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Ghana v Panama, Wednesday 17th June 2026, 7pm

July 13, 2026

Paul and I have been going to the World Cup ever since we discovered how enjoyable it was in Germany twenty years ago. Neither of us had much desire to visit the US at this time and so our options were Mexico or Canada. Whilst Mexico would have been good, and remains on the list for the future, we opted for Canada. It was a good choice.

We had tickets for two games in Toronto and headed out a few days before the first one for a short stay in nearby Kingston. It’s a very pleasant town with sufficient bars for us to mix things up as we watched around three games each day on the telly. Some were packed with football fans, others less so.

We went for a couple of walks whilst we were at Kingston including a wander around the Little Cataraqui Creek Conservation Area. Paul spotted a snake which made its escape into the undergrowth before I noticed it. I’d been hoping for a bear or two, but the best we saw was a chipmunk that filled its face with seeds intended for birds and a turtle that was crossing the road. I helped it on its way.

I managed to pick up a tick, which I discovered embedded in the back of my leg three days later in Toronto. I think it was probably dead by then due to the amount of alcohol that I’d been putting away. I bought some tweezers and removed most of it, but I think that some of its head remains lodged in my left calf.

Our first live game in Toronto was Ghana against Panama. BMO Field was easy enough to get to from where we were staying, but we had the added complication of wanting to watch the England game that kicked off three hours earlier. Fortunately, the Fan Park was only fifteen minutes away from the ground and so we watched the England match from there.

Usually, the Fan Parks are free to get into. This one did have a free section, but those tickets were long gone. That meant paying sixty-five quid each to watch the win over Croatia on the big screen in a different section of the park. The admission charge meant that it was a quieter than usual atmosphere, at least in our section anyway. It was well organized though, with clean toilets and no queues at the bar. I can live with that.

After the England game we followed the crowds to the stadium. We arrived at one of the corners and could see the behind the goal seating that had been added to increase the ground capacity to around forty-five thousand. The additional seventeen thousand seats are only temporary and will be removed after the World Cup, but they looked solid enough to me.

Our tickets were in hospitality and that meant we got beer and snacks included. The official beer was Michelob Ultra, which is drinkable if cold enough. I collected plenty of aluminium souvenir cups. Our seats were just to the right of the half-way line and gave us a decent view. I chatted to the woman on my left who had bought a package of tickets for all six Toronto games. She didn’t really seem to know much about football but was clearly enjoying the World Cup being in her home city.

The game featured the other two teams in England’s group, Ghana and Panama. Both teams had good representation in the crowd, but with a lot of the game played in the rain those in the uncovered temporary stands behind the goal probably didn’t enjoy it as much as they might have done.

There weren’t many real chances in a close contest, but Ghana nicked the points late in added time from a close-range tap in. We headed back inside to take advantage of the beer and snacks until the crowd thinned out.

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Filey Town Veterans v Madly United, Friday 5th June 2026, 6.30pm

June 24, 2026

On the back of the previous weekend’s triple crown of a gig, a walk and a match, I managed to do it again. It’s hard in June as the FA isn’t keen on football taking place, so, World Cup apart, it tends to be games organized for some charitable purpose, or veteran fixtures. Gigs are easy enough this time of year though and June is ideal for going for a walk.

The hike was another section of the Yorkshire Wolds Way. We picked up the trail at Towthorpe Corner, which is ideal for parking the car. It looks like the sort of place that would be frequented by doggers after dark but is peaceful enough mid-morning.

We had Henry with us and he managed the nine mile out and back route to Newburnholme pretty well. Most of the path was through fields occupied by sheep and cows, so he was on the lead most of the time, but he still managed to roll in some cow shit to earn himself a bath.

The gig was Stanley Brinks and Freschard at The Waiting Room in Eaglescliffe. They are French, lo-fi and anti-folk. It may be a combination that isn’t overly popular as they began their set with only around a dozen people in the room. The attendance grew as the evening went on, peaking, I think, at twenty-three.

