 FA Cup Final) being a rare example of a youth player coming through our system during those years.

All that’s in the past though and now, as Wigan is located in a favourable position in the North West, there’s optimism that we can attract the best youngsters around, especially now that we've got these facilities (for one, they’ll have far more chance of playing in the first team here than for Liverpool and Manchester United, for example). Even if the worst comes to the worst and we get relegated to League One (yet again) at the end of the season, the infrastructure will still be there to support the first team squad, meaning that the club has players to come into the team as they sell others off. Every club should be striving to have such facilities, one day, I hope everyone will.

My interest in youth development (at least at the professional level) was peaked as I attended an England U18 international at the then-named JJB Stadium in 2000 as they took on France. I’ve posted the back of the programme below for you to have a look at (see how many players – as well as a glaring error with one of the sides – you can recognise), but my abiding memory was of a French team that toyed with England for most of the game, eventually winning 3-0 – all the goals scored by Djibril Cisse. He looked simply unplayable – quick and strong, he helped himself to his goals in the style of a seasoned professional and he seemed destined to play at the very top levels of the game.

 

(click to enlarge)

Since then, I followed Cisse’ progress – I got really excited when he signed for Liverpool in 2004, acting like an expert because I ‘discovered’ him. Sadly, I think injury probably put paid to what would have been a great top-level career for him but despite that, he didn’t do too badly (winning the FA Cup, Champions League and Super Cup with The Reds, as well as becoming the Lord of the Manor of Frodsham). Big up to Jermaine Defoe who is one of very few players in those squad lists that is still active as a professional today (although, they’re now all aged 37/38, to be fair!)

Aside from Gelhardt, another one of our England U18 internationals is Jensen Weir. A central midfielder, Weir is the son of former Rangers and Everton centre-back, David (no doubt irking his dad by switching from Scotland’s U17’s last season!) – and as I arrive at the stadium and grab a teamsheet, I see he’s in the team for tonight. Gelhardt is also starting, having been drafted in from the first team, with our other youth internationals – MacKenzie O’Neil (Northern Ireland), Kyle Joseph and Luke Robinson (Scotland) also in the team for today. We even have another ex-footballer’s son, James Carragher – offspring of Liverpool legend, Jamie – playing at the back too.

This fourth round tie is a huge test for these players, however; Spurs (a Category 1 club – they must have an indoor training centre in space or something) are 2^nd in the U18 Premier League and beat lastyear’s FA Youth Cup winners, Liverpool, in the last round of this competition. Incidentally, our U18’s went out last season’s competition with a defeat to Liverpool – however, after winning 12 games on the bounce at a higher level this season, I’ve detected a quiet confidence from the comments by the staff that we’ll give them a game.

And we certainly did – right from the kick-off, Latics were direct and aggressive in their pressing, dominating the ball in the opening 15 minutes, deservedly going ahead through a Weir free-kick. Having scored one in the 8-1 victory over Croydon in the last round, he’s marked himself as a bit of a specialist to this novice youth team watcher. There was a bit of fortune to the goal, though – the ‘foul’ for the free-kick looked like a good tackle from the Tottenham lad (indeed, it got some applause from some in the crowd). Then, the shot took a deflection on its way towards goal, wrong-footing the goalkeeper.

Spurs have clearly marked Gelhardt out as the danger man, as he has no less than two players a time on his case whenever he receives the ball – he handles it okay and is linking up with Joseph well. I like the look of Joseph (no, not in that way!); he’s tall, got a bit of pace about him and he seems to be a bit of shithouse – nothing nasty, like leaving a foot in, but he seems to enjoy barrelling into defenders.

As the half wore on, both sides had long spells with the ball, but not creating much in the way of clear-cut chances. Latics did make the Spurs keeper work with a few shots from distance that he handled comfortably, with everything else blocked. The best of the blocked chances being a volley from lively winger, Sean McGurk, that would have taken the net off if the ball had hit it. Instead, a defender was left with a sore knee.

The away side come out fighting in the second half, putting pressure on the defence with some through-ball attempts, but Carragher managed things well (where have we heard that before?) Latics have a great chance for a second McGurk cut inside from the right, his shot from just inside the area hitting the crossbar. Picking the ball up from the byline, Gelhardt proceeded to drive towards the area, past a defender, laying it off to O’Neil, who in turn laid to it off to Joseph – who smashed the ball in the corner of the net! It was a brilliant, well-worked goal that was a sure-fire sign of a side that were confident in front of goal – the very antithesis of the first team at the moment!

Spurs try to rally but the Wigan team are now bursting with confidence and are buzzing around, nipping the ball off their increasingly-frustrated opponents. They do have a decent shot from distance, but home goalie, Sam Tickle, gathers the ball well. Late on, Latics think they have a third when O’Neil turns in Gelhardt's deflected shot – the players run to the corner to celebrate, only for it to be ruled offside. A comical scene then transpires as they all sprint back from the corner and back into position!

The match finishes 2-0 to Wigan, the players taking the well-deserved applause of the majority of the 668 crowd (later, I would learn this was the highest of the night in the FA Youth Cup). Hopefully, the fifth round will see us get another home draw and a four-figure crowd – if they hand in a performance like tonight, it’ll certainly please many of our supporters who have been bereft of slick, attacking football and goals of late.

Whatever happens, I’ll look forward to reading back this report in 2040 to see how many of tonight’s players made a decent career for themselves – remember, I and I alone discovered these players!

Wigan Athletic U18 2

(Weir, 17. Joseph, 62) 

Tottenham Hotspur U18 0

Attendance: 668

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Blackpool vs. Shrewsbury Town

As Christmas comes but once a year, the season produces several one-off specials in celebration; from television programs and pantomimes to novelty jumpers and their once-a-year drinker wearers propping up the bar in your favourite pub (and being sick on it). So as a ‘Christmas Special’ groundhop of my own, instead of seeing a game in non-league, I’m going to see a game in The Football League as Blackpool host Shrewsbury Town in League One.

