Posts Tagged ‘Northern League’

Stockton Town v Thornaby, Thursday 26th December 2019, 11am

March 12, 2020

I always think of Boxing Day as a day for going to the match. It used to be with the Boro but I’ve drifted away over recent years and for this year’s festive football I thought I’d go along to watch Stockton Town at their Sixth Form ground.

I went to Stockton Sixth Form back in the early eighties but it wasn’t a great success. I had no real interest in learning and spent most of my time there recovering from nights out at Bentleys and Gaskins or skipping lessons for fictitious dental appointments. By the time they booted me out I should have had better teeth than Steve McClaren.

One thing I did turn up for in my time there were football matches. I was the keeper for the B team, with the occasional first team call up when their keeper had a genuine dental appointment. We played on the same pitch as Stockton Town do now, in a way.  You have to ignore that the pitch has been rotated ninety degrees and the grass replaced with an artificial surface. If you can put that to one side, you’d never notice the difference.

For this Northern League Division One game with Thornaby I took my grandson Harry. I paid seven quid for me and a pound for him. That’s a big difference from the Boro where it would have been thirty two pounds for me and seventeen for him for us to stand behind the goal. That’s near enough fifty quid and so it’s no wonder I rarely go anymore.

And as if to show the benefits of getting kids through the turnstiles we then spent another twenty quid or more on a golden goal ticket, programme, scarf, burger, hot dog, two hot chocolates and a coffee. The coffee was for me.

We were there quite early and so able to get a couple of the unreserved seats in the small stand along the side. There was also a shed type stand to our left populated mainly by blokes in santa hats. With the crowd exceeding a thousand, we did well to get a seat.

This will probably be the last season that the Northern League will see of Stockton Town as they are clear at the top of the table and with three teams going up they are more than likely to be playing in the Northern Premier League Division One North-West when August comes around.

That will be quite a rise for Stockton as it’s only about three years since they were in the Wearside League. In fact it’s only about ten years since they started a men’s team. They were playing as Hartburn Juniors up until then. I discovered all this reading the programme and also learned that they were founded by Derrick Small, one of my former bosses at Capper Pipes back in the day. Well done Derrick.

Sadly for the visitors, Thornaby might be two divisions apart by then with them kicking off this game in the third from bottom spot. Stockton were in yellow and blue with Thornaby in orange.

Not a lot happened in the first half and Harry, having been told by me that there might well be five or six goals, declared it a boring game. He also confided to me that he’d thought we were going to the Boro match. The fella next to me attributed the lack of goals to Thornaby being up for it and Stockton having enjoying their Christmas lunch too much.

In the second half Stockton stepped up the pressure but struggled to make the breakthrough. Our main interest as the game went on was the golden goal ticket that had a time of seventy five minutes and which we’d agreed to split the fifty quid prize. We hadn’t checked the exact time that the game had restarted but with around a quarter of an hour to go a Stockton player curled one into the corner of the net through a crowded box. We waited for an announcement of the goal time but there wasn’t one. I’ve a vague recollection of reading somewhere that local residents objected and so no announcements are made.

The goal was enough to secure the three points and the three points were enough to consolidate Stockton’s place at the top of the table. When it became apparent that there would be no goal time announcement we made an early dart, pretty much as I done throughout my brief stay at the college all those years ago. A later check online revealed the time of the goal to be seventy-eight minutes.

Seaham Red Star v Bishop Auckland, Saturday 30th November 2019, 3pm

March 8, 2020

One of the places that we’ve visited the most in our recent spell in the UK has been Seaham. It all started from a Google search for ‘dog friendly beaches near me’ and it quickly developed into somewhere to spend an hour or two when Jen and I were looking after my daughter’s beagle.

He quite likes water, usually the more fetid the better, although he’s not particularly capable once he’s out of his depth. I recently had to jump waist deep into Billy Beck to rescue him when he failed to resurface and got himself trapped under the bankside shrubbery. At Seaham it was the tide that flummoxed him. One moment he would be stood up to his midriff and then next he would be looking around in a mixture of bemusement and panic as he was lifted off the sand, before getting out of difficulty with an instinctive doggy-paddle. We’ve all been there.

Seaham beach also proved to be a great place to take the grandkids too and without their Mam to keep an eye on them they were keen on climbing the cliff faces. It wasn’t too high, but gave them the best viewpoint for looking out to sea.

If the beach and the surrounding cliff-top walks weren’t enough of an attraction, the place also has a football team, Seaham Red Star, named, I believe, after a pub and not as a nod to the side from Belgrade. And so, as the time of year wasn’t conducive to dipping the dog into the sea, I took myself along to the Ferguson Motor Repairs Stadium instead.

It was the usual six quid in for what was a ninth-tier fixture in Division One of the Northern League, with most of the change going on a programme and a ticket for the meat draw. The opposition was Bishop Auckland, a team with a somewhat more illustrious history than that of former pub team Seaham, including a record ten Amateur Cup triumphs.

It wasn’t the past record of the visitors that immediately struck me though, it was their light and dark blue vertically halved shirts. It took me a while to remember, but then I twigged that I’d had them as a Subbuteo team, some forty odd years previously. There can’t be many teams at this level with that sort of accolade.

There were early chances for both sides but it was Bishops that opened the scoring a quarter of an hour in. It brought an immediate equaliser from Seaham, only for the visitors to retake the lead from the penalty spot and then under pressure from the home side, add a third on the counter to make it four goals in an eight-minute spell.

The teams settled down somewhat at that point and we made it to half time without any further scoring. I got myself a tray of chips and gravy and whilst waiting in the queue listened in to the conversation between three visiting fans on the merits of artificial insemination in the farming industry.

Apparently when bulls are involved, they mount something that looks like a pantomime cow complete with a strategically placed receptacle resembling a welly top. That sort of deception only works for bovine bunk ups though as pigs are too intelligent and/or picky for that sort of thing and instead hold out for a hand shandy from, I presume, a farm labourer rather than a vet. I bet the careers office kept quiet about that task.

It didn’t take long after the break for Bishops to notch a fourth goal and for a while I wondered if a rout was on the cards. Seaham pulled one back though with about twenty minutes remaining and with panic setting in amongst the visiting defence the comeback looked to be on. Seaham had a potential third ‘goal’ disallowed as they pressed to get back into it, but the two goal cushion and some inspired goalkeeping eventually proved to be sufficient as Bishop Auckland dug in for the win.

Redcar Athletic v Esh Winning, Saturday 21st September 2019, 3pm

January 26, 2020

The main plan for this day was a hike along the cliff tops in the area between Skinningrove and Skelton. Jen and I parked up at Boulby, a place that that surely only exists for parking up, and took my daughter’s beagle up through the fields to join the Cleveland Way.

It was ideal weather for a coastal walk and by doubling back when getting near to anywhere inhabited we managed to spend a few hours in the middle of nowhere.

The downside was that the dog appeared to have a death wish. Or at least minimal understanding of how cliffs work. He got a lot closer to the edge than I was comfortable with and all it would have taken was a bird or a butterfly to have flown by him and he would have jumped off after it without a second thought.

I’d kept in mind the possibility of calling in at Redcar on the way back to take in some football and as we made it back to the car it looked possible that we could make the second half of Redcar Athletic’s Northern League Division Two game with Esh Winning. That was good enough for me. Most ground hoppers have their own rules and mine allow me to tick off a ground if I’ve watched any part of a proper game there. Even if I don’t arrive until the ref is moving his hand towards his mouth to blow the final whistle, it counts.

We didn’t cut it quite that fine, but it was around ten minutes into the second half before we found their Green Lane ground and made our way in. The bloke on the gate had long departed and so we saved at least a fiver a head. Dogs get in for free anyway, regardless of what time they arrive.

I asked how things were going and one fella told me that Redcar were three-nil up. A few moments later I overheard someone else asking the same question only to be told the score was three-one. Somebody wasn’t paying attention. Possibly me. As it was more likely that someone had missed a goal rather than invented one I worked on the basis that Redcar were ahead by two.

There was a small covered seating area that held about fifty and with a few wags in residence. There was also a covered standing area, but with the weather being pretty good most people just lined the perimeter railing for a closer view.

It wasn’t long before Redcar had a chance to kill the game off when one of their strikers ran on to a long ball. It was just out of his reach though and he took an unwarranted tumble in a desperate attempt at picking up a penalty. All he got for his efforts was a volley of abuse from the visiting defence.

The striker had still to get up when Esh Winning broke to the other end and had a penalty shout of their own. This one was given and converted to reduce the deficit to a single goal. The efforts of the visitors to get back on level terms weren’t helped by their lack of discipline. They had a player who I thought had been sin binned but who might have actually just received a second yellow. At that point I noticed that they only had nine players on the pitch so had either suffered an injury after using their subs or had already had someone sent off.

