Really silly things I've done...: December 2014

Saturday 06^th December 2014

Third Round Proper

St Margaretsbury v Stanway Rovers

The Recreation Ground

Stansted Abbots

SG12 8EH

K.O. 3.00pm

Half time 0-1

Final score 0-2

1-0 Jake Clowsley 33 mins

2-0 Mark Maher 56 mins

Admission £8

Programme FREE with admission – A5 size, 22 pages not including the cover, 10 pages of adverts.

Miles travelled approximately 10

Attendance 88

And that’s another thing. When does the day actually start?

Those lovely people at Greenwich would have you believe that it’s at 00.00 (the Meridian Line actually goes through my kitchen – it’s never made me a cup of tea though…) but for me, today actually started at 22.30 Thursday 4^th December when my alarm clock went off. My shift started at 00.30 Friday 5^th and finished at 22.15 Friday 5^th. No. Really. It did. This is what happens when pen pushers get involved with route planning.

In a strange twist of football fate, one of my drops was in Kidderminster. This time last year I was in Kidderminster doing the FA Cup (Rd2 Kidderminster v Newport County) I remember when all of this was TV crews and rosettes, now it was empty, deserted, miserable, still I smiled like a loony once I’d realised the connection and as I stood on my tail lift in the cold I remembered the fun, the people and in my head I wished them all a peaceful Xmas and a happy new year.

St Margaretsbury FC… It’s not just for Christmas…

By the time I’d got home, stopped climbing the walls and wound down it was 03.00 Saturday 6^th. On with the khaki, out with the Elephant Gun and off to explore the dark distant corners of the bedroom in the hope of finding the greater lesser spotted king size bed with NASA memory foam mattress.

07.00 arrived four hours sooner than I needed it too. Into the kitchen to find that the Meridian Line still hadn’t made me a cup of tea or done the washing up. GUTTED!

In a strange twist of football fate, for Richard and Steve, today also started on Thursday. They had been watching the weather forecasts and had made the early decision that Friday into Saturday would mean that local conditions would offer everyone close to zero degrees and would give them a golden opportunity to do some good ground work.

Their plan was to get to the ground nice and early on Saturday and while the pitch was still hard, they would roll it, cut it and get it all marked out and set up and then let the thaw take its place in the events of the day. Steve and Richard arrived at the ground around 08.00 they whipped out with their wands and the football fairies began working their magic.

While Richard and Steve were busy waving their wands around I was busy jacking up on caffeine. The sky was a bright light blue. The air was clean, crisp. Christmas lights were blinking away on the houses in the road. That three legged cat was hopping across the street. Xmas songs blasted out of every TV advert. The radio offered me nothing better and unable to beat them I grabbed a Xmas CD and headed to the car.

I deliberately got to the ground late in the vain hope of not seeing a semi naked Club Secretary in the car park – it doesn’t seem that bad when it’s written like that…

In a strange twist of football fate, it was Richard who saw me first. We chatted, made plans and I battered him with lots of questions.

The answer to one of the questions I asked was “A Peacock”. Apparently that bird on the clubs badge is a Peacock. No, I can’t see it either. It’s from the Croft’s family crest. Now there’s a story.

“As if by magic, the shopkeeper appeared…” Steve stood there smiling like he knew something that I didn’t and he did too. He handed me a brown A4 envelope with “NOGGIN” written on it with a smiley face in the middle of the “O” and I laughed. “I’m in trouble now ain’t I?” I said to Richard as I opened the envelope. I could not believe my eyes. I laughed even more. It was a ticket. An A4 sized ticket. If Carlsberg made football tickets…

The match officials arrived. I realised I was now running late. Richard and Steve went off to do their obligations for the day and I went off to take photos.

The pitch looked in great condition.