The last time I was stood outside Bloomfield Road, it was in 2016 as part of my doing the 92 book series. As I approached the ground, I saw a match-boycotting crowd outside the turnstiles, holding up banners and chanting for the club’s owners to ‘get out of our club’ – all whilst the Cher classic ‘Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves’ was being pumped out from the PA system. Blackpool were in a toxic state (which is putting it mildly) but eventually, through a legal intervention, the owners did leave (forced to sell) and disaffected supporters returned to see in a new dawn for their club.

So that’s why I’m here – to see how this historic football club is managing after a troubled time. Also, being late-December, I didn’t want to risk the possibility of a game being called off, so attending a league ground, with their professional set-ups, helps greatly with these odds. Okay, I might be here for the beer too.

I think in years to come, the Oystons’ reign will be held up as the example of how a breakdown in relations with the supporters can be the death knell for a club. Despite Blackpool rising from the depths of The Football League to the Premier League under their ownership, the potential of the club was somewhat suppressed from there. Key investments in the stadium, training ground and playing staff were not made (despite them making huge profits with TV money and player sales) and eventually, reality caught up with them and they were back in the fourth tier, just 6 years after being in the top one.

Due to their ostensible lack of urgency to reinvest profits back into the club to strengthen it for the long term, accusations of ‘asset stripping’ were directed at the Oystons by supporters. As you’d imagine, the owners didn’t take too kindly to this and they battened down the hatches, refusing to have any meaningful dialogue. The silence saw supporters grow increasingly frustrated, protests turned to boycotts and in the midst of these, insults were traded by both sides (the owners would take legal action against several supporters for libel, whilst chairman, Karl, would receive a 6-week ban from all football activity for labelling a supporter ‘a retard’ in a text message). These incidents ensured that any reconciliation was nigh-on impossible – lifelong supporters chose to not attend games, feeling that any penny they spend would go straight into the pockets of the Oystons.

I read an interesting comment from a fan whilst researching this story – if you weave yourself through too many loopholes, don’t be surprised if you tie yourself in knots. Ultimately, it was one of the Oystons’ business dealings that brought their ownership to an end. In 2006, Latvian businessman, Valeri Belokon, purchased a 20% stake in the club, promising supporters that his ambition was to see Blackpool in the Premier League within 5 years (they got there in 4).  Along with majority shareholder, Owen Oyston, Belokon would personally finance the construction of a new South Stand and South-West corner for the stadium. A year later, Belokon announced that he would be setting up a fund to provide the club with a transfer kitty to purchase players that would help them up the leagues. Keep these investments in mind.

Despite their one season in the Premier League being seen as a great example of how a club on a limited budget can go toe-to-toe with the big boys, alarm bells were ringing before a ball had been kicked. The club took pride in that none of their players were on more than £10,000 a week – indeed, Belokon told the Daily Mail that was the model going forwards. However, anyone with a fleeting knowledge of football economics would know that such a budget isn’t particularly competitive if you’re trying to stay in the Premier League – so were they collecting the TV money in a noble attempt to strengthen the infrastructure of the club, so they’ll be able to return stronger? The stadium (they had to switch their opening Premier League match against Wigan because their ‘temporary’ East Stand wasn’t built) and training ground were cited as major issues for the club throughout the next couple of years.

Fast-forward to 2015 and with Blackpool going backwards and questions being asked about the direction of the club, Belokon took legal action against the Oystons, alleging that they had ‘misused’ club funds. After Belokon resigned as a director of the club in August 2017, the following November saw a court determine that Owen Oyston and his son, Karl, had ‘abused their majority shareholding position in a manner that was detrimental to both the business and Belokon – their findings revealed that £26.77 million had been ‘illegitimately stripped’ from the club, paid to their other various companies. The Oystons were ordered to pay Belokon £31 million to buy out his shares – a sum that forced them to put the club up for sale.

With the help of Belokon-appointed receivers, the shares owned by Oyston (and Belokon himself) were sold to lifelong Blackpool supporter, Simon Sadler this summer, ending 31 years of Oyston rule. Promising a new era for the club, with intelligent investments in the infrastructure and squad – being a trader on the Hong Kong stock market whose work has helped to amass a hedge fund of $3.5 billion, it’s not difficult to feel positive about his pedigree and intentions with a club he genuinely loves.  This quote in his interview with The Guardian best sums this up:

“Somebody had to step up and become the custodian of this club, to make sure that future generations can come here and watch a match, like I did with my dad” (Simon Sadler, Guardian interview, July 2019).

He understands that ultimately, a football club is there to serve the community it represents, not to solely provide businessmen with a means to feather their nests. Let’s not be naïve here; professional football is a business – and like any business, it needs to make money to be viable. However, good businesses do not alienate the vast majority of their ‘customer base’ and fellow investors just to make a quick quid. They value that customer base, listen to them and affect changes (make investments) that are geared towards improving their standing for the long term, giving their customers a ‘brand’ that they can attach themselves to and be proud to do so.

Speaking of alienating customers to make a quick, easy quid (this is how you do a segue, kids), the Northern train franchise have recently been indulging in some seasonal ‘banter’ to try and improve their own brand – and it’s about as welcome as a hole in a dingy. After a year of poor service and calls for the Arriva-owned company to be stripped of its franchise, temporarily renaming Blackpool North station as ‘Blackpool North Pole’ has been met with universal derision – especially when trains to said station continued to be routinely cancelled! I’m all for seasonal laughs but after the year they’ve had, this was a poorly misjudged attempt at marketing. Still, I make a hypocrite of myself by doing a chuckle and taking a snap of the seasonal signage as I disembark off the Avanti West Coast London-Blackpool service (only 35 minutes from Wigan, by the way – on time, plenty of seats and everything).