The Esh Winning charge sheet grew in the final minutes after a fracas where the home manager claimed to have been racially abused by an opposition player and one of the players on the visitors bench was subsequently shown a red and sent packing to the changies despite the ref not appearing to be anywhere within earshot.

All the excitement on the sidelines overshadowed the remaining on-field activities with Redcar holding on for the win.

Billingham Town v Heaton Stannington, Saturday 31st August 2019, 3pm

November 22, 2019

I’ve no idea why I’ve never been to Bedford Terrace before. You’d think that for someone with an interest  in ground hopping visiting a ground that is less than ten minute’s drive or just a forty-five minute walk from my house would have been something that I’d have got around to at some point.

Not long after leaving school, one of my mates used to play for them, but it would never have entered my head to have gone along and watched him, just like he wouldn’t have bothered coming to see me turning out for my Sunday League side Hartburn Villa.

Thirty-five years on from the pinnacle of my footballing days and what was the start of a pretty decent career for my mate, I finally made my way over the A19 to see a Billingham Town game.

There’s a decent sized car park which, had I not abandoned my car in one of the side streets, would have been ideal. It was six quid in to the ground, with another pound for the programme for an FA Vase game against Heaton Stannington. I’d no idea where Heaton Stannington is, or even if it is a place. The visitors were wearing Newcastle style strips so my immediate assumption was that they were from that area. However, I later noticed that they were sponsored by the Whitby Co-op so perhaps they are from around that way.

I’m also not sure where the FA Vase ranks in comparison the Northern League games. Stockton made it to Wembley last year so perhaps they had prioritised it. I certainly would have. The officials though were a lot older and fatter than the bright young things that I’d seen officiating in the league, so perhaps the authorities rank it a bit lower.

I went in a covered standing area on the far side which seemed to be the place where the dozen or so away fans were congregating. There was a seated stand opposite where Billingham has a few vocal fans in the top corner accompanied by a drum and possibly some brass instrument.

The windy conditions didn’t make things easy for either team, but it was the visitors who opened the scoring. The goal seemed to increase the extent of the niggling between the teams which peaked when the Billingham nine did something off the ball that led a flat out opponent and a red card. There was no further scoring in the first half and at the interval I got some chips, a coffee and a seat in the main stand.

The second half brought more pressure from the visitors with Heaton having a goal disallowed and drawing a decent save from the Town keeper. At that point Heaton were well on top against the ten men and when one of the visitors was subbed he was in such a good mood that he cheered his own name as it was announced on the tannoy.

The confidence was misplaced though as a Billingham free-kick that was floated into the box appeared to either take a deflection or be caught by a gust of wind. Either way it drifted beyond the keeper for an against the run of play equaliser.

The goal revitalised Billingham and when pressing for a winner were only stopped in their tracks by a blatant body check from a Stan defender. The subsequent yellow was greeted by a cry of “Who’s your father, referee?” which is something that I don’t think I’ve heard for thirty years and something that may very well cause bemusement to anyone born in that time.

With extra time looming a Town central defender went on a mazy run, not unlike the ones that my mate used to do all those years ago. He held off the covering challenges and finished into the corner, giving his team a two-one victory that had looked out of reach for most of the game.

Hebburn Town v Ryhope Colliery Welfare, Tuesday 27th August 2019, 7.30pm

October 25, 2019

Having broken my Northern League duck for the season it didn’t take long to clock up a second game. Jen and I made our way up the A19 to the Hebburn Sports Ground or as it is currently known, the Energy Check Sports Ground. Whatever the name, it appears to date back to 1899, a good few years before Hebburn Town even existed.

We were there for the Division One clash with Ryhope Colliery Welfare and handed over six pounds each to get in with another couple of quid for a programme that was much more informative and professionally put together than I could have expected at this level. I don’t know how many they sell, but with a crowd of just 249 it can’t be enough to justify the efforts that will have gone into it.

Hebburn were in yellow and black as I suppose a team nicknamed the Hornets probably should be, whilst Ryhope were in purple. The home side had made an excellent start to the season, topping the table with four wins in their first five games. The visitors hadn’t began the campaign too shabbily either and were just above half-way in the table.

