By Rail to The Railwaymen: Crewe Away

I’m on my way back from my evening German class (trying to learn the language once again!) and, suddenly remembering that West Brom (Premier league) are playing at League One Peterborough in an F.A. Cup replay this evening, turn on the radio to find the game has gone into extra time.

Back home, I grab a lager, swing upstairs and turn on the TV that is conveniently part of the computer. Play is just beginning …

… and I am not sure which team I want to lose (never mind win). WBA are just down the road and, while it’s always good to have a “giant killing” I don’t really (illogically) want Peterborough to steal any League One glory. So I just settle for watching the game; and it really isn’t much of a spectacle. But tense enough that I need something to snack on, so I drag out the very last (twenty or so) walnuts we bought to eat over Christmas and, well, finish ‘em off. On the TV the commentator is gibbering; I hear

“ … and now anything could happen …”

I think what? Like an alien chest burster could emerge from the chest of the referee?

Donald Trump could get a decent haircut, rather than the oh-so-obvious, ridiculous comb-over he now adopts?

Elvis will, finally reveal his whereabouts and announce that he has been busy finding a cure for all that ails mankind?

Amazing how walnuts can stir the imagination eh? In real life meanwhile eventually, and ingloriously, Albion sneak by on penalties: just about!

I have booked a train ticket from Rugeley to Crewe (hoping I have got the time (and station) correct). This Saturday’s trip is planned to be a “beer-and- train” trip to relegation-fight regulars Crewe Alexandra. Three points needed to bring back some confidence and momentum. It is the first of three big games (aren’t they all when you’re second and going hell-for-leather for automatic promotion?): Crewe away, On-a-charge- Wigan at home, then top-of-the-table (as at time of writing) Burton Albion away (ticket also secured).

The sheep getting sorted from the chaff. Well something like that anyway.

And, sure enough, arrangements made and modified there are four of us tipping out of Saddlers Widow’s blue car at around ten of the ay em on a bright Saturday morning. Rugeley Trent Valley Station; pretty bleak but several impressively tilting expresses thunder and whistle through. The automatic ticket machine is not working so, clutching my piece of paper I chat to a dad and his young son: they are en route to Everton v Albion. There’s a lad in a Wolves top and someone else in a Birmingham city scarf. (later on the journey a rowdy crew, possibly Stoke fans) bring unnecessarily crude language, poor fashion and volume into the carriage. An insight into both railways and traditional Saturday football fans of the more traditional type: travelling in hope, expectation or packs – but travelling. Not. Just. Sitting. At home. Watching on TV!

The train is delayed. My brother has failed to hear his alarm, but Chris is on board now. So we relax, there are Spanish and Indian beers and the train does its job. Not a ticket inspector in sight. Stoke, Kidsgrove, rolling over the Cheshire plains, puddled and flooded green fields, the canal (presumably the Trent and Mersey?)

We talk of families, maps, books, New York and why don’t we do this train thing more often.

Then we are waiting somewhere outside Crewe station, before gently rolling in. No need to rustle about looking for parking, just amble off the carriage, along the long, covered platform and out. To try and locate the much researched pub. What was it called? The Imperial Hotel (on Eddlestone Road) has been search engine to death by the technologically ept among us: and the eleven minute walk, zigging and zagging round perpendicular corners we spy it. Perfect landing place: plenty of space at 11.55, wall to wall TVs, a small stage for regular music events and warm sunshine filtering in the clean windows.

We get beers in (Pedigree for me: echoes of Burton?) and start the drinking. Man Utd go goal behind (to Sunderland) over my shoulder but the screen I’m watching has QPR v Fulham on it.

 

Just after I have ordered minimalist but it-is-what-it-says-it-is food Andy tips up: he’s spending a romantic weekend in Chester (eleven locomotive minutes away) and we settle to eat (burger and chips/pizza) and the good atmosphere sinking in.

The tiny ground is packed when we get there; a mass of saddlers fans in the miniscule, poor view low-roofed “away” end.

And we kick off a storm! In the first ten minutes we could have been three nil up – if our shooting had been better and luck on our side. Bradshaw is back in and doing the front-man job, linking well with Sawyers. Etheridge back in goals (though Roberts had a steady debut last week).

The first goal is a little crazy and due to Sawyers’ reputation: the defender marking him sticking out a hand to knock the ball away (in the way a tyrannosaurus might) and we have a penalty. Tom Bradshaw, cool as you like, puts it away and we expect a goal rush.

 

Expect? But don’t get one: Crewe managing to keep us at bay until half time, when it is decided we should all move to the end “where the goals will be” and take up new positions: only to lose them to people returning from pie-shopping and the toilets.

