Stansted 2 Hullbridge Sports 0

17aug07
FA Cup Extra Preliminary Round
Hargrave Park, Stansted
att. 120

If you wish to show your support for Stansted sk8 park, you can now buy a limited edition wristband. It’s good to be in the know. I wouldn’t usually expect to be able to delve into the skate culture in a new town from the parish notice board but here, outside the fetching St. John’s church, is the campaign poster. That appears to be Stansted in sum. A pretty village, the kind that might come fourth in a Britain in Bloom contest and still be delighted, but also with a toughened edge. Outside its small pubs, there are tattoos and voices projected at unnecessary volume, while further along a crowd of boys amble around the alcove of the Post Office, contemplating yet another scratchcard.

Walking up Cambridge Road to the ground, the quaintness barometer goes on a rapid swing. Opposite the entrance to the football club is a series of small houses, one painted Penelope Pitstop pink while the next stands a touch gruffer and more masculine with 1888 embedded proudly into the brickwork. The charm extends to Stansted’s ground, where the stand-alone boardroom appears to be three parts Wendy House, while the spectator seating runs shallow, further along the touchline.

However, they can only stretch to one nice side, as the others are shoehorned in with a variety of fencing from building-site-security to paparazzi-barrier to festival-latrine/Anderson shelter. The reason for the fencing can be explained by the unkempt bush of vegetation at the far end, the clubhouse squarely behind the goal; and the cricket pitch on the far-side. The overlap between the two fields of dreams means that while the home dugout is a permanent structure, the weather-beaten tinny away facility has to be wheeled into place as and when, possibly by an ageing, fly-orbited mule.

A tiny potting shed acts as turnstile, with an elderly gent meeting, greeting and secreting away the entry fivers. Our operative is turned out in what might be described, considering my opening paragraph, as a very Stansted way, his flat-cap, tweed jacket, shirt and tie off-setting a pair of baggy grey tracksuit bottoms. He is clearly excited to be here though, his greetings so cheery that you imagine if he were twenty years younger he’d top off his every welcome with a cheeky leap and a click of the heels.

On a night with a distinct community occasion atmos, our old boy is not the only one excited by the prospect of FA Cup action. One chap, in talking to an old associate says, with a hint of toddlerine wonderment, “I’ve been here forty years, with the cricket club n’all, but I’ve never watched the football before.” The Essex Senior League might not drag out the locals in such number, though I imagine their Vase-winning appearance at Wembley in 1984 might have, but it seems the cup retains its magic at its earliest stages, and they don’t get much earlier than this. Being a Friday evening fixture, most likely due to a clash with the cricket club, this is one of the first six FA Cup fixtures of the season. Indeed, it may be the Friday night option as much as the FA Cup that is bringing them out, one man behind me cheerfully suggests as much, as the man to my left loosens his grip on a drowsy fart.

The road to Wembley can throw up a number of new routes for the sat-nav, but today there remains a familiarity, particularly with Stansted due to make the opposite journey in the Essex Senior eight days later. Both teams may well be viewing the cup as a welcome break from league action. Both have played one game thus far and both lost. That, combined with the knowledge that honours were even in their league encounters last season, make this fixture a difficult one to call, and in keeping with that, the opening exchanges see the sides go toe-to-toe.

It is the home side that start to play the more impressive football though and their reward is an early lead, a far post header getting crossed back into the mix, where a toe-poke shot on the six yard line is pounced upon by the keeper like a pillow dropping onto an epileptic rat. The fizzing ball rebounds out to the Danny Dobson who checks inside a skidding, paper guillotine tackle, and places his shot inside the post. Quarter of an hour later comes an unexpected spark of excitement, as a Hullbridge striker Steve Reeves goes in with studs, earning himself a ready headbutt from his assailee, Bradley Walsh. Both find themselves confined to their dressing rooms for the remaining hour.

Stansted remain on cruise control for the remainder of the half and it takes the appearance some new faces from the Hullbridge bench at half-time to bring back some oomph to their efforts. A swift turn and shot from the 14 on the edge of the box races past the post, smacking into the cage at the base of the mobile-phone mast that finds itself shoehorned between the pitch and the social club. Not long after the Stansted right-back muscles a Hullbridge striker off the ball. The forward flicks out with an ankle tap that causes the Stansted man to growl “do that one more time and I’ll knock your fucking…” tailing off to suggest that instead of aggro the Hullbridge man can expect an unconstructive critique of his bedroom action.