It was mainly Hebburn possession and territorial advantage early on, but it took a long ball that was miss-controlled by a Ryhope centre-half into the path of a home striker to break the deadlock. Hebburn were much the better team for the remainder of the the first half but didn’t take any more of their chances.

At half time I wandered around from our seats in the main stand and joined the queue at the food hatch next to the club house. Chips and curry sauce looked to be the best offering and it went down well.

With the nights drawing in the second half was played in near darkness with the Hebburn floodlights little brighter than a landing night light. The substitute board provided more illumination and I’m convinced that the teams were bringing players on just so that they could use the board lighting to see what was going on.

One thing that I did notice despite the gloom was that the officials all seemed very young. I suppose that’s the way it is these days and more to do with getting younger people into officiating rather than a perception due to my age. They managed the game well, with one of the linesman having a very detailed discussion with an unusually polite Ryhope defender over the newly introduced changes to interpreting handball.

From what I was able to see, Hebburn were clearly on top but Ryhope were never really out of it and missed a couple of decent chances to level the score. Deep into injury time, the Hornets sealed the win with a break bringing a second goal. The victory was well deserved and consolidated their position at the top of the table.

 

Thornaby v Stockton Town, Monday 26th August 2019, 11am

October 23, 2019

I’d had a fair bit to do after getting back to the UK so it was a while before I got around to fitting a game in. A bank holiday Northern League derby was perfect though for getting back into it and so Jen and I made the short trip to Thornaby’s  Teesdale  Park.

It was a long walk in down a back lane. There were a few cars parked by the verges including a couple that had blocked a taxi in. The driver seemed resigned to his fate and I wondered if he was secretly happy to hang around and watch the game.

It was six quid to get in, which Jen thought quite expensive for a match that I’d described to her as being in the ninth tier of English football. I didn’t think it was too bad though. You don’t get much for that sort of cash these days.

There were a few choices for sitting or standing. We could have gone in the main covered stand, or in an open stand behind one of the goals. There were some outdoor tables in the club house that you probably had to get there quite early for and, as ever, the option of just leaning on the perimeter barrier. It was a dry, sunny day though and so we sat on the grassy bank across the pitch from the dug outs.

The keepers caught our attention early on, with the Stockton goalie being described by a kid behind me as a “pound shop Schmeichel”. I was initially impressed that the pre-teen would even know of the former Man United keeper before twigging that it was more likely Peter’s boy that he was referring to.

The other goalie was notable for wearing gloves that went so far up his arms that from a distance Jen thought he had plaster casts on them. When I questioned the likelihood of a goalie turning out in that condition she reminded me that it was a Bank Holiday and suggested that, in view of the other demands on their time, the clubs might very well have been struggling to put teams of fully fit players together.

The ground continued to fill up over the first half with the attendance later being announced as 470. That’s pretty good for a ninth tier game and I suspect  the morning kick-off time probably played  a part.

A moment after a fella nearby had commented how evenly balanced the game had been to date, Stockton took the lead when Kevin Hayes hit a speculative shot from distance that evaded the home keeper. A few minutes later Nathan Mulligan, who I seem to remember was on Boro’s books a while ago, rifled home across the keeper for a two goal half-time lead.

The second half was largely as even as the first had been and for a while it looked as if that brief spell just before the break had cost Thornaby. However, as the game drew towards its conclusion Kevin Hayes appeared to miss-hit a cross that wrong-footed the Thornaby keeper and dropped behind him into the net. The scorer looked more sheepish than the goalie did. At the death and with people heading off to their barbecues, Mikey Roberts broke through for the visitors and hit the cleanest finish of the game for Stockton’s fourth.

It wasn’t really a game where there seemed to be four goals difference between the teams, but Stockton were just that bit more clinical when it mattered .

Willington v Tow Law Town, Tuesday 26th December 2017, 11am

January 25, 2018

Bank Holiday games in the Northern League generally kick-off at 11am and so that meant I had time to fit one in before the Boro’s Boxing Day fixture against Bolton. I picked Willington as it was handy enough to get to from Sedgefield.

On the way there I passed a couple of signs for a Roman fort. It’s a shame that I don’t plan ahead a bit more as I’d have quite liked to have had a look around and it might have made the blog post mildly interesting for a change. Oh well.

