This was another game that needed a brisk walk to make kick-off. Harry had been at his final rugby training of the season and with them not finishing until well after seven we had to get a move on. One of his teammates laughed at the idea that he was going to watch us play Cardiff, presumably that lad only considers the games against the likes of Spurs or Chelsea worth turning up to.
For most of the walk to the ground we were the only people around. It wasn’t until the Riverside was in sight that we caught up with the other stragglers. We arrived just as the Cardiff players were taking the knee and then sat down at exactly the time the ref blew his whistle to get things underway.
The atmosphere seemed a little on the flat side. Understandable, I suppose, considering the way that we’ve dropped to the edges of the play-off race. We started slowly but once Tav had knocked home the opener there wasn’t really much doubt about us taking the points. A second goal from McGree made sure.
I’d have been happier if we could have added another to peg back the goal difference with Sheff Utd, but there are a couple of further opportunities to do that and if, a big if, we can win our final two games then I think that there’s a chance that we can overtake them for that sixth spot.
The Northern League season is drawing to an end and with Bedlington Terriers having a home fixture I thought that I’d head up to Dr. Pit Welfare Park to watch them take on Chester-le-Street Town in a second division fixture.
I parked on the street just around the corner and gave my fiver to the fella on the turnstile. He came straight out to see me, or rather to see Henry, my daughter’s beagle. He told me that he used to have Westies, but they were just too expensive these days and his current dog was a cross between a Jack Russell and a Lakeland Terrier. If I lived in Bedlington and supported Bedlington Terriers, then I’d feel it almost compulsory to have the breed of dog associated with the town.
As we were talking the team in yellow and blue opened the scoring. The dog bloke was not happy and told me that they were the visitors. Bedlington were the team in red and whilst they were fourth from bottom at kick-off, were in serious danger of dropping into the bottom three and out of the Northern League. He felt that a win today was vital to their hopes of survival.
There were different covered stands along one side and a massive scoreboard that wasn’t used. There were plenty of dandelions alongside the grass pitch. I took a few for Mr Rose who I was also looking after for the weekend. He’s my granddaughter’s rabbit who was previously known as Rose until the vet informed them that they had been wrongly advised of his gender. Frequent dead-naming doesn’t seem to bother him and he loves dandelions.
Bedlington’s relegation worries got worse on the half-hour when their keeper dawdled on the ball and had it took off him and knocked into an empty net. The scorer celebrated by booting the ball on to the clubhouse roof and received a yellow for his lack of manners. It infuriated a few of the crowd who presumably supporting the visitors. They got even more pissed off when the lino told them that he’d have done the same. They soon cheered up when a third goal was added from a free-kick a minute later.
I’d made a mistake sitting in the stand nearest to the food hut as every time someone passed with a burger, Henry gave them his full attention until it had been eaten. Bedlington got more into the game as we approached half-time but couldn’t take any of their chances and went in at the break three down.
The ref continued to get some stick in the second half, on one occasion when the choice seemed to be between a penalty and a goal-kick he appeared to compromise with a corner. That decision left nobody happy and resulted in both sides berating him.
Chester-le Street added a couple more in the final quarter of an hour before Terriers notched a consolation at the end. I missed that one as Henry had slipped his lead and ran into the food cabin. He had his eye on a big bowl of chips but fortunately the lady in there managed to head him off. Other results didn’t go the way of Bedlington and they dropped into the bottom three making relegation a real possibility.
It’s the time of the year for cup finals with this one being for the Durham County FA Frank Pattison Challenge Cup. It was at the Hetton Centre which is also known as Eppleton Colliery Welfare. It’s a ground used by Sunderland’s U23 and Women’s teams. Cars were already turning around due to lack of space when I arrived, but I got lucky as someone who must have been there for something other than the football vacated his prime parking spot and saved me having to drive back out again.
With a few minutes to kick-off there was a queue to get into the ground. I paid my fiver and was given a free programme.