Hullbridge are working hard to get back in the game, no more so than their no. 7 who appears reluctant to go when subbed, yelling “where are you getting anything from apart from me?” at his gaffer across the pitch. With ten minutes to go, Stansted miss a chance to seal it, the nippy and impressive Dobson drawing the keeper to the edge of the area. The gloveman’s lunge isn’t quite there and the pass makes it into the box leaving Sam McCarthy with an open goal, but with a defender making a good pressurising run, he spoons a side-foot over the bar. Hullbridge then race straight back up the other end and almost get a shock equaliser, but for an alert tip-over from keeper Matt Cope.

Danny Dobson is, to no-one’s surprise, the architect of Stansted’s game-killing second, running the right-back ragged, speeding to the touchline and threading a pass to Danny Dow to power the ball in. Almost the entire team, led by the scorer, barrel into a group of vocal beer boys on the side for a bundling group hug, which gives rise to a “Stansted we love you” chant, and a yellow card for the scorer.

I doubt he’ll care.

Road to Wembley
F: Portsmouth 1 Cardiff City 0 (att. 89,874)
SF: Barnsley 0 Cardiff City 1 (att. 82,752)
QF: Barnsley 1 Chelsea 0 (att. 22,410)
5R: Liverpool 1 Barnsley 2 (att. 42,449)
4R: Southend 0 Barnsley 1 (att. 7,212)
3R: Southend 5 Dagenham & Redbridge 2 (att. 6,393)
2R: Dagenham & Redbridge 3 Kidderminster Harriers 1 (att. 1,493)
1R: Ware 0 Kidderminster Harriers 2 (att. 2,123)
4QR: Ware 3 Tonbridge Angels 1 (att. 816)
3QR: Stotfold 0 Tonbridge Angels 5 (att. 343)
2QRr: Stotfold 2 Chesham United 1 (att. 165)
2QR: Chesham United 1 Stotfold 1 (att. 239)
1QR: Stotfold 4 Stansted 2 (att. 118)
PR: Stansted 4 St. Margaretsbury 1 (att. 145)
EPR: Stansted 2 Hullbridge Sports 0

the Hobo off-Road 2007/08
click here for links to all 2007/2008 FA Cup pieces

Links
Stansted website
Hullbridge Sports website

Havant & Waterlooville 0 Braintree Town 0

11aug07
Conference South
West Leigh Park, Havant
att. 513

I do wonder if sometimes I'm a little too romantic when scribbling about the H&'Dub., everything getting tinted with rose at the peaks, as black as burnt toast in the troughs. That said, I would suggest, keen as I am to blow my own French horn, that two of my better pieces of atmospheric writing thus far on this site concerned our FA Cup first round tie with Millwall last November and the play-off semi-final second leg last May. However there is a common denominator there that troubles me. What connects these games is the end result. This season, god willing, I’ll be able to sketch out for you something other than gallant defeat.

That Braintree should appear in that brief list in terms of a result that scooped out my innards and threw my fresh entrails back in my face like sand from a bully’s foot is, in some respects, a bit of an anomaly. Often after a match, you might weigh up the relative positives by suggesting you’d have a taken a draw before the start, but when it comes to the Hawks and the Irons, the post-match dissection can quite easily be brought forward to become part of your pre-match ritual along with a pint and a pie. Y’see, when it comes to these two sides, a low- or no-scoring draw comes as a certainty so solidly cast-iron, you could anchor a trawler with it. So much so, I’m surprised fans of either side bother to turn up anymore, and that’s not even taking into consideration the bristling animosity that developed last season. Believe me, after you read the next paragraph you’ll understand that Dennis Strudwick, who compiles the Conference fixture lists using pen and paper rather than a computer, must have a seriously perverted wit considering he pulled this one out of his freshly sharpened graphite as a seasonal icebreaker.

So, yes, the corresponding fixture to this last season: Well, firstly, four people were sent off or to the stands (including both managers), which in turn led to a series of incidents that included the away dressing room at West Leigh Park getting smashed up like a cock-rocker’s hotel suite; a spirited rally of claims and counter-claims of alleged responsibility for said damage; then, eventually, complete exoneration for Havant & Waterlooville and a two month ban (an extra four months suspended) from involvement with football for Braintree’s famously volatile gaffer, George Borg. On their website, there remains no mention of this ban, nor any apology for the scandalous bad-mouthing of our club that was filtered throughout the league by way of a smokescreen. Yet, they went on to win that play-off penalty shoot-out between us. Mmm. If karma does exist, it takes its fackin’ sweet time to kick in.

