Seats and Elections; England Under 19s at Bescot.

So the League One season has finished, the promotion play offs are spinning themselves out destinies and luck dancing together as is usual with football.

But, hold hard, there are the under-19 Elite games going on, some at Walsall, some at Burton Albion. And, having a season ticket entitles me to free entry to the games at Walsall. I rang up just to make sure. No problem, says the guy on the other end of the ‘phone; turn up, flash your season ticket and pick up your entry ticket. No need to pre-book. Simple as that.

So a job not to be fitted in as I go on a Friday catch-up circuit, deliver money to Burntwood, get a printer cartridge, fill in a form drive off to deliver it, do the shopping.

Saturday morning. England playing Montenegro. Me and my brother going. I pick him up, plenty of time. We aren’t expecting many people, but just maybe the F.A will have swamped local schools with offers. It’s half term next week and maybe parents will be thinking “well it’s Saturday, no regular football, but …” and go along and support our youngsters. They are in with a chance of qualifying for the European championships this year in Hungary – and possibly the Under 20s World Cup next year (played in New Zealand I think).

Getting the ticket is not so easy. I am surprised. The Walsall box office team have match day down to a T – usually. All of the tickets in the main stand are “sold out” I am told: I should have picked up the ticket earlier, or pre-ordered one. Refer to paragraph one if necessary. I explain this but – of course it does no good. If it is sold out I cannot be given access to a seat that someone else has been given already. I am disappointed.

Still, we are behind the goals. Lower tier. But far enough back as to be sheltered from the capricious rain that is about at the moment. “Sit where you lie,” a steward tells us … Really ? I think, I’d like to sit over in that stand. But I keep quiet and smile to myself.

National anthems … and, although I’ve been to Montenegro I cannot remember the capital city. Smart phone tells us it is Podgorica and I recall the long taxi drive to Kolasin from Dubrovnik, the wonderful hospitality of the local people, some good walking  and the katun style of farming.

“God save our gracious …” I look across at the stand that is “sold out”. Mostly empty! I was disappointed, now I am somewhat angry. Corporate seating, I am thinking. Offers of seats to people who cannot be bothered to turn up. It is a real shame. I am composing a letter to the F.A when the whistle goes for kick off.

Lots of good approach play from the England team, sometimes over-elaborate passing and several times when a first time or early shot seemed to be on that are wasted. Both teams seem to be equal. Surprising. How many under 19s are there in Montenegro? Indeed, how many under 19s are there in Montenegro that are actual Montenegrans? Believe me it’s not the same question: the smart phone factoids said that only 44% of the population of the country are Montenegrans. … and how many under 19s in England?

Call it pride, but I am thinking we should be all over this team. We are not. The atmosphere is strange too. No chanting, though there are some supporters in the distance with what looks like a Montenegro flag. Good to see.

Then with about half an hour gone our number 7 runs away, sets himself up and has a shot – deflected into the net.

Half time and we look at the programme. It’s efficient. They’ve printed a single issue that covers all the games in the group (England, Montenegro, Scotland and the Ukraine). Filled with decent information, but sadly lacking a team list with squad numbers. Number 7 is Jordan Ibe (Liverpool) it turns out. There’s a short bit from Greg Dyke and an even shorter bit about his suggestions for increasing the number of native born English players in the Premier League. One of them is to set up a separate league that has B teams from Premiership teams in it. I’ve heard this before as a suggestion from – oh yes, the Premier league.  Not really happy with it, but I have chickened out of reading the full report. There’s not much more than a sentence about it in this programme either. I am sure there must be other ways to make sure English players get experience. Stan Collymore, one-time Villa and England striker suggested more regional centres of excellence. The loan system in place is there to give players a chance. Use it … and when non-English coaches are appointed it should be no surprise that they choose players they know of – from foreign countries.

There’s a guy leaving the match at half time – his son/grandson is feeling sick, he explains to the steward. We share a few words. He’s not impressed with the game: “It’s England,” he comments, “good at passing, but not many shots, typical!”

Shame he didn’t stay: the second half is action, action, action. A dodgy penalty won by the forward (I could almost read his thoughts … “I’ll get there at the same time as the ‘keeper, he’ll touch me, I’ll go down: penalty”). Duly scored. Not sure whether the Montenegro team had worn themselves out or it was greater experience of the England team, but resistance crumbled. A slowly moving ball was missed by the defender that could have cleared it and poked into his own net by another – when things go wrong eh?