My first stop on exiting the (Blackpool) North Pole, was the ‘1887 Brew Room’ – recommended by Blackpool blogger and real ale fanatic, Jane Stuart. If you’re interested in reading about the experiences of supporting a League One club, drink and food recommendations (as well as latest going-ons in Coronation Street), then check out her blog. As a fellow beer ponce, the existence of The Brew Room caught my attention as soon as she started describing that the pub had its own on-site brewery and a plethora of external brews – being five minutes from the station, it’s the perfect first pit stop on your way to Bloomfield Road.

Originally known as ‘The Stanley Arms’ (more recently known as ‘The Blue Room’) it’s quite apt that I’m stopping off here on my way to the game, as Blackpool FC were formed as a result of a meeting here on the 26^th July 1887. As you may imagine from a pub that hosts such meetings, it’s big and roomy – the antithesis to the average craft ale bar, which are small and tight, and hosted in spaces that were created for something else (such as a shop, storage or even a former public toilet, like the one I found on a visit to the new Tottenham Hotspur Stadium earlier this year).

What the purpose-built pub brings, that the converted spaces mentioned above necessarily do not, is a snug, comfortable feeling – ideal for when you’re coming off the street on a cold, winter’s day. The welcoming atmosphere is being enjoyed by a range of people – from generic old men blowing the froth off a (craft) bitter, lads out on a pre-Christmas blowout, right through to a family partaking in a game of Battleships (the mum showing no mercy in sinking her son’s ships, whilst the dad looked on, nonplussed). After scanning the beer selection, I go for a pint of ‘Mince Pie Porter’ by Mad Dog Brewing Co (well, it is Christmas) – although it was perfectly palatable, the raisiny flavour was at a minimum, so the liquor slipped down easy enough, but without much fanfare.

Making my way to the stadium, I must congratulate the club for re-introducing the facility for supporters to print their tickets at home – offering a quick and easy way for you to purchase your seat for the match, it sums up the state that the club was in that an innovation like this wasn’t available until this season. (Although, a note to the club here – the margins in which you have to fold the paper could do with looking at; I had to fold mine in an unusual position to get the scanner to read the barcode!)

I’m sat in the Jimmy Armfield Stand, behind the goal, for today’s match. Named after the legendary right-back, Jimmy spent his entire club career at Blackpool, playing the vast majority of his 569 league games in the First Division. Moreover, he was an England regular for the best part of a decade – 43 caps and playing in the 1962 World Cup, as well as being a squad member in ’66. In fact, if it hadn’t have been for an injury at the end of the 1964 season that ruled him out of summer tour with England, opening the door for Fulham’s George Cohen to establish himself as England’s right-back, Jimmy would have been England’s first-choice for that position during that World Cup.

After his playing career, he moved into management with Bolton Wanderers – before replacing Brian Clough after his ill-fated spell at Leeds United. Doing a relatively decent job (including reaching the semi-finals of the 1974-75 European Cup when Bayern Munich – controversially – knocked them out), he was replaced as manager by Jock Stein in 1978. He never managed again – he worked as a journalist for the Daily Express for many years before returning ‘inside’ the game, working as a consultant for the Football Association. He would advise the FA to appoint Terry Venables in 1994 and was later involved in the appointment of Glenn Hoddle. Afterwards, he worked as radio summariser for BBC Five Live – which is how I best know him. 

I enjoyed his radio work, which is something he did up until his death in January 2018. He would talk about the technicalities of a game, whilst sounding like he actually knew what he was talking about – unlike many contemporary pundits (in my opinion). Thinking about this, it’s no surprise that he had such an erudite, well-rounded view of the game – he was a player, a coach, a manager, an FA board member and a journalist, after all!

What strikes me, as I sit down (aside from my arse hitting the plastic seat), is the number of positive affirmations dotted around the ground. These signs contain various BLACKPOOL ARE BACK messages – the boards behind the goal, facing us, telling us we’re 'BACK in this South Stand', [that we need to be] 'BACKING the players', and [we’re] 'BACK in Love'. These reinforce the message that for most supporters in here at least, THEIR Blackpool are back. The away shirts (and advertising boards in the ground) carry the message 'Get Vocal' – but whilst this is promoting a local government initiative to get people talking about their mental health, it can be seen to have a double-meaning, to literally get the supporters to be more vocal whilst supporting their team.

Being a marketing man (though, you wouldn’t think it), seeing things like this suggest to me that the new board and owner know exactly what they're doing – which makes a change. They value the importance of fostering positivity in the supporter base and getting involved with projects that affect the locality. Just to sum this all up, the footer of my ticket contains a #MakeNewMemories tag, which is no doubt designed to encourage supporters to think about the good times they’ve experienced at the club, whilst also joining the new revolution to create more good memories. I think it’s brilliant and I bet the supporters are extremely proud to have a club that puts itself at heart of the community once again – the whole point behind its formation in The Stanley Arms back in July 1887, after all.

The home supporters were certainly 'getting vocal' early on – positioned just outside the League One play-offs, a win would push their side into the top 6 going into Christmas, so those sat in the opposite stand to me busy themselves, willing their side to attack their goal from the first whistle. Except chances were hard to come by – although Blackpool were the better side in the first half, the best opportunity they created was a header from a cross that was tipped over the bar by the goalkeeper. Shrewsbury were quite content with sitting back and absorbing pressure; the best action their supporters had was a bit of banter with the home supporters (“Blackpool is a shithole…I want to go home” was countered with chants of “England…England, England, England”, in reference to the visitors’ proximity to the Welsh border). Here’s hoping for a vast improvement (on the pitch, at least) in the second half…

…and it was. First, Blackpool came within inches of scoring when Armand Gnanduillet’s header across the goal from a corner hit the post. Then the forward turned heel not long later as he handled the ball in his own penalty area from a long-punted free-kick. It seemed innocuous from my vantage point and everyone was shocked – the magic of the highlights showed that he punched the ball away whilst challenging for the header. After much remonstration, Fejiri Okenabirhie stepped up to take the penalty; he drilled the ball down the middle and despite Jak Alnwick getting a good portion of thigh on it, the ball nestled in the roof of his net.