I passed the trophy on the way in and took a seat in the main stand. There were a few rows of seats with a standing section behind. The Crook fans seemed to have taken over that area and sang throughout the game including a few renditions of the ‘Nicky Bailey’ song.
Most of the crowd, which eventually reached 620, were stood around the perimeter pitch fence with others getting a better view from on top of embankments and mud piles. Crook were in amber and black with Ryhope in red and white.
Crook took the lead on eighteen minutes with a volley from the edge of the box, but didn’t hold the advantage for long with Ryhope equalising on the half hour when the ball was hooked home after a corner.
At half time I went for some food but the slow-moving queue of people waiting for chips meant that I bailed out and watched the second half from behind that goal until the length of the queue had sufficiently dropped for me to nip in for a pie.
Ryhope probably had the best chances in the second half but neither side did enough to win it and with the score level at full-time we went straight to pens. I’d anticipated the end that would be used and so was already in a prime spot when the whistle went. I was joined by a few others, most of whom were supporting Crook.
I had a brief chat with a young kid next to me. He told me that he supported Newcastle, as well as Crook and marvelled at the turnaround under Eddie Howe. He then turned his attention to the Ryhope goalie and before each kick informed him that he was a ‘paedo’. Charming. I doubt the lad was any older than twelve.
The Ryhope keeper had the last laugh though, saving a couple of the penalties to clinch the cup. A fella on the other side of me, sensing defeat, had declared that he was going onto the pitch anyway. He did so, raising a flare to the heavens and dropping his trousers to his thighs in what I took to be a gesture of dissatisfaction with the result.
I made my way back to the main stand for the presentation. By this time most of the Crook fans had left the standing area and so I was able to get an elevated view of Ryhope lifting the cup.
I suppose the only good thing about the Boro’s game against Huddersfield was that it was a lunchtime kick-off and that meant that I could head to a second Bank Holiday Monday fixture.
I had a couple of options, both in the Northern Alliance, and picked the nearest one which was at Gateshead Rutherford’s Farnacres ground. Rutherford were taking on league leaders Killingworth in the eleventh tier Premier Division.
Farnacres is just off the A1, before the Metro Centre. It’s up a country lane with parking outside of a fence where if you chose, you could watch the game from your car. It was a pleasant evening though and so I headed inside. I don’t think that there was anyone taking money, at least there wasn’t at the gate I used. Hopefully I hadn’t cheated them out of a couple of quid.
Rutherford were in a red and black kit with Killingworth in grey. A win for the visitors would be enough to clinch the title and of the eighty or so spectators who were lined up at the top of the embankment I’d estimate that around half were supporting the champions elect.
In addition to the people watching there were also a few dogs in attendance. I was stood near to an elderly beagle who had that faded appearance that comes with age. At half time when I went into the clubhouse for a chip butty, his eyes didn’t leave me until the empty polystyrene tray had been deposited in the bin.
There were also a few greyhounds, a couple of shih tzus, a spaniel and two French bulldogs. In fact, I missed the final goal of the evening as I was scratching one of the bulldogs on the head.
Rutherford had nothing to play for in this end of season game. Perhaps that explained why they only had the one sub available compared to Killingworth’s full bench. I was pleased to see the lad get on, even if only for the last ten minutes. It would have been soul-destroying to have been the only option for a change and still not receive the nod.
For a team with nothing at stake, Rutherford certainly put the effort in. They took an early lead and when pegged back in the second half soon got back in front. They conceded a second equaliser before nicking the winner with fifteen minutes to go. By that time, it was getting dark and I doubt that anyone was hoping for much added time. The defeat for Killingworth meant that their title celebrations would have to wait another week.
I’d got back home from Bournemouth after midnight on the Friday night and with plans to take in a non-league game on the Saturday. The fixture I’d selected at Murton didn’t take place for some reason though and I had to head back down the A19. The rest of that day was filled with Stockton Calling, a music festival spread over eleven venues and with eight bands. I saw thirteen of the bands in eight different locations. All of them were good, although with some of them I only caught three or four songs as I nipped in somewhere midway through a set.
