Night Out
Paul Lindsay goes to London to see Fulham-Wrexham (and his girlfriend)
Having a girlfriend who lives in South London presents
certain difficulties when you are a football fan living two hundred miles away and
fixtures inevitably clash with times when you can get together. However, when "the
boys" are in the capital its usually a case of "I'd love to come and see you
next weekend", to which the reply is invariably, "Who are you playing." She
knows me too well.
Setting off from Surbiton station at 1.08pm on the day
of the Fulham match, I knew that the journey to Craven Cottage would be straightforward.
Five minutes and one stop to Wimbledon, quick change to the District Line and then alight
at Parsons Green where I'd arranged to meet fellow Red Passion first- teamer Jonathan
Crewe, for some quality pre match ale at the White Horse. I duly arrive at Wimbledon and
then disaster strikes! All District Line trains between Wimbledon and Putney Bridge
cancelled and replaced by a bus service. I wander out into the forecourt frustrated and
managed to find a harrased looking official who in response to my request for the Parsons
Green service points to three typical 'London buses' and says "That red one over
there mate!"
I eventually find the bus and it eventually gets me
where I want to go. Coming down Putney High Street we pass 'Roosters Fried Chicken'.which
I decide is a very lucky omen even though Mr Russell would not be playing. I duly meet the
aforementioned Mr Crewe and we venture into the pub to choose a quality beer and what
should we find behind the bar but 'Roosters Ale'. It's fate, we simply cannot fail to get
a result. Just as we decide to depart to hike to the ground Rhodri Jones, from Coedpoeth,
now exiled in Reading turns up with some friends so we decided to have a swift one before
we go.
By twenty to three we abandon all thoughts of walking to the match and decide to hail a cab to get us there for kick off. Taxi number one decided to turn off his light just as we stop him and tells us he is "off to see the missus" and isn't taking anymore fares. A little further down the road a cab drops off a fare. "Can you take us to Craven Cottage please" we enquire. "Sorry lads I'm off to the toilet now". Bloody hell, does no-one want our fare? Suddenly we spot an empty cab approaching but in the opposite direction. We dart across the busy road cheating death and flag him down. This time he's willing to take us but "you'd be quicker off walking lads, the traffic's murder down there." Aaarrrgggghhhh!!!!! It's 2.50pm
Suddenly into panic mode an A-Z appears and we frantically locate the appropriate page to
guide us the shortest way to 'the Cottage'. Straight along here, cross the main road, 4th
on the left, then down to the bottom and turn right and hey presto. The game has just
kicked off as we pass the Everton team coach (when are we going to get our own?) and enter
the away end. Fortunately we don't appear to have missed too much and take our places on
the crumbling terrace, the Red support bolstered by Neil Roberts, Kevin Russell and most
impressively the chairman who have all chosen to join us on this occasion.
I must confess that I, distracted by the banter with
the Fulham fans to the right, completely miss the penalty and only notice what is going on
when Karl puts the ball on the spot. One nil to the sheep shaggers!!! Fulham's equaliser
coming before half time sees Peschisolido unmarked at the far post to head home a goal
that quite frankly I could have scored. Nonetheless, one each at the interval. Not bad.
Half time sees fans sitting down to bask in the bright
afternoon sun. Mobile phones appear all over the place as 'part time supporters' are
updated on the score by their friends. I also spring into action with my pile of RP7s. One
obvious exile used to London prices asks for two copies and tries to give me £4, someone
else thinks they are £1.50 each. Neil Roberts stops me as I am wandering round to tell me
that he's not had a burger today, but a hotdog instead! Further along and someone remarks,
as I am giving change, "That Carl Tunnah, he's a homosexual!". In the interests
of fair play and not wishing to cast aspersions I enquire with Mr Tunnah as to the
accuracy of this allegation. "Who said that?, Where is he? 'Point him out to me,'
replies Tunnah! It also appears that Carl has been pestered by autograph hunters since his
starring appearance in RP7 and his brother Neil suggests that perhaps it would have been
better if we had printed his signature to go with the article. I guess that's just the
price of fame.
As the second half starts I decide to carry out a bit
of research for "Battle of the Tea Huts" and go back to see Neil Roberts for his
verdict on the hotdog. "No comment" he replies quite firmly, "you lot'll be
getting me into trouble, with all these allegations about burgers and the like".
"And", he adds "I hardly ever go into McDonalds". Rooster's still with
him and he's not happy either, "Someone likened me to a static caravan in the last
issue" he grumbles not entirely unreasonably. Spink goes off to be replaced by
Morrell. "Player of the season, Deano" says Roberts, "You can quote me on
that". I decide to return to my place and quit while I'm ahead.
