Archive for the ‘Football’ Category

Casuarina v Litchfield, Saturday 9th April 2016, 12.30pm

July 7, 2016

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All of the Darwin area local football leagues start up again in April and this game was the first in the Women’s League.

Despite the lunchtime start, Jen and I had plenty of time to pay a visit to the Crocodylus Park on the outskirts of Darwin, which as you might have suspected, is a park full of crocodiles. If you’ve ever been to Gatorland in Florida, it’s a bit like that, although you couldn’t feed the inmates with raw sausages at Crocodylus in the way that you can at its American counterpart. Possibly because sausages, or ‘snags’ as they call them over here are too highly regarded in Australia to be lobbed at reptiles.

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We did watch a keeper feeding the crocs and we got to hold a small one with its mouth taped up, so it was a worthwhile morning. They had other stuff too, a few lions, some dingoes and a colony of meerkats. I could watch meerkats all day.

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We had to pay ten dollars to watch the women’s match which is probably the first time that either of the teams had played in a game with an admission charge. It was because the game was taking place on the Larrakia pitch nr 2, which shared an entrance gate with the main pitch and which was hosting the final game in the East Timor Cup later that day.

One team was in red and the other in black and white squares. I should really have asked someone which team was which, but to be honest, I wasn’t interested. The black and white team were the stronger and in the first twenty minutes or so the ball was rarely in their half.

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I counted eleven spectators, including a bloke who was videoing proceedings and so I suspect had some sort of connection to one of the teams. If not, he was a sucker for punishment as it was bad enough having to watch the game live, never mind the thought of watching it all again at home.

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The Number 2 pitch backed onto the main stadium and whilst you could have watched the game from the rear of the big stand facing the other way, a small ‘bus shelter’ stand was provided. It probably held fifty, which was more than ample for today’s attendance.

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The red keeper made a couple of decent saves before the black and whites went a goal up. I’d had enough before we even got to half-time as the standard was probably poorer than any game I’ve ever seen.

No shame in that though and it’s good to see people enjoying themselves. For half an hour so at least anyway.

Dili Benfica v Kupang, Friday 8th April 2016, 7.30pm

July 6, 2016

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After six months without any local football, it was all starting to take off. The Timor Sea Cup is an annual U17 event between teams from countries that I imagine have some sort of connection to the Timor Sea. A bit vague, I know, but do you really care? It’s a football match and it was taking place at the nearby Larakia Stadium.

Kick-off wasn’t until the evening and so Jen and I decided to spend the day at the Territory Wildlife Park.

It’s called a wildlife park but I suppose it’s really a zoo, although quite a good one, with decent paths between the enclosures and some areas, like the bird place, where you can walk through with it seeming big enough for not for them to appear unduly restricted.

As with everywhere in Australia there were plenty of spiders and we spotted these two dangling over water that had crocodiles in it. I imagine crocodiles were the least of the smaller spider’s worries.

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We did one of those behind the scenes tours and got lucky by being the only two people there. I got to handle a lizard thing with a blue tongue. It didn’t seem too bothered about me, but I was a little worried that I might drop it and bring the tour, and possibly the lizard, to a premature end. My sister dropped a tortoise when she was a kid and cracked it in half. Even the newly invented superglue wasn’t able to save it.

We were able to go into one of the enclosures in the nocturnal house where we hand fed an owl with minced mice and then gave syringes of sugar solution to some little chipmunk type creatures. At times we had two of them feeding simultaneously whilst a third sat waiting.

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As it grew dark we drove over to the Larakia Stadium for the second fixture in the Timor Sea Cup. The previous night the ground had hosted the opening fixture in the three team round robin, a one-sided 10-0 victory by a Northern Territory select over Dili Benfica of East Timor.

With Dili making a re-appearance that evening against Indonesian side Kupang I wasn’t sure whether I wanted a more even contest than the previous night or whether I fancied watching through my fingers as Dili took an even bigger hammering.

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The early impressions suggested that Kupang might emulate the Northern Territory scoreline. They had more time on the ball, pressed the opposition better and their players looked a lot more physically developed than the East Timor team.