The supporters around me are now urgently willing their side on to level terms; that Christmas play-off place slipping away. They have a great chance to grab an equaliser when they’re awarded a free-kick 25-yards out. “Come on…” whispers a chap behind me, the desperation clear in his voice. Sadly for him and 7,000 others, it was a terrible hit – the ball ballooning high and wide, bouncing on people and empty seats, eventually landing next to me! So I take it upon myself to get in on the action by chucking it to the ballboy (it went straight in his 'breadbasket’, by the way. A magnificent throw). I found the ball to be very grippy, very soft to the touch – I’d imagine this is an attempt to improve a player’s control of the ball. It’s just a shame that it can’t help them to take decent kicks!

Despite my rapid, accurate throwing, the home side didn’t help themselves – creating nothing of note after the free-kick. In fact, Shrewsbury should have had the game wrapped up late on, as a forward went clear of the defence, one-on-one with Alnwick, only to smash the ball into the Blackpool supporters behind the goal.

It finishes 0-1 and despite it (obviously) not being the result that these supporters wanted today, looking in from the outside, it's actually a good thing to see them being unhappy at events on the pitch again, rather than what's happening with the club at boardroom level. As an aside, I think it’ll be beneficial for them to stay at this level for the next few years so they can continue to build up the infrastructure, squad and positive outlook that can help them to stay and progress at Championship level – supporting Wigan, who do have the infrastructure (if not the squad), I know full well that the second tier has grown into a difficult level to stay and progress in.

It's freezing as the game finishes, so I call in my usual Bloomfield Road haunt, the Crazy Scots Bar, for a post-match pint. Just off the Promenade, this bar markets itself as a daytime family sports bar, evening party bar. So, being just after 5 pm, you can imagine that this clash of clientele makes for a very interesting experience. I like it in here as a) it's close to the ground and b) not many match-going supporters seem to come in here after the game. I notice it's now changed its name to 'Happy Scots Bar' ('crazy' doesn't seem to be politically correct?) Their beer selection has improved vastly since I was here last – they've got their own craft bitter and lager on, so I plump for a lager – at just £1.90, it's an absolute steal. It's pretty good too.

Another bar that I wanted to make a beeline for was the Imbibe Tap Room. I collected a flyer for this place from November’s beer festival at Wigan Central (my go-to real ale bar) and was looking forward to trying it out – except a sign on the door said it was shut for two weeks for a refurbishment (at this time of the year?) I console myself with a few pubs on the way back to the station, having a few in The Counting House on the North Promenade, watching Liverpool win the World Club Championship with an extra-time win over Brazilian side, Flamengo; a deserved win, but extremely laboured.

My train back from Blackpool North Pole is done via a Northern train – and get this – not only did it set off on time, it was an electric train! I’ve not been to Blackpool for about a year, so forgive my excitement, but this was the first time that I’ve caught an electric train from there.

It’s 2020 in less than two weeks, by the way.

Anyway, I hope you have a Happy Christmas and a joyful New Year. Here's to more groundhopping, pints, pies and goalmouth scrambles!

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Bamber Bridge vs. Mickleover Sports

We must be in that season again. As I’m boarding the train to a football match, I’m suffering from a slight headache, a sore throat and I’ve been to the toilet three times already this morning. Yes, I’ve got a hangover from an all-day Friday drinking ‘session’ – taking place due to the thinly veiled excuse that ‘it’s Christmas’.

Anyone who has read volume one of my doing the 92 book will recall that I was once sick on a train to Derby after a heavy Friday night’s seasonal drinking – but that was 5 years ago and I’m all growned-up now. I’ve hit upon the revolutionary idea of replenishing my body with water throughout a hard-drinking session to limit the effect of the hangover – like an ageing footballer who changes their diet or does yoga or whatever to prolong their career.

So, I’m in decent shape (for someone who was baiting heavy rock fans by putting reggae on their jukebox last night, anyway) – so I’ve made the short journey to Bamber Bridge to see them take on Mickleover Sports in the Northern Premier League's Premier Division. Being a fan of booze and local history, this trip was right up my street.

Located 3 miles away from Preston, Bamber Bridge is described as an ‘urban village’ – the name deriving from the Old English words ‘bēam’ and ‘brycg’, which are believed to mean ‘tree trunk bridge’. Hosting a population of just over 13,000, the locals refer to the village as ‘Brig’, whilst the villagers themselves are known as ‘Briggers’. In terms of trade, cotton weaved itself into the place; the first factory in Lancashire, dedicated to printing calico (a plain-woven textile), was opened in Bamber Bridge in 1764. This notability hasn’t been forgotten it seems, as a recent housing development in the area saw a street named ‘Calico Close’.

I arrive by train and the station has a level crossing right next to it, putting a stop to traffic on the main road of the village – it’s a rather odd sight when you’re not used to seeing one! There’s another train due in just minutes after my arrival, so I stay standing on the street to see the people and cars, standing still, ready for the train to pass and the barrier to reopen. As soon as the barriers go up, everyone makes like racehorses, running out of their gates – all-in-all, everyone seemed to be quite patient, despite the barrier being down for a good five minutes, with traffic tailing back.