It was five quid to get into Hall Lane for the Division Two game with Tow Law Town. It’s a ground that has been home to Willington for almost all of their hundred-plus years and I think the stand opposite the dugouts dates back to the 1930’s.  As ever, most of the crowd stood around the perimeter fence. It was a decent turnout, as you’d expect on a Boxing Day and I overheard one fella say that at almost two hundred, it was three times the usual attendance.

I don’t know a great deal about Willington other than they were managed for a while by Malcolm Allison. This was after he had left the Boro and long after his hey-day. If Willington had a team bath back in those days then it would be nice to think that the likes of Fiona Richmond would still be joining Big Mal in it for a bottle or two of champagne.

In addition to a former Boro manager, I seem to remember that they had one of our captains for a while. Tony McAndrew had a spell with them in the late-eighties as his playing career drew to a close. I’m pretty sure Trappa captained Chelsea during his spell there too. It’s hard to imagine any modern-day footballer continuing at this level after a successful pro-career, never mind Chelsea captains who probably earn enough in a week to fund Willington for a few years.

The game was lively from the off with a kung-fu style assault going unpunished in the first minute. The ref lost control from then on in and having set an early precedent allowed another couple of potential reds to go unpunished as the tackles flew in.

Willington were kicking down the slope and opened the scoring in the first half when someone tucked away the rebound from a shot that the Tow Law keeper couldn’t palm far enough away from danger. It stayed that way until half-time. I queued for a chippy butty and updated the tea lady on the violent disorder out on the pitch.

Tow Law could have gone top with a win but that looked increasingly unlikely as Willington went two up a few minutes after the break. The visitors had their chances, hitting the post and then having a penalty saved but despite the pressure Willington added another at the death for a slightly flattering three-nil win.

 

Shildon v Billingham Synthonia, Saturday 23rd December 2017, 3pm

January 22, 2018

Jen and I were in the UK for Christmas and with the Boro away at Sheff Wed I thought I’d take in a Northern League game. We were staying at Sedgefield and so it was only a twenty-five minute drive to Shildon for their Division One clash with Billingham Synthonia.

As I often do, I assumed that I’d be visiting a one-horse town and that it would be impossible to miss the football ground. I was wrong again and somehow managed to drive the full length of Shildon twice before admitting defeat and checking the location on my phone.

It was six pounds to get in and then another couple of quid for a programme. A bucket collection on the other side of the turnstile hoovered up the remaining change from my tenner.

I’m told that the Dean Court Ground dates back to 1903 and that the big five hundred seater stand was built in 1923. The stand might not see its centenary though as on my visit all you could do was loiter in front of it. The seated area had been taped off, presumably as some sort of safety measure.

On the opposite side of the ground was a much newer stand that had only been open for a few weeks. It holds two hundred and has replaced a longer covered terracing section. I’m not sure that’s progress at all. The crowd of 190 could have all fitted in the new stand, but most chose to stand at various points around the perimeter.

I positioned myself behind the home dugout for a while and listened to the softly spoken Shildon manager advising his players on his requirements for flatness and narrowness. I wasn’t really paying enough attention to remember whether they were too flat and too narrow or not flat and narrow enough. Possibly it varied according to the state of play. Regardless, I liked the calm way he got his point across to his players one at a time.

I had hoped that one of the players would be former Boro Youth Cup winner Anthony Peacock. Remember him, the little midfielder? After spells at Darlo and Spennymoor, he turns out for Shildon these days. Unfortunately he had been out injured for a while.

Despite Shildon being up at the top end of the table and Synthonia rock bottom, current form for the two teams was very similar. Whilst the home side had the better chances throughout and pressed hard towards the end, the result went true to current form and the game finished goalless.

Crook Town v Tow Law Town, Friday 17th February 2017, 7.30pm

April 7, 2017

Jen and I were staying in Sedgefield for this UK visit  and that made it handy for getting to a Northern League Division Two fixture at Crook. I was reasonably confident of finding their Millfield ground on the basis that if I followed the sign at the A1 roundabout for Bishop Auckland, sooner or later there would be a sign for Crook. Sure enough, that’s exactly how it worked.

I’d also assumed that Crook would be a small enough town to make finding the stadium a doddle, but if it hadn’t been an evening kick-off under floodlights I’d probably have struggled a little more than I did.

It was five quid to get in, with another pound for a programme. From what I can gather, the ground pre-dates Crook Town’s formation in 1889. It has seen a few Amateur Cup winning sides including one that featured Frank Clark, a future European Cup winner with Nottingham Forest.

