Day Out
Gareth Jones goes to the seaside in August…
From Hertford North station, Pete, Adam and I took the 6.12 am train into London. Yes early I know but had made sure to stay off the beers the previous evening so was in fairly good spirits.
On the train we chatted football. Pete is a Blackpool fan (bless him!) and Adam is an Evertonian who came along for the ride. As I remember we took the 7.25 train to Preston. Soon after the journey began I started on a 12 pack of Boddingtons which I had lovingly packed in my rucksack. The lads couldn't believe I had started drinking so early but my argument is that, as a student, I have a reputation to maintain! It was a bit of a nightmare as the beer had been well shook up, and sprayed all over the legs of the other passengers when opened! On arrival in Blackpool was 6 cans to the good. I didn't feel too bad though as had had a fairly substantial packed lunch also. Without further ado we went to our B & B. Virtually the only one Pete could find where three lads could stay for just one night. It was quite nice though slightly pricey at 26 pounds. We didn't have a great deal of choice though! All we had to do now was meet some ladies that evening!
Later lunch was in order. In one of Blackpool's many
cafes I had a salad. I guess I was feeling a little bit guilty at all the beer I'd drunk.
We then went along the seafront and did some shopping (Blackpool really makes me laugh,
with open fronted shops selling scouser wigs and blow up dolls - it's so tacky!). Pete
bought in Blackpool FC's shop, their new home shirt. We then went to a pub, close to
Bloomfield Road, for a quick beer or two prior to kick-off. This particular pub was awash
with Wrexham fans which was nice. I'm surprised I didn't cause a large-scale evacuation
though, with my potent, Boddingtons related flatulence (this is no doubt too much
information!) Outside Bloomfield Road the three of us went our separate ways. Pete and
Adam to the home supporters end and I to the Wrexham end where I met my Dad who was sort
of in the area as was holidaying in Llansannan at his Mums. It was great to see so much
away support present for this first game of the season (hope springs eternal!), I thought
it was a fairly dodgy ground though. The away support made a lot of noise. The game itself
though, was, especially towards the end, a bit frustrating from a Wrexham fans
perspective. We had a huge amount of posession but didn't do much with it. Also our
tactics became predictable as we continually crossed the ball in from the wing only for
Blackpool's tall defenders to clear. Twice early on also, we defended badly from corners
and were punished with goals to the home side. At least Wrexham scored though.
After the match met up again with Pete and Adam. Pete kindly didn't give me too much earache about the result. I guess he knew that in terms of possession, Blackpool didn't deserve all three points. We then went for tea to another cafe, the three of us, my Dad, Mum and both of my Grandmothers. I had chips and gravy amongst other things. I used to eat this a lot whilst living in Liverpool, but it's a delicacy not to be found in southern chippies! I then said my farewells to my family and we returned to our B&B. I had a quick half-hour's snooze before getting dressed up. The three of us did a mini pub crawl. There were so many groups out on hen or stag nights. In one pub met a bride to be called Lisa from Hull or 'ull as she called it. She, I guess was enjoying one of her final nights of freedom prior to tying the knot! In another pub/club did my knees no favours dancing wildly to 'Insomnia' by Faithless. We ended up in the Palace nightclub where I, for I don't know how long, fell asleep. All the Red Bull and Vodkas I'd been drinking weren't enough. None of us, alas, had cause to take anyone back to our room, but it had been a great evening.
Early the next morning watched MOTD prior to sauntering into breakfast at the last minute we could before it was too late. I had poached haddock which I really enjoyed. Later on we went ten pin bowling which was a lot of fun and something I hadn't done in a while. We then went to see Austin Powers' latest offering, The Spy Who Shagged Me. I thought this was very funny in places though not a classic. My friends were loath to sit near me as I had a recurrence of the aforementioned beer related problem! Nice! We had time for a good nosh up at Pizza Hut prior to taking the train at 2pm-odd.
The journey home was fairly uneventful. I parted company with Adam and Pete at Euston and arrived home in Canterbury at around 10.30, tired but having had a great weekend. At least I didn't sleep through my stop as I did after the away game at Luton. This though, is another story.
Day Out
Dean Domerecki goes to St.Andrews to check up on two old boys…
Saturday afternoon on the day after the Cardiff match, and I was strolling through the uncomfortable midday heat out of the city and towards the ground.