Kupang failed to make their advantage count though and it was still goalless at half-time. I looked around the crowd and got the impression that, with the exception of the fella to our right who moaned non-stop about the price all evening, Jen and I were probably the only ones who had paid the necessary ten dollars to get in. Everyone else appeared to be either a player, an official or accompanying one.

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The second half had more going on with Dili scoring against the run of play not long after the re-start. Unfortunately the East Timor keeper let one through his legs soon after and Kupang quickly followed their equaliser with another couple of goals.

It looked like Kupang might run away with the game at that stage, but Dili pulled one back to set up an interesting final few minutes.

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Dili had a glorious chance to take a point in the dying seconds but a tame shot went straight to the keeper and that was that.

A five-nil win for Northern Territory over Kupang the following evening gave the Australian team the trophy, with Kupang taking second place and Benfica Dili finishing third and last.

Football Without Borders v Congolese Community FC, Saturday 2nd April 2016, 3pm

July 6, 2016

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Six months after arriving in Darwin, the local football season was finally about to start and with the pitches freshly mown and the nets up a local charity or two took the opportunity to hold a fund-raising game at the Gray Football Stadium in Palmerston.

The game fell in a busy weekend. We’d been to the baseball the previous night and spent the following day at the Litchfield National Park. Litchfield is definitely worth a visit if you are in the Darwin area. It’s about an hour’s drive and there are three or four decent waterfalls that have walking trails up to and around them.

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One of the waterfalls had a trail that didn’t appear to be as well used as the others and so even on a busy Sunday it was possible to wander around as if we had the park to ourselves.

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We didn’t see much in the way of wildlife. The highlight was probably a six-inch long lizard of some sort. I’m rubbish at lizard identification, maybe it’s a gecko. Who knows? Not me, I’m sorry to say.

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We also saw plenty of spiders and fortunately for identification purposes there were numerous boards dotted around to give me some assistance. The one in the photo is a female Golden Orb spider.

We saw a few females, often with half a dozen much smaller males sharing the same web. Apparently the fellas were just biding their time and waiting for a chance to get one or more of their legs over, after which they were likely to end up as a post-coital snack. I’m sure we’ve all been in relationships like that at one time or another.

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The game at Gray Stadium was quite well attended with probably a hundred or so people turning out to raise awareness and hopefully some funds to be shared between the refugee and asylum seeker charity Football Without Borders and for community facilities for immigrants from Congo.

I only tend to listen to Australian radio if a taxi driver has it on and recently heard a phone-in where just about everyone was complaining that the country ‘was full’ and that immigration should be halted. Talk about pulling up the drawbridge. Back in the real world though, it was heartening to see the people of Darwin doing their bit for immigrants, refugees and asylum seekers.

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Football-wise, the standard was mixed. The Congo select had a decent defender at the back who swept up most of the Football Without Borders attacking moves. Elsewhere, there was a mix of triers and a few blokes who looked like they might have played regularly for teams in the past.

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The catering was good though and I had a chicken curry that went down well. I don’t recall seeing any beer for sale, but it was more of a family-style occasion with bouncy castles and the like for the kids. I was driving anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

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There were a few goals, but I wasn’t counting. If I recall correctly most of them were at the Football Without Borders end. I doubt that the refugees and asylum seekers in their team were too bothered. When your life takes that sort of turn then I imagine you develop a decent sense of perspective.

 

Home United v Young Lions, Thursday 17th March 2016, 7.30pm

July 3, 2016

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Jen and I ate pretty well during our time in Singapore. It would have been hard not to do so with Chinatown on our doorstep and Little India and Arab Street a short distance away. We had dinner with unlimited wine in a French place around the corner and tapas at a Spanish restaurant in a busy street at the back of our hotel that we didn’t stumble across until our last night.

There was also a food court nearby and within a few hours of arriving we’d already been told by two different people that there was one particular stall famous for its chicken-rice. As you might have suspected that’s chicken accompanied by rice. In this case, both boiled. The taxi-driver that took us into town from the airport claimed that he ate there every day.

