Some Journeys Are Sad Ones

So the visit to Estonia gets closer. Put into perspective by the F.A. Cup draw that has us at home to League Two Shrewsbury on the Saturday. (Shrewsbury who narrowly lost to Chelsea in the League Cup competition and are making a name for themselves under new manager Micky Mellon … and are also the club we got new crowd=pleaser Tom Bradshaw from during the close season). And there was me hoping for an away tie (against some easy-to-beat (the way we are playing at the moment it’s not easy to name such a team) lowly opposition with aground a long way from home. Which would mean I couldn’t possibly get there, we’d get through to the next round and I would be able to see an amazing Cup run (and not feel even vaguely guilty about the maybe-frivolous trip to Tallinn)

Because of the trip we had arranged our annual bonfire night a week earlier (also because other family members were available too on the Sunday) and I have spent some time this week preparing the site and the fuel (hedge cuttings and collected windfall logs) as well as paper and cardboard to get it lit.

Big world news is that Virgin Galactic’’s bid to get space tourism “off the ground” met a setback when the latest test flight ended in disaster with a test pilot 39-year-old Michael Alsbury, killed and the other pilot, Peter Siebold, 43, injured after ejecting clear. There are reports, almost inevitability of technical issues. But this is the sometimes-grim reality of pushing the frontiers of knowledge. It comes at a price. But, being inquisitive as a species we move forwards. No doubt this “space tourism” will initially benefit the rich. But beyond that, as today’s cutting edge becomes mainstream – who knows?

 

India, meanwhile is being criticized for its own space program when a large portion of the population cannot attain simple basic hygiene standards.

And more locally an explosion in a fireworks factory/outlet on the outskirts of Stafford left two (unidentified in early reports) people dead.

On Friday evening I had a ‘phone call from Andy. He would pick me up, we’d trek over to Notts County in some style, have a meal and a beer and see the game.

He arrived, as promised at around midday: a lovely warm day, good to travel along reasonably familiar roads. A reminder of the trip last year, when we were on a great run and came away five one winners. Quite different this time round. County having gone eleven games without losing and us? Hmmm?

But, somewhere on the way my ‘phone went. It was embedded in an autumn-coat pocket in the back of the car. I considered not answering. But, honestly: for people to ring me usually means an emergency. So I fished around, and answered.

The next few moments were shocking!

A long-time friend, family man, going to buy fireworks had been identified as one of those killed in the Stafford fire. Not only a friend, but a long-time Saddlers supporter who has shared, over the years in the journeys, ups and downs of football. And our annual bonfires! And the memories skittled by. Andy too was upset.

I may write more about this in another post. There is so much more to tell; suffice it for now to say that changed the mood; although I guess I actually didn’t take it in properly.

We found the same pub/restaurant we parked in last year. The Riverside right on the River Trent, close to both Notts County and Nottingham Forest grounds. Still decked out with Hallowe’en fripperies. We discussed horror movies (classic and modern) and the traditions of Hallowe’en for a few minutes, then ordered fish and chips. Honestly? Over-priced and the fish was too wet to taste. But we were able to use the car park and it was food. And the beer was tasty (Indian Pale Ale for me.)

Getting darker by the time we set out to walk around three sides of the ground and, despite a small panic I did have enough to pay to get in.

Very sophisticated ticket. Seat number and all, but once past the noisy, beer drinking Walsall fans around the bar the stewards said predictably perhaps:

“Sit where you like, the numbers mean nothing.”

A good following from Walsall, but a large section of the ground was roped off and it seemed like a small home crowd. We got seats with a good view … and chatted with the steward. Certainly the friendliest stewards I have come across this season so far. About club histories, about Nottingham Forest “taking away a generation of fans”, about the game last season.

Walsall went off fast! Pressing forwards. Tom Bradshaw on his own up front. Antony Forde keeping his place and Romaine Sawyers in midfield. Some fine Saddlers attacking moves seemed to surprise and shake County, though they had their own raids. But our passing play looked smoother and more confident.

At the back Ben Purkiss seems to be fit and match fit again. he made some good interceptions, covering tackles and got forward effectively too. Andy Taylor steady as always opposite him on the left. O’Donnell also made some good saves early on. This built his confidence as the game went on. Some fine refereeing when tackles became ragged. The referee calling offenders and captains together for a word. It worked.

We took the lead deservedly. Jordan Cook and Sawyers combined to end a move with Cook having a deflected shot hit the inside of the County post and dribble over the goal line.

County then moved up a gear. Long runs from mid-field, mostly unchallenged. Long shots. But a slip up had a long angled cross finding the striker who headed a good goal past O’Donnell.

Disappointing but perhaps inevitable. We were giving up too much ground and our forward moves slowed down. Often with Sawyers, undoubtedly a talented player taking too long on the ball or trying for the complicated pass, back-heel or lay off. Sometimes the simple thing is the right thing.

By half time it was getting cold. There was a spirited kids game going on below us at half time, some very accomplished moves and five goals!

Second half kicked off and the Walsall team were revitalised. Taking control of the game as they had done at the start of the first half.

