The Groundhopper

Leamington FC 1 Newport County 1

2008-07-20T20:21:00.008+01:00

Mrs P, like D***y County defender Claude Davis, has been out of sorts this week. I have generously shared my throat infection with the good lady and she has done nothing but cough and splutter. I’m a firm believer in equality though: she has spent six nights on the bounce sleeping on the downstairs settee

The Nuclear Scientist picks me up at 1pm. We have spent a large amount of the summer getting pished and playing table tennis. He plies me with real ale and tries to take advantage, but I hold the upper hand.

It’s down the A46, M1, M69 and back onto the A46. The Nuclear Scientist talks fondly of the Little Chef Olympic Breakfasts he has troughed his way through on this road. He sheds a tear as we pass yet another boarded-up Little Chef.

We’re in Shakespeare’s County: Warwickshire. We pass signs for historic Coventry. We drive through Warwick and past the castle. NS loves driving his Jag; he thinks he’s Inspector Morse.

Royal Leamington Spa has a population of 45,000 and lies on the River Leam. The New Windmill Ground is out of town. Famous people born in Leamington include: the boxer Randolph Turpin, actor Nicholas Ball, racehorse trainer Peter Chapple-Hyam and footballers Ben Foster and Riccardo Scimeca. They film the cringe worthy BBC “comedy” (?) Keeping up Appearances in the town. For two points what is the name of Hyacinth’s son?

Today’s visitors are former Football League club Newport County. Animal Magic’s Johnny Morris, Stoke City manager Tony Pulis and indie rappers Goldie Lookin Chain are all from the area: youse knows it.

Football in Leamington goes as far back as 1891. They are nicknamed the Brakes and play in Step 4 of the Pyramid. They were cruelly knocked out the play-offs by Stourbridge in front of over 1000 people. A record crowd. British Gas Premier League team Brackley Town have raided the Brakes for three of their best players. There will be a few strangers on show this afternoon.

Newport County play in the Blue Square Premier at Step 2. Their manager is none other than Cockney wide-boy and former Crazy Gang member Dean Holdsworth. Ex-Wolves winger Kevin Cooper and Reggae Boy Paul Hall are in today’s line-up. They are nicknamed the Exiles.

It’s £6 entry and a further 1.50 for a stunning programme. It’s got the lot. We saunter around the ground, the pitch is immaculate. Leamington FC are a very organised and friendly club. There’s an army of officials and stewards at your beckon call.

The PA man has his Best of the 80's CD on. Howard Jones, Bananarama and the Human League can just be heard above the howling wind.

We enter the Ed Mullard Bar and have a Murphy's and a Stella. It costs £5.50. Kids run around the bar with their replica Man Utd and Milan shirts on. Nickelback are on the giant white screen positioned in the corner of the club.

The last time I saw Newport play was at Sincil Bank over 25 years ago. They were 4-0 up at the break courtesy of goals from John Aldridge and Tommy Tynan. I was back home in Nottingham before the game had ended.

The DJ has now moved into the modern era and is playing Dutch Euro dance band 2Unlimited’s Get Ready For This (1991) as the players enter the field of play

We stand on the opposite side to the dugouts. NS is only a little lad and I’m concerned he won’t be able to see over the barrier.

The Brakes kick up the slope with the wind behind them. They seem content to lump the ball forward very quickly, and appear to be devoid of having any game plan. Brakes’ forwards Bellingham and Corbett don’t stand a prayer, although the former misses a golden chance, with Thompson saving bravely.

The Exiles slowly make their way into the game. Adie Harris is orchestrating the midfield and cleverly spreads the play. Both full backs bomb down the wing. They are an organised and well-oiled machine. They begin to show their class.

Walsh and Hughes both go close, before they finally take the lead, shortly before the break. NS has nipped to the loo and I’m in the queue at the tea bar when a Collins free-kick is deflected into the net to put the visitors in front.