The game continues and Morrell loses the ball to a
Fulham defender. "Get after him Roberts" yells one well informed supporter.
Neil, still standing several rows below us either doesn't or chooses not to hear. Fulham
continue to put the pressure on but we hold out against the champions and the game
finishes 1-1. It's nice to see Flynnie on the pitch joining the players in applauding the
travelling support and its a gesture that is reciprocated as the team and coaches leave
the field.
Back on the Rail replacement bus service, we crawl
along Putney High Street and back towards Wimbledon, As the pedestrians stream past us I
reflect on the point gained that takes us up to fifty two points and 13th place. Safe now
surely?
Lots of gutted Bluebirds (how nice)
My record for watching teams live this season whether it be Wrexham at footie or
Pontypridd or Wales at rugby is not great...in fact out of 18 games that I had seen, the
team I supported had only won six times, not something that filled me with great heart as
we were in Ponty before we left. Now the FAW Premier Cup might not be everyone's cup of
tea, but for those Wrexham fans exiled throughout Wales it gives us the opportunity to
watch the mighty Robins in the flesh. Three of the Ponty Reds, myself, Tom Jarvis and Tim
Norbury left Pontypridd at 6:20pm and caught the train to Ninian Park.
We arrived about 30 minutes before kick off, and even
considering it was a FAW Cup game the atmosphere was strangely subdued around the ground,
especially considering they had just won promotion. When we entered the ground we
discovered that the kick off had been delayed by 15 minutes, certainly not due to the
number of fans at the game.
The game started and Cardiff took the lead after five
minutes through a brilliant left footed drive from Middleton which gave Tommy Wright no
chance. For most of the rest of the game, Wrexham had most of the possession, and the tie
seemed to swing in our favour as Cardiff defender Phillips was sent off for a challenge on
Connolly. As the second half passed, we missed a number of good chances...in fact it must
have been close to double figures. The players, though, seemed to be almost too relaxed,
and so it was to prove as Cardiff managed to sneak a second goal with a minute remaining.
This meant that Cardiff were to go through, and
although the competition doesn't mean much, living 12 miles from Cardiff and being on a
Uni course with many Bluebirds meant that I really couldn't entertain the idea of being
knocked out of the competition by them. A lot had been made in the press about Jimmy
Glass' contribution to Carlisle staying in the league, and Tommy Wright fancied some of
the glory. As we won a corner kick, he made his way to the penalty box, though Morrell's
header was tipped over by Kelly. Owen knocked in the corner...Wright caused some confusion
and Morrell was on hand to knock the ball in off the post. The players went nuts, all
sliding in front of the Wrexham fans, as the Cardiff fans went suddenly quiet.
I can only think of a couple of occasions that a goal
has ever given me so much pleasure. Watching all those Bluebirds so happy one minute, then
gutted
the next...while for us it was the opposite. While this may not have been the biggest game
or the best result that Wrexham have ever had, the last five minutes will stay in the
memory, until we play Cardiff next season at least.
So off we trod back to Ponty, trying to keep the grins
off our faces as we walked through all the City fans. Hopefully we can now wipe the smile
off everything that is Barry Town and prove who is the best team in Wales! &127;RP
It could have been us
Peter Williams goes to a game not involving Wrexham…
It could have been us winning the Auto Windscreens
Shield at Wembley. It could quite easily have been us struggling desperately against
relegation. As things turned out, these two teams played quite a part in our season: Wigan
won both legs of the Northern AWS Final to halt our march to Wembley; Wycombe Wanderers, a
team who spent almost the whole season in the bottom four, beat us twice and were one of
the teams who brought the worst out in us.
As well as the 5-0 aggregate score against ourselves,
Wycombe were also, believe it or not, the only team to do the double over Manchester City.
But ex-Wimbledon striker Lawrie Sanchez had accepted a poisoned chalice when he took over
as manager in February. Despite a good run under their new boss, the first two-thirds of
their season had been so unspeakably dire that, at the time of this Wednesday night
fixture, they were still fighting for their Second Division lives and needed to win their
last two games to be sure of staying up. (Anyone out there who remembers Wrexham's
end-of-season in 1976-77 will know that the pressure is on at this stage.)
Wigan's form in the first half of the season had been
pretty unspectacular but, thanks to a tremendous run in 1999, now had a realistic chance
of a place in the play-offs. Three points tonight were a must, but because of the fixture
pile-up resulting from their AWS cup run, they were playing their sixth game in twelve
days. It would be tough.
