In an day of unbelievable twists and turns Darlington Football Club are still in business but only just. As we write there are 8 minutes for them to lodge the necessary funds with the adminstrator to allow their next three games to go ahead. Now it is up to townsfolk of Darlington to get behind the Quakers and create a community based football club that will live on.
Update : Money lodged – Quakers live to fight another day
In a far more serious mode than usual, we have been following with interest the saga that is unfolding at the Northern Echo Arena. Darlington Football Club placed into administration for the third time is in its death throes. The last rites have been administered and our old cricketing colleague Harvey Madden, who has a reputation among administrators similar to that of Judge Jeffreys amongst the legal profession, cites the situation as dire and intimates that the end of the week might also be the end of the road for the Quakers.
Darlo have always had a fervent if not populous fan base and on Saturday over a 1,000 of them made the trip to Holker Street to witness what might turn out to be the club’s last match against Barrow. Although they lost 3-0 we hear that players and supporters hugged and applauded each other in what must have been an extremely emotional occasion for all concerned.
© Mark Fletcher, Media Image Ltd
Destined to languish amongst life’s underdogs Darlington’s highlights and halcyon days have been few and far between, a league cup quarter final in 1968, promotion to the third division in 1985, Conference champions in 1989-90, Fourth Division champions in 1990-91 and last season’s FA Trophy success were interspersed with several relegations and the need to apply for re-election to the Fourth Division on five occasions in the 1970s. Nevertheless they existed in relative comfort that is until the new millennium when the Quakers came under the stewardship of charismatic ex criminal turned successful businessman, George Reynolds. As some wag once told us “the only thing that is remotely Quaker about George is that he’s done plenty of porridge!”
Never a friend of the fans, Reynolds had big ideas and much to the chagrin of the inhabitants of the Tin Shed decided to end the club’s 120 year tenure at Feethams and move to a newly built 25,000 all seater stadium which was duly named the “Reynolds Arena”. We are probably not alone in believing that this was the beginning of the end, Reynolds no doubt believed that it was the end of the beginning but six months later faced with mounting debts the club slipped into administration. George jumped on his sword in January 2004. The move to the “Reynolds/Williamson Motors/TFM/Balfour Webnet/Northern Echo” arena stripped the Quakers of their identity, planning wrangles and restrictions limited the stadium’s capacity to 10,000 however in reality Darlo were never going to play to a full house or even half a full house for that matter. Rather ironically our only visit to the “Reynolds White Elephant” took place on our birthday last year, not on jolly paid for by an admiring fan but to cover the Blue Square Premier encounter with Altrincham. The crowd that day was 1,973 considerably less than 10 percent of the capacity and it was precisely because of these perpetually low attendances that the club entered administration for the second time in 2009 when a 10 point deduction cost them a play-off place. They were eventually saved by a consortium led by Teesside based businessman Raj Singh but a succession of managers and poor results left them languishing in the Blue Square Bet Premier Division. Singh’s patience ran out last week and despite the efforts of the fans it is clear that bucket collections and car boot sales won’t save them this time. Unfortunately, without major investment the Quakers are condemned to martyrdom.
Quakers aside, we are on missionary work in South Yorksheer this weekend covering Donnie against Cardiff at the Keepmoat.
Firstly, a happy New Year to our reader we hope that whoever you are you have a healthy, wealthy and content 2012.
As for us we have had a busy festive period doing our ‘play’ job as “er indoors” calls it. We began a fortnight ago with a change of direction, venturing north up the A19 to Newcastle to cover the Maggies against the Baggies at the Sports Direct Arena. “Be sure to sample the cuisine” our fellow tog Steven Hadlow told us and even though the Baggies ran out 3-2 winners in a thoroughly entertaining game, the cuisine was the definite highlight of the evening for us. Indeed, compared to many grounds the Sports Direct Arena boasts an unusually plush media suite which offers the gentlemen and women of the press a choice of main courses. Being more used to a curled up sandwich than a main course we plumped for the Lamb Curry and very nice it was too. “Waad yee leik some more pet…” the lady asked us “…or hev a piece of christmas cake fre afters” she added. The lady continued to bombard us with offers of various titbits of food as she regaled us with various titbits of gossip about our fellow members of the press. “He loves coming heor…” she tells us pointing at a well know TV pundit, “Calls me grandma, yee knaa” she added. “An as fre hor shes getting married te him but its a secret” she whispers pointing to a female reporter. Not any more we thought.