I enjoyed it. They are pretty prolific with more than one hundred albums between them. We bought the two latest ones that they had with them and there’s another imminent release.

The football game was the first of the weekend activities. It was at Filey Town’s Clarence Drive ground on the Friday evening. We’d decided to stay over so that we could have an easy start the next morning to our Yorkshire Wold Way walk. It took only twenty minutes or so for me to wander over from our Airbnb to the ground.

It was free to get in and there was a clubhouse selling food and drink. I didn’t bother with either as we were planning on heading out after the game.

I had a chat with the manager of the visiting team. The team had grown out of social meetings for men with mental health or addiction issues. They had started playing five-a-side games and that had led to this fixture, their first ever eleven-a-side game.

There was a real mix of ability and age in the Madly United side. The manager, who was kitted out in case he was needed, was sixty-two. Some of the players on the pitch looked to be close to his age. A couple of his team might well have played at a decent level and had a good touch.

Filey were understandably more organized and were clearly used to playing with each other. Most of their players looked like they had achieved veteran status fairly recently.

Filey quickly went four up but Madly pulled a couple back before half time. The second half was tighter until Filey rattled in three late goals for a seven-two victory. I doubt the result mattered too much to Madly and hopefully meeting up and playing football will continue to make the lives of their players that little bit easier.

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Manchester Corinthians v Tintwhistle Athletic, Saturday 30th May 2026, 3pm

June 15, 2026

Some weekends are better than others. I think that any weekend where I can fit in a gig, a walk and a sporting event has to be one of the better ones. Sort of a triple crown, I suppose. This was one of those weekends with a gig in Sheffield, another stretch of the Yorkshire Wolds Way and then a cup final over near Manchester, albeit not in that order.

The gig was at Mary Street Live in Sheffield. It’s a small venue that holds around fifty people and seems more like a storeroom than a concert venue. In fact, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it might be used for stabling horses when there isn’t a music event on. It had a can bar, which was very welcome, but no air-con, which was less so. Other than Jen and I, the crowd seemed to be mostly friends and family of the bands. Everyone nipped outside to cool down at any lull in proceedings.

We were there to see the headliners, David Cronenberg’s Wife, who were very good and somehow had managed to get a grand piano on stage. The support acts were ok too, despite it being the first ever show for one of them.

The walk was the following day, six miles along the Yorkshire Wolds Way between North Newbald and Arass, then back again to fill in a gap between sections we had already done. There wasn’t much in the way of wildlife other than a decomposing rat and a grounded bird too young to fly.

We’d recently had a young crow in the back garden that couldn’t get more than two feet off the ground. I put a few worms out for it, but its parents were watching and I think it took its food from them instead. Two days later it was gone, either by flying well enough to clear the wall or by being carried away by a fox or hawk. There were no feathers left behind, so hopefully it was under its own steam.

And the other part of the triple crown? That was the Gilgryst Cup Final featuring Manchester Corinthians and Tintwhistle United of the eleventh tier Manchester League Premier Division. It was played at Ewan Fields which is currently the home ground of Hyde United and in the past one hundred and forty years since it opened has hosted the reserve teams on both Man City and United, as well as the American Football team, Manchester Falcons.

It was five quid admission and with few other football options available at this time of year I wasn’t surprised to see that the almost three hundred and fifty strong crowd included a fair representation from the groundhopping community. I started off in the main stand. Others were drinking in the standing terraced area to my right, whilst many stood behind the dugouts on the far side.

Corinthians were the stronger team in the first half and they opened the scoring as we approached the quarter of the hour mark. A ball was threaded through into the box and the striker controlled it well before cutting it back across the keeper into the far corner.

At half-time I queued for some food. Hot dogs were popular, but I went for a cheeseburger. I’ve been asked to give a little more detail about the matchday food so I can reveal that it was ok. It was initially handed over without onions, but when I pointed this out, they added them. Other than that, I remember little about it, so the best I can say is that it was unremarkable and edible. They should put that on their posters.