So this match was a tense affair, especially for the home fans. And it didn't help when
ex-Cardiff striker Simon Haworth latched on to a rebound from home keeper Taylor to put
Wigan 1-0 up. As you might imagine, an ex-Don like Sanchez has instilled a fair amount of
fighting spirit in his side and, with immaculate timing, top scorer Sean Devine popped up
to equalise on the stroke of half-time.
Wycombe, geed up no doubt by a rousing team talk at
half time, started more strongly after the break and Emblen deflected a shot in to put the
home side 2-1 up. Some of it wasn't pretty to watch but Wycombe battled and battled.
Wigan's first half performance had confirmed that they were clearly the better footballing
side, and on another day they might have won at a canter. But understandably Lancashire
limbs wearied and the Latics just couldn't cope with the home side's constant harrying and
chivvying of the man with the ball.
Final score: 2-1 to Wycombe - out of the relegation
places for the first time since August - and a long Wednesday night trip home for the
Wigan fans.
Postscript: As things turned out, we'll be playing both these sides again next season: an
82nd-minute Wycombe goal gave them a dramatic win at fellow-strugglers Lincoln in their
last fixture to send their opponents down and ensure their own survival; Wrexham did their
bit to help Wigan into the play-offs, winning a comfortable point at Dean Court to scupper
Bournemouth's own play-off aspirations and lift the Latics into sixth place in the final
table, only for them to fall to Manchester City in the play-off semi-finals.
A night of pure tension
John Parry - Lincolnshire Red and Wrexham through and through - goes to watch two
not-very-good teams at Sincil Bank…
So into the final week it goes and a short drive to watch the Robins hopefully repeat
their victory in the AWS, but this time I travelled on my own as my friend had decided not
to go as, in his words, Lincoln have been playing rubbish for the last few games and they
are not worth the effort. Mind you having read the excellent Red Passion and read limited
reports in the national press I was not overly confident of victory but safe in the
knowledge that even if we lost Division 2 football was assured for next season, whereas it
was a must-win fixture for Lincoln in a bid to beat the drop.
Lincoln, and to a certain extent Wrexham, have been
skating on thin ice for weeks and they had a score to settle against Wrexham as we had
sent them out of the AWS through Bimson's own golden goal. The two meetings between the
clubs this season have brought two 2-1 victories, so another would make it a hat-trick and
send Lincoln down. One man they were confident of causing us problems was Lee Thorpe as
his strike rate over the past four games was five goals.
How motivated Wrexham will be remained to be seen, as
we are safe from relegation but in general have had a disappointing season when back in
August, Brian Flynn was hopeful of reaching the play-offs but that has never been a
realistic prospect. The arrival of Ian Rush has in my opinion has not inspired great
things. The veteran striker hasn't scored a single goal and it would be interesting to see
if he played. Also of interest to me would be the performance of the new boys signed just
before deadline day, as Brammer would have got my vote for player of the year with maybe
Spink or Carey a close second.
On a night of pure tension Lincoln peered right down
the barrel of relegation before Lee Thorpe rescued them with an 88th minute winning goal.
Into the closing minutes with Oldham beating Stoke, the Imps stared demotion into Division
Three and Wrexham further away from the relegation drop line. The Lincoln fans to their
credit were very good and as their side struggled they burst into noise and always
supportive, but with only 65 Wrexham fans present not a lot from us. The Lincolnshire Echo
came up with this figure and I am not surprised many did not attend at £13 and £8, it is
a bit steep for what according to some people in the area has been rubbish. It certainly
did look for long periods as though we could deny them their place in Division 2, Wrexham
were barely troubled from open play though we did look fallible when Lincoln's MOM Stuart
Bimson delivered the ball into our six-yard box.
First-half chances fell to Austin and Miller, and Owen
did well to head a corner from Bimson off the line after Wright misjudged it. On the hour
Ridler had an excellent chance to put us in front six yards out but somehow headed wide
and Vaughan saved a Connolly header, so into the last few minutes and desperation time for
Lincoln with Wrexham still defending very well when from another teasing corner Wright
saved a Walling header but was helpless as Thorpe lashed a low shot past him. Joy and
relief for Lincoln but the Wrexham fans who made the long journey must have been a little
disappointed that to give away a goal in the last few minutes having played not too good
but seeming to have done enough to make the long journey home a bit happier.