With so much pressure and surviving a few counter attacks thanks to superb agility from Richard O’Donnell we were awarded a free kick when a central defender reached up and pulled the ball down. Walsall appealed for a penalty and the referee, again doing the correct thing, consulted with the assistant ref – and gave the penalty.

Tom Bradshaw struck it brilliantly and it went, like a crossbow bolt into the back of the net. His celebrations and the response of the travelling fans was marvellous. Oh and no booking for celebrating the goal so joyously.

 

Manset came on with a little time remaining but had no chance to show his real skills: tripping when chasing a ball, recovering well, but fluffing the pass when another goal looked likely.

On the final whistle, shoulders down he sloped off towards the tunnel while the rest of the team came over to show their appreciation for our support. Wisely somebody sent Manset over. It was a wonderful moment. No doubt the support helps the team out – these moments after games show they understand that.

In the dark skies on the quiet journey home fireworks were flashing and waking up sadness.

Gillingham: Home

Strange how days seem to merge and blur over the Easter break. With the game at Carlisle on Good Friday the day seemed like a Saturday with me typing on the computer, listening to the radio commentaries and actually expecting there to be a Match of the Day on TV (there wasn’t of course). Saturday seemed strange with Premiership matches going on (including Sunderland beating Chelsea at Stamford Bridge handing Liverpool a good chance to establish a real challenge for the title in Sunday’s game (they took it, beating Norwich City fairly convincingly)).

And today’s bank Holiday home game against Gillingham adding to the confusion.

Or was it only confusing for me?

The people at the booking office have been great this season, courteous, efficient and helpful. I will not be needing this service next season as I now have a season ticket (apart from advance buying away tickets and – ooo-er – tickets for our –we can but hope – Cup run). My thanks to them all.

Bright, sunny journey. Birds singing, my car freshly cleaned inside and flowers springing up everywhere. Gossip on BBC WM is that David Moyes will be sacked by Man United (this is the way that rumours start, I’m thinking, start, build up credibility and become fact). I am deeply jealous of the resources that man Utd have (or apparently command) but aware that behind that is the spiral-drive for success and then success-plus. I had hoped that a club like United would stand against the trends. Moyes was reasonably successful at Everton after all and, in my opinion deserves a longer bedding-in period. Sir Alex Ferguson was always going to be a tricky act to follow; he managed the football and commercial aspects of the job well – the pressures too!

Meanwhile – it could all be rumour and supposition a la radio – in local place and time I am parked and marching to the ground, past loitering supporters on mobile phones and deep in desultory conversations I head for the seat that will have my name on it next season.

Westcarr’s back from suspension, Lalkovic recovered from his hamstring strain and Gillingham, on paper, poor opposition.

We start strongly, rattle the Gills defence then settle back a little tamely. Febian Brandy is, typically, keen to do well, so too is Lalkovic. They might both be playing to attract attention from Championship scouts, hoping to get deals for next season. I hope we can keep Brandy, but also sensibly think he may cost too much for our means. Lalkovic too.

Paul Downing appears to lead a charmed life today, the referee not penalising what looked like fouls and at least one penalty, eventually and predictably getting booked for a fairly innocuous one later in the game. No appeals from the Gillingham players either, who are starting to look direct and capable. Mal Benning meanwhile, playing at left back is raiding up the wings like a good ‘un, full of pace and ambition and tricky ball skills taking him into some good positions. He rains crosses into the penalty area. Too bad no Walsall player can get on to the end of them.

There is a good following from Gillingham, it’s a long way to travel (a hundred and sixty something miles, translates as three hours or so of travel) at this stage of the season, so fair play to their faithful (a.k.a. noisy) supporters.

Not so many Walsall supporters here. Busy gardening? Decorating? Lost interest? Out of money?

We talk about the November stag night. Venue fixed. Tallin. Flights and hotel to be organised. Leaving Stansted at seven a.m. doesn’t sound too bright but gives us more time in the city I guess. I am looking forward to it – fly out on Friday, back on Sunday … but hope there isn’t a home match that weekend.

Half time. Inside for a coffee. Talk about families, work. Almost forget we are at a football game and kick off has been taken and play is under way as we saunter back out to our seats. Nearby a man is scribbling notes on to a paper. I guess he is a scout for one of the teams we have yet to play. What an interesting task and I wonder how they actually do it? Some pre-arranged format?

Good open play from both teams, but Westcarr tried a couple from long range (unusual for Walsall this season) and from one of them the ball came back off the keeper’s outstretched hand to Brandy, running in to blast into the back of the net.

Some minutes before the end Gillingham are level. The umpteenth team we have helped avoid relegation in the last few weeks … and we have won only two of the last sixteen games. Good job we put a shift in early on in the season.

Elsewhere, tensions are still going on between Russia, the Ukraine and the rest of the world.

It’s Queen Elizabeth’s eighty eighth birthday. She celebrates with a rare “private day” at home with the family, while all over London there are military gun-salutes. We do pageantry so well.

It is also the fiftieth birthday of BBC 2.

