Carried Away? (Crewe Away)

A wonderfully stretched out couple of days in Suffolk, with a stop off on the way: Aldeburgh, Dunwich Heath, Minsmere, an evening river cruise and meal on board the Lady Florence (out of Orford Quay) and Framlingham Castle. Beautifully warm weather, even on the North Sea coast.

Long delays and an ad-libbed sat-nav free detour on the way back, avoiding rush hour traffic on the M6 (phew, had been dreading that!)

A good night’s sleep and a stroll to the butchers, then home and en route to Crewe in a BMW. Quiet, scenic roads through some fine agricultural landscapes. Looking for a pub to have lunch. The state-of-the-art sat-nav just went round in boggling circles: yes there was  a menu listing for “pubs”, but press it and – er, what – no pubs! No matter how many times we tried

Back to the Mark One Eyeball and, at just the right place was the Cheshire Cheese. Trainee barmaid challenged by the pouring of draught Spanish lager, but managed to get it right (“wrist action and angle my dear”). A brief exchange of phone and text messages with the Crewe supporting author of One Hundred and One Grounds for Divorce. He is also going to the game.

Sure enough the ground was less than a country mile beyond, past the railway bridge and piles of soil that suggest new building development coming soon. Parked easily enough on the car park adjacent to the ground; one of the few still surrounded closely by housing and a “Horticultural Engineer’s” shop, with windows of lawn cutting equipment. It feels traditional but also old-fashioned and cramped because the houses have only small – or no – front gardens. There is a tall, imposing modern stand (steeply tiered as I recall from a previous visit) … and the rather quaint, cramped away end. Where we will be – of course!

There is a friendly message at the side of the ticket office window thanking Walsall fans “for travelling the 48 miles to see the game …” and wishing us a safe journey home afterwards. The young men in front of us try a bit of banter and to get away with paying student rates (discounted)

“Come on,” he wheedles, “I’ m at university … doin’ a masters,”

His mates laugh, the ticket seller asks, with a smile what he is studying. He is quick with a reply:

“Economics,” but he knows he’s failed and pays the full price (£22) with a big grin.

It is typical of confident fans, after a few beers and enjoying the sunshine. And of course we all have high hopes after Tuesday’s magical performance.

Crewe are in a tight spot: with Yeovil already definitely relegated Crewe need wins and goals.

Richard O’Donnell has been key in our games this season – after a few shaky games at the beginning of the season, playing behind a defence that has kept clean sheets despite heavy pressure and lack of goals at the other end. He hasn’t signed a new contract yet – and the “choir” encourage him to stay. He avoids looking in our direction I notice. In the end, all talk of loyalty is transitory; these players are living short term lives, the money that they can make at football clubs will have, inevitably a significant impact on their lives – and loyalty is a two way thing; there are  no guarantees from the clubs to players. I hope that we can offer him enough (clean sheet bonuses, appearance fees … whatever) as he has become a mainstay of our team. But he will be being advised by his “agent” and I wish him luck.

Until Tuesday evening we were overly dependent on our defence to get us safely through games while at the other end, the important and exciting end of the field simply not scoring. We are close to the end of the season now and, hopefully Dean Smith – or whoever is managing the team will be able to use money from our Wembley adventures to boost the strike force. Smith has aid in the papers that budget is set by the amount of “early bird” season tickets sold. Really? What about that money from the JPT run?

Tuesday night, I am hoping as we clamber into seats beneath the corrugated roof, was a turning point. The way that we played seemed more free, more open and, yes more attack-minded. Please let it continue …

We are wearing our “Wembley colours”, not necessarily a good omen. The game has barely started and Crewe are manic, fast and pushing up, crowding the Walsall players. In so doing one of their team slides through Rom Sawyers, but is injured in the process: a long hold up. Crewe keep up the pressure, three strikers giving chase to everything that’s lumped up the field. In one attack they get a break (no offside flag) and score: Haber with a powerful header. We manage to limp through to half time with our players looking short of ideas under such harassment. Tom Bradshaw is having to drop further back to get the ball and there are a lot of poor passes which get picked up by the energetic Crewe team. In their fight to avoid relegation they are determined and running the ball down, which is the right way to set about it.

Generally poor support from the home fans, but we are stuck right next to the noisy elements of Saddlers folk. It is humorous and loud – if not tuneful, with every player getting at least one name check.

Second half Crewe continue to apply pressure, energy levels still high. But we show some mettle and make a number of raids, pressing further up field. Hiwula gets the range, but it is Bradshaw, working his heart out as, always, that gets the break.  A loose ball ends up at Bradshaw’s feet. After the ball is in the net we look at each other: how did he manage that?

We step up at this point, so close to the end and dominate. But too late to win the game and get the full three points  that would see us safe for another season.

A one all draw; better for us than for Crewe, but neither of us is mathematically safe – yet.

The general election, unsurprisingly is the  main talk of news and media at the moment. Trouble is none of the parties is looking like an outright winner. Each of them concentrating on destroying the latest policies or speeches from their opponents and putting forward their own which lack any details of where the money to pay for these schemes will come from. Great idea to spend more money on the National health Service for example, but where will it come from. Maybe we have actually got to the stage where a coalition government is the best option for democracy. With the rise in status of both the Plaid Cymru and the Scottish Nationalist Party bound to change the shades of political decisions in the near and further future maybe we should have issues decided on an issue by issue basis. Maybe then Members of Parliament would consider the needs of their own constituencies rather than the party line.