The tea is a tad disappointing. A teabag is tossed into a polystyrene cup, with hot water poured onto it from an urn. I’m left to press the bag against the cup and help myself to milk, I’d rate it a 6 out of 10.

I wander off to take a photo of Deano Holdsworth. He throws me a big smile for the camera. One of his entourage suggests I buy Holdo a coffee. I point him in the general direction of the tea bar.

I walk past the terrace behind the goal that Leamington are about to attack. There’s a Scottish flag hanging up from the Kilmarnock Branch of the Leamington Supporters’ Club. A man stands alone further along the terrace, with a Croatian scarf draped around his neck.

The Brakes are now kicking down the slope and enjoy longer spells of possession. Deano has pulled off some of his stronger players.

Large black clouds loom. We retire to the relative safety of the main stand as the heavens open.

The Newport keeper appears to be struggling with the elements. He’s waved at a couple of crosses and looks uncertain. There’s only a few minutes to go and we are making our way towards the exit. Leamington have been awarded a free-kick on the right hand side. It’s hoisted in to the far post, Newport keeper Thompson elects not to come. There’s a series of head tennis between the Leamington players before Guy Sanders heads home. They’ve deserved a goal.

The DJ can’t resist another track from his 80’s collection. We walk out to the Blow Monkeys, Digging Your Scene.

We’re driving back home. NS has put Radio 4’s Test Match Special on. England are been spanked all over Headingley. Aggers has just announced that Scooby Doo has been arrested in the notorious Western Terrace. Don’t worry he says he’ll be back as Batman next year and the police won’t recognise him. We’re doubled–up with laughter.

Leamington 1 Newport County 1

Attendance: 415

Man of the Match: Paul Hall

.

Corby Town 3 Grimsby Town 1

2008-07-17T22:09:00.005+01:00

It’s nearly three months since I watched the beautiful game. I’ve supped and slurped endless amounts of gin, wine and beer. I’ve read the gritty novels of David Peace. And I’ve parked my backside for most of the summer in the Larwood and Voce Stand at Trent Bridge. But my craving for football has never been far away. First port of call for 2008/2009 season is the Rockingham Triangle Sports Stadium in Corby.

White Van Man has cried off. He’s saving up for his trip to Poland, where for the first time in his life he will drink kosher vodka.

The Taxman’s a good lad though, despite having a little moan and groan, as we drive through his old tax inspecting stomping ground. It’s a gorgeous evening as we navigate the Rolls Royce (Mrs P’s new Mondeo) through the rolling Leicestershire countryside, slipping in and out of picture postcard villages.

The Taxman is in his element, he’s telling me tales of businesses visited in this neck of the woods whilst working for Her Majesty’s Inspectorate of Taxes. Shopkeepers and farmers must have been quaking in their boots.

We pull in at an ivy-cladded olde worldy pub in Rockingham Village, called the Sondes Arms. I’m ravenous, but have no time to eat. We settle for Black Sheep bitter.

Four Grimsby Town fans are huddled in a corner excitingly discussing the pre-season new signings that their manager Alan Buckley has made. One wears a number eleven retro shirt with Ivano Bonetti on the back. That’s the guy that Brian Laws allegedly threw a plate of chicken bones at one stormy evening at Kenilworth Road. I mention I support Lincoln City; they can’t exit the pub quick enough.

I notice a tea rooms up the road as we stroll out the pub; bless him, WVM would have loved that had he made the trip. He’s missed out on a cream tea. We pass a police van, its blue lights are flashing. It’s stationary and on the lookout for speeding motorists or travelling Mariners.

The Taxman has the AA directions but mucks it up. Ground one out of fifty and we are already lost. I immediately pull into the side of the road and do a u-turn outside the Glasgow Rangers Supporters’ Club. There’s a shaven headed guy, with an earring through his nose, walking his two Pit-bull Terriers. I wind the window down but the two canine creatures are not too chuffed to see The Taxman back in town and lunge for his throat. I reassure a shaken Taxman that we’ll have a brandy on arrival at the ground. Thankfully they haven’t scratched “our” new car.

