Saturday 22th November 2014
Second Round Proper
St Margaretsbury v Ipswich Wanderers
The Recreation Ground
Stansted Abbots
SG12 8EH
K.O. 3.00pm
Half time 2-0
Final score 3-0
1-0 Brett O’Connor 21
mins
2-0 Ed Horey 45+2
mins
3-0 James Buckle (OG)
69 mins
Admission £8
Programme FREE with admission – A5 size, 22 pages not
including the cover, 10 pages of adverts.
Miles travelled approximately 10
Attendance 55
destiny noun (pl destinies)
1 the events that will happen to a person or thing in the
future: we share a common destiny.
2 the power believed to control the future; fate.
ORIGIN from Latin destinare
‘make firm, establish’.
Source, Compact Oxford English Dictionary – 2008 edition.
I greeted Sunday 2nd November with a hangover
from hell, not through alcohol but lack of sleep and dehydration. I staggered
towards my porn machine and started to write the blog. Before I had a chance to
hit “Publish” I deleted the line, I don’t
suppose there’s any chance of St Margaretsbury in the next round…? I mean really, who would believe me…
Monday 3rd November, St Margaretsbury v Ipswich
Wanderers. Ha! Ha! Ha! You’ve got to be kidding me – or words to that effect. I
double checked the FA website. Had I read that right? I had. Later on that
evening I sent an E Mail to Gary and Richard at St Margaretsbury, it simply
read,
Gary, Richard,
HELLO!
I'm at it again.
http://nogginwalsall.blogspot.co.uk/
See you in two weeks.
Noggin xx
HELLO!
I'm at it again.
http://nogginwalsall.blogspot.co.uk/
See you in two weeks.
Noggin xx
Richard replied,
What a coincidence! Great to hear from you mate… Put
your drinking boots on… As usual for big matches, you're my guest and I shall
invite dear old Norman along too!
Well that’s sorted then, well, apart from the fact I’ll
be a Wanderer for the day.
Hold on, “drinking boots”? OH NO! Not Beer Pong again…
I greeted Saturday 22nd November with a
hangover from Famous Grouse. I looked out of the window, dull, grey, miserable,
very low cloud, living between two rivers doesn’t help things either. I checked
the weather forecast and it wasn’t good. It was supposed to rain all day. I
dived on the St Margaretsbury web site. KEEP CALM and GAME ON!
Hot sweet milky tea, then another, then another and
another… On goes the TV and I start to watch the GP qualifying from Abu Dhabi.
As if by magic, the familiar sound of karts from Rye House Kart Circuit drifts
across the river cutting through the mist. Give it 10 years and those kart
racers will be doing what Hamilton and Rosberg are doing, fighting for the F1
World Championship. For all the people that don’t know, Rye House Kart Circuit
is where Hamilton learnt his craft.
I left home just after noon, 4.7 miles and eleven minutes
later I’m parking up. It was surprisingly warm considering the weather, it
started to spit and out of the corner of my eye I saw Richard in the car park
semi naked and in the middle of getting changed and I started to cough,
splutter and choke… PUT IT AWAY!
Here’s something I hadn’t thought about, it’s all good
and very well for me to treat St Margaretsbury as my club, but as I walked off
to take photos of the ground I suddenly thought… erm… erm… erm… What do I take
photos of that I haven’t already taken? I suddenly realised the problem that
comes from familiarity.
The Disappearance of Elvis the Mouse – Is the mystery
solved?
As I walked towards the pitch I started to bump into St
Margaretsbury staff who had already been here for three hours or more. I was
invited down to the pitch, which looked great. We’d had a stupid amount of rain
over the last few days and it was in fantastic condition.
The photos done I slipped and slithered towards the club
house, up jumps Steve Barker, “NOGGIN! I’ve got a ticket for you, Gary made it and
I printed it”, he said, has he handed me the ticket. I laughed like a drain and
then I read it properly and laughed even more. It’s good to be back.
I finally found myself at the bar ordering a cup of tea
just in time to turn around and see Norman Ingram walk through the door. I kid
you not. Well Richard did warn me. Let the banter begin.
As we stood in the bar chatting, someone shouted across
the room, “The team coach is here”, Steve and Richard were up and out like a
shot. Off the coach they spill and into the bar Ipswich pile. Tim spots me and points
me the direction of someone I can get badges from. Surprisingly for me a lot of
the Ipswich staff and their supporters come over to me and say hello.
To add to the events of the day St Margaretsbury were
going to hold a quiz night to raise funds for the football club, some of the
Ipswich staff said to me that if they’d have known they would have entered a
team and travelled home later on that night. As it was a lot of them put their
hands into their pockets and entered the raffles and cards, which I thought was
a lovely touch. They didn’t have to do it, but they were more than happy to
help raise funds for a different club, a club that they were about to play in
the FA Vase. I was starting to remember why I enjoyed my time with them two
weeks ago. Ipswich Wanderers, Suffolk’s answer to St Margaretsbury?
Funniest story of the day? I promise this is true.