Corinthians continued to dominate in the second half. I switched to the opposite side of the stadium where I was able to listen to their manager constantly berating his players about their need to “switch on”. Maybe it worked as twenty minutes into the second half they switched on long enough to add a second with an unchallenged header from a cross swung in from deep on the right.

As we entered added time and with the game effectively over, the Tintwhistle keeper flattened an attacker chasing a through ball. After some consultation with the lino, the ref sent him off, maybe it was DOGSO, perhaps serious foul play. Either way, both the challenge and the subsequent decision all seemed a bit unnecessary to me at that stage.

The keeper didn’t join the queue for a medal at the end. I didn’t realise that punishing red carded miscreants by denying them a role in the post-match ceremony was still a thing. Perhaps it isn’t and he just didn’t care with it being a loser’s medal anyway. Regardless, it was a decent final and a good weekend.

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Ripon City Reserves v Cliffe, Saturday 16th May 2026, 2pm

June 1, 2026

This game came about because I needed to pick Jen up from York and Ripon is pretty much on the way. We had plans to walk some more of the Yorkshire Wolds Way the following day, so the logical thing would have been to have stayed over somewhere. That idea was thwarted though by us having Saturday night tickets for Stewart Lee for The Globe. He was very good, as ever.

Next day we drove down to North Newbald for a section of the trail notable only for sheep. Just as well that we didn’t take the dog.

The match was at Mallorie Park, which I understand might be scheduled for demolition. It was the final fixture of the season in Second Division of the York Football League, so that’s tier 13. Ripon City Reserves were at home to Cliffe.

It was free to get in and when I called into the clubhouse for a pre-match snack, they sold me a pork pie for a quid that I think might have been left over from a function earlier in the day. They had the Hearts v Celtic clash on the telly and whilst I’d hoped that Hearts would get over the line, I think we all knew how it would pan out.

I took a seat in the wooden four row covered stand. Most of the people around me were players from Ripon’s first team who had played their match that morning and were celebrating their own end of season. There were a couple of wags and a dog that might have been wearing a Cliffe kit. Other than that, it was the usual mix of family, friends and one or two groundhoppers suffering from the reduction in choice of fixtures.

Cliffe were the better side and rattled in four goals without reply in the first half. They added another soon after the restart. There was some excitement on the hour when Ripon pulled one back with a low shot into the corner that prompted a cry of “Come on boys, we can win this”. It wasn’t to be though as Cliffe added another three for a seven-one away win.

In the final throes of the game, Cliffe sent their keeper up for a corner in the hope of adding an eighth. Their ambition was neither rewarded nor punished with the corner sailing out on the full as the ref blew to bring the season to an end.

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Kirkbymoorside v Tadcaster Magnets, Saturday 2nd May 2026, 2pm

May 4, 2026

One of my aims for this year is to complete the Yorkshire Wolds Way. That doesn’t sound too ambitious, given that the trail is only seventy-nine miles long, but it took us twelve years to do the Cleveland Way, albeit in both directions.

With the plan in mind, Jen and I spent a couple of nights just outside of Market Weighton and ticked off fourteen miles between there and South Cave. We’d have done more if we hadn’t taken the dog with us, due to his age, knee op and tendency to stop and smell everything.

There wasn’t much in the way of wildlife. The odd hare and a couple of birds of prey that I’m not knowledgeable enough to identify. The highlight was probably a white pheasant. I’d assumed that these birds were rare, but on reading up about them it turns out that that they are bred to act as ‘markers’ for the birds during the hunting season.

I had hoped to have been at Wrexham to watch the Boro in their final game of the regular season. I didn’t have enough priority points for a ticket though and so was limited to following our push for promotion on my phone. Our slim prospect of automatic were over early on once Ipswich had gone two goals up in their game. That left me free to focus on the match that I had been able to get into at the New Earswick Sports ground, just outside of York.