This main artery of the village, Station Road, is filled with several shops, eateries and rather depressingly, a plethora of betting shops (so pretty much like everywhere else in the country!) What I do like about this street though, is that there is a lack of empty spaces and closed-down shops – the only unit that is (clearly) not currently operating as a business has been stripped back to its shell and core, ready for someone to take up residency. It’s whilst walking down here that I make a delightful discovery in 'The Beer Box', a micropub – so obviously, I indulge. As all micropubs are, it’s a tight, homely place with comfortable seating and a chatty atmosphere. I plump for a pint of ‘Wobbly Bob’ – a 6% mid-brown by the Phoenix Brewery – the bitter taste beautifully cleansing my palette of the water I’ve been drinking.

Making my way back up the road, I pass the town’s Trades Hall, and this place has a particular distinction for fans of Blackburn Rovers and Preston North End. Following relegation to Division Two in 1948, Rovers’ supporters buried a coffin in the Bamber Bridge Trades Hall cellar, signifying the ‘death’ of their club. Preston were relegated from Division One a year later and also buried a coffin in the cellar. However, North End would win promotion back two years later, so their coffin was raised to signify the ‘rebirth’ of their club – this is a tradition that has been continued by both sets of supporters ever since. The last time a procession was held was in 2018 when Blackburn won promotion back to The Championship – a parade is held in celebration and supporters take the opportunity to raise money for local charities. The bizarre brilliance of football supporter culture summed up right there!

Brig, like many towns and villages across the country, played host to American GI’s during the Second World War, as the country was used as a giant carrier for the Allies to invade Europe. They brought with them many things; laughs, cultural differences, nylons for the ladies – and racial segregation. The Battle of Bamber Bridge brought the violent reality of American politics into focus for a small area of North West England. The next pub I visit is the Ye Olde Hobb Inn – it was here where it all kicked off.

The village hosted the 1511th Quartermaster Truck Regiment (part of the Eighth Air Force) – a regiment made up, almost entirely by black men (save for all but one officer and military policemen, who were white). Before their arrival in the country, the soldiers were given a pamphlet, offering advice on how to settle into their new surroundings. The best of which was that [in Britain] a ‘great place of recreation is the pub.' Having never seen an American before (let alone a black man), the Briggers welcomed their visitors with much intrigue.

On the 20^th June 1943, race riots kicked off in Detroit and nervous of the prospect of unrest, US officers asked for one of the towns three pubs to be defined as a ‘colour bar’ (shepherding them into one place) – all three pubs ignored the request and instead placed ‘black troops only’ signs on their entrances in support. With tensions high, the last thing you would want is a fight to kick off over something as trivial as last orders – but it did.

After being refused drink after time was called, there was a little commotion (moaning about last orders, basically), drawing the attention of an officer who in turn alerted passing military policemen. One of the soldiers, a Private Eugene Nunn, was collared for wearing a field jacket (instead of his uniform) and not having a pass. The resulting argument drew the ire of Nunn’s unit mates (and the locals), eventually leading the officers to get reinforcements and being ordered to arrest the perpetrators. What happened next is disputed – the soldiers claim that the MP’s threatened them, whilst a British special constable maintained that the MP’s approached the situation calmly – whatever happened, it ended with Nunn throwing a punch and an officer firing off a round that hit a soldier in the neck.

Despite attempts to calm the situation (by making use of the unit’s only black officer), several soldiers left camp to confront the MP’s – and both fired on each other, on the streets of Bamber Bridge. Starting at around midnight on the 25^th June 1943, The Battle of Bamber Bridge ended with one black soldier, Private William Crossland, dead and four wounded (two soldiers, two MP’s). 32 soldiers were court marshalled for various crimes including mutiny, seizing arms, rioting and firing upon the MP’s and officers.

All sentences were reduced on appeal; the use of racial slurs and poor leadership were cited as mitigating factors, but it was probably the embarrassment of a ‘race war’ kicking off on foreign soil that was enough for the Americans to try and sweep the incident under the carpet. As a result, morale improved amongst black troops stationed in England and the number of court marshals and (crucially for the unmarried British women, by all accounts) sexually-transmitted diseases fell. What a place to leave this otherwise ghastly story.

The pub sits on the end of Station Road and with its thatched roof, looks out of time with the rest of the buildings nearby. This is no surprise, as the pub is 400 years old! I’m quite fortunate to visit here today, rather than at the start of the season, as it’s only just reopened after a year out, suffering from fire damage. Inside, it’s snug – there are several tight, cosy rooms with contemporary décor and tellies showing sport. I don’t have too much time to spend in here but everything I do see is impressive – from the politeness of the staff, the food menu and of course, the beer selection (I plump for a Moretti).

Located roughly half-a-mile from the centre of the village, the home ground of Bamber Bridge Football Club is named the ‘Sir Tom Finney Stadium’ in honour of the legendary Preston and England forward after his death in 2014. Previously known as ‘Irongate’ (taking its name from the immediate area), the club moved here in 1987 after spending the previous four years developing the derelict land they purchased. Today, it has a capacity of 3000, with 550 seats and 800 covered spots. Blackburn Rovers Ladies play their Women's Championship games here, so there's a reason for me to return for another look at the rest of the village('s pubs), at least!

The ground’s record attendance is 2,300 for a friendly match against the Czech Republic national team shortly before Euro 96 (the Czechs were using Irongate as a training ground). Fresh off winning the Northern Premier League, Brig played a Czech side with Karel Poborsky, Patrik Berger, Pavel Nedved and Vladimír Šmicer in their team – and were promptly beaten 9-1. Still, the Czechs got to the final of Euro 96 and took Germany to extra-time (before losing to the first-ever ‘golden goal’), so it was an honourable loss for the part-timers!