Turning off the main road and up a side street, I was struck by the sight of two railway viaducts crossing the road ahead of me. Something nagged away at the back of my mind as I approached them, until I recognised the feeling for what it was - déjà vu. I had only been there once before, but it was the exact spot where, some twenty-seven years or so earlier, my friend's dad had stopped and told us about the grand history of City, the honesty of its supporters and the true value of football in our culture. As we looked up at him, wide-eyed seven-year-olds drinking in this wisdom, the viaducts were right above him. That was almost certainly only the second professional football match I attended, and, living close to Birmingham, a sports-mad city, I got to visit all the grounds of the local top level clubs at that time - Villa (my first match), Wolves, City of course, Coventry, and the Albion. Not a bad education in football for a young 'un.
Now I was on a different mission to St Andrews - to see City, including their number 4, Bryan Hughes, take on Port Vale, whose captain, also number 4, was one Dave Brammer. A match-up between one of the division's heavyweights, and one of its small clubs. My sympathies were with Vale, and I joined their supporters in the Railway End, hoping to see the underdogs do well against a definite promotion-seeking side. Sadly, the other player with a Wrexham link, Carl Griffiths, was not in Vale's squad. Even before kick-off, City looked formidable - a collection of solid, reliable first division players spiced with some not-quite-premiership-standard names, like Paul Furlong, Dele Adebola and Peter Ndlovu. In the warm up, Hughes looked fit and sleek, Brammer combative and purposeful - as always. The game did not have long to go before the first action: Tommy Widdrington (remember him?) playing up front for Vale launched into a horrendous flying two-footed tackle that caught Paul Furlong above his knee. People held their breath, wondering whether Furlong was going to get up, which he did thankfully after a while. The referee was brave enough to reach for the red card straight away, even in only the second minute - incredibly, Vale fans berated him, even though the tackle was in the 'career-threatening' category.
The dice were loaded even more in City's favour now. Predictably, City went two up quite quickly, the first goal being scored by Hughes, shimmying inside the Vale right back before curling a beauty of a shot into the far top corner. Furlong added a second from close range. Vale huffed and puffed, and Brammer shouted, encouraged, and got stuck in. Remarkably, Vale scored twice in the first half, the tiny Tony Naylor setting up the first for the impressive Tony Rougier to crack in a twenty-yarder, before jinking his way through the penalty box, Ricky Villa-like, to coolly add the second. Furlong scored a third for City in between these, but as Vale had had only two chances in the first half, Trev would not have been a happy man over the half-time tea.
The Vale fans backed their side gamely throughout, but everyone knew deep down that there would be no surprise result, and so it turned out. City used their heads in the second half, kept possession against the ten men, and simply ran the legs off Vale. Bryan Hughes netted his second from an incredibly slick free kick on the edge of the box - with everyone expecting a shot, the ball was played in along the ground with pace: two passes, and Hughes on the end of the resulting Z-shape to finish from ten yards. The keeper (Musselwhite - remember him?) hardly had a chance to move. As the game wore on, City looked more menacing, with pace and strength up front we just don't see in the second division. It ended 4-2, though in truth it could have been 6-0. At the final whistle Hughes and Brammer, who had been in close proximity throughout the match, were predictably only feet apart, and shook hands with what I imagined would be a genuine kinship - ex-Reds made good, sharing a common background.\
On reflection? Bryan Hughes looked incredibly sharp and super-fit, played with real intelligence and skill and scored twice - he was fantastic. Dave Brammer was all that you expected him to be, a captain leading from the front, involved in absolutely everything, and a credit to himself and to Wrexham. If the honours on the day went to Bryan, you had to allow for the overall superiority of the City team and the man advantage that they enjoyed on a hot afternoon; Dave fought and fought, and, like the other nine players for Vale, acquitted himself well. (By the way, Dave, you looked better in red!) Speaking to supporters of both teams, the ex-Wrexham men are very highly regarded, and, we reckoned, are definitely potential Premiership players, if only 'squad members' rather than star performers. Perhaps we ought not to forget the hard work put in by our coaching staff and the credit due to them - well done Brian, Kevin and Joey, you should be happy to see your ex-charges performing so ably.
The Birmingham skyline basked in the late afternoon sun after the match, and the air was stifling. The oppression was lifted momentarily by the cool shadow of the railway viaducts. I wonder if it will be another twenty-seven years to my next visit - and if so, will I still recall that feeling of déjà vu in the year 2026?
Day Out
James Dearnley, Loughborough-based Oxford fan, arrives in North Wales for the Wrexham-Oxford encounter…
Oxford's handy combination of no money, a half-completed stadium, a playing squad of 20, a psychotic manager and an injury-prone side have not encouraged too much optimism amongst U's fans this season.
In fact, the run of results which led up to our visit to the Racecourse provided some cause for concern - 16th before the game and only two league wins in the season (a lucky 2-1 result against Stoke away and a dull 1-0 win against Oldham). However, this did not stop the Loughborough Yellows (membership - three plus one away in Latvia) from making the cross-country drive.