I was there to watch the York City and District Saturday Senior Cup Final, a fixture contested by Kirkbymoorside and Tadcaster Magnets, both of the eleventh-tier York League Premier Division. Tadcaster had already clinched the league title, so were going for the double. Kirkbymoorside were in fifth place in the table and so potentially capable of providing decent opposition.

It was free to get in and, if I’d chosen to, I could have watched a cricket or rugby game on the nearby pitches instead. There were around eighty other people there and I think I might well have been the only one who wasn’t a friend or family member of the players. League Champions Tadcaster were a class above. They went ahead in the opening minutes and then added a second just before half-time when their left-back rifled one home from about thirty yards.

Tadcaster were content to sit back after the break and going into the final ten minutes there were still just the two goals in it. The Kirkbymoorside keeper then booted a Magnets striker for trying to block his clearance and was given a red. The Casper-like outfield replacement for the goalie seemed to be trying to avoid being hit by the ball at the resulting penalty. Tadcaster then made it four when Casper got his fingers to a shot that was going wide and deflected it into his own net.

The winners were presented with both their League and Cup trophies at the end and celebrated with the obligatory jumping up and down whilst spraying ‘bubbly’ over each other. Hopefully I’ll watch the Boro doing the same in three week’s time at Wembley.

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Bergnasets v Boden, Saturday 14th February 2026, 6.10pm

March 13, 2026

For the past few months, I’ve been visiting Lulea for work. It’s up in Swedish Lapland and an interesting place to spend some time. Jen thought that it might be a good location to see the Northern Lights and so she tagged along for this trip.

We spent the first day walking along an ice trail that runs across the sea from the town centre harbour to a small island and beyond. A track had been polished that allowed people to skate or use some sort of snow walker. I think my skating days are done, but I was happy to give Jen a push on the walker thing.

We made it to the island and back in temperatures that varied between -26C and -29C. It’s fair to say that I didn’t really notice the difference between the two. Both were colder than my previous experiences in Atyrau and Moscow, where it didn’t ever dip below -25C. What I did notice though was my nostril hair freezing and ice forming around the stubble on my chin.

When we got back to the apartment, I discovered frostbite on my thighs, despite having worn two layers on my legs. As I write this a month later, it is still very visible, although it hasn’t yet turned black, which suggests that I probably won’t need my legs lopping off.

You’d think that temperatures like that would mean no football, but that’s not the case. It’s pre-season in Sweden and they get around the issue of frostbite by playing the games indoors. That meant that Jen and I could pop along to the Arcushallen whatever, stadium, complex, aircraft hanger?

We called into some Swedish burger chain for something to eat beforehand, where the highlight was seeing a couple of old blokes, presumably celebrating Valentines Day, eating ketchup mixed with a few sachets of salt whilst waiting for their order to arrive.

The pre-season friendly was between Bergnasets and Boden. It was a fixture that I’d seen for real the previous summer. There was probably a similar crowd of eighty or so on both occasions, but when it’s approaching thirty degrees below zero, there’s not many places you can leave the house for.

The game got off to a lively start with Boden going a goal up in the opening minute. They doubled their lead in added time at the end of the first half. I think both sides were drawing on some ringers and Boden had a bloke up front listed as Thor the Lion. I hope that really is his name.

The second half was both scrappy and closer, with each side scoring for an eventual 3-1 away win.

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Hercules B v Atletico Saguntino, Sunday 11th January 2026, 11.30am

January 16, 2026

As it hasn’t really warmed up much Jen and I decided to have a week in Spain. The easiest option was an evening flight to Alicante from Teesside on a Friday night. The only downside was that it didn’t land until after ten and I thought it a bit late to collect a hire car and head off somewhere quieter.

Alicante itself is pretty good out of season though, warm enough for strolling about in a tee shirt and with far fewer visitors than would be around later in the year.