With that sort of hard sell we had to give it a go. I can’t remember what time the stall opened, but fifteen minutes beforehand there was already a queue and apparently it sells out within a couple of hours. I think I’d be tempted to boil more chicken and rice if I were them, although knocking off two hours after getting to work does sound like an ideal shift.

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Anyway, it was cheap, it was chicken and it was rice. No more than that. I suspect these things take on a life of their own and become self-perpetuating. They even had a photo of Gordon Ramsay eating there. I was tempted to draw a little bubble coming out of his mouth saying “Fucking fuss over fuck all” but I understand they have strict sentences for that sort of thing in Singapore. I didn’t see our taxi-driver having his lunch either.

Whilst the chicken-rice was a bit ‘meh’ I was much more impressed with the eggs that we had for breakfast. There was a café nearby that served uncooked eggs in a jug of just-boiled water. You sat around drinking your coffee for fifteen minutes whilst the eggs cooked in front of you and then you cracked them open and dipped your toast into the yolks.

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Genius. Just enough arseing around to make it perfect for idling time away on your holidays. The café was opposite a temple that claimed to have one of Buddah’s teeth in a box. A Swan Vesta box I hope. It was very popular with the tourists and probably the tooth fairies as well.

As we waited for our eggs to cook we watched busloads of people photographing themselves outside a recently erected temple before going inside to gaze in awe at a box that may or may not have contained dental waste from someone who may or may not have existed.

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I told my Mam about the eggs and she said “You mean coddled?” I’d no idea if I meant coddled or not, but it turned out that I did. Apparently it’s nothing special and everyone did it in the olden days when they weren’t busy having a bath in a bucket in front of a coal fire or treating rickets by wrapping cabbage leaves around their knees.

That’s enough culinary stuff, time for football and the S-League game between Home United and Young Lions.

I took the MRT up to Bishan and then walked for five minutes across to the Bishan Stadium. There were a few fans hanging around outside, draining the last of their bottles of water before they were confiscated at the entrances. What’s the point? It turned out that they didn’t actually sell drinks inside, so it couldn’t be to protect their sales. In a climate where I’m likely to lose a couple of pints of sweat over the course of ninety minutes it would be nice to be able to replace some of it.

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I bought my five dollar ticket and found myself a seat in the two tier main and only stand. There was a running track between the stand and the grass pitch and I had a small group of ‘ultras’ with a drum to my right and near to the half-way line.

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There was a decent crowd when everyone eventually arrived with plenty of families and a few groups of young women, many of them wearing headscarves.

Home United were in red, with Young Lions, who are actually the Singapore U21 national team, in blue. It’s an interesting concept, letting a national development group play in the league. If it happened in England I imagine it would mean more game time for the young players and I’m sure their increased familiarity with each other would improve results in their age-group international games. It might even improve the prospects for the senior national team. I’m not sure what clubs and fans would think about it though. I’m not even sure what I think about it.

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Young Lions should have been in front after thirty seconds but the straightforward chance was lifted over the bar. The miss didn’t prove too costly as ten minutes later the Home Utd keeper came out of his box in an attempt to head the ball away only to collide with one of his defenders and allow a visiting striker to turn the ball into an empty net from twenty-five yards.

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The home side soon hit back when a fella with a top knot finished a cross from the left to equalise and then they took the lead with a left-footed free-kick curled in from the right that eluded everyone including the Young Lions keeper.

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At half time we were all allowed out to use the drinks machine at the nearby leisure centre, on the strict condition that we drank it all before coming back inside. Nobody checked any tickets so unless the stewards have a fantastic memory for faces it’s easy enough to watch second half soccer in Singapore for free.

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Home United increased their lead soon after the break with a strong header back across the keeper and then added a fourth close to the end after a bout of head-tennis in the box.

The grown-ups deserved their victory and the defeat kept Young Lions at the foot of the table and left me none the wiser as to whether playing age-group national teams in a domestic league was beneficial to anyone at all.