The Rockingham Triangle Sports Stadium is not dissimilar to Grantham Town’s ground. It has a large, fine, main stand, but no other covered or standing areas. An athletics track runs around the perimeter of the pitch. The stadium was opened in 1985 by Neil Kinnock.

Corby is in Northamptonshire and has a population of 55,000. It drew a large amount of steelworkers from the depressed area of the west of Scotland in the early 1930s. In 1950 it was designated a new town. By the mid-eighties it was a ghost town, courtesy of Mrs Thatcher and her butcher American friend Sir Ian MacGregor. The steelworks were closed. At least a regeneration package enabled the council to build marvellous amenities like this. Bristol Rovers captain Stuart Campbell was born in the town and played for Corby Town junior teams. Republic of Ireland internationals Eddie McGoldrick and Mark Lawrenson have both played for the club.

Grimsby is in north-east Lincolnshire and has a population of 87,000. Famous people from Grimsby include: actress Michelle Dotrice and maverick footballer and one of Cloughie’s favourites, the Mini-jumping and golf ball throwing Duncan McKenzie.

The Steelmen are currently enjoying their 60th anniversary. It’s £8 entry and £1.50 for a cracker of a programme. It’s full of up to date player profiles for both teams. Graham Drury is their manager and he has brought one or two from his previous club Stamford. His assistant Paul Holden has a M.B.E. for services to football.

Frank Sinatra belts out a bit of swing on a placid summer evening. Normality is resumed when the DJ slips on an R “n” B track.

We choose to watch the game opposite the main stand and perch ourselves on an elevated piece of ground. There’s a sign saying it’s illegal to do so, but I can’t see some old, stuffy, cantankerous FA official having the energy to walk all this way around the ground to object.

The two teams have agreed to select different starting elevens for each half to save on the disruptive substitutions you often see in friendlies.

The Steelmen open the scoring inside two minutes. A corner is pinged in from the Corby right hand side, where former Notts County defender Mark Warren plants a looping header into the top corner of the goal.

There’s the persistent droning noise of a motorbike from the nearby racetrack. The Mariners are also in second gear. They look in need of a game and struggle to get Nottingham born Alan Buckley’s trusty passing game going. He was once manager of the Imps and performed a miracle to save us from relegation one season. But we got fed up with the triangular passing pattern.

Former Leicester City player Jon Stevenson is keeping the Grimsby defence on their toes. He reminds me of Nottingham Forest’s David Johnson with his pace, movement and touch.

Grimsby striker Danny North misses a sitter for the visitors and the ginger haired Paul Bolland flashes a header wide from a corner. “We never score from a corner” roars out from the travelling contingent. There’s no inflatable Harry Haddocks or “Sing When We’re Fishing.” The Corby supporters respond with renditions of theme tunes from “The A-Team” and Steptoe and Son.

The Steelmen move the ball around nicely and are dangerous in the final third. They are good value for their lead. Grimsby, like a lot of Buckley’s teams, lack a cutting edge.

The Taxman is clearly still traumatized by earlier events in the evening, and is now buying me a cup of tea and sausage roll. He turns down my offer of a hot dog. We have a short wait as the ball boys are given complimentary hot chocolates. We collect our thoughts and give the tea 7.5 out of 10.

Tony Battersby, the Corby substitute, hasn’t time to join me for a Pukka Pie, as he’s on duty in the second period. I’m still baffled how this guy has made a living from the game and fetched over £500,000 in transfer fees. He’s already on his fifteenth club. And only 32 years old.

We are perched up in the main stand now, where the view is more panoramic. Both sets of supporters are in fine voice. There’s plenty of banter.

A text comes through on 56 minutes Sticky junior has took 2-7 off three overs for Plumtree CC. Both he and “The Skipper” have played cricket every night this week.

Grimsby look sharper in the second period. Only Newey and Tilley have shone previously. But Hegarty gives them balance and width. They miss chances galore.