I was working during the week, but at the weekend we fitted a couple of walks in. The first one took us along the coast to Albufereta via a disused railway line and through some tunnels. The second one went back from the coast and up to the Sant Ferran castle. It gave us views down to the sea and also of the other castle, Santa Barbara. The second walk also incorporated a game at the Antonio Valls stadium.

The fixture was in the fifth tier between the B team of Hercules and visitors Atletico Saguntino. The hosts were mid-table with Saguntino second from top.

The area of town where the game was taking place was full of grounds. The main Hercules stadium was just across the road and there was an athletics field next door. An under-fourteen’s match was taking place nearby. There was also some other kind of indoor sports venue where the spectators were making a lot of noise. It might have been a swim meet. Perhaps with sharks or piranhas.

Jen and I arrived about five minutes before kick-off and found a spot in the main stand that was temporarily in the shade.

As well as our stand, there was another uncovered stand opposite, just slightly smaller. A few people were watching from a railing to the right where volleyball and basketball games were in progress. There was a small café with a handful of people congregated outside and a some benches that were popular, particularly the ones in the shade. I’d estimate the total crowd at about four hundred.

A fella with an impressive combover was directly in front of us. I reckon that he only had about an inch of hair remaining, but he had somehow managed to hide all evidence of hair loss. Fair play to him.

There weren’t many chances in the first half and whilst Saguntino were on top, it was goalless as the teams went off. I bought a couple of tiny empanadas from the café. They seemed to have nothing more than ketchup inside. I doubt they will catch on.

We switched to the smaller stand for the second half to try and take advantage of the shade. I’ve a feeling we nicked the spot of someone behind us in the queue for the ketchup pasties.

The visitors took the lead just after the hour when a corner led to a goalmouth scramble and an eventual poking home at the back post. Hercules applied pressure, but deep into added time they lost the ball and were hit on the break. Sagutino’s second goal confirmed the victory and after allowing the post-goal argy-bargy between the players to peter out, the ref brought matters to a conclusion without bothering to kick-off again.

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Derby County v Middlesbrough, Thursday 1st January 2026, 3pm

January 2, 2026

Well, that’s another year done. 2025 started slowly for me as I was in Saudi Arabia for most of the first couple of months, but once I returned to the UK at the end of February, I was able to start seeing a bit more football. I went to ninety matches in 2025, spread over eleven countries and seventy-four stadiums of which sixty-three were new grounds for me. I got to see the Boro play on twenty-five occasions.

I think my football year highlight was seeing the Boro rattle in four first half goals at Hull. I actually laughed out loud when the fourth went in. A visit to Millmoor for a Doncaster Belles game some forty years on from my last time there watching Bruce Rioch’s Boro was an enjoyable trip down memory lane. It was good to get around some of the lower-tier Swedish grounds in the summer and watching the Saudi Clasico in the King Abdullah Sports City Stadium was a perfect way to bring my Saudi time to an end. Ticking off the San Siro might just be worth a mention too.

It was a good year for gigs. I managed to get to forty, despite it all tailing off in the last two to three months of the year. I only saw Sea Power three times in 2025, but two of them were at Krankenhaus which really is a joy to attend. John Bramwell topped the frequency list with five shows. I now know his between song patter better than he does. I also saw Boo Hewerdine three times with his best gig coming as his Hotel Art guise in Glasgow. Honorable mentions for The Molotovs, Mike Monroe, Sparks, David Cronenberg’s Wife and Edwyn Collins. Seeing Darts forty-seven years on from the last time I saw them was an interesting experience, but I think I’ve lost the taste for doo-wop revivalists. No Weller or Bragg gigs for the first year in a while.

Jen and I got out for a walk in 2025 more frequently than we’d managed in the previous couple of years, finally finishing the Cleveland Way thirteen years after starting it and then making a solid start to the Yorkshire Wolds Way. We managed twenty-three hikes in total which isn’t too bad, but I’d like to step it up in 2026.

And so to 2026 and a New Years Day fixture against Derby. It’s eighteen years since I last bothered going to Pride Park but I’m enjoying the Boro’s season and so I thought I might as well nip down there. I’m also trying to rack up enough priority points to have a chance of going to Wrexham in the final game of the season, so every match helps.

It’s an easy two-and-a-half-hour drive south and I was able to park roadside about twenty minutes in the right direction for a swift post-match getaway. The Boro end had sold out, and the stadium looked full. It was good to see hardly any seats lost to segregation with just a double line of hi-viz stewards separating the fans.

Pride Park has the same main stand with a horseshoe design as the Riverside, although Derby went ahead and filled in the corners during the initial construction phase. I think their use of one of those corners for boxes and a scoreboard is an improvement on the Riverside set up. They’ve also put rail seating behind one goal and in the away section.

One of the downsides of a sold-out section is that you can’t move if you don’t like the people around you. I was surrounded by a combination of old blokes planning their next day out at a Tommy Robinson march and some of the most negative dickheads around.

They were adamant that all of our players were fucking bellends. Our tactics were shite and our recruitment was shite. All of this absolute shiteness had to be constantly pointed out just in case there was any doubt in the minds of anyone within earshot. Life in its entirety was shite. It was difficult to see what pleasure any of them hoped to obtain by attending. Or by existing. What made it bearable was that the most negative dickhead had a high pitched squeaky voice. It was as if he was alternating his sniffs of coke with inhaling from a helium balloon.

The match followed the recent pattern of us dominating, missing an early chance or two that would likely have led to a win, before conceding and then failing to break down ten men sat deep. All we need is for one of those chances to go in. The defeat dropped us down to third with Ipswich moving past us. Maybe a new striker or two in January will take us back to winning ways.

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Brigg Town v Doncaster City, Saturday 6th December 2025, 3pm

December 21, 2025

One of the reasons that I’d decided to head down to Humberside for the Hull game was that it would allow Jen and I to walk a little more of the Yorkshire Wolds Way. It took us thirteen years to complete the Cleveland Way and I’d quite like to finish this one whilst I’m still in my sixties.

We walked on both the Saturday and the Sunday, completing a section between Welton and South Cave in both directions. With the walks in and out to the trail it was getting on for seventeen miles in total. There wasn’t much in the way of wildlife, so the highlight was feeding a robin with ginger nuts.

The Boro playing on the Friday night gave me the opportunity to take in a post-walk match on the Saturday afternoon. I drove South across the Humber Bridge to Brigg for a tenth-tier fixture between Brigg Town and Doncaster City in Division One of the Northern Counties East league.

Before paying my six quid admission I got talking to a bloke in the car park. He had a few interesting stories of his football travels and he also told me that Brigg Town are the seventh oldest English club and that their Hawthorns ground dates back to 1959. It had been refurbished this year to provide a new clubhouse and a 4G pitch.

I spent my change from a tenner on a programme and raffle tickets, then queued for pie, chips and gravy. There was a long covered stand along one side and a smaller covered stand on the new clubhouse side. The facilities looked really good for tier ten, certainly when compared to the equivalent Second Division Northern League grounds.

Most people just leaned on the perimeter fence around the pitch and the dog highlight was some sort of spaniel/poodle cross in a wooly winter jacket.

There was plenty to occupy the crowd in the first half with Brigg taking the lead from a close range header some fifteen minutes into the game and just after the floodlights had been switched on. The home advantage didn’t last long as a mix up between the Brigg keeper, who was wearing goggles, and one of his defenders, allowed a Doncaster striker to steal the ball and finish easily.

Brigg soon restored their lead from a speculative ball into the box that seemed to evade everyone. The was a lot of niggle between the sides which escalated just before the break with two yellows for dissent in quick succession for one of the Doncaster coaching team. On receiving his red card he trudged off towards the dressing room but then thought better of it, doubled back and made for the bar instead.