Back in the bar the beer was flowing, stories were being told, introductions made, promises made that what was said to me would not appear in the blog, defences dropped, truths wisped and the daftest story of the day had to be the officials who insisted that Stanway change their shirts because of a colour clash. Home team play in black and red striped shirts. Away team play in white shirts. I’m lead to believe that there is a flash of red on the shoulder of the away team shirt so they were forced to play in gold shirts instead… *SIGH*

Steve Barker, seeing double and guarding his Jack Wilshire shirt

Stanway Rovers rolled in on the back of a winning run of 4 out of 6 for the month of November WDWWWD and had already beaten Hertford Town and Sun Sports in the FA Vase both of whom are above St Margaretsbury in the league (6^th and 1^st respectively). While St Margaretsbury had enjoyed a winning run of 6 out of 7 for the month of November WDWWWWW.

In a strange twist of football fate, so far, the teams I’d followed had endured a run sequence of, win, lose, win, lose and win. Just what would today give us?

The photos and handshakes done the game was ready to start. Stanway kicked off and they game went straight into kick it and rush.

It wasn’t really long ball stuff but it was nowhere near pass it and move either. Just after 10 minutes the game started to settle down, but there still wasn’t much football being played. The now usual positives that I’m getting used to. No play acting. No rolling around. No cheating.

I’m not sure where St Margaretsbury were, but they certainly weren’t here. What a waste. It was easily the biggest crowd I’ve seen there and this is what they are exposed to. All of that hard work from Richard and Steve and for what? It’s not just Richard and Steve either, there are far too many members of staff for me to mention that all “work” for free, after doing their normal every day jobs and this is how the team repay them and all of their efforts. If I’d have been the manager I’d have slapped them silly at half time. Don’t misread what I’m writing. If you lose you lose. If you’re beaten by a better team, you’re beaten by a better team. But the other team need a team to play against. I think most of the St Margaretsbury team were out Xmas shopping with their better half’s. Maybe next time their better half’s should be given a game.

What’s it like to see a crowd…

I’d had enough, time for Bovril, with St Margaretsbury not there then why should I bother to stay? Stanway weren’t really making them pay for their lack luster performance either, which depending on your point of view, or which team you follow, was either good or bad. There were a few chances but nothing to really write home about.

Then it happened, St Margaretsbury had a clear chance. One minute later they had a second chance. So, Stanway went up the other end and scored. A nothing ball was lumped into the box, there was a bit of a scramble, the ball landed at the feet of Clowsley who poked it in. It wasn’t pretty but it was a goal.

The Sun started to set. The shadows stretched across the pitch. The temperature started to drop. The game continued to plod towards half time. Gary walked passed, “Did you get your ticket?” He said as he rushed off to do his duties while laughing…

The game continued in the same vain up to half time and I can’t really speak for everyone else there but I don’t think that I was the only one wanting the Ref to blow early and put us out of our misery.

Thanks Ref. Off to the bar we all disappeared. FA Cup Rd2 Preston 1 Shrewsbury 0 GOOD! Shrewsbury dumped Walsall out the Cup in Rd1.

As we stood at the bar one of the Stanway fans said, “If we get a second goal I’m coming back in here…” Now there is someone that can speak for everyone.

Unfortunately the second half arrived. Fortunately so did St Margaretsbury. This was more like it. Suddenly we had a game on our hands. The arrival of St Margaretsbury sparked a response from Stanway who upped their game too. This was very quickly becoming a cracking game. Dare I say a good old fashioned cup tie?

Then it started. I’ve been a little overly positive about my observations of non-league football and the complete lack of cheating. It had to end somewhere didn’t it, so end today it did. The big fella up front for Stanway kept on falling over. Why? What was he hopping to gain? It was blatantly obvious that he’s spent most of London 2012 watching Tom Daley. There is a bloody big difference with jumping out the way of the incoming tackle so you don’t get hurt and diving. At one point he was flat out on the floor in the box. Dead. The Co-op Funeral Services were on the way to pick up the body while someone was on the phone to his next of kin to inform them of his untimely death.