Corby are exciting on the counterattack and the home faithful sense a second: “Irn Brew Irn Brew come on Corby give us two.” Last season’s leading scorer Steve Diggin obliges, latching on to a though ball after good work by ex-Nottingham Forest trainee Robert Hughes. His low drive goes in off the post. He scored 30 goals in the British Gas Premier League last season and The Steelmen have done well to retain his services.

The visitors respond almost immediately when James Hunt's cross is side-footed home by Bore.

By now the Black Sheep Bitter and half-time cuppa is beginning to take its toll: we’ve a 40 mile journey home. There’s two minutes to go in a game going nowhere. Plenty of pretty passing but hardly a decent tackle all night. We retire to a very smart Gentleman’s’ Room. There’s a huge cheer from above; The Steelmen have scored again. Worse than that, lower league journeyman Tony Battersby has scored a rare goal.

We’re gutted we’ve missed a goal, but have watched an enjoyable and incident free game.

The night is finished off with a pint of Wainwright at The Plough Inn at Normanton-On-The-Wolds.

Corby Town 3 Warren, Diggin and Battersby Grimsby Town 1 Bore

Attendance: over 200

Man of the Match: Jon Stevenson.

The Groundhopper is Back on July 16th

2008-06-25T18:45:00.011+01:00

At Corby Town v Grimsby Town

July 19th Leamington v Newport County

This season's cast will include:

Sticky Palms
Mrs P
Sticky Junior
The Skipper
Barthez

Boss Hogg

Finley Palmer (Our pet Rabbit and my soul mate)
Garts
George and Mildred (miserable next door neighbours from Luton)

Glocko

Homebird
Screats

Screats's Dad
White Van Man (WVM)
The Angler
The Architect
The Auctioneer
The Comedian
The Factory Manager
The Flying Scotsman
The Nuclear Scientist

The Prof
The Reaper
The Ribbonmaker
The Taxman

Happy Father's Day

2008-06-15T20:18:00.000+01:00

List of New Grounds to Visit to the Left

2008-05-26T13:59:00.001+01:00

Back in July for a few pre-season friendlies.

Leek Town 1 Eastwood Town 3

2008-04-28T22:09:00.017+01:00

We woke up Wednesday to the tragic news that there had been a death in the family. Max and Paddy are no more; well Max is no more. He was only two and was found floating on top of his goldfish bowl at 7am on April 23rd. There were no suspicious circumstances. I carried out the post-mortem and filleted the little fellow myself. Cause of death: drowning.

Keyworth Utd U10’s raised the bar once again this morning. They played the perfect game in the YEL Cup Final at nearby Gotham United FC. They completely bamboozle and bewilder a team from Mansfield. Bless them, they looked frightened to death.

I had a close scare with food poisoning whilst at the final. The burger I purchased for £1.40 ought to have found its way to the Trading Standards people. It was nearly as bad as the burger served up and chewed on by White Van Man at Matlock Town FC a few months ago.

I leave the boys to their cup celebrations and head off to the car park of the Sun Inn. I meet up with White Van Man, but there’s no time for a refreshing pint of Everards Tiger; we’re off to Leek, Staffordshire.

There’s an incredible choice of games to choose from today. A glance at the Unibond Premier League table suggests that two teams from a possible ten will fight to avoid the dreaded drop today.

Eastwood Town need a win to secure a play-off spot. Opponents Leek Town require one point to guarantee safety. They could even lose and still stay up.

Screats’ dad is driving; his son Ian plays for the Badgers. We’re speeding down the A50 towards Stoke. We pass a Renault Megane driven by an incredibly attractive dark haired young lady. WVM is having palpitations. “She’s a bit rowdy” is his trademark comment.

Thankfully there’s no Heart FM on the car radio; we listen instead to Chelsea v “United.” WVM is giving it the big un that he’s blagged some tickets for the Barcelona clash on Tuesday night; he soon shuts up when Ballack puts Chelsea one up.

