I should really have been at the Boro watching our fourth win from the first four league games, but I had to drive down to Portland in Dorset to pick up a couple of antique fires. It’s a seven-hundred-and-fifty-mile round trip which, despite being within the tank range of my diesel Passat, is too far for me to want to drive in a day.
I chose to stay overnight in Weymouth, which is a classic seaside town. I didn’t arrive until close to 8pm but still had time for a stroll along the seafront and some fish and chips.
Part of the reason for my late arrival was that I broke my journey at Crewe to tick off another of the ninety-two grounds in the English top four divisions.
As I approached the Mornflake Stadium I passed the Crewe Arms hotel which presumably is the temporary home of some refugees. There was a small group of protesters with Union Jacks and St George flags, soliciting honks from passing cars. If their protest was against the use of hotels then it would have been better directed at the actions of the previous Tory governments that as a matter of policy allowed to backlog of asylum cases to rise to the extent that the regular housing was no longer sufficient. If the protest was against those seeking asylum, foreigners in general or simply people with a different coloured skin, then they should fuck right off.
Pleasingly, a larger group stood alongside them holding Refugees Welcome placards. Three police officers were whiling away their day keeping the peace at what seemed to be a non-violent protest from both sides. Perhaps the opposing attendees knew each other. Maybe they had even shared cars to get there.
I’d bought a ticket online for the main stand, which dwarfs the other three. The away fans were opposite and there were some vocal Crewe fans in the stand to my right. My seat was next to a wall for the access steps and whilst it didn’t really impact my view, there was a small kid in the seat in front of me who wasn’t tall enough to see more than a third of the pitch.
I had a meat and potato pie before the game which tasted as if it had been held over from last season and at half-time bought a Bakewell tart from a stall at the back of the concourse. That went down much easier.
It was a pleasant surprise to see Conor Ripley turning out for Swindon. It’s fifteen seasons since he made his Boro debut as a teenager and it’s good to see that he has now clocked up more than three hundred senior appearances. I last saw him playing for Morecambe against the Boro in a pre-season friendly where he reacted with a bit more humour than I might have done to some stick from the fans of his former team.
He did well, making some decent saves and, as a senior member of his team, frequently popping over to the dugout to offer advice to the coaches.
Neither side look good, but Crewe were the worst of the two and went in at the break three-nil behind. Swindon eased off in the second half but still controlled the game. There were no more goals and the visitors took the points.
Tags: Bakewell tart, Conor Ripley, Refugees welcome, The 92
Trail of the Lion King 
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