Second half has us sitting by a family who are clearly passionate but know so little about playing football (too much time on computer football games?) or simple psychology.

Every shout is in the “You-are-brilliant” mode or the extreme opposite (and every shout is for a Walsall player. Do these people think that Andy Taylor goes out, for example, not to play well?

I am pleased to see Lalkovic back in the side, but his runs and jinks have little real impact.Matt Preston is at centre back for stalwart James O’Connor –and he plays well: he looks solid and is dependable if a little lacking in pace.

Crewe equalise – the other end of course – and the game sparkles to life in the last ten minutes or so when we press just a little bit harder, but fail to make it count.

 

The train on the way back is less packed than I imagined and we change at Stafford. Our lift is ready and waiting at the station … and Gillingham have overtaken us (though we have a game in hand). Burton still surprising people by winning, winning, winning … oh but they ain’t played us yet; right?

The F Word !

In the very popular 1985 film “back to the Future part II starring Michael J Fox, central character “Marty McFly travels to October 21, 2015, to save his children, yet to be born.

Well that’s today, as it happens – a day when Walsall are playing at Barnsley and my good friend has offered to drive us there and back.

On the way into work even staid BBC Radio Four is on the bandwagon and questions are being asked about how many predictions (or are they projections or extrapolations ?)the film got right. It was just a film, I’m thinking (not as good as the first … and not having ZZ Top in the soundtrack like the third version had … a film. The date, probably chosen at random … being securely in the future. (Didn’t I read that George Orwell chose 1984 as his BIG Brother year in 1948 by just reversing the last two digits?)

Of course the classic of this genre just has to be (and for me either the Rod Taylor or the Guy Pearce version by the way) has to be The Time Machine (H.G. Wells superb evocation of evolution). That scene where the Time Traveller is sitting in the machine and the mannequin in the shop window opposite changes fashion after fashion … and the “clouds of war” …)

And, then after meeting a very energetic Bea we are ensconced in the car and heading towards the A38. Some time travel gadget trip computer engine analysis display shows an oil pressure warning light and we slide gently into the garage at Alrewas to top up. Reminds me of my own primitive ignoring of my own dashboard warning light on the way back from Blackpool.

On high elevated sections of the frustratingly 9but sensibly) speed managed M1 we talk about tactics and formations. Jay, in the back of the car is determined that we need a new strategy: “it’s so obvious!” he maintains intensely … not saying he’s wrong of course. But how likely will Dean Smith be to change what has already worked so well so far?

The news just in is that we have taken a young Manchester City midfielder-come-central defender (or is it the other ay around?) on a month’s loan. George Evans? Never heard of him, but apparently he’s been to League One clubs before, so should know the way it works.

Then, having already consumed half a litre of oil, that dashboard display comes up again and we swoop into a motorway service station; eventually deciding that now it has too much oil in there.

Oakwell is visible from the motorway and we wind towards it, following a local fan (well spotted driver!) instead of the sat nav. Then curl through packed-with-cars streets trying to find a place to park. We settle on paying out four pounds and use the official one, on a slope above the well-lit ground. It is an impressive stadium, the stands set well away from the playing surface and a twenty three thousand seater capacity, but I can’t help but notice the old, 1970s section, cunningly disguised and evocative of those days: corrugated something-or other walls and roofing. The grass is bright green, quite lurid and we take a seat somewhere towards the front – plenty of space in the away end, although there are apparently two hundred and fifteen hardy Walsall supporters (including Paul Leadbetter on his two thousandth match apparently – well done sir!).

 … and whaddaya know, this new guy (George Evans ) is actually starting. The injuries (Neil Etheridge, Sam Mantom, Andy Taylor and James O’Connor) have bitten and he’s on the bus and on the pitch. He starts off by charging everywhere, seeking to impress? Or just seeking a role we cannot be sure. But he’s certainly busy!

And we seem to be playing a 4-1-4-1 formation. Rico Henry and Demetriou playing their usual energy-charged wing running and Bradshaw alone up front. And Barnsley let us play.

Half time – nil nil. We look up at the moon, with cloud scudding across in front of it and think about how this area was once the massive industrial heritage of this part of the world: Barnsley: coal mining (and the production I seem to think of coke (the original one not the fizzy stuff that tastes wonderful while it rots your teeth!). Sheffield, we have transected on the motorway which once had British Steel foundries and factories lining the new road and gave the mark of quality to the product: “Sheffield Stainless Steel”/ “made in Sheffield” traded around the globe. The very finest.