We’ve come off the A50 and are travelling towards Leek. We hit a place called Meir; I saw their football team play in September. My God, it’s a depressing, run-down area. Pub after pub is boarded up, the only business that appears to do a roaring trade are the suntan salons.

We trawling down the streets of Leek; it’s a charming town. There’s a shirtless beast of a man strolling down the road, he has a huge tattoo that covers his back. He gives us directions to the ground; we all say thank you!

Leek has a population of 20,000 and lies on the River Churnet. Love cheat Anthea Turner is from the area. She broke the hearts of Radio DJs Peter Powell and Bruno Brookes. Big Eamonn Holmes didn’t mess about; he soon arsed her off GMTV. Her fall from fame has been spectacular; I’ve not even seen her on Sky TV.

Leek Town were formed in 1946. Paul Ogden is joint manager at the club; it’s his fifth spell in charge.

It’s £7 admission (I treat Screats’ dad for driving) and £1.20 for a great value programme. It’s full of articles, profiles, tables, squad stats and a review of the season. It also has a great quiz question: Who is the only outfield player to have played EVERY minute of his team’s Premier League games this season?

Harrison Park has an old school feel about it and is saturated in glorious spring sunshine. An old elevated main stand runs along the touchline. The ground is surrounded by housing and the odd factory.

The pitch doesn’t look great; I should think the final run-in at nearby Uttoxeter Racecourse is in better condition.

The music is drab and dreary. The PA announcer is a 80s fan. He plays Big Country, Meat Loaf, Rod Stewart and Status Quo. It’s hardly the music to pump up the players for a relegation battle. A bit of Prodigy or Chemical Brothers might have been more apt.

The Badgers make a flying start. They don’t waste time in taking the lead. Full back Ricky Hanson hits a delightful curling 20 yard free-kick into the top left hand corner of the goal.

Leek, like Eastwood are quite direct. They are looking to play the ball into the corners in an attempt to win throw-ins. They have two guys who can hurl a ball onto the penalty spot. Eastwood defend manfully. Walshaw and Colin “Junior” Daniel (a former Badger on loan from Crewe) end the half strongly. They are unfortunate to be a goal down and get very little from a young referee.

We’ve been stood to the left of the Leek dugout. There’s a little old bloke stood in the technical area. He’s wearing a crumpled old suit and what little hair is left on his head is windswept. He’s a jibbering wreck,continuously chewing gum, swigging Lucozade from a plastic bottle and wiping beads of sweat from his ageing forehead. It’s Paul Ogden, and the guys going through hell. No wonder he resigned earlier in the season due to ill-health. The poor sod.

Leek Town are pumped up for the second period and play as if their lives depend on it, they are all over Eastwood like a rash. They are denied a penalty and Junior Daniel’s header is disallowed for offside. They finally get their just desserts on 53 minutes when Daniel pounces on a loose ball and smashes it home. They are rampant now and hunt for a second goal. But their parity only lasts a few minutes. Chris Shaw finally finds his radar and floats in an exquisite ball in from the left, Meikle is on to it in a flash, takes one touch and fires it towards goal, the keeper gets plenty on it but it trickles into an empty net. It’s harsh on the Blues.

The game is over as a contest on 65 minutes when a Shaw free-kick is diverted into his own net by joint manager Wayne Johnson.

Eastwood manager Paul Cox still has time to chew the referee’s ear off; he’s always chipping away. Both he and his assistant John Ramshaw have previously been on the Leek Town payroll; they are enjoying this hard earned victory.

They send on Iain Screaton to quieten down Leek danger man Junior Daniel. He scythes him down within minutes of entering the field of play. He is correctly cautioned; his dad and I have a good old chuckle.

Wayne Johnson has had a wretched afternoon and is finally substituted. He has come out second best with his tussle with Eastwood forward Matt Rhead. He has talked the talk in the local press but failed to walk the walk. He exchanges a few words with Ogden, and storms off down the tunnel, kicking a few objects on his way. His face is red with rage; he look like he’s been on a sun bed at one of the tanning shops in Meir.