Tampines Rovers v Ceres La Salle, Tuesday 15th March 2016, 7.30pm

July 1, 2016

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A week in Singapore works quite well for sightseeing. The Chinatown area was interesting enough with a decent museum that had plenty of olden-day photos. We went to the zoo, which was very good by zoo standards, but when you’ve recently spent a couple of years in Africa it’s hard to get excited by a pair of zebras in a pen.

Down at the harbour we took a boat trip past some of the older quayside areas and had lunch at a roof-top restaurant that gave us a view of most of the Singapore, including the Formula One circuit just below us.

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Whilst all that stuff was very enjoyable, the sightseeing that I really wanted to do involved taking in a local game. The fixtures worked in my favour as there was an AFC cup match between Tampines Rovers and a team from the Philippines, Ceres La Salle, taking place during our visit. The Asian Federation Conference Cup is a bit like the UEFA Cup although it seems that rather than being for the not-quite top teams from the best footballing countries as it is in Europe, it’s for the best teams from the not-quite top footballing countries in Asia.

Jen and I had plenty of time before the 7:30 kick-off and so we took the subway to the Little India area and had our tea there before walking the remaining half hour or so to the Jalan Besar stadium.

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I’d hoped to be following the crowd, but whilst the streets were busy it was with people going about their business rather than heading for the match. In fact we was almost at the ground before I spotted anyone who looked like they might have any interest in football.

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There were separate ticket offices for the home and away fans and as we came across the away office first, that’s what we bought. Six dollars a pop and apparently at the swimming pool end.

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We were directed towards the swimming pool but ended up entering the ground a little too soon and we found ourselves among the home fans in the main stand. There were stands down both sides, with the seventy or so away fans opposite, the swimming pool to our left and a fence behind the goal to our right that didn’t really look suitable for preventing the ball bouncing across a busy road and causing an accident. I wonder how often an irate motorist threatens to “stick a knife in it”.

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Tampines had Jermaine Pennant playing on the right of an attacking midfield three behind a lone striker. Yes, that Jermaine Pennant, he of the electronic tag, the spouse who poses in her smalls and the former owner of the car found at a railway station covered in five month’s worth of parking tickets after he had forgotten that he’d left it there.

The ex-Liverpool player certainly put the effort in, although at times he must have wondered what was going on as the standard of football was, unless he had ever turned out for his prison team, way below anything he would have encountered elsewhere.

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At half time the drinks options were lychee juice or chrysanthemum tea. Wonderful. Don’t they know I’m on my holidays? I’ll never complain about the John Smith’s Smooth at the Boro again, or at least I won’t until I next order a pint of it.

Pennant dropped a lot deeper after the break, possibly hoping to have more of an influence by starting moves off, rather than waiting out wide in the hope of a pass. The change might very well have made a difference as midway through the second half the home side took the lead when the Ceres keeper fumbled the ball and someone was on hand to knock the loose ball in to the net.

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It all looked to be in the bag for Tampines until a couple of minutes from the end when a floaty cross wasn’t cleared and one of the visitors stabbed it home from close range. The point apiece seemed fair and left both sides with a decent chance of qualifying from their four-team group.

 

MK Dons v Middlesbrough, Tuesday 9th February 2016, 7.45pm

June 2, 2016

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The second game of my UK visit was the Boro’s trip to Milton Keynes. I know, Franchise FC and all that. To be honest though, it wasn’t a difficult decision for me as to whether I should go or not. It shouldn’t have been allowed, we all know that, but lots of stuff happens that I don’t agree with and if I boycotted everything that I disapproved of then I’d rarely leave the house.

The actual dilemma facing me on this occasion was whether I should watch the Youth team at home instead. In an infuriating bit of re-arranged scheduling, somehow the Boro had managed to have their first team playing on the same night that the Under 19s were taking on Dinamo Kiev at the Riverside in a Champions League last sixteen game.

Yes, Champions League. Somehow we’d won the Kiddie Premier League the season before and then managed to progress to the last sixteen of the Champions League. If Stadium MK hadn’t been a new ground for me then I suspect I’d have watched Harry Chapman and his mates instead.