But the goal of the game was from local lad Calum Robinson. Last minute. The ball cleared from a ruck in the penalty area, he caught it on the volley and it bowed into the net sweet as the song of a nightingale.

Six-nil!

By the time I had got home I had the complaint letter composed and it has been sent.

Meanwhile we have voted  in the European elections. The European Union which expands like nobody’s business and bringing confusion to elections and the electorate. Campaigns from the, let’s say established Conservative, Labour and Liberal Democrat parties have given little if any hint as to definite policies for the future and a plethora of additional parties springs up, promising this, that, the other and the kitchen sink and his wife. The United Kingdom Independence Party won the majority of MEP seats and a good many local council seats.

Port Vale: Away

Written on 6th April, 2014

I drove to Bescot to get the tickets for the Vale game. Burslem is not one of my favourite places in League One, though I have been there many times: it’s not so far to travel and there is usually fierce, not-quite-derby tension that brings excitement and skill out in both teams.

Driven in by my brother – cheers mate – and picking up Cully and Drew en route. Back lanes drive was a new way to get there for me, passing none of the landmarks and roundabouts I would normally be looking out for … and that’s not so easy from the back of an Alfa Romeo. Great parking spot and, hey there really was an oat-cakes shop (though it was closed) near the ground.

Brisk stroll; the ground looks so small and bodged together, with a patchwork ethos and stands that do not match. The roof of the stand we were in is apparently from Chester Football Club and so low it holds the sound in. The small-ish Walsall choir were buoyant, deafening (great support!) and, frankly discordant.

Grabbed a bite to eat at the café*: two coffees, two ciders a pie (only meat and potato) and a Mars bar. The cider was sticky and overly sweet.

That passion I was expecting (way back in the first paragraph)? No signs of it in the first half. Vale looking dangerous. Walsall looking a little lost and Ngoo in to replace suspended Westcarr didn’t quite work. The kid is talented, confident but doesn’t somehow fit in. Long legs like a young giraffe, very willing. Maybe just not enough match practice yet? Brandy looked tired and short of pace. James Chambers, unusually, was both out-paced and out-thought by the Vale winger, but we were hanging in there when the half time whistle went.

Playing towards us in the second half we seemed to have a better grip. Play was undoubtedly rougher – scuttlebutt going round the ground was that the teams above us (that we needed to lose to keep our remote play-off chances alive) were actually losing. Both teams here could capitalise on that – if they could win.

Some dubious refereeing decisions given both ways. Some harsh tackles: both ways, some diving: both sides … but when our centre half Paul Downing and a Vale player, Tom Pope, got tangled up in the penalty box – penalty.

Scored!

Cue substitutions: Brandy off for Lalkovic, Ngoo off for Bakayoko and Baxendale (largely ineffective) off for Hewitt.

Cue the traditional weekly last throw-down frantic paced everything and the kitchen sink and his wife and gundog melee as we hammer the Vale defence to get an equaliser and – in our eyes a shred of justice. Equaliser? Hell no; lets win the game!

I can never quite understand why we need to go one down before we start to play properly. Indeed there is a suggestion in the car as we drive back that we should hypnotise the team before the game, trancing ‘em into thinking we are one – nil down. Light the blue touch paper, stand back and watch the fireworks.

It’s history now, we don’t manage it. But there was a spirited first performance from Bakyoko, young but not afraid to get in with the big boys and their flying boots.

Elsewhere, the long-running saga of the Hillsborough Disaster continues. During my life there have been a number of football disasters, this being the worst of them. I cannot begin to imagine the torment the families of the ninety six people who died at what should have been a marvellous occasion have been put through. I salute their grit and determination to have genuine justice. It cannot have been easy.

Brighter news is that Birmingham City Ladies will be playing in the UEFA Women’s Champions League semi-final after beating Arsenal. Women’s football is booming at the moment, credit to everyone who has made it happen. Can we get a team at Walsall please?

And more international matches will be played at Bescot. My guess is that it is due to having the national training centre (St George’s Park) at Rangemore, because the games will be shared with Burton Albion. They are part of the UEFA European Under-19 Championship Elite Qualifying matches and will be played in May.

A horse from just down the road in Worcestershire won the Grand National while we were struggling to overcome the Vale and today Oxford hammered Cambridge in the Universities Boat Race.

*Oh yeah, the name of the café?

Would you Adam and Eve it ?