Eastwood Town receive a standing ovation from the vocal travelling contingent. Leek Town fans are also in good voice; they believe they are safe. Robert Yong the likeable Eastwood Chairman walks his dog past us all. He poses for a photo (the dog, not the chairman.)

I arrive home and immediately log onto the Unibond Premier League final league table. Tragically Leek Town have been relegated on goal difference. Nearly all the basement teams have won. Nigel Jemson’s Ilkeston Town survive on goal difference after a four goal hammering at Whitby Town.

Leek Town 1 Eastwood Town 3

Attendance: 459

Man of the Match: Paul Mitchell

Quiz Answer: Stephen Kelly Birmingham City

Shepshed Dynamo 0 Nantwich Town 3

2008-04-21T20:19:00.010+01:00

It will be a game that lives long in the memory. Notts County’s Meadow Lane yesterday witnessed a game full of skill, passion, emotion and total football. Of course it wasn’t miserable moaning Minnie Ian McParland’s Pies on display, but of course Channel Four’s crap north-west soap Hollyoaks Showbiz X1. Over 3000 screaming girls witnessed a seven goal thriller at The Lane, as Nottingham’s AC Broxtowe stuffed the crap actors 5-2.

Sticky Palms arrived at the ground, for a wedding reception, as the hysterical teenagers were mobbed around the players’ entrance. I’ve got to admit I did look a tad Hollywoodesque in my new Italian number purchased from The Suit Shop at Macarthur Glen for £99. You could hardly blame these young girls for mistaking me for one of these soave and sophisticated actors. They were all a tad disappointed to see me drive away in my battered old Citroen.

I attended a schools tournament at Ruddington this morning; it was nice to see children enjoying their football and not have the pressure of playing for their club, with their parents breathing down their neck. I bumped into former Forest player and now Ilkeston Town manager Nigel Jemson. We had a quick chat; I didn’t want to bore the bloke to death. He was concerned that his injury-ravaged squad were being sucked into a relegation battle. He’s normally cocksure, today he look worried.

I’m driving down the A6006 towards Hathern, the home of legendary groundhopper Richard Panther. I’m currently reading his book Dennis the Astronomer; it’s superb!

I hook up with The Auctioneer at the Pied Bull in Shepshed. We discuss “Dirty Dirty Leeds” pending appeal over a pint of Hook Norton. It’s spoilt by the dreadful I Have a Dream by Abba in the background.

The Auctioneer claims to have past the ground on the way in so I follow him back into town. The clown takes us up a one-way street, the wrong way!

Butt Hole Lane is in millionaires’ row. I park outside a mansion and I’m guided into a parking space by a very courteous club official. Across the road is the Black Swan pub; in hindsight I wish we’d gone there now.

It’s £6 entry and another £1.50 for another delightfully put together programme. I also purchased a raffle ticket off a very nice lady. I don’t know why as I’ve never won one all season.

I love this ground, it ticks all the right boxes. Martin O’Neill cut his management teeth here many moons ago.

Nantwich Town were formed in 1884. They won the FA Vase in 2006. They play at the Weaver Stadium, which is a brand new four million pound complex. The playing surface has been wretched and may have cost them a consecutive promotion.

There’s a good turnout of Dabbers today, as they aim to secure a play-off spot. I saw them back in October football Retford Town off the park for 45 minutes; they were hanging on for dear life at the end. I’m looking forward to seeing young winger Ashley Carter perform today.

We take a stroll around The Dovecote ground; both teams have hung up numerous flags. We poke our heads in the social club. I notice an old programme is printed and pinned to the wall. It shows the line-up from an FA Cup tie between Shepshed Charterhouse and Preston North End. Denis Jenas played that day for Shepshed; his son Jermaine plays for Tottenham Hotspur.

I will be forever indebted to the Shepshed committee member who I came across on my last visit. He told me I must take time out to watch Cammell Laird. It was the best bit of advice that anyone in Non-League football has given me.