It’s a pity it wasn’t a two-legged tie as I’d have liked to seen an away leg. I visited Dinamo’s ground a few years ago when Paul and I called into Kiev to see a McCartney concert on the way back from Euro 2008. It looked a bit run-down at that stage and I understand that they got a nice new one in time for their turn hosting the European Championships four years later.

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The Kiev concert was pretty good, despite the rain early on. Apparently there were 350,000 people there. A bit like the Port Vale game at Hartlepool in ’86 I suppose. The big open-air square was a far cry from the much smaller venues that I’ve seen McCartney play since, although in none of those other places did anyone rent me a rat for the purposes of placing on my head for a photo. It’s all the rage in Ukraine apparently.

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And so to Mk Dons. I drove down with Tom and his mate Jones. I’ve no idea why so many of his friends get called by their surname. You’d think they’d all gone to Eton. Although I doubt that any of them have the foggiest about what fun you can have with a pig’s head.

There were a lot of average speed cameras on the M1. So many that I was regretting not having given my Australian driving licence to Hertz to avoid the points.

Despite the speed restrictions we were still there earlier than I’d expected. So early that the gates weren’t open. I bumped into Kirk and Esky outside the ground. I used to play football with them and whilst I occasionally see Kirk at games I hadn’t spoken to Esky for about ten years.

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Stadium MK was quite impressive, although as we stood in the back row all game, we didn’t benefit from the padded seats. I wasn’t drinking so I can’t comment on the quality of the beer, but the Concrete Cow pie tasted okay.

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I was surprised by how few fans MK Dons had. It seemed as if we’d brought more than were in the rest of the ground. I wondered how worthwhile the whole experiment was. Maybe it takes a few years for the kids who grow up with the team to start filling the ground, although if it’s as sparse as this every week I doubt many kids would ever be too excited by the prospect of going to the match.

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As with the Blackburn game the previous weekend we were poor. Rhodes started on the bench to the disbelief of most people there and going a goal down early on didn’t improve the mood of the fans. I thought Stewy Downing was a bit ‘hollywood’, with too many unnecessary outside of his foot passes. His strength lies in keeping it simple, even if it doesn’t immediately catch the eye.

There was a fair bit of criticism of Karanka as the game went on and I suspect that had Rhodes not scored that injury time equaliser there would have been a lot more disquiet on the way out.

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The drive north was quieter and we were home by two in the morning. The last-gasp point had enabled us to overtake Hull at the top, but it seemed more like another two dropped than one gained.

Middlesbrough v Blackburn Rovers, Saturday 6th February 2016, 3pm

May 29, 2016

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The home game against Blackburn was my first Boro game for a few months and for a change Tom and I sat in the South West corner. Thirty quid for a ticket would usually have struck me as expensive but as I’d been to see Peppa Pig with the grandkids that morning and with that costing fourteen quid for a three year old and sixteen quid for the accompanying adult, thirty quid for football seemed like a bargain.

I reckon adults should get in free to stuff like Peppa Pig, in the way that carers do with wheelchair fans at football. They do three shows a day, no doubt using aspiring Equity members on minimum wage. Somebody, somewhere is raking it in. Daddy Pig probably.  Still, the grandkids enjoyed it.

Earlier in the week Jen and I had done another thirty miles of the Cleveland Way, including the section with the Roseberry Topping detour in it. I’ve no idea how many times I’ve been up there but it’s always good to look down on Teesside from the top.

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Anyway, the game. We had a pint in The Central, but it was a bit crowded and with rain in the air we took a taxi up to the ground to do our pre-match drinking there. I was surprised to see that new signing Jordan Rhodes was only on the bench against his old club, but I suppose at least it meant that he wouldn’t be scoring against us.

We weren’t very good and it was only after Blackburn took the lead twenty minutes from the end that we showed any real intent to try to score. Rhodes came on and put himself about a bit, before Nugent equalised ten minutes from time.

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The draw took us level on points at the top with Hull.  I suppose with Burnley and Brighton still trailing us despite having played more games, it’s a good position to be in.