Someone from IWFC ran into the bar and interrupted our conversation, “Where can
I get water from?” He asked very excitedly while waving bottles at us. “The
tap”, replied Richard, completely straight faced. I could have filled his
bottles with what dribbled out of me. Clean pants please…
While all of that was going I found myself back at the
bar ordering a pint of IPA – that’s Individually Picked Asian tea to you – as I
stood there shooting up on sugar and caffeine I thought to myself. I know him,
and I did, it was Ali, one of my old customers from Newmarket. He’s actually
Egyptian and no, I haven’t seen his Mummy… Ali is a Level 4 Referee but today
he would be running the line and we spent a good 15 to 20 minutes just catching
up.
Before I knew it more VIP’s had arrived, not only was
Norman here representing the Spartan South
Midlands League but up waltzed Dave Henman, both of whom are members of the Management
Committee if that wasn’t enough Brian Smith The President of the Spartan South
Midlands League also showed up.
The weather was trying to turn for the worse. It tried so
hard to rain.
All too soon it was time for the football. What do mean
you’d forgotten… More of that damn silly hand shake nonsense. I know I mention it every time, but it just
bugs me. Actually, as I’ve just written that I’ve changed my mind. It’s not at
this level that it bugs me - even though I still think it’s a waste of time –
it’s at the professional level that it bugs me. There is no respect at the
professional level. Cheats. Liars. The game is full of them. At this level,
it’s genuine, honest and truthful.
The Ref takes a swing at Ed
Ed takes fancy to Ali – get a room…
The Ref tells the linesman that it doesn’t matter if he
does look like Dave Whelan you can’t use the word C****
Thankfully the game was a lot better than the last time I
saw Ipswich. Probably due to the pitch. Probably due to the opposition. Either
way I wasn’t too bothered, a really good old fashion game of footy. Not kick it
a rush. Just good old fashioned getting stuck in.
Both teams tried to take hold of the game. Both failed.
There was really nothing in it. A few chances were created but nothing of any
real quality until the 20th minute when the ball fell to the feet of
Brett O’Connor just inside the box from a cross from the left. He controlled it,
picked his spot and slammed his shot hard, straight and low past the keeper.
The goal seemed to settle both teams down. The game was
certainly in St Margaretsbury’s favour but they weren’t having all of the game
and it certainly wasn’t one way traffic. Ipswich went close to scoring on a few
occasions one of them coming from a very well worked break. Literally one end
to the other with only a class save from the keeper stopping the score being
levelled.
The supporters were having fun too. One of the old timers
from the Bury’ shouted “Come on 10 get fit…” at the Ipswich striker, not the
greatest ever heckle and in response the Ipswich support started to try to get
a chat going, only to find the same old timer shouting, “Could you be quiet
please… we’re trying to sleep…” I was so busy laughing I could hardly take
notes.
Half time threatened to break up the fun but not before
Ipswich gave away a cheap free kick, about 2 to 3 yards from the touch line and
18 yards - ish from the by line. Over came the cross and just like a shoal of
fish all the players moved in one direction towards the ball, Ed Horey managed
to out jump all the other fish and put the ball in the net.
After the game I found out that the goal was officially
recorded as 45+2 and within seconds of the game kicking off it was half time.
By the time I’d got to the bar I’d missed the half time
scores so I had to wait for it scroll across the bottom of the screen.
Fleetwood 0 Walsall 1 REALLY!?
Upstairs to the Board Room for tea and cake and it was
lemon drizzle cake too. Not only did Richard send me an E Mail informing me I
was his guest, not only did Gary and Steve make me the ticket but Richard was
most insistent that I should go up to the Board Room at half time and full time
for refreshments. By the time I’d stopped stuffing my face I just about caught
the start of the second half.
While I was in the Board Room I grab the said member of
the Ipswich staff and asked about buying two pin badges. “They are £2.50 each,
but I don’t have any with me”, he said, before removing his own badge and then
literally grabbing hold of another member of staff and removing his badge… He
didn’t ask he just removed the badge and the deal was done… and you think I’m
joking.
The second half continued where the first had left off,
just a really good game of footy. Personally I don’t think St Margaretsbury
were in any real danger of losing while Ipswich were in no real danger of
winning the game, as daft as it probably reads, but while the score was at 2-0
there was still that chance of a goal from Ipswich, which as well all know,
would change the dynamics of the game.
St Margaretsbury continued to press missing an absolute
sitter around 55 mins by heading the ball over the bar, it was that classic
case of it would have been easier to score, but that was put right on 69 mins
when constant but subtle pressure from
St Margaretsbury lead to a forced own goal from James Buckle. To be fair to
James, if he hadn’t have scored then someone else would have. A lovely floated
ball in towards the far post lead to a rush on goal and in the confusion
Ipswich found themselves looking down the barrel at 3-0.