The club can trace its roots back to 1952, as a Bamber Bridge Football Club played in the Preston & District League. It wasn’t until 1974 and through a merger with Walton-le-Dale that the present Bamber Bridge FC were formed; the ‘new’ club playing in the same league as their previous incarnation. The move to their own home (as opposed to playing on council pitches) allowed them to grow and progress; several Preston & District League titles followed, their success and growth forming the basis of a bid to join the North West Counties League in 1990.

Progressing on to the NPL, their title win in ’96 should have seen them promoted to the Football Conference, but Irongate was deemed not suitable for the league and they were denied a place in the fifth tier of English football. Since then, they have been consistent members of the NPL, with league reconstructions now deeming its top division as the seventh tier, rather than the sixth. The club's highlight of the last twenty years was reaching the second round of the FA Cup in 2000, narrowly losing to League One side, Cambridge United.

This season, Brig haven’t made the best of starts – in fact, they’re down near the bottom end of the table and manager, Joey Collins, left his job in the week. The club have posted on their website that they expect to announce some news of a managerial appointment in the week but in the meantime, Director of Football (and former first team manager), Neil Cowe and goalkeeping coach, Stuart Barton, are taking the team for today.

I can’t describe the Sir Tom Finney Stadium as anything other than ‘tidy’; not just there’s a lack of litter about the place, but the layout of the ground and the facilities are neatly organised – as soon as I’m through the turnstile (£10 entry) a raffle ticket seller appears from thin air to offer me a strip (of tickets). My favourite part of the ground is seeing the balcony that overlooks one of the goals – people are stood atop it, pints in hand, watching the action. I take a seat in the stand for much of the match; the side-on angle affording me a great view of an entertaining first half as four goals were scored. Brig take the lead after just 6 minutes; a free-kick from around 30 yards out being whipped into the top corner.

I notice that Mickleover have an old, bald No.9 playing upfront and I immediately think ‘that can’t be Lee Hughes, can it?’ After the same player equalised from a rebound just a few minutes after the opening goal, it was confirmed it was him – the former West Bromwich Albion and Coventry City striker still knocking about semi-pro football at the age of 43. It’s been over a decade since I last saw him play – he ran rings around a ‘Premier League’ Wigan Athletic defence in the FA Cup and League Cup, whilst he was playing in League Two (and later League One) for Notts County. Despite him looking much better than the level he was playing at, at the time, I think it’s reasonable to say that he was considered ‘damaged goods’ by clubs higher up the leagues – his career was curtailed in 2004 after he was found guilty of death by dangerous driving and jailed for six years (serving three). Perhaps those lost years are a factor in him still ploughing up the pitches in non-league football.

Despite being pegged back, Brig push forward and almost go back ahead when a cross into the Mickleover penalty area is hit towards the goal, only for the goalkeeper to make a diving save. It proved to be a frustrating moment as a few minutes later, Mickleover take the lead from a corner – whipped in, straight onto a head, straight in the back of the net. Rather than feel down about it, as any side in poor form that has just lost their manager may do, Brig continued to put pressure on their visitors, as a header from a cross was a whisker away from dropping under the bar.

Just before the injury time is announced, and it seeming Mickleover will go in leading, Brig equalise. Alistair Waddecar cuts inside from the left, isn’t closed down by the defence and his resulting shot beats the outstretched hand of the goalkeeper to nestle into the corner. I pay a visit to the clubhouse during the break to have a nosy around, but mainly to have a wee. Like the rest of the ground, it looks a tidy place – plenty of space, comfortable seating, tellies, staff dressed as elves and good beers on tap. Suffering from the onset of heartburn and a night's drinking ahead, I forgo a pint and indulge in my water.

The ‘balcony end’ certainly plays its part in the second half, as the Mickleover goalie gets all sort of good-natured banter from the drinkers above. One particular cross is misjudged so badly that the keeper punches it back towards his own goal and needed a last-ditch clearance from a defender to prevent it from going in. From the resulting corner, Waddecar was again afforded space and this time he flicked a header across goal and into the far corner of the net, erupting the banter lads above.

Brig have a couple of chances to wrap the game up; a volley that dipped towards goal, hitting the top of the netting, and an effort that went wide of the post. Mickleover didn’t provide much threat; Hughes had been pushed out wide in the second half and was clearly lacking in legs before being replaced. The home side held on for a much-needed victory that gives them a bit more breathing space from the relegation zone – the players taking some well-deserved applause from most around the ground, especially those on the balcony, who I now suspect were also out on a few pre-Christmas drinks.

So, that was my trip to Bamber Bridge. All that remains is for me to get back on the train to Wigan – and do some more boozing myself. Changing in Preston, I get on a Virgin Train home for the final time – with their West Coast franchise ending at the end of today, the trains that took me to/from Preston already had their exteriors scrubbed bare. Apparently, new franchise holders, Avanti (owned by FirstGroup and Italian firm, Trenitali), have promised refurbished trains with all mod cons – like seating. We shall see.

I ended up meeting some mates to watch the Ruiz-Joshua fight – a masterclass in planning, technique and precision. No, not AJ’s unanimous points win, us putting into practice our strategy to get the best table in the pub to see the telly. With a bottle of water from the Morrisons in Bamber Bridge inside my belly, I’m ready for another night for boozing. Well, it is Christmas (apparently), after all. 

Bamber Bridge 3

Mickleover Sports 2

Attendance: 291

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Stalybridge Celtic vs. Buxton

Aside from having a football team, most towns in the country will have something notable about it that provides some riveting conversation between you and someone from there (whilst you’re on holiday in Benidorm or wherever). It could be a trade they’re famous for, a gruesome moment in history, a celebrity who’s from there – perhaps their football club reflects the town’s notability in some way. 