After the the successive defeats to Bristol City and Forest though, I can’t help feeling that we needed a win to get back on track.

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Tom and I hung about afterwards to watch Final Score before heading into town to catch the back end of the rugby in Dr Browns.

Ross County v Celtic, Sunday 31st January 2016, 3pm

April 2, 2016

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The second Scottish game of our UK trip was a league cup semi-final at Hampden Park. I hadn’t been too confident about getting a ticket, but applied online via Ross County and a couple of weeks later our tickets arrived in Australia. Twenty quid seemed decent value, particularly when compared with the thirteen pounds that I’d paid at the fourth tier game the day before this one.

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We took the train into Glasgow from Stirling and then walked for an hour or so in the direction of Hampden. Parts of Glasgow have been tarted up over recent years, but the area of the Gorbals that we walked through still looked pretty run down to me. I’m sure it will be better when some more of those tower blocks are gone.

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We got talking to a Celtic supporter who unsurprisingly was heading in the same direction. I quizzed him about Mowbray and it turned out that he wasn’t a fan. I suppose he was too young to be influenced by memories of him as a player in the way that I probably am. He rated Strachan though. Odd.

The best bit of the walk was passing the former ground of Third Lanark. The pitch is still there, but the terracing that remains has been overgrown with bushes and trees, with the barriers hidden among the undergrowth. It looks a perfect Sunday League location to me.

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Despite our walk we were still about half an hour early upon arriving at the stadium and after a tray of chips and cheese and a brief look at the Queens Park pitch outside, we went inside to keep out of the rain. Hampden looks very impressive after its renovation and if I’d waited until I’d got inside to eat I could have had a goat cheese tart.

The game was nowhere near sold out which surprised me a bit. I’d have thought that Celtic fans would have paid a lot more than the twenty quid admission for their regular games and I doubt a trip to Hampden was a regular occurrence for Ross County.

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With Ross County being the underdogs, I suppose I would probably have been hoping for them to upset the odds. As we were in their end we had a further reason to get behind them. The clincher though, was that they had not one, but two ex-boro players in their match-day eighteen.

Andrew Davies was captaining the Dingwall side. I remember him as the star of the youth team in the year or two before we won it. He played that night in the Olympic Stadium ten years ago when we qualified for the next round of the UEFA Cup at the expense of Roma. I’ve also got a slightly less clear recollection of him returning for a loan spell with us three or four years ago.

Jonathan Franks went to school with my kids. I remember him coming on a sub at Upton Park in our last game in the Premier League and him looking like a decent prospect for a while in the Championship. He started on the bench in this one.

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Davies wasn’t popular with the fella behind me who referred to him before the start as “a fucking liability” and was further incensed within a minute when a ball between the two County centre halves lead to an opening goal for Celtic.

It could have all turned sour after that but a penalty equaliser following a DOGSO sending off gave Ross County the advantage. Franksy appeared from the bench within the first half hour to replace a fella who looked as if he was making every effort to give the referee the chance to even up the numbers.

He did ok too, finding space on the right and making some good runs.

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The fella behind me was temporarily speechless when Davies headed back across goal for a team mate to put County into the lead, although he was quick to point out “oh, he’s a good header of the ball, just cannae defend”.

A third goal quickly followed for Ross County and Celtic never really looked like getting back into it.

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We didn’t stay for the presentation and the fun. It wasn’t really our place, although I do remember a first visit to Verona and driving around town after the game honking the car horn whilst Tom waved a flag out of the window as we got caught up in them clinching promotion.

Not this time though, Jen and I walked alongside the Celtic fans back to the railway station and were probably back in Stirling before the celebratory Buckfast was finished.

East Stirlingshire v Arbroath, Saturday 30th January 2016, 3pm

March 24, 2016

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If you were thinking that those team names don’t look very Australian then you’d have a fair point. Jen and I had popped back to the UK for a fortnight’s holiday and as the early part of the trip coincided with some Withered Hand gigs in Scotland we flew into Edinburgh and spent our first two nights in Stirling.