Cully, good at this kind of thing invents a foundry: the Beelzebub Furnace and we contrast it with the news-of-the-day: that Capparo, a West Midlands headquartered steel producer is likely to go out of business, following those in Redcar (where the coke ovens have finally been allowed to go out; a desperate measure that means it will be impossible to continue production in the future. Things change, inevitably and multi-national globalisation has its up side, just difficult to see if your job has just gone to the wall. Is there anything politicians can actually do about it all? Well, Chinese government representatives are staying here at the moment, being courted by government and corporations while, on the other hand being blamed for “dumping” (an emotive word if ever there was one their lower priced steel on the world markets. Dumping? Marketing successfully by any other name, surely? In China human rights are negligible – if they exist at all – the country going through it’s own industrial revolution – with all the energy and downsides we experienced back in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Change is only change after all.

 Second half, on comes Milan Lalkovic. Bradshaw is dropping deeper, and Evans a little more advanced and we begin to dominate. Credit to the Barnsley fans: they applaud their team enthusiastically but there’s little real damage being done by their long, hopeful punts up the field.

Indeed it is Sawyers, with great vision and the ability to drop a ball in that finds Evans who, well marked (it seemed) twists and gets a shot away that beats the goalkeeper … and his celebration is just the right side of getting booked. He enjoyed the gaol; so did we!

The formation doesn’t change – to our relief – and Milan Lalkovic, running brilliantly into a space, stealing the ball from the slow defender nips it, satisfyingly into the net. Another celebration: Lalkovic was at Barnsley and neglected there, so he is kind of showing them what they didn’t see.

A happier, quieter journey back, the F word rarely mentioned, the “engine damage may occur” oil pressure message consigned to constantly ignored status and three points in the Saddler’s bags. Second in the League and an away trip to Colchester on Saturday.

Things will change – Formations and Futures – it is inevitable. Just hopefully: not too soon.

Close Shaves and World War III ? Coventry Home.

Home

23^rd August.

Getting just a little bit of stick at home for the – er – not quite beard that I am not quite growing. Its not a fashion thing, indeed not a big deal; just that when I don’t shave facial hair appears. But, casting for a suitable time to take a shave, some days ago I promised “after the Coventry game”. Because, seriously the Coventry game seemed like such a long way into the future.

Talking to a guy in the butcher’s car park. He went to his first ever Walsall game in 1948. He reels off a string of names that was the line-up. He does the same for a Liverpool team that played against Walsall in “one of the best games I’ve ever seen”. His wife, appearing from the butchers, is a west Brom fan and talks, with a smile about “when we beat Chelsea six-nil”.

They sometimes go, together to Hednesford Town football games – and it was very interesting to talk with him.

There is increased media speculation about the transfer market. Tom Bradshaw is – and properly so – a magnet for scouts. The big clubs have a week-and-a-bit to make their moves. Scuttlebutt on the Rochdale terraces was about how much: ) we’d miss him and b)how much he’d be sold for. There’s pride backed by realism to deal with if you’re a Saddlers fan.

Dean Smith is apparently also talking about making “two more signings”. We are a small club with a small squad. But to make anything like a real bid for any kind of sustained glory I reckon he is right. Injuries will bite at some point.

I have a friend who is a Coventry fan, but replied to an invitation to the game by saying that he “was taking his family to the zoo”. There’s a difference?

A warm drive to the game. Parked up and, not knowing the new season’s systems I enter via the turnstiles. Access to the Savoy Lounge ( needing a season pass) is changed: the restaurant is now in the centre of the room and we are permitted some space – and it might get crowded! – at the far end. So I have to burn the routes into my brain and delete the old by-habit ones … including which toilets to use.

Coventry have bought a goodly number of fans; the atmosphere is superb: noisy, bright, animated. Coventry are doing well (early season league leaders) and have high expectations. Stadium (this is my first home match) looks impressive. Good playing surface.

 

By these new routes it seems a long way to my seat, but sure I will get used to it.

There is a buzz from the beginning; this is one of the many local derbies throen at us this season. Notably Jason Demetriou (nominally full back) is forward and at home taking players on, little one-two passes and sharp. Etheridge, so mobile and looking more confident, has a few scrambles. Bradshaw is marked by a physically large centre half Reda Johnson: interesting. But we make ground and keep it, looking very positive and on the front foot. Coventry have their own goal machine, Adam Armstrong, teenager on loan from Newcastle, but their attacks fizzle out in poor shots.