Shepshed Dynamo have fallen on hard times. Manager Lee Wilson has been drafted in from Northern Counties East team Gedling Town. He’s brought half the squad with him. He’s performed a miracle to stabilise this club with limited resources, but it’s a big step up for some of these boys.

The Shepshed public address announcer has clearly been in his loft and dusted down a few old CD’s. We are treated to Don’t Cry for me Argentina by David Essex and Oxygen by Jean-Michel Jarre. He saves his joker for half-time.

There’s a stiff cold breeze and a cloudy grey sky. Dynamo elect to kick with the wind. We take our place to the left of the Nantwich bench.

It’s pretty uninspiring stuff for the first 45 minutes. There are a couple of old guys next to me who are taking the rise out of Shepshed ‘keeper Gary Hateley. I did notice on the Dynamo player profiles that Hateley was into fashion. These two jokers next to me claim that Hateley wants to fit a mirror to one of his goal posts and that he also likes to comb his hair in between crosses. The Auctioneer and I are in stitches.

What Dynamo lack in class and style they make up for in endeavour and hard graft. Millns and Saunders do well in a competitive opening. But for all their huff and puff Dynamo lack quality in the final third.

Nantwich look uncomfortable and become frustrated. They can’t get their two wingers into the game. I notice their Hungarian left back Gyorgy Kiss has played in the Champions League and UEFA Cup. Captain Phil Parkinson is absent today; he was very influential in their win at Retford.

The highlight of the half is on 32 minutes when The Auctioneer, cigarette and lighter battle against a fierce wind.

Now I have trawled my way to over 50 games this season, but it has took until Saturday April 19th to hear the worst song on any PA system. The Shepshed man on the mike must be the biggest practical joker in the shire; I cannot believe my ears. The song reached number 31 in June 1979 and is called Head Over Heels in Love. It’s by none other than Newcastle boss Kevin Keegan.

The PA guy is now in overdrive. There’s no love lost between Shepshed and Quorn. He tells the crowd three times that Quorn are losing 2-0 at Kidsgrove; it’s very amusing.

We have a cup of tea, a pie and a pasty. The tea is poured from an urn. We mark it with a seven, but give ten out of ten for the friendly service. As per usual I’m nowhere near on the raffle.

Nantwich kick with the wind and look a different prospect. Hateley is caught in no-man’s land, Nantwich forward Kinsey forces the ball back into the six yard area, and it’s headed into his own net by Norwood.

Andy Kinsey is running the show. He may look like a fat version of Steve Claridge but he also possesses the same work ethic. His run off the ball takes away two players, leaving space for Beasley to run into, Griggs plays him in and he finishes smartly.

Kinsey wraps things up on 90 minutes smashing the ball home from the edge of the area. “He’s fat, his round, he’s worth a million pounds.” The Dabbers salute their hero.

I ‘m driving home and hearing that things are hotting up at the bottom of League 2 (Division 4). Notts County have lost and Mansfield Town have won. The Stags entertain Rotherham United next week. Now that will be a game.

A very tired and emotional Glocko rings from Birkenhead; Cammell Laird have been promoted to the Unibond Premier League.

Shepshed 0 Nantwich Town 3 Norwood (og) Beasley and Kinsey.

Attendance: 171 (probably 50 from Nantwich)

Man of the Match: Andy Kinsey.

Quorn 1 Cammell Laird 2

2008-04-15T18:19:00.009+01:00

It should have been a weekend double-header watching the beautiful and majestic boys in blue from Birkenhead near Liverpool: Cammell Laird FC. Mrs P has finally put her foot down and scuppered all my plans of sloping off to Spalding United; she’s off shopping. Naturally I’m disappointed, but I’ve no complaints. Let’s face it; I’ve racked up some matches this season.

It’s Saturday lunchtime and I’m with a few friends at the Nottingham Forest Academy. Youth Cup finalists Manchester City U18s are on show today. Forest give them a game in the first 45 minutes. The second half, however, is an onslaught. The visitors are not flattered to win 4-1.

Throughout the afternