This game was in Woodlesford, near Leeds, and with the exception of a car on fire on the hard shoulder, it was an uneventful drive south. I’d done nothing of note leading up to this game and so in an effort to make this mildly interesting, I’ll pad it out by relating how I fed a crow from my hand on the way back from Glasgow, two days previously.
Jen and I had stopped at a services and taken our food and drink to a picnic table outside. There were a couple of crows hopping about and so I threw them a few bits of my pasty. I wondered if I could get one of the birds to sit on the table and so I put the food there instead. That all went well and we progressed to me holding the food in my hand and the crow taking it from my palm. It was happy to do so.
I’ve read that crows are highly intelligent and have great memories, including being able to recognise individual people. I’ll be in his good books now after his chorizo and cheddar pastry snack and if I ever get a puncture on the M74 I should be able to rely upon him and his mates for some assistance.
The game was a Yorkshire Amateur League Cup Semi Final and played at the neutral venue of the West Riding County FA. I’ve not really any idea of where the teams sit in the pyramid, but the ground provided a good venue for the fixture. A lot of the crowd appeared to be mates of the players and many had come straight from work.
There was a three-row covered stand that ran alongside the pitch, although as everyone simply stood in front of it, at the railing, there was no chance of seeing any action from the seats. At each end of the seated section were standing areas that provided a better view. The playing surface was artificial, and with a higher bounce than you tend to see these days. It almost caught out the Ryburn keeper early on, but he scrambled back to claw the ball off the line.
The game was evenly contested until we approached half-time and Ryburn scored three times in seven minutes. The Marsden players left the pitch shell-shocked, whilst I got some chips from the food hut.
As I sat on a bench outside of the clubhouse, I could hear the shouted recriminations from the Marsden dressing room as they rued their failure to keep things tight and see out the first half.
The teams returned, with Marsden believing that the next goal would be critical. It was, but unfortunately it went against them and within a minute of the restart. Despite being four down, they continued to press forward and had some decent chances before driving one into the top corner for a consolation and the best goal of the night.
Any flicker of hope was fully extinguished on the hour when a Ryburn corner bounced twice without being cleared and was nodded in at the back post. The remaining half-hour was played out with less intensity, other than when a couple of players sought to settle old scores by leaving a foot in.
Ryburn missed a penalty before adding a sixth goal to book their place in the final. I encountered no fires or crows on the drive home.
Trail of the Lion King 