Anyway, with that off my chest, all I could hope for prior to kick-off was that, maybe, things might run a bit smoother this season. That thought was dashed pretty much straight away as news came through that Braintree had been held up in the heavy traffic build-up at Hindhead. Eventually they rolled up at 3:20, Borg barrelling through the gate and straight down to the changing-rooms, looking as unperturbed as a pot-smokin’ dolphin at being squarely in the middle of his eight-week ban. His team looked similarly nonchalant, seemingly ignoring the per-minute fine accumulated by late away sides as they ambled about the pitch still in their travelling gear like a parade of ball-scratchers at an office block fire-alarm car park loiter.

Only some Armani whistles of questionable hue away from being a Cup Final walkabout it may have been but, still, our programme editor was relatively pleased about it, being that they were combining their leisurely stroll with a read of his first tome of the season. A fine choice of reading matter indeed, but they could only have taken the piss more if they’d rolled out with a Harry Potter hardback and an iPod Shuffle jammed into their lugs.

Eventually, after they deigned to do some proper warming up, we got going at quarter-to-four, and just like all the times before it was largely a tale of two well-drilled defensive units, but then we always knew it would be this way. It’s like watching the EastEnders repeat on BBC3 having already watched it a couple of hours before on One - ultimately unfulfilling, and now far too familiar. That said, you’re also guaranteed a spark of needless aggro with the ‘Enders n’all, and so it is with these fixtures. Robbie Martin crashed into Justin Gregory midway through the second half, getting a big chunk of a fist panini by way of reward, which led to a 21-man dust-up on the touchlines (our keeper Kevin Scriven seemingly the only cool-head on a dog-hot ol’ day, his counterpart Nicky Morgan covering a fair number of yards to get some action) and red cards for the original miscreant pair*.

At least ol’ George couldn’t get himself involved in this one, being that he was making some concessions to his censure, remaining in the stand throughout the game and during the break. Word from the stand has it that the Braintree side received a half-time team-talk through a speakerphone, but I say tish to these scurrilous rumours. They might easily have been taking a good luck call from the new incumbent Prime Minister, or maybe the 2007 Miss Braintree, for all we knows. I am also prepared to defend the right of Mr. Borg to gossip on his mobile to his mates during a game, and for Braintree’s first team coach to do, coincidentally, the very same thing whilst in his technical area.

Cynical types might suggest that they were indeed talking to each other but even if so, couldn't it be that they were merely gassin' like teenagers on a street corner? After all, even if you had been passing, could you honestly swear, if pressed, that you heard "tell Billy he’s giving them too much fackin’ width" rather than "What do you mean you're not on Facebook yet, you loser? Tammy Harding's on there, and she's hot for you man, I'm telling you"?


*Justin Gregory’s sponsors would not like to distance themselves from his actions as they do not feel they have been, in any way, brought into disrepute.

They never had any repute to begin with.

Links
Havant & Waterlooville website
Braintree Town website

Cammell Laird 0 The New Saints 2

28jul07
Pre-season friendly
Kirklands, Rock Ferry
att. 80 (approx.)

Hobo in my pocket #8

Previously, on Dub Steps:
Cammell Laird 0 Nantwich Town 1 (01apr06)

Edgware Town 1 Wealdstone 1

24jul07
Pre-season friendly
White Lion Ground, Edgware
att. 100 (approx.)

Since their formation at the start of World War II by construction and engineering workers under the employ of the Cricklewood based William Moss & Sons, Edgware have lived out a dignified existence, without much in the way of cloud-skimming highs or tunnelling lows, around the middle rungs of the non-league here at the White Lion Ground, formerly home to the town’s rugby club.

For a week or so in July, however, it looked as though their proud history would gather no further chapters as a statement was issued by the club’s board:

“With the recent purchase of the ground by Barratt Homes and the grant of planning permission by Harrow Council our main sponsor and benefactor has decided to withdraw their support with immediate effect, putting our lease of the White Lion Ground in jeopardy.

We must vacate the ground by the end of the year (December 2007) and with no alternative ground or ground sharing agreement available we will be unable to compete in the league and cup competitions this season.”

Considering that in 1984 the original wooden stand was a victim of fire, and that the White Lion public house itself was pulled down ten years ago to make way for a hotel, longer term fans may have felt another rapid burst of dramatic corrosion was due. The gaunt eulogies appearing on Internet fora however made it all too clear that a complete implosion was a fanciful worst case scenario playing out like an aging tree slumping on top of a bountiful greenhouse.

However, within a few days, the tear-moistened keyboards were soon being tapped at with a more euphoric zeal, as a combination of two noble acts of altruism allowed for a tearing up of their institutional suicide note. Firstly Harrow Borough offered the use of their Earlsmead ground, while the Edgware players also agreed to play for nothing for the entire season. Some still fear for the club’s long term survival, particularly in terms of attracting crowds as they will, after all, be playing six and a half miles away from their viable catchment area. Outside of London this might not seem that far, but with plenty of other Saturday options available, to lose the identity of being the town club situated, literally, on the High Street, is significant. Further concerns might be what happens when this team inevitably starts to break up, and how they will make any money without a social facility of their own.

Yet, at the heart of it, there still remains a fighting club with more than a merely traceable heartbeat; a club that can now make the most of the fruits of last season’s promotion from the Spartan South Midlands league to the Isthmian Division One (North). They will certainly look to teams like Wealdstone to see what’s possible, their opponents tonight having lived as nomads now for sixteen years. Indeed, Edgware’s history seems remarkably entwined with that of Wealdstone, not least because for ten of the latter’s sixteen years on the road, they were tenants at the White Lion Ground (after having briefly shared with Watford then Yeading, and before the move to their current base-camp at Northwood.)

On top of the groundshare, both can also claim to have had old-boys in the 1990 England World Cup squad - Stuart Pearce starting out at Wealdstone (as did Vinny Jones); Edgware being the launch-pad for Dave Beasant’s career, a career which sadly pre-dated the invention of squeezy salad cream – while probably the two most significant matches in Edgware’s history came against the Stones. The White Lion’s record attendance (8500 approx.) came in 1947 in an FA Cup game between the two sides, and when the tie was drawn again two years later in the Third Qualifying Round, the game was shown live on the BBC.

A copy of that week’s Radio Times is printed in today’s programme. Ordinarily they might not bother, or at least put so much effort in, for a friendly, but with it being their former tenants turning out for one of six farewell shows at the White Lion, a pristine souvenir mag is put together for the evening. Friendlies remain friendlies though, i.e. not the biggest draw and, indeed, the attendance is at least half of what Edgware might have appreciated considering the close relationship between the clubs. Whoever has set up the cardboard boxes and sleeping bag along the far-side terrace also appears to have stepped out for the evening, possibly through the gaping, defunct turnstile just along from his palatial stack. Despite the areas of decay such as this and the two additional but redundant dugouts on the near-side, the White Lion is a handsome ground, one of the best of its type, and its imminent demolition will be a sad loss, and not exclusively for ‘Wares fans.

The game is typically reasonable pre-season fluff, both sides showing the laboured cut-and-thrust of a disillusioned tree surgeon a week from early retirement. The home side take the lead twenty-five minutes in, Junior Lewis going in hard on trialling keeper Dan Carr and heading firmly in. However a number of half-time substitutions disrupt Edgware’s unity, and Wealdstone manage to equalise ten minutes into the second period, a cross coming in from Chris Moore, headed back over keeper Rob Blackburne by Fergus Moore, the ball just crossing the line before Dean Papali makes sure of it, attempting to blow the roof off the net with a vicious welt.

Edgware’s supporters are probably the more satisfied come the end of the game, but I guess it would be a little disrespectful for them to criticise their wage-less players too severely, especially at this stage. The home support can instead turn their ire onto local government, their hardcore of three amusing the subs in front of them with chants of “…and we hate Harrow couuuuuncil” and “You can stick your Barratt Homes up yer arse. SIDEWAYS!”

You imagine these three and a number of others will make the journey to Harrow every other week, but where the next generation of Edgware fans will come from will be of concern. Yet they may glance at Wealdstone and notice their comparatively sizeable and committed support, despite their protracted homelessness. That said, this should soon come to an end with a move to a new 5,000 seat facility which, to come to fruition, has been part financed by Barnet FC, as an adjoining smaller ground will house their youth and ladies sides.

So, clearly, money remains tight for the Stones, and their supporters are already predicting an onerous battle against the drop. So, while Edgware can take strength from Wealdstone’s continued existence at level three of the semi-pro leagues, they might also accept the warning that without their own land to exploit, life from now on may always be about fending off the dip into a downward spiral.

Links
Edgware Town website
Wealdstone website
Edgware view @ The Edge of Town blog