This weekend – on a sadder note – a remembrance service ahs been held to commemorate all who lost their lives – and the families affected – in the Germanwings plane crash.

The Shirt and The Iron (Scunthorpe Away)

Last Wednesday of the month: poetry group at Great Wyrley Library. Last month we chose “sport” as the topic for this meeting. Do you know how difficult it is to find a reasonable poem about sport? (Seriously folks any suggestions welcome in the response box below. Would love to you’re your ideas.)

Someone else came up with “the Shirt” by Carole Ann Duffy  (current English poet laureate). I have heard this independent lady reading her poetry and, while it was being shared in the rather small confines of our library I could imagine bot her voice and face as she read it out. Bit of a cliché, but went to this Walsall supporter’s heart right away; the themes of high salary and some self-pitying celebrity player trying to make excuses for poor performances. The “anybody but me” syndrome” again.

We are playing Scunthorpe United today. Away. I’m going. Bright sunshine, high skies after some rainclouds earlier.

Cully’s driving. Navigating part-by-sat-nav part by experience. The sat nav (Tom-Tom I believe) sits in pride of place in the centre of the dashboard. The arrow stays still, the graphics move underneath it. “A bit like flying, instead of driving; don’t like it, “ he says.

Satisfyingly the machine gets it wrong from the off and I take out an unnecessary dog leg, smiling smugly (well inside anyway).

The journey is comfortable, enjoyable and full of conversation on initially  familiar roads and then motorways (with some almost inevitable summer roadworks limiting us to 50 m.p.h..

We see the high single legged floodlight pylons of Glanford Park while we are still on the approach. The ground is now at the back of an out-of-town shopping park with all the usual suspects including a McDonalds, a Ben and Jerry’s (playing music from the 1950s) and a franchise gastro-pub. It’s friendly in there. We order a meal and drinks, sit and continue the conversations. Then well fed, stroll to the ground.

Going through the turnstiles we are not given a ticket which I find interesting. It takes out the costs of printing and is eminently sensible in that respect of course … but is it legal?

 

The ground feels homely. It’s compact, built to the same spec all round and looks as if it was built to a plan that was stuck-to. No out-of-character additions. There’s a purpose built gallery in the roof of the left hand stand for cameras and media, there are flags flying from poles at the opposite end of the ground. That stand (we are behind a goal line) is standing-only. That’s also interesting, given the discussions going on to return parts of grounds to standing areas again (they were changed to all seater stadia by law following recommendations in the Taylor report after the Hillsborough disaster) .

We look dazed from the kick-off. The Iron playing fast, zippy football, passes accurate, either in front of the runner or into space which is soon taken up by an attacking player. We are not able to keep up, it seems. Our new look team. Without Kinsella who has been impressive, but fair enough, may need a break; without Grimes and Sawyers and James Chambers back into the middle of defence. Forde is on and Manset gets a debut. (seems he was playing the “long game” after his trial game against Leicester, going to some Turkish club and after a better deal (no blame attached there: football is a cruel kind of life and players need to make money as and when …). No deal was offered, so he came back to Walsall. James Chambers lasts all of ten minutes and Dean Holden comes on to replace him. It doesn’t get better. Scunthorpe (why are they nicknamed The Iron?) are like a tide washing towards our goal, wave after wave. Fortunately they don’t look like scoring. They too are on a winless run and may just be a little over anxious.

The half time entertainment is amusing: fans spin around to make themselves dizzy and are then to take a penalty against the home mascot (“Scunny Bunny”). Except they all fall over before they have finished spinning. The announcer on the pitch is enjoying himself anyway.

Of course I recognise some of the travelling fans now; we are some kind of pilgrims after all, trying to keep a kind of faith. Against all odds sometimes!

Second half is little different, except Scunthorpe are better motivated, more switched on. they haven’t won yet and sense things might be about to change. A first half dribble raid by Adelakum which ended in a scuffed shot is repeated. But this time the ball is in the net. A few moments later we concede a free kick. MacSheffrey’s long distance shot beats O’Donnell and they are two nil up.

Cue the charge. We establish some kind of order. Press forwards, more in hope at this stage but things begin to come together. Then, Tom Bradshaw, who must be difficult to play against, is through after willing running. It seems to be in stop-motion. I see him check the position of the keeper (Olejnic) and the ball dinks off his head and curls – towards – the net – over – the – line.

Goal! Well-deserved because the man has been chasing everything since kick off, big hearted and energetic. Good eye for the goal. Manset has shown touches of skill, but been a little off the pace. But he is big. He is strong and the defenders knew he was there. I would like to see him in the team again on Saturday (home against Colchester), just a little more bedded in.

It’s not enough. Baxendale making a big, bold challenge to keep the ball in provokes a bit of passion from Scunthorpe’s Bishop, who has niggled all game (but at least has some fire and passion about the game). The referee who has been poor all game, not stamping his authority, gives a goal kick when, in fact, the ball didn’t go out at all.

So, Scunthorpe’s winless run ends. Does ours continue or did it just get worse than that?