IT’S A MIRACLE!! He’s alive. After lying stationary for almost a whole minute he was up and running around like an excited child on Christmas morning. What a tit. Doesn’t he realise that the resurrection was at Easter and not Christmas? He can’t even cheat properly.

Personally I was starting to believe that it wasn’t going to be St Margaretsbury’s day.

GOAL! I was right. Stanway delivered a high deep cross to the far post. In the scramble to get a head on the ball the keeper put a fist to it, the ball fell to the feet of Maher who neatly skipped into the box and placed a simple but effective shot past the keepers left. GAME OVER!

What the hell is that? From over the Eastern horizon came a bright orange glow. Slowly and surly, like a massive Satsuma, the Moon made an appearance in the night sky. While I was busy taking photos of it a girl behind me said, “Dad, look at The Sun…” I was so busy laughing I fell down the step.

One bright orange Moon

Because I was so busy taking photos of the Moon I missed what happened next, as did most people. An off the ball incident left the St Margaretsbury keeper sitting on his back side in the back of the net. Stanway were now down to ten men.

The game then slowly and surely slipped into what we’ve all become familiar with in the Premiership. Thankfully it didn’t completely get in the way of a good game of footy. By now the game was becoming end to end with a really good pace to the action. Both teams deserve credit. Both teams went looking for the goal. Both keepers kept the score at 0-2. I can’t say it was poor finishing because it wasn’t, it was really good goal keeping.

As the temperature on the pitch rose the air temperature fell like their centre forward…

To complicate St Margaretsbury’s problems they managed to get a player sent off through a combination of poor tackling and diving. Without question it was a stupid tackle to make. Without question the other player dived out of the way. Without question he was on the floor around 1.5 maybe 2 seconds before he remembered to pretend to be hurt. Suddenly he was rolling around like a wet fish in a landing net. The Ref ran over before he started to get chased by both set of players demanding that there side of the incident was the correct one.

Ten against ten. The game continued to crumble. The final whistle seemed too far away. I just wanted it to end. As I stood there in the cold I began to wonder where I would be going in the next round.

Thankfully the Ref put us out of our misery and everyone dived into the bar, ironically enough…

Preston 1 Shrewsbury 0 Ha! Ha! Ha!

As I stood at the bar taking notes, thinking about what I’d just seen, St Margaretsbury’s piss pour performance, all that hard work that had gone to waste, the diving and cheating. I realised that I was now playing on a sticky wicket. Do I tell the truth about what I’d witnessed? Do I dilute my point of view?

The Three Wise Men, Steve Barker, Gary Stock and Richard Palette

I spoke to a member of the Stanway staff. I offer him my problem. I spoke to Richard and Gary up in the board room and I offered them the same problem. To their credit, all three of them said, I must tell the truth. Have I diluted it? Not really. I haven’t banged on about it as much as I could have either. I’m not here to crucify anyone. I’m sure that there will be a few players that eventually have a sleepless night over their actions and performance.

All dreams of holding the cup are shattered

As I said I went up to the board room to grab hold of Richard to confirm the goal scorers, times and sending’s off. As we were chatting the match officials turned up for tea and cake.

Gary was still running around doing the corporate hospitality thing. Stanway’s staff were all down stairs taking full advantage of the food and the bar and that’s how it should be. For all of the faults that today’s game offered us all, once it was over it was over, I spy with my little eye one huge hippy love in… Long may it continue.

The Ref shows The Chairman how to wave a flag

As I sat in the board room listening to the match officials talking with Richard and Gary, I couldn’t help butting in and asking a few questions. It was brilliant stuff. Suddenly I found myself in a position to ask the Ref and his two Linesmen about the events of the game and find out why they made the calls that they had. I was fascinated by it all. To actually sit and listen to what they were thinking at the time of the said events was such a privilege. I could have sat there all night and listened to them. As stupid as this is going to read there is a TV shown in there somewhere. It was just like CSI Football. The forensic break down of the games incidents.