We found the ground by accident, having turned off the 'ring road' somewhere. I don't know what it looked like before development of the new stand, but the effect is striking. Full marks for keeping the floodlights as well - grounds just aren't the same without them, nor is navigating around strange towns! We arrived a couple of hours early for kick-off, and enjoyed the delights of Sainsbury's 'customer restaurant' plus welcome free parking. And then for the pre-match ritual of several calming beers, or so we thought. The 'Plas Coch' was shut and we got refused admission to the 'Turf Tavern'. One of the match stewards advised us to tell the bouncers that we were from Johnstown and drank in the 'Travellers'. However, this ruse faced some complications - 1) I have a fruity English accent, and 2) wasn't looking forward to being one of only two Oxford fans in there, and 3) didn't want any 'action'. We went to the Wetherspoons instead along with other disgruntled Oxford supporters for a pint.
The Racecourse, as most grounds do I guess, looks much bigger from outside than inside (in particular the new stand), but has an impressive looking 'Kop' (someone on the Oxford United Internet Forum said it could hold 19,000 - must be a bit tight!). We enjoyed some Abba hits to tap along to while watching furry mascots cavorting on the pitch. Alarm bells started ringing when trying to spot any of our defenders warming up.
The match itself scared the hell out of us for at least
30 minutes, with Oxford's 'defence' consisting of McGowan (new left-back from Albion
Rovers), Lewis (36 year old Youth Team Manager who last played in 1996, and in midfield),
Robinson (geriatric right-back and captain) and Folland (reserve squad centre forward
playing at right back). On the bench, our four substitutes consisted of two wingers and
two centre forwards; our reserve 'keeper was away on International duty with South Africa.
We were fortunate only to be trailing by one at half-time, and perhaps unfortunate not to
equalize in the second half. But, the Oxford habit of losing 0-1 away and creating few
clear chances goes back many years, and we are practiced in resignation. Of course, four
days later we play Everton away in the Worthington Cup and win 1-0…
Best of luck for the rest of the season.
Night Out
Mike Hughes goes to Old Trafford to a European game with an intriguing Wrexham angle…
Forgive me oh Joey for I have sinned!!! Not once but twice!!! Contractual obligation I'm afraid.
Having a partner who is a trainee solicitor is an exercise in self-restraint as one sits back for two years and watches them undergo ritual humiliation after ritual humiliation and zilch legal training so they can get a Law Society dinner at the end. So, when she gets what she perceives as a major perk (Executive Box tickets for the Theatre of 'No penalties for the opposition…ever, ever!!!") then one feels obliged to go along and experience one of her few highs. (There's a joke here about legal and non-legal highs but I could get in deep!!!).
This can cause complications. My one big away trip of last season was to be Stoke City. Twenty-four hours beforehand she gets offered United vs Southampton tickets and the evil step-daughter gets her opportunity to see her first pseudo-Reds game. (York City and Scunthorpe in the FA Cup apparently didn't count - what does it say when ten goals, a hat-trick, a penalty and a sending off aren't enough excitement from 180 minutes to convert a potential Robin into a real one?). Well, that's me scuppered in favour of a rite of passage!
The first experience of an Executive Box was, for me, soul-destroying. This was not helped by being distracted from the winning goal by VIPs girlfriend telling a joke which, after eighty odd minutes of wittering, I made the mistake of finally giving in to and turning away from the pitch/window to listen to. My annoyance was not alleviated by everyone else pointing out that I could watch the replay on the TV behind my head. Suffice to say the Stoke result and subsequent report of excellence at the Potteries from Domerecki of Zog failed to lift my spirits. NEVER again I vowed!!! So, Tuesday afternoon in work. That night Sprog is at Nanna's and it's a choice between All About My Mother and South Park. Arty cinema had, at this point, apparently won! One hour before work end comes the fatal call! Even arty film gives way to the call of Old Triffid!
"Dim Sum Sir?", "Fish and Chips Sir?", Cheese and crackers Sir?". "More atmosphere Sir? Switch to your left. Turn it clockwise!". Then suddenly, the realisation that there's a Wrexham connection as Mark Wilson is in for Roy Keane. Oh joy. Trouble is I then remember that we're talking Mark Wilson here. It might have been two seasons ago but my recollection is pretty clear. Very pretty and potentially very effective he struck me as lacking in pace and concentration. So, after Fergie prefaced the season by suggesting that young Mark was one of the players he expected to make a real push for a first team place this season, I wondered what had changed.