Even though Wrexham had nothing to play for we were truly professional and made it very
difficult for Lincoln to break down. I was pleased with the performance of the new boys
Barrett and Elliott but disappointed that Morrell and Ryan did not get a game. I
understand talking to a fan that the new stand is well on the way (but will they fill it?)
and the seats are in place in the Paddock and new toilets at the home end, so in some ways
things are on the way up but I feel on the pitch we definitely need some to score goals or
are we going to see the same struggle next season as I for one don't want to see us down
in Division 3 again.
There does seem to be a lack of ambition in the club as to on field activities, eg. transfer fees, wages, hence the Carl Griffiths affair. At the board level, I only hope they are listening, and we are not on a slippery slope to a loss of league status. We wait and see.
So close and yet so far away
Nathan Davies spends an evening in a crashed car…
I can be a cruel bastard sometimes. I had been suffering all season from exposure to a
brittle defence, lacklustre midfield and impotent attack and decided I should not suffer
alone. After weeks of persuasion and encouragement I managed to persuade two of my friends
to accompany me to a Wrexham horror show which have been abundant this season. I dragged
my two friends, kicking and screaming, to the quaint cobble stoned streets of
Huddersfield, where men in flat caps lead their whippets around a futuristic football
stadium which sticks out like Peter Schmeichel's nose amidst the terraced housing of this
old, industrial town.
I remember going to their old ground at Leeds Road
years ago and finding it a good, traditional stadium when supporters were happy to stand
in the freezing cold whilst getting soaked and blow dried by force 10 gales. Sadly,
football has changed and the football fan is "supposedly" pampered as they are
served cold pies and warm beer whilst forced to sit on cheap bits of plastic by
Hitleresque stewards. Capitalists have got hold of our game by the scruff of its neck and
are shaking every last penny from our gullible pockets. We are addicted to the beautiful
game so we play along with this money-making charade.
I was quite happy to jump in my car, drive for a couple
of hours and pay a ridiculous price for 90 minutes of "entertainment". My
friends and I were running a little late. We were caught in a traffic jam and crawled
along at a Rush-like pace. It was so frustrating.
Finally the traffic began to clear and I put my foot
down. We made good progress and ten minutes before the game was due to begin I caught
first sight of the ground and some familiar faces brandishing cans of Wrexham Lager whilst
sporting the latest line in subtle merchandise from our quality club shop which
overshadows Huddersfield's hypermarket.
Catatonia were on the radio and Cerys was delighting
the audience with a rapturous rendition of Road Rage. This was to prove a fitting
soundtrack for the next eventful five minutes. In Yorkshire they seem to have different
rules of the road as while kick-off time approached and I frantically searched for a
parking space I was a little surprised and annoyed when a Huddersfield fan decided to
plough his car into my passenger door. He was in a rush as he'd forgotten to tape
Emmerdale. As we swapped insurance details and Catatonia reached the climactic chorus of
their popular hit fireworks were launched from within the McAlpine Stadium. They were
merely celebrating the arrival of another greedy capitalist but the heavens appeared to be
goading me as I shuddered from shock in my battered car.
I moved the car to a safe place but could not leave it
as the door would not shut properly and the passenger window was shattered. I phoned the
RAC and my friends and I waited patiently to be rescued from our Yorkshire nightmare. I
repeatedly apologised for not getting to see the match but my friends support Wycombe and
Barnet, so they had not had so much fun for years.
The ground was about 200 yards away. I could hear Jacko
leading the chants and smell Rush's daily dose of Sanatogen whilst stranded in my poor,
bruised car. Frustration clouded my soul as I turned on the radio and was forced to
imagine what was occurring behind the doors of this northern pleasure dome. The
commentator kept lying as he described Flynn as "shrewd", Cartwright as "a
safe pair of hands" and Russell as "hairy". I had difficulty imagining how
well we were battling after our depressing performance at home to Preston the previous
Saturday but I had to take the commentator's word for it. As time ran out and we searched
for an equaliser I found myself screaming at the radio and willing the team on. I had
stopped worrying about my car and how the hell I was going to get home and was only
worried about grasping a 5th Round tie against Derby.
If the AA are Manchester United then the RAC are
Carlisle United. As the referee blew the final whistle we were still awaiting the RAC. The
supporters began to disperse and soon disappeared leaving my friends and I cold, hungry
and depressed. I had crashed, we had missed the game and to top it all Wrexham had lost. I
saw the same familiar faces who now carried empty Wrexham Lager cans and despondent looks.
As the RAC van finally turned the corner I couldn't help thinking how much I had missed my
cold pie, warm beer and cheap plastic seat. "