The flights had taken an arse-numbing total of thirty-seven hours but were redeemed by the unexpected bonus of flying over Ayres Rock. How good is that? I’d suspected that we might be somewhere near and I’d been eagerly keeping an eye out for it for a good half an hour before I spotted it. It’s just a big rock really, but an impressive big rock, nevertheless.

We also flew over Iran and some spectacular mountain ranges that were well worth seeing. I’m amazed by how few people look out of the windows on planes, I can’t imagine that any of the films would be better than mountain ranges or big rocks.

We landed at Edinburgh around lunchtime and by ten to three I was stood outside of the Forthbank Stadium in anticipation of the League Two clash between Stirling Albion and Montrose. I wasn’t expecting a large crowd for a fourth tier game but nor was I expecting to be the only person there. It took me back to being seven years old and standing at the locked gates of my primary school as a consequence of returning a day too soon after the Christmas holidays.

I’m less trusting these days and so the combination of no fans and locked gates was sufficient to convince me that the match probably wasn’t going to take place.  My suspicions were then confirmed by a bloke that I passed on the way back to the car.

I asked him if he could suggest a nearby alternative and he told me that his team, Stenhousemuir, plays not too far from Stirling but unfortunately were away that weekend. The good news though was that Stenhousemuir share their Ochilview Park stadium these days and if they were away then their tenants, East Stirlingshire, would likely have a home fixture. He told me to head for Falkirk and then turn right at Larbert. I followed his advice and twenty minutes later I’d paid my thirteen quid admission and was sat in the Norway stand for East Stirlingshire’s game with Arbroath.

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Thirteen quid for a standard of football that was unlikely to be up to that of the Northern League struck me as a bit steep. I suppose it’s just as well the Twenty’s Plenty campaign hasn’t reached Fife or it could have been worse.

Perhaps the price explained why the crowd was just over three hundred. Still, I’d seen Ayres Rock for free the day before, so you could say that these things balance themselves out.

I’d missed the opening quarter of an hour and Arbroath were already a goal up. The shouts of “Come on Shirey” already had an air of resignation to them. Bottom of the division Shirey were in black and white hoops whilst Arbroath, who weren’t far ahead of them in the League Two table, wore a maroon kit. The covered Norway stand was the only part of the ground open with the terracing to my left housing nothing but ballboys and piles of snow.

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The standard of play tended to reflect the attendance rather than the price of admission. It was typified by one of the home side’s full backs who had an uncanny knack of finding space, which whilst great when going forward is somewhat less beneficial when trying to defend.

Abroath’s winger, who I think was called Daz, stood out for the visitors. He brightened the day whenever he ran at the opposition with his teammates calling repeatedly, in the style of Alan Partridge, for a pass that rarely came.

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There was light drizzle throughout the remainder of the first half, which was surprising as I’d assumed that the temperature was below freezing. I was happy enough with that though after four months of heat and humidity in Darwin. As half time approached the rain was replaced with a hailstorm that drove me to shelter in the back row of the stand. Hardier souls than me continued to watch from the exposed areas closer to the front.

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I could have done with a warm drink at half-time but I was a little slow off the mark and would have had to queue in the driving hail behind what seemed like most of the other three hundred spectators. I’m starting to see the merits of taking a flask.

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There hadn’t been much excitement on the pitch for the home fans  and so they reserved their cheers for whenever the ball was miss-hit into the crowd and either caught someone unawares or else led to the sort of ball control that hadn’t been much in evidence among the players.

The biggest cheer of the day went to Daz, not for a mazy run, but for a tumble over one of the pitchside piles of snow. It was that sort of afternoon.

Arbroath added another couple of goals mid-way through the second half, the latter being celebrated by the handful of visiting fans with a song for the goalscorer to the tune of ‘Give It Up’. At that stage it looked like East Stirlingshire might just give it up and allow Arbroath to run riot, but they didn’t and three-nil was how it finished.

Western Sydney Wanderers v Brisbane Roar, Saturday 6th December 2015, 7.30pm

February 28, 2016

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The second A-League game of our trip to Sydney took us out to the suburb of Parramatta for the game between Western Sydney Wanderers and Brisbane Roar.