Then there is a pantomime moment. On top of the professional (what a misnomer: it is nowhere near professional to fall over, feign injury and seek advantage – quite the opposite in fact!) part of their game one of the Coventry players (James Maddison) goes down – and stays down. Physio comes on – he’s there for an unusually long time before deciding Maddison can walk. Maddison then takes an equally long time to limp to the side line (carry the bloke for God’s sake, let’s get on with the game). Immediately, however the physio signals that he is OK to re-join the game, the ref waves him on,. He walks on to the pitch, looks at the bench, shakes his head and – sits down! He could have found that out while he was “off the field of play”!

Substitution! Six minutes gone!

The football being played is open, skilful and a wonderful advert for both teams – and, indeed football at this level. While the referee misses some things and is lenient with others the players are committed and seem to be enjoying the match themselves. We string about twenty passes together; the move ends with a promising shot; wide.

We break the deadlock just before half time. Bradshaw is marked pretty much out of the game, dropping back deeper to find the ball. He scoops a ball to the busy Sam Mantom who drops a wonderful pass in to Forde’s path. Cool finish: one nil!

Half time. We organise getting tickets for the Brighton game (Capital One Cup at home on Tuesday night) and wander out for what we think will be a torrid second half.

It is, but Walsall are keeping this aggressive attitude. Rather than sitting back on the one gaol (so expensive last season) we rally after the inevitable early Sky Blues pressure and Bradshaw (who else?) is there to snap up a rebound from Lalkovic’s shot and toe – poke the ball in for the second. Possession and quality then from saddlers. Kieron Morris (good start to the season from him) comes on for Forde and Cook comes on for Lalkovic. A surprise because It seems to be sawyers whose game is least effective at this point. He is too easily put off the ball of doesn’t get to the passes. But, hey I am not the manager – and we are winning two nil! What do I know?

In the final twenty minutes or so Coventry go for broke. Big centre half Johnson goes up front, they throw everything they have at us – and we endure, getting some counter attacks going to balance the game. We are not giving up, they can’t let us get another goal. They have a near-perfect free kick come back of our post. We relax: Etheridge had it covered after all. Didn’t he ? (No he bl**dy well didn’t!).

And Murphy, their clever nuisance value winger hits a screamer which Etheridge very definitely doesn’t have covered. Consolation. But on the drive on the way home, Brighton tickets in back pocket, I hear that we are (joint*) League One leaders – equal on points with Gillingham.

Teenager Joel Richards, long time Walsall supporter and local referee- one of a family of three who, along with other tourists was murdered in a terrorist attack on a beach in Tunisia – has had his efforts recognised by Birmingham County referees. He is awarded Referee of The Year. He should have been alive to collect it!

So it is now after the Coventry game: should I shave the “beard?

*hmmm; just wondering: shall I delete the “joint” before I publish?

Lapsed – and Lapsing

21st July.

Great Wyrley (home)

While we have been on holiday and entertaining my football club has been playing some behind-closed games; beating a Nike squad (never actually heard of them, sorry) at St George’s Park, losing to Wolves and, this very evening losing 1 – 0 at Telford. I have seen none of the games and, so probably do not deserve a comment. However we are not distinguishing ourselves in these games so I hope the manager is learning something about the squad, tactics, and strategies: the reason for friendly games could be said to get match practice and gauge next steps.

And I do feel bad that I have not been – and probably will not be able to – get to these friendly games. They can be interesting pointers and – at the very least give a chance for the new names to get burned into the brain (though, honestly the new names are few and far between at the moment).

Speaking of which, while we were in Devon Walsall signed up Milan Lalkovic. He was previously with us, on loan from Chelsea and I like his attitude and skills. I am glad that he is back with us and look forward to seeing him in action.

This, alongside contradictory messages in the press and on the official web-site:

“We are going to be more attacking, more attack-minded” and

“There is nothing wrong with the way we played last season, but we need to score more goals”

These do not compute, but put alongside the lack of a – sorry Milan – recognised out-and-out striker at this point may be the best we can manage. O.K. Jordan Cook was out of action at the beginning of last season with a serious injury during a friendly and Tom – “Super-Tom” Bradshaw came out of the shadows and excelled himself. But Dean Smith’s somewhat complacent attitude that we can do business – and better business – later in the transfer window – is almost a statement of intent.

Will Grigg, former striker who came good at Walsall has been transferred to Wigan Athletic (who also snapped up last season’s brilliant goalkeeper Richard O’Donnell from us) and there will be some money heading our way, but apparently not quickly and maybe only in small amounts.

I am keen to see Walsall do well this year, building on what was, looking back a frustrating season with some highpoints and drama. I wish the whole squad well – of course I do.

And the first of the home friendlies – against Aston Villa is on Saturday.