For us groundhoppers, the opportunity to visit new grounds in unfamiliar towns allows us to immerse ourselves in these facts, to learn more about them and even join in with whatever it is. This is why I’m in Stalybridge this afternoon – and it was an absolute pleasure to arrange. I’m off to see Stalybridge Celtic in Northern Premier League action against Buxton – and to visit the pub with the longest name in the UK for a pint or six on a bitter Saturday in late-November. 

Yes, The Old Thirteenth Cheshire Astley Volunteer Rifleman Corps Inn being the longest pub name in the UK is the notable fact that Stalybridge should be famous for! Located close to the railway station (turn right, walk under the bridge, you can see the massive sign right away), the pub isn’t actually the first version of The Rifleman. The original, which held the Guinness World Record, closed in late-2015.

Originally named ‘The New Inn’, it first changed to ‘The Thirteenth Cheshire Rifleman Inn’  – this earned it a place in the first edition of The Guinness Book of Records in 1951 as ‘the pub with the longest name’. It seems that they were involved in a tit-for-tat war with other lengthy-named pubs (such as The London, Chatham and Dover Railway Tavern, and the Ferret and Firkin in the Balloon Up The Creek, both in London) – the extra words added to the Rifleman name over the years saw the Cheshire pub grab the title back.

After securing a premises to open a new pub earlier this year, landlady, Sarah Farrer-Baxter, thought long-and-hard about a name. By chance, she was well acquainted with The Rifleman’s former owners who on hearing the news, offered her the use of the name in order to keep it (and Stalybridge) on the map. Whilst delighted with the offer, Sarah indicated that reality hurt a little bit when it came to paying for the lettering!

It’s a fantastic story, something that is so quintessentially British; a pub in a provincial town having to battle the big city for the honour of having the longest name, just to create some notability for their community. Thinking about it, there could be a good TV drama made from two pubs trying to outdo each other over seemingly trifling issues as ‘having the longest name’. As long as there’s a decent script, mind (call me, producers).

Brilliantly, as I walk into the pub at around 1.30 pm, there’s only one other customer in! Although they have a decent range of premium lagers on, there’s nothing in the way of real or craft ales (that I can see – apologies if there were) for us beer ponces to get excited about, so I plump for a pint of Amstel. It’s a smart, well-lit place but it doesn’t feel like a traditional pub – more of a modern ‘bar’ with its bright walls, lighting and second floor with a swirly staircase.

The lad who’s serving is very friendly though, pub name emblazoned on his back, as he’s clearing some glasses away, he apologises for getting in the way of viewing of the pub telly – which he didn’t. As I’m watching the end of the West Ham-Tottenham game (Jose Mourinho’s first game in charge of Spurs – which they win 3-2), the place fills up nicely; there are about 10 people in as I leave just after 2 pm. To sum up; nice place, decent beers, friendly staff, good-sized tellies to watch sport, just don’t expect a traditional pub experience.

Aside from pubs, the other notable thing about Stalybridge is the football club. Formed in 1909 (although there’s some circumstantial evidence that it may have been formed in 1906), the club’s heyday was in the 1920s when for two seasons, they were members of The Football League having formed the Third Division North with 19 other sides.

They had a great first season – finishing 7^th in a league won by near neighbours, Stockport County. Despite finishing 11^th the season after, the club resigned citing that they ‘couldn’t get sufficient support to justify a Football League side’ – which sounds odd, considering their average attendance of 5,400 was some 2,000 more than Rochdale, who finished a place below them. Was this a ‘sliding doors’ moment? Rochdale have stayed in The Football League ever since and currently ply their trade in League One.

After spending the majority of their existence knocking about the non-league pyramid, Stalybridge are currently battling at the top end of the Northern Premier League (Premier Division) table; holding onto the final play-off place. Coached by former Coventry, Wigan and Tranmere striker, Simon Haworth (scorer of many a great goal, including a particular favourite of mine at the old Wembley – see below), the Welsh international is carving out a decent non-league managerial career after spells at Eagley and Clitheroe a level or two below – so I’m interested in seeing how he’s getting on.

The club’s ground, Bower Fold, is located just over a mile from the town centre and has a capacity for around 6,000 spectators. The record attendance for a match involving Stalybridge was when 9.753 rocked up to see them in FA Cup first round replay action in January 1923, as they lost 2-0 against West Bromwich Albion. In more recent times, a crowd of 3,312 attended a second round FA Cup tie against Football League Third Division Chester City in 1999. Despite Andy Scott’s extraordinary goal (see the highlights below, it’s well worth it), Chester grew into the game and scored twice without reply to send them into the third round – where they faced Manchester City (then playing in the First Division).


The record attendance at Bower Fold, however, is believed to be as many as 10,300 when the famous women’s side, Dick, Kerr Ladies beat a ‘Rest of Lancashire XI’ 10-0 in 1921, raising around £600 (£29.000 in 2018, when adjusted for inflation) in aid of the local hospital. I say the crowd was ‘believed’ to be that many, as in those days, they could never be sure – some say the attendance could have been anywhere between 12-14,000). What we do know for a fact, is that Bower Fold is the only football ground in the country where the pitch apparently faces a perfect north.

Whilst researching the club (seeing if the game was going ahead, in truth) I see that they put out a plea for supporters to attend the game in big numbers, as they’re struggling for money – although I’d imagine most clubs at these levels are struggling, Stalybridge not having a home game in the league since the 12^th October hasn’t helped matters. The press release, urging people to attend, encouraged attendees to also indulge in a pint. So naturally, I did.

Passing through the turnstile (£10 entry), I immediately catch sight of the supporters club straight ahead. Inside, it looks a bit swanky; it looks and feels more like a wedding reception venue with its wide-open spaces, smart seating, vast white walls and one-or-two ornate decorations. I indulge in a pint of Kronenberg, poured into a doubled-up plastic container and sashayed outside with it, giggling to myself that I’m allowed to drink this pint of lager by the side of the pitch – the novelty still hasn’t worn off. The weather outside even cools my pint for me as I stand behind the goal, waiting for the game to start.