Parramatta was twenty-odd kilometres away from our hotel in the CBD and as we didn’t have a hire car we were reliant upon public transport. In this case that meant an hour-long ferry ride from the Circular Quay.

It was the sort of journey that you’d happily take just for the sightseeing rather than to actually get somewhere and as we set off we had both the Opera house and the Harbour Bridge in view. The Opera House was a lot smaller than I’d assumed it to be from when I’d seen it on the telly as the backdrop to the New Year fireworks.

We went to a gig there a few days later, not opera, although I wouldn’t have minded that if I’d been able to wear one of those collapsible hats, but Father John Misty. He was ok, better live than recorded, I’d say, with a nice line in self-deprecation over his newly announced Grammy nomination for the quality of the packaging of his latest LP.

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The Harbour Bridge was also smaller than I’d expected. Maybe it’s because these things are famous that I assume they’ll be enormous. You all know what it looks like, it’s just like the Tyne Bridge, which isn’t surprising really as both were built during the same era by Middlesbrough’s own Dorman Long.

As we passed beneath the bridge I looked up at the Teesside steel above me and reflected that the recent steelworks closures meant that there wouldn’t be any future opportunities for me to do the same somewhere new.

I did a bit of work as a contractor at British Steel thirty years or so ago and can remember the fire resistant jacket and trousers that I had to wear when in the vicinity of a furnace. The material was like carpet, which isn’t ideal for trousers. Or jackets either I suppose.

I sweated enough wearing them outside, but that was nothing compared to being indoors in the summer with a furnace blasting out its heat.

It’ll be young Chinese fellas who will have to dress up like that from now on and take their turn to point out their steel when travelling around the world.

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The ferry that we caught sometimes goes all of the way to Parramatta, but on this occasion it only went as far as the Olympic Park and so we then had to catch a couple of buses to get within walking distance of the Pirtek Stadium.

Neither driver would accept any cash from us, I think, as a consequence of the impending implementation of a card-only payment system. If all you had was cash, then you were just waved on-board for free.

Pirtek Stadium dates back to, well, quite a long time ago. Long enough for WG Grace to have played cricket there in the century before last. Or rather the site dates back that far. The current ground’s history only goes back forty years or so.

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There were plenty of people milling around with an hour or so to kick-off, many of them sporting the Dennis the Menace style shirts worn by Western Sydney Wanderers. We queued briefly to collect our pre-booked tickets, using my newly acquired Northern Territories Driving Licence as ID.

I like the idea of having two licences and am hoping that by using my Australian one when in the UK and vice-versa, I might very well be able to reduce the amount of penalty points that I accrue.

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On our way around the ground to the South Stand I was handed a leaflet by a bloke outside of the north terrace. He was a member of a fan’s group who were boycotting the game in protest at the banning of a number of ‘active’ fans.

It’s an A-League wide problem and the main complaint seems to be that the banned supporters had no chance to put evidence forward and no right of appeal. I sympathised with the cause, but my principles aren’t strong enough to miss a game at short notice after travelling from Darwin and with a ticket in my hand.

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We took our seats in the North Stand, opposite the deserted South where the ‘active fans’ would normally have been found. The ten thousand crowd half-filled the stadium but was around four thousand down on their gate from the previous game. On a selfish note, the boycott cut the queues for food and drink and so it was no trouble to get a couple of beers and a very fancy selection of three mini pies.

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The home side opened the scoring after half an hour when Mark Bridge knocked one in at the far post. The lead didn’t last for more than a few minutes though with Jamie McLaren equalising for the visitors.

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There were plenty of chances for both sides in the second half as play opened up, but the only other goal came ten minutes from time when Mitch Nichols curled in the winner. The result was sufficient to take Wanderers to the top of the table.

I’d have liked to have taken the boat back to the Circular Quay for the river view at night, but they’d stopped running and so despite the ‘free’ buses we opted for a taxi for the half hour drive back to our hotel.