Packwood House and Rotherham (Away)

15^th March

Had bangers an’ mash (sausage and mashed potato) for dinner yesterday. Bit slovenly, eating them of a tray on my lap, while watching TV (the mysterious disappearance and no-traces found of a Malaysian Airlines passenger plane).

Bangers ‘n’ mash needs pepper right?

So fetched the pepper mill off the dining table and left it on top of a pack of playing cards by my left elbow. Coming downstairs at around 6.30 to get a cup of tea I realised the portentous error. Rotherham (a.k.a the Millers (pepper mill get it) and the pack of playing cards is one from a sponsored match (thanks I.C.A.D.) at Bescot. An omen ?

Still not travelling to the game today so decided to go to National Trust’s Packwood House, about forty minutes pleasant drive away. Last time we headed to Packwood it was closed and we went, instead to nearby Baddesley Clinton (very charming with some humorous scarecrows).

The banks of the roads are alive with brilliant yellow daffodils. Hedges neatly trimmed and in one case well laid, looking pristine in the powerful, warm spring sunlight. A bit windy too.

Arrived, parked, membership (oh yes indeed!) cards scanned and a brief walk around the ornamental gardens; verdict being they will probably look good in summer. Outside introduction to the house given by a volunteer wit h a Scots accent. Very informative, great history. In a way quintessentially English. A farm leased after the Reformation, Bought and improved, passed through the ever-expanding family. Heirless neglect. Bought by a rich industrialist for his fifteen year old son, Graham Baron Ash, who re-invented it (and massively added to it) as a “Tudor manor”. The cow barn converted into a great hall and a “Tudor long gallery” built between it and the house proper in faithful-to-the–period style, with authentic furniture “saved/rescued/salvaged” from other properties during the Depression.

            

The kitchen walled garden brought back memories for me of Little Wyrley Halls’ walled garden, though was nowhere near as grand. The one at Little Wyrley hall has been turned over to grass – and, last thing I knew was a paddock for a pony. A well-spent morning, not thinking about the game: away at Rotherham, who are well in the promotion/play off place hunt.

Set out on the return journey with BBC Radio WM on in the car. Commentary of the Swansea v West Bromwich Albion game on. But every now and then the “goal horn” going off when scores came in from other games. Nineteen minutes (or so) Rotherham nil, Walsall 1 came in. Lalkovic scoring his “sixth goal of the season” and the – somehow desperate statistic that “in the last fourteen games Walsall have never lost a game they have been winning”. Can you believe the research that goes in to these things? I have been impressed by Milan Lalkovic since the first game of the season: he’s energetic, skilful and hard to knock off the ball. His Chelsea contract runs out at the end of the season, and, good as he is, I don’t imagine Chelsea will keep him. he has made loyal noises about coming to Walsall, but my guess is he will go to a Championship team – and our chances of that are running out.

Back home, unpacked the car. Radio on upstairs. I’m checking Facebook, getting the bulletins. With seventeen minutes to go, our defender, Ben Purkiss gets sent off … and some seconds before the final whistle, Rotherham equalise.

Down at mom’s half an hour later, the TV news is bringing the latest latest about the Malaysian airliner MH370 and the Russian delegate vetoed the U.N resolution that would have had tomorrow’s referendum in Crimea registered as unlawful.

Watched, as promised in an earlier post, some of the winter Olympics ice sledge hockey: the final between the U.S.A. and Russia. The two main protagonists in the Crimea/Ukraine scenario. Actually, while it takes a lot of skill (naturally), energy and guts to compete it wasn’t actually as brutal as the trailer seemed to suggest. Less so than the standard ice hockey where there’s further to fall and body slams into the wall are common and bruising. The U.S. triumphed … and in Sochi, Russia too.

Meanwhile, closer to home the Express and Star meanwhile is bewailing the fact that Walsall could do with bigger crowds. No joking? But it’s often the Express and Star that, in spreading rumours and refusing to give us fair publicity, banjaxes our potential. To whit the over-egging of the “racist” stuff during the Wolves game, giving former Wolves goalie Matt Murray a platform to report his feelings as fact, and making it seem as if Bescot is a dangerous place to go.

Now I realise that the E and S is printed in Wolverhampton, but we could ask for a little more positive coverage couldn’t we?

Also coming to bear, of course is the expense. This is an expensive month to be a Saddler’s fan, with the Football League adding the Coventry away game to our fixture list.

A small point too: why oh why can only season ticket holders go into the bar in the main stand? The story given that it is to stop those eating in the restaurant is too, too feeble. The corporate bunches – come and gone – are separated and have their own dedicated bar.