As I’m stood there, a bipedal badger walks past, handing out sweets to several kids who have been running around the terrace (as if they need more sugar!). What happened next took me by surprise – the badger walked to a shed, opened the door, ducked in and locked it. What’s going on here? It’s then I see that the shed is positioned in front of what (I assume) is the club’s old supporters club – the prefab building is locked, looking a little shabby and (the big giveaway) it has ‘Social Club Bar’ written on it. There’ve certainly upgraded with the wedding venue they’ve got now, anyway. A few minutes after the badger locked the door of the shed, it swings open to reveal a woman, a human woman – what’s she done with the badger?

Instead of reporting a possible badger murder to the police, I settle down to watch the match – supping my pint in the roofed terrace behind the goal. The home side make a decent start; passing the ball about nicely, looking for space in the Buxton defence – their first opportunity arriving courtesy of a shot-on-the turn that just cleared the crossbar. 10 minutes in, Ross Dent is the recipient of some more tidy play; he sneaks into the penalty area before opening out his body (not literally – it means 'turning your body into a comfortable position’) and guiding a centred-ball into the top corner of the net. Brilliant finish – one that certainly warms up the crowd around me, as the temperature continues to drop.

Buxton immediately try to put some pressure on their hosts and without a couple of timely interceptions at the back, they could have grabbed an equaliser. Stalybridge (or ‘Bridge’ as people around me are shouting) ride it out and could have even been two-ahead just before half-time as a volley-whilst-falling-on-your-arse (okay, an ‘acrobatic’ volley) smashed the crossbar and bounced away.

Half-time is spent in the wedding venue, as I sup on another cold pint to warm myself up (!) Early in the second half, Bridge do get their deserved second goal as Darius Osei seizes upon a loose ball in the area, turns and fires it into the back of the net. It’s a good job they have online match reports and videos – when it went in, I was finishing off my Kronie in the bar. Whoops!

I transfer myself to The Lord Tom Pendry Stand for the second half – named after the town’s former long-serving MP, this is the newest stand at the ground (built in 2004) and has over 650 seats. The main stand opposite has room for just over 700 people and was completed in 1996. Part of the reason why I chose to sit down for the second half was to get a different perspective of the match, the other because the regular supporters had moved down to the end where I was to watch their side attack the goal (so I lost my spot, due to babysitting a Kronie) and the final reason, was because it was colder than a White Walker’s heart now!

The -23 temperature (at least) didn’t bother the players much, as Bridge continued to control the game and eke out opportunities; a goal was ruled out for offside and Dent nearly bagged a second as his header was bound for the goal if not for the intervention of the visiting goalkeeper. A late chance sees a Bridge player go clear of the defence, but his chip over the keeper was just-about cleared off the line.

It finishes as a fully-deserved 2-0 win for the home side – Buxton unable to lay a glove on their opponents for the vast majority of the match. This win keeps Stalybridge in 5th, 7 points from top and automatic promotion. The crowd was announced as being 423 – which is up by 131 from their last home match in the league. Good news all round for the club, then!

I’m off back down to the town centre for a few more scoops – first stop is the Wetherspoons for some generic fish and chips. I then make a point of visiting ‘Bridge Beers’, which is a bottle shop and craft ale bar. The owner is friendly enough, guides me through the beers that were on tap – I have a pint of the pale ale Odin by Brightside brewery. I must say that I love a nice pale, hoppy blonde...ale. There’s a great array of bottles on sale behind me, but I decide to move on – 10 yards down the street to another real ale bar, The Craft Pint. This place is a bit more 'happening', as I walk in, I nearly bump into two greyhounds who are supping out of a bowl (water, before you worry – unless it was vodka?). My pint of choice here is ‘Deception’ by Abbeydale – sounds more like perfume than a 4.1% pale ale, but it’s something that I wouldn't mind wearing again.

Now there’s one fact about Stalybridge that I’ve left out until now (two actually, we’ll get to the next one in a minute) – not only does the town boast the pub with the longest name, It has the pub with the SHORTEST name too, located next-door-but one to the Rifleman! The pub is called ‘Q’ (technically it’s called ‘The Q Inn’, so it leaves it open for usurpers to steal the crown), and it’s fantastic. As soon as I walk in, the ‘traditional’ pub fixtures and fittings soak into your eyes, it’s tightly built, there’s a fire roaring and they have real ales on tap – the only thing that’s missing is a dog scampering around! I get a pint of their house beer ('Q Ale' - a 3.8% golden ale), which goes down rather nicely.

I round the day off with a visit to the Buffet Bar – the other attraction to Stalybridge that I haven’t mentioned. Apparently, this is one of very few remaining 'refreshment rooms' in the country and now mostly houses a real ale emporium in its narrow but long structure. With 20 minutes until I need to catch the train, I decide to grab a swift cider – but I didn’t account for the rowdiness of the lads, lads, lads that frequent train stations at 8 pm on a Saturday evening.

Now, think about the penultimate scene in Brief Encounter. Imagine if Dolly Messiter was pissed on craft cider, unknowingly costing the two philanderers (which is ultimately what they were – Fred was a lovely husband, an absolute innocent who deserved better), their final moment of love. Well, that’s exactly what it was like, as the lads were ‘having the banter’ right in front of the bar, slowing down the queuing, preventing me from a treasured juicy delight.

However, unlike the doomed ‘couple’ in the film, I managed to shake off these Dollies, squeeze myself near the bar, get my pint and have it supped in time for the train. In other words, the refreshment room at Stalybridge is best visited on a weekday.

I’m definitely coming back to visit though. Cheers! 

Stalybridge Celtic 2

Buxton 0

Attendance: 423

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