The drama continued in the second half as Brigg gradually took control. A throw in that went deep into the box was headed towards goal. The Doncaster keeper was slow to react as it looped over him and dropped just beneath the bar. Brigg scored a fourth from the spot with around twenty minutes remaining to extend their lead to four-one. The Doncaster players weren’t happy about the decision and one of them ended up in the sin bin.

Being temporarily down to ten men didn’t seem to disadvantage Doncaster and by the time the miscreant was allowed to return, they had scored twice to bring it back to four-three. Both goals were decent, the latter being scored directly from a corner. Once back to full strength, Doncaster pushed for an equalizer. Despite a generous amount of added time they didn’t manage it though and Brigg took the points.

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Bridlington Town v Mossley AFC, Saturday 6th September 2025, 3pm

September 9, 2025

I wasn’t a cool kid. I’ve never been cool as an adult either, not even in that ‘so uncool that you actually are cool’ kind of way. As a thirteen year old and when my cool mates were listening to punk and new-wave, I was listening to The Beatles, Mott The Hoople and Darts. Yes, Darts, a doo-wop revival combo.

They were the first band that I ever saw live. Possibly because The Beatles and Mott The Hoople had already broken up. It was at Middlesbrough Town Hall in June 1978 and, as it was half-term, I even popped along to Debenham’s in Stockton for a signing session earlier in the day. The nine Darts members signed my album and singles and didn’t complain when I rejoined the queue and got them to sign a paper bag as well.

Forty-seven years and three months later, Jen and I went along to Cottingham Civic Hall where I saw Darts for a second time. They played all the songs I’d liked as a thirteen-year-old. Four of the nine who had signed my Debenham’s bag were on stage, two others were dead and three had moved on from their doo-wop revival days. It went well. I doubt I’ll see them for a third time, but it was an enjoyable evening of uncool nostalgia.

Cottingham is close to the start of the Yorkshire Wolds Way and as we were staying in the area we took the opportunity to begin yet another of the National Trails. We recently finished the Cleveland Way, a mere thirteen years after starting it, and currently have Hadrian’s Wall and the West Highland Way in progress.

We set off from Hessle and over the course of two days covered fourteen miles walking to Welton and back. The wildlife highlight was a vole that was so fat to be virtually round. I’ve no idea if they hibernate, but if they do, it looked ready.

There were plenty of options to see a game in the eleventh tier Humber Premier League, but instead I chose to drive forty minutes north to Bridlington for a First Qualifying Round tie in the FA Trophy. Bridlington Town of the eighth-tier Northern Premier East Division were taking on Mossley AFC, who play in the equivalent West Division.

The East Division is the league that most Northern League teams are allocated to if they achieve promotion, so I was interested in seeing the relative strengths of the teams. It’s no more than a rough guide though, especially since Bridlington are second in their division, whilst Mossley are towards the bottom end of theirs.

I’d read that there was plenty of parking at the ground, but a quick circuit of the car park suggested that we’d arrived too late. There were plenty of spaces in the nearby streets though and we were soon in the turnstile queue for the Mounting Systems Stadium.

It was nine quid admission and, whilst most of the 455 attendees were already inside, there were plenty of seats in the main covered stand.

In addition to a covered stand that ran the entire length of one side of the pitch, there was also a covered standing area behind one goal and a kind of bus stop structure opposite the main stand. Brid, as their supporters seem to refer to them, had a small group of ultras with a drum, whilst Mossley were supported by around forty fans at the far end.

At half-time I queued for a baked potato at the opposite end and was joined by the Mossley fans who had switched locations to stand behind the goal that their team were now attacking. That sort of flexibility is one of the things that I enjoy about football at this level.

Football-wise, Brid took the lead within the first minute of the game. I wondered if we might expect a rout, but the contest was fairly even after that. The early goal was enough though as the home side held on despite nine minutes of frantic added time efforts from visitors.

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