Across the pond Boston is extremely security conscious about its annual marathon, following the harrowing scenes at the finish line last year, when terrorists exploded a bomb as runners were finishing. Dreadful!

We were in Boston in October of last year. Having been on an escorted “leaf Peeper” tour of New England and out in the rural parts for many days, Boston seemed intimidatingly cityish as we drove in, but soon took on human proportions as we walked out across the Common.

match images; saddlers.co.uk and Walsall Advertiser

Crewe (home)

11^th March, 2014

Morning TV reminds us all today is the first day of the Cheltenham Festival (that’s horse racing) and that, last year there was snow and the track was frozen hard. It is also singing the praises of our athlete’s at the Paralympic games in Sochi. Jade Etherington and Kelly Gallagher winning our first Paralympic “on-snow” medals for their courage in taking on ski-ing while being partially sighted. That’s courage! Our two curling teams are doing well too, it seems. The new one for me is called, I think sledge hockey, and looks like a violent version of the original rollerball film. Disabled players on sledges with ice-hockey style sticks and a puck. Have to try and watch one of the games.

No snow here, this time around. Blue skies, sunshine after early fog and, after a day up at the allotments – mostly it seems shifting slabs –  my body is aching and part of me just wants to curl up in the foetal position in a dark room. The M6 is closed somewhere nearby and that causes knock-on problems for local traffic. As well then that, a bit obsessive perhaps, I set off with plenty of time to spare. A more-than-usual amount of Walsall fans are on the radio and one of them, tempting fate, suggests that after all of the recent defeats Crewe might be in for “a tanking”. Strange how that sent a shiver up my spine. Easily finding a parking spot – my traditional one – I get just a little cold walking to the ground. I don’t rush, there is plenty of time. I’m not queuing to collect a ticket. This one was bought as part of a link-up deal with the Wolves game.

Towering above us, and more importantly the M6, is what was (maybe still is?) Europe’s largest road-side electronic advertising hoarding … and it is advertising forthcoming events at Bescot (but not the matches) and switches to an ad about gas boilers featuring  our captain Andy Butler who is training to be a plumber when his footballing days are over at Walsall college. Gas boilers advertised on an electronic sign: ironic perhaps?

Turnstile staff are, as usual cheerful. But the ground is markedly empty. Two coach loads of hardy Crewe (the Alex) fans stir about in the roof of the Family Stand, but Walsall supporters are like patches of colour and slow-motion movement scattered about elsewhere.

This journal was born as a result of Crewe Alexandra. Mark Savage, a relative of some remove (I never was much good at remembering family links) is a died-in-the –head Crewe supporter. Son of my great-auntie’s oldest daughter (you work it out). Last couple of seasons we’ve headed in to see them, eaten lunch and drunk tea together and taken in the game.

Mark sent me a text saying he couldn’t make this game. Then another saying he had had a book published on Amazon called A Hundred and Twenty Grounds for Divorce. It’s apparently about the break-up of his marriage, subsequent events and his ambition to visit every Football League ground. I mean to buy it (at 77p it’s got to be worth it eh?) But, I thought Hmmm, slightly different but give it a try.

Hence this journal. Thanks Mark. I think.

The two teams are warming up well before kick-off. Nobody could fault our levels of fitness this year anyway. The colours look clean and fresh and the playing surface has been well maintained, looking green and even. Our goalkeeping coach has a fierce shot on him as he’s trying to warm up keeper Richard O’Donnell. And there’s us in need of a striker!

The game starts slowly and never gets going in the first half. We’re trying to be patient, passing the ball across the back a lot, then up, then back again. It is painful to watch but at least we’re not losing as we go in. And they’ve had two players booked. There is the ridiculous pantomime of stewards asking to see season tickets as we drift into the lounge. Not sure what the point is when the ground is so damned empty and letting everyone in might mean we sell a few more beers.

Talk about the planned “stag night” trip. It was going to be Tallinn, now, it seems there is some doubt. Accompanying the father of the groom I am keen to know exactly what responsibilities I will have. Keeping the party out of fights with other groups?

Second half and suddenly we are losing. Crewe looked better than us in the first half, although we could have pretended we were playing a patient passing game waiting to play the killer ball and slam four or five goals in.

Really ?? Well we can dream can’t we?

We seem to liven up a bit then and there are chances at both ends. Substitutions. Lalkovic on, Ngoo on. On loan from Liverpool he is apparently an England under 21 striker … must wonder as he is warming up in front of such a small crowd what his future holds. He tries hard enough and has a fierce shot bent around the near post. But for all our pressure we are getting nowhere, rarely testing their keeper in fact.

Then there’s a searching Lalkovic cross, missed by all the Walsall players up there and planted perfectly into the net by a Crewe defender. Seems for moment that he’s the only one who believes it.

 

Then the ref’s whistle: the  cue  the manic, mighty – some might say edge-of-desperation roar from the now-enthusiastic Saddlers fan and the gallop to a 1-1 draw.

Incidentally the whole Ukraine/Russia situation is no longer big news. Doesn’t mean it has been resolved of course.

 

Photosource:Walsall Advertiser