Well, in reality, not a lot. Obviously he suffers in comparison to Keane as he performs a very different role, however, the words "Jamie Redknapp/Neil Webb" kept coming back to me. Very tidy (as fat Ron said behind me) but no pace and nothing inspirational. He was subbed after an hour for Sheringham and tried not to look too put out at the hero's welcome inevitably afforded the latter. Overall, however, I would suggest he may be destined for success only if he's put in alongside a driving player such as Keane or Butt. In the same way Beckham loses the plot and plays thirty yards further back without Keane so Mark Wilson looked slightly lost without someone to battle and make space for him. No doubt I shall be dragged back one day soon for another look!!!
Now perhaps I shall visit Maine Road and view Mr. Cooke. Recent letters to Red Passion suggest a certain amount of revisionism on the part of fans a little narked by Mr.C's comments about Wrexham fans. My recollection is of a player who quickly achieved match fitness with us and who generally gave us a bit of shape as well as a succession of excellent crosses which merely illustrated our strikers lack of anticipation. I'd have loved to see Faulconbridge and Mr. C. My understanding from City fans (I work with five with very varied views) is that there is a consensus that he was 'on fire' when he first joined City and then had a flat period (no doubt through tiredness) after his sprog was born. After recently being dropped for the first time he's come back and is forming a formidable two wing attack for City but currently doesn't get much credit because City's defence is formulated in such a way that their natural inclination is to feed the ball to Kennedy rather than Terry.
Anyway, a City fan I know tells a story about how his brother-in-law frequents Mr.C's local and has noted at least one occasion when Mr.C. and mother of sprog have sat in pub all night without exchanging a single word. Perhaps she knows some anti-English chants???
Night Out
Gareth Davies goes to Ninian Park…
Those of you who are regular readers of this fanzine or who know me, will have realised that Ninian Park is my least favourite away ground.
For outright hostility I have never met anything like
it, Shrewsbury and Chester
don't begin to compare. My apprehension was not helped by the violence at the Cardiff v
Millwall game, and whilst the blame seems to lie at the feet of the South Londoners, I
know from past experience that not all Cardiff fans are angels either. To be fair though,
they did make a right racket inside the ground, well until we equalised anyway.
My evening started with being picked up straight from work by fellow Wrexham fans, Tim Norbury and his brother Jon, who for some strange reason decided to watch the game in the Cardiff end???!!! Mogs, and a couple of Bluebirds who we knew. We went straight to the ground, and the streets around Ninian Park were just a sea of blue and white, it looked like a big crowd. After parking the car, we arrived at the turnstiles five minutes before kick off, expecting to go straight in. However, we were still in the queue to go in some 10 minutes later. I still can't believe that kick off wasn't delayed, as added to the 50 or so Wrexham fans outside, there were thousands of Bluebirds milling around the place. When we eventually got in the Wrexham fans were still in a line from the turnstile out to the road.
My stay in the ground nearly didn't last all that long. Having paid, I walked in and waited for Tim and Mogs. While I did this, a steward told me very forcefully that I couldn't stand there, and to move or I would be chucked out. I told him I was just waiting for the next two people in the queue, and that I would move on in a second and find my seat. He was having none of it, saying he wanted no trouble tonight, and I would be ejected if I didn't move. When I told him I was there to enjoy a good game of football and not cause trouble he looked almost surprised. The Wrexham section was fuller than I'd expected. There were about 350-400 there, much better than the 60 or so hardy souls at the WPC game there.
The game was in full swing by the time I reached my
seat, and we were looking
fairly comfortable, we hadn't created anything, but then Cardiff weren't doing much
either. Bowen though was to give Cardiff the lead after poor marking had left the City
striker with a free header two yards out. It was the only mistake Carey and Ridler made
all night as the two were outstanding for the rest of the evening. We pressed forward at
the end of the half, but Cardiff deservedly had a 1-0 first half lead. The second
immediately started better, with Wrexham realising they had to attack. Carey having a
curling effort superbly saved by Hallworth. From the resulting corner, after a bit of
pinball in the box, Ian Stevens produced a brilliant overhead kick to equalise. Ninian
Park suddenly went from a noisy fortress into a quiet unthreatening lower division league
ground. Our joy soon turned to despair though, Owen being sent off for what appeared to be
a harsh decision. Ryan came on for Faulconbridge as we rearranged. It was no backs to the
wall stuff as we absorbed attack after attack. Being honest, Cardiff should have scored
twice more, and they were a far better side than I thought they would be, but the fact
that we hung on is testament to the new found character and belief that the squad have
seem to have found.
We all watched the highlights programme later. There was the typical South Walian bias. Still it's one more point towards our ultimate goal...Division I.