Surprisingly the game moved towards 90 minutes sooner
than later, which is always the sign of a good game. Talking of a good game,
the Ref and Linesmen had a really good game too. OK, it was an easy game the
ref but, it’s all relative, if anyone of them had stuffed up a decision then
what was an easy game to ref suddenly wouldn’t have been, so lets give credit
where credit is due…
I blinked. The Ref blew for full time and everyone went
to the club house, except me. I went looking for that last photo, that last
story, just goes to show how wrong you can be. I think I got the last photo but
I hadn’t got the last story, not by a long way.
The weirdest story of the day? As soon as the Ref blew
for full time the mist started to roll in from the river. It was just like Top Of
The Pops or one of those Hammer House horror films, it just started to crawl
across the pitch like a living breathing animal slowly and surely enveloping
anything in its path. After 10 minutes there was no sign of Legs & Co and let’s
be honest what are the odds of me being ravaged by a Virgin Lesbian Vampire…
knowing my luck I’d get Boris Bleedin’ Karloff…
Eventually I found my way back to the club house. Walsall
lost 3-1 someone shouted at me as I moved towards the TV… *SIGH* I stood and I
waited for the results to roll around. Fleetwood 0 Walsall 1 RESULT! Top Banana…
We are the first team to win there in 9 months. We’ve always loved going to
Highbury (Dear Gooners… See what I did there…?). HOLD ON! You said we’d lost…
GIT!
Back up to the Board Room for more tea and cakes. It was
rammed. Everyone was in good spirits. The match officials made their way up.
Contact details swopped. I went off to find Richard to get the goal scorers and
times confirmed.
Eventually I found him in the rear bar which was now his temporary
office.
ME. “Can I get some information off you please?” I asked.
RP. “Of course you can. What do you need?” He replied.
ME. “Goal scorers and times please”, quickly taking
notes, before asking, “And what was the attendance?”
RP. “55”
ME. “Will you break even?” I asked hoping for a positive
answer.
RP. “Far from it…“ He started to trail off.
ME. “Really? I won’t put it in the blog”, I said.
RP. “OH NO! Please do”. He said while still typing away
on his porn machine.
ME. “So I can go for it, I can let people know the truth
about running a football club at this level?” I persisted.
RP. “You have my permission.” He replied.
So, there it is. The final story of the day. The truth.
The reality of running a football at this level. At the start of play both
teams were still in with a chance of getting one step closer to appearing in a
Wembley final. Now there was only one, St Margaretsbury. St Margaretsbury are
in the last 64. They are six games from Wembley including a two legged Semi
Final. And yet both teams today have made a financial loss.
There’s your story. Gary, Richard, Steve and far too many
other members of staff to mention, do a normal every day job just like you and
me. They do 40, 50, 60 hours a week just like you and me and THEN they do this.
They work another hand full of hours every day, either at the club or from home.
Then there’s match days. EIGHT? TEN? TWELVE HOURS? All unpaid. I bet no one
even says thank you.
I banged about this last year on my FA Cup trail. I didn’t
know. I’d never thought about it, or them. The football fairies that sprinkle
their local non-league football club with fairy dust and make it happen. As if
by magic. Well it’s not magic. IT’S A MIRICLE!!!
Where ever you are when reading this, your local non-league
football club is looked after by your very own football fairies. So next time
little Johnny guilt trips you into buying this seasons new Premiership team
shirt for £50 before turning himself into Merchandise Mike, just stop for a
second and think about this.
Yes you could spend £50 on a shirt, or you could take
yourself and little Johnny down to your local non-league team and watch a game
of football, played in the right spirit. With players that don’t spit, or swear
at the officials or each other for that matter, that don’t roll around on the
floor like they’ve been shot every time they get tackled, that play football to
a very high standard and play it properly. And you know something, that £50
that you could spend on a Premiership shirt, well you could spend £10 or £20
down your local non-league team and IT WOULD ACTUALLY MAKE A DIFFERENCE!
You never know, little Johnny might end up playing in one
of the many kids teams that most non-league clubs have, there’s plenty of girls
teams too.
It’s not just a non-league football club. It’s YOUR non-league
football club.
Dude, Where’s My Horse? While I was up my ivory tower
some rotter has robbed my horse.
As I was writing that Lewis Hamilton has just become the
2014 F1 World Champion and I promise I can still hear karts going around that
track on the other side of the river.
So, where was I? I spent the next hour or so listening to
stories that if I put on here you wouldn’t believe. St Margaretsbury staff. Ipswich
Wanderers staff. The Officials. The League Representatives. They all told their
stories. They were all exactly the same and yet completely different because
they were personal to them and their clubs and committees.
The game is alive and well and living in a community near
you. I still think that there is something very wrong at the pointy end of the
pyramid, but at its base, at its grass roots, its fine, it’s more than fine.
Its future’s bright and growing brighter…
The evening moved towards the night. The fund raising
quiz grew closer and I disappeared into the night mist… Here Vampy Vampy Vampy…
I went home via Sainsbury’s and bought a handful of
Lottery tickets. I didn’t win, so St Margaretsbury don’t get the cash. I’ll
just have to spend more money at the bar next time I go. The sacrifices I make…
View from the North Bank
View from the East Stand
View from the South Bank
View from the West Stand
Noggin xx