There was a main stand that was built in the twenties and a slightly smaller one to its right. The goal at that end had some concrete terracing and the other two sides just a grassy bank apiece.

Tow Law were the visitors in a reverse of the fixture that I’d seen at their Ironworks Road ground last season. Most of the noise came from the players who, in what didn’t seem to be an ironic manner, spent the match shouting to each other that they were “too quiet”. I’m not sure that any situation can ever be too quiet.

If the players weren’t berating each other they were having a pop at the ref and each side seemed to have a rota for carrying out the criticism. If all of the players are critical in turn, I presume it’s less likely that one will be singled out for a yellow card. I’d just book them all.

There were a couple of hundred home fans and a small section of visitors up in the main stand. Although with the two towns only being five miles apart there were probably a few more Tow Law supporters dotted around the ground. Neither set of fans made much noise, with the biggest contribution coming from a bloke leaning on the railing who was coughing so hard that I thought he might hack his rib cage up.

Tow Law were the better side and after being a couple of goals up at half-time kept adding to their score as the game went on. Crook had neither the necessary composure or luck in front of goal and as the second-half drew to a close found themselves five-nil behind.

I hung on to see if the visitors could match the six-nil score of the game I saw between the teams last season.  Tow Law came close, hitting the post with the final kick of the evening. I suppose Crook can take some comfort from the slightly smaller defeat. I might turn up next year and see if they can maintain their improvement and limit the deficit to four.

Stokesley Sports Club v Thornaby, Monday 2nd May 2016, 11am

August 13, 2016

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The Bank Holiday games in the Northern League tend to start a bit earlier than the regular three o’clock kick-offs. It makes a lot of sense as it still leaves enough of the day to do other things afterwards.

A quick scan of fixtures revealed that Stokesley were at home to Thornaby and as Jen and I were staying just down the road in a cottage at Ingleby Greenhow it seemed an ideal choice.

We’ve stayed at Ingleby a couple of times now. It’s quiet, but close enough to Norton to make doing the family stuff easy enough. Being out in the countryside makes it interesting for the grandkids too and they revelled in talking to the sheep and horses, poking a dead pheasant and chasing rabbits down the long driveway.

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It was also handy enough for Jen and I to do a bit more of the Cleveland Way and we hiked from Clay Bank to Osmotherley and back over a couple of days.

The weather was fine and whilst I tend to prefer the coastal sections of the trail, the mix of woodland and open moors, together with the views of Teesside made both days decent walks.

Mind you, we probably could have done with an earlier start on the second day as we ended up coming down off the moors in darkness.

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The weather was less impressive for the game at Stokesley’s ground, with strong winds and the odd spot of rain. It was five quid to get in and the bloke on the gate apologised for being sold out of programmes. He generously offered to post one to me, but as I’m trying to give up accumulating stuff that will never see the light of day again I very politely fucked him off.

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I made my way around to the far side of the ground just as the game began, passing a dog with a burst football in its mouth. I’m not sure that it’s particularly wise to bring to a dog with that sort of hobby to a match.

I’m not a fan of Banning Orders, mainly on the basis that we have sufficient proper laws to deal with football-related skullduggery, but I’d find it hard to oppose one for the owner if Fido decided to add to his popped Mitre Multiplex collection.

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Thornaby were in blue shirts that were way too big for most of their players. The blustery conditions meant that the wind kept getting trapped inside of them. Part of me wanted the wind to pick up further on the off-chance that some of the lighter members of the visiting team might get literally carried away.

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Spurred on by the presence of a bumper bank holiday crowd of forty-seven (and a dog), Stokesley took the lead on the half-hour. I was quite surprised as they hadn’t been doing at all well this year and weekly hammerings had left them well adrift at the foot of the table and long-since relegated.

In fact, in what I’d assumed to be a reasonable form guide, they’d suffered at nine-one defeat to Thornaby in the reverse fixture, just the previous week.

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Normality was restored before the break with two Thornaby goals and with the rain getting heavier I took my eighty pence cup of coffee into the covered stand for the second half.

A few visiting fans with their blue and white scarves had made the trip from Thornaby and they were rewarded as the visitors extended their lead to an eventual four-two victory.

That was it for the for the season for those two teams. That was also it for the Northern League as far as Stokesley are concerned as they will start next season in the not quite so prestigious Wearside League. I doubt it will make much difference to the dog.