Most bands played for thirty minutes which is pretty much perfect for a festival and despite it not selling out for the first time in ages, there was a great atmosphere from people glad to be out and about again seeing gigs.
Sunday was a music day too as I headed up to see Paul Weller at Newcastle City Hall. Whilst I’ve seen him many times over the years my mind went back to being at the same venue for a Jam gig forty years ago to the month. On that occasion I’d watched the Boro win at Roker Park in the afternoon and then took a train into Newcastle to round off one of the best days that I’d ever had at that time.
Forty years on from 1982, Weller still put on an excellent show. I think that Fat Pop is his best album for years and, as with the bands the previous day, he really seemed to be enjoying himself too. I doubt I’ll be seeing him forty years from now but hopefully there will be further opportunities. It’s certainly much more likely that I’ll see him than the Boro playing Sunderland.
Back to the Huddersfield game. Harry and I cut it fine again as I hadn’t realised that I’d have to pay to park on a Bank Holiday. The machines don’t take money any more and so I had to download an App and pay remotely. Pain in the arse, but we arrived as the teams were lining up.
It was another poor performance to follow on from the home defeats to Fulham and Hull. A late McGree effort that hit the bar was as close as we came to scoring. The optimism from earlier in the season has just about evaporated and it’s difficult to see where the next win will come from, never mind the four from four that will likely be needed for a play-off spot.
At the start of this season, I still had four Championship grounds to tick off. Everything had gone to plan so far and prior to this game Bournemouth’s Vitality Stadium was the only one remaining. I didn’t really fancy heading there and back in a day trip, particularly with Bank Holiday traffic and so I went down to London a couple of days in advance and then got a train from Waterloo on the morning of the game.
As there is always stuff to do in London I’d gone along to a Sea Power gig at the Roundhouse the night before. They were as good as they always are and back up to full strength with Phil being available due to it being a school holiday and Abi having found someone to look after the sheep.
The train journey took just under two hours and passed through Southampton and Brockenhurst, both places that I’m familiar with from working down there thirteen or fourteen years ago. I passed sections of the New Forest that I’d walked in, pubs that I’d drank in and the seven a side pitches that I played on after work.
There were plenty of Boro fans on the train, but on leaving from the station most of them headed into town whilst I followed the signs for Boscombe Beach.
I walked for a few hundred yards parallel to the sea and then went for a stroll along the pier. Strolling seems compulsory on a pier. There was a bloke fishing off the end but I couldn’t see if he had managed to catch anything. There were a few holes of crazy golf with a sign warning that lost balls would be charged at a quid-fifty a go. It’s hard to imagine anyone playing a round without hitting a ball off the edge into the water.
After some lunch and a pint overlooking the sea, I headed for the ground. It took around half an hour. There was a drinking area outside but for home supporters only. That seemed a bit inhospitable, do they think that we are incapable of having a drink without being an arse?
With nothing worth hanging around outside for I headed in and after being extremely thoroughly searched I was able to watch the back end of the Luton – Forest game in the concourse.
For some reason I’d assumed the Vitality Stadium was a new ground, but it seems that it’s just a new name. Dean Court was rebuilt apparently twenty years or so ago with a ninety degree rotation but I think some of the stand to my left had been kept. It looked that way anyway, surely nobody would build a stand in the twenty-first century that still had columns obscuring the view.
It was good to see Jones back on the pitch, but he seemed off the pace and with a much less sure touch than normal. Perhaps his illness was still affecting him. Bamba had a good game again filling in for Fry. He didn’t ever move quickly but rarely had to as his positioning was spot on and that invariably gave him the time to do whatever was needed. Daniels returned in goal and put in a solid performance, but we never looked like scoring.
Still, an away point at a promotion contender is a decent result and with all the Championship grounds now ticked off it made for a decent day out.
Trail of the Lion King 