Cuisine or more precisely beverages rather than celebrity gossip was the main topic of conversation when we covered Middlesbrough’s game against Hull on Boxing Day. The wire room at the Riverside stadium offers what you might call slightly more Spartan accommodation than its Newcastle counterpart. Similarly, the cuisine is more “cul de sac” than “a la carte” nevertheless there’s a copious supply of Bovril and it was that that became the subject of the pre match chatter. “Can’t stand the stuff” the guy from North News declared, “Mi brother loves it mind. Even puts pepper in it an all! Always thought he was barmy.” he added. Since, we’re quite partial to the odd cup of Bovril ourselves and have recently even acquired our own half time Bovril wallah in the North Stand and given that we’ve put pepper in it too, we decided to keep quiet. Don’t want to be committed alongside his brother we mused.
A second visit to Middlesbrough on New Year’s Eve was the prelude to an epic day to kick off the New Year on Monday. Originally scheduled for a trip to the seaside to cover the Boro’s visit to Blackpool we were switched and in the best tradition of the January sales got a buy one get one free deal covering two League 1 matches instead. First on the agenda was a commission for the Daily Star and a trip to Rochdale for their Lancashire derby against neighbours Preston North End. Next up was a commission for the Express and Star which left us following the Walsall attack at Bury.
Rochdale is old mill town which lays in a valley, hence the dale bit. It’s more semi-detached suburban than Oldham but is sadly more famous for being the setting for the BBC drama series “Waterloo Road” as well as home to variety star Gracie Fields and the colourful and corpulent Liberal politician Cyril Smith than it is for its football club who have seldom been out of the bottom tier of the Football League.
The Spotland Stadium
The football club share the “Spotland Stadium” with the town’s Rugby League outfit the Hornets who are equally unsuccessful and play in The Co-operative Championship 1, the third tier of English Rugby League alongside teams such as Gateshead Thunder and South Wales Scorpions. Spotland has a capacity of 10,000, on Monday 4,570 made the effort. The layout of the ground is unusual in that the away support is housed in the stand opposite the tunnel and the dugouts rather than behind one of the goals. Although Spotland is pleasant enough with easy going stewards and friendly supporters, the photographer’s area was like the cuisine, non existent. Indeed, the nearest we came to beverage of any description was the intriguingly named referee, Mr T Kettle.
The Lilywhites took the lead in the 16th minute thanks to Jake Jervis who had only joined them the day before, nevertheless their joy was short lived since after 25 minutes Dale new boy Daniel Bogdanovic, who rather ironically for us is on loan from Blackpool, levelled the scores. As for us, by the time the teams came out for the second half we were on our way to Bury.
Gigg Lane, Bury
Bury is the regimental town of the Lancashire Fusiliers who are sadly no longer in existence but who will always be remembered thereabouts for their bravery at Gallipoli when six members of the regiment were awarded Victoria Crosses. The Shakers have had a much more successful history than their near neighbours Rochdale and have won the FA Cup twice in 1900 and 1903 when they beat Derby County 6-0 – a record victory for a Cup Final that still stands. Bury ply their trade at Gigg Lane their home since 1885. The pitch as we discovered is like a crown green in other words it is shaped like an up turned saucer which meant at times we couldn’t see the players’ feet at the other end of the ground. Despite the usual friendly Lancashire welcome the photographers’ accommodation and cuisine at Gigg Lane is identical to that at Spotland Stadium. Not even a piece of the famous Bury black pudding to be found. On Monday, aside from us 3095 turned up for the visit of Walsall nearly 300 of them had made the trip from the Midlands. All three goals were scored in the first half, sadly for the readers of the Express & Star two thirds of them by Bury. Cold, thirsty and hungry but satisfied at a job well done we set off back over the M62.
Back to our Bovril wallah this weekend as we return to the Riverside Stadium for the magic of the FA cup and the visit of Shrewsbury Town.
A change of scenery for us last weekend, mind you we were still traversing the M62, well it wouldn’t be the weekend if we weren’t. This time agent Andi decided to send us on a trip to Oldham. We were quite excited as we’d never been to Boundary Park.
Boundary Park, Oldham
Oldham, as our reader no doubt knows is what is best described as an old mill town lying on elevated ground. In other words it sits atop of the Pennines on the Red Rose side and could easily change its name to “Coldham”. Indeed, bleak would be an appropriate adjective to prefix Oldham. Thankfully, Boundary Park offers extensive parking facilities, free to us press wallahs but a fiver to the hoi polloi, so we had no trouble in finding the ground or parking the charabanc. Similarly, the stewards are friendly and accommodating, even the fella who relieved us of a tenner for our bib did it with a smile! “Bring’t bib back at t’end and I’ll give thi it back. That’s if thi can finned me” he told us.
The ground itself could be described as dated, the more heartless may even say run down, we however prefer old fashioned and since the Broadway stand was demolished is three sided, not triangular you understand but lacking any spectator accommodation on one side of the pitch. It may only be twenty or so miles from the Galpharm but it’s Poles apart and judging by Saturday’s temperature Boundary Park is situated somewhere in the Arctic. Oldham Athletic or the Latics as they are known were founder members of the Premier League as were their opponents Sheffield Wednesday both having fallen on harm times now ply their trade in the third tier. After a brief discussion with our colleague Ste Jones it was decided that we would take the Wednesday end of the ground and he would park himself in front of the home support.
Behind us the 4,000 strong travelling support were in full voice belting out a selection of music hall greats such as “We always get shit refs…” and “Oldham’s a shit hole, I wanna go home…” Alongside us were a couple of dozen stewards together with several members of the Lancashire Constabulary including one very young and extremely tall one. What is they say about policemen looking younger we reflected.
Although the temperature had dropped from freezing to absolutely Baltic it was still clearly too warm for one of the Sheffield intelligentsia who regardless of the rain, wind and hail removed his shirt and stood totally topless throughout. The Latics had the better of the first half with Shefki Kuqi and Robbie Simpson going close. A second half goal for the Owls led to a small minority of the brains trust invading the pitch. Perhaps it’s warmer in a police cell than it is in the Rochdale Road end, we mused as they were lead away by the members of the Lanky Constabulary. A late penalty, albeit in our opinion, a dubious one gave Wednesday a second goal which was inevitably followed by another incursion onto the pitch. The goal also prompted the white rose choir to enter into the festive spirit as they struck up with “Oh what fun it when Wednesday win away…” to the tune of Jingle Bells.
The final whistle brought about a surprisingly ordered exit from the multitude behind us, maybe the unordered have already left we wondered. As for us we started our game of hide and seek with the fella who gave us our bib.
Excitement abated we are back at the KC tomorrow.
Apologies to our reader for our recent reticence to keep you informed of our whereabouts but unfortunately we’ve been a tad overburdened with our “proper” job as “er indoors” calls it.
During our unwanted but forced absence from here things have changed, not with us you understand, we’ve still been traversing the M62 alternating between the Galpharm and The KC and the twin peaks of Huddersfield Town and Hull City. Surprisingly our last visit to the Galpharm Stadium passed without major incident, no faulty card readers or wipe outs from wayward wingers on this occasion. However as no doubt our reader is aware we witnessed history being made. Yes, we watched the Terriers beat Notts Forest’s record for the longest unbeaten run in the football league. Unfortunately, the unbeaten run went up in smoke down the smoke when they lost the next match at Charlton.
Outside of Yorksheer, American Samoa also made history, when shook the football world by beating Tonga 2-1, their first victory for 17 years ending a run of defeats nearly as long as Huddersfield’s unbeaten run. You will no doubt recall American Samoa were the ones that lost 31-0 to Australia in the 2002 World Cup qualifiers, as Bob Dylan said “the times they are a changin”.
On this occasion our mention of change is more to do with the hysterical than the historical. That well respected publication, the New York Times tell us that Samoan centre back Jonny Saelua who played a key role in the victory is transgender. Not quite what we are used to witnessing at the Galpharm or even the KC, although we once saw a fella in a dress at Vicoria Park! Nevertheless, the fa’afafine as they are know thereabouts are totally acceptable in Polynesian culture apparently. We wonder what John Terry might have to say should the two ever meet on the same pitch.
By way of a footnote or should that be an add on, American Samoa drew 1-1 with the Cook Islands but failed to progress to the next stage after conceding an 89th minute goal against Samoa.
Yesterday we suggested “ It’s Time for Senile Sepp to Sod Off!” However we warned our reader that was unlikely to happen because he’s so thick that he probably would have no idea of the offence he has caused. Today we hear that he has made a ‘fulsome’ apology, David Davies’ words not ours. Davies adds that there are not calls from around the world for Blatter to resign, perhaps not David but there’s plenty from us and our fellow countrymen.
Blatter told the BBC “I cannot resign, why should I? ….To leave would be totally unfair and not compatible with my fighting spirit, my character, my energy.” What did we tell you, he’s a senile meglomaniac who has no grasp on reality.
We are now more convinced than ever that FiFA president Sepp Blatter is a raving lunatic. When asked whether he thought racism on the pitch was a problem in modern-day football, Blatter is reported to have said in two separate television interviews that he “…would deny it. There is no racism.”
Thankfully, the PFA have reacted strongly and Gordon Taylor is calling for Blatter’s resignation. Unfortunately, we can’t see him going of his own volition. Anyone who comes out with comments like the women’s game could be improved by wearing tighter shorts and gay fans should “refrain from sexual activity” if they go to the 2022 World Cup in Qatar clearly has little or no grasp of reality. It is his loose grasp of reality coupled with a thirst for power bordering on megalomania that will prevent him from resigning unless he’s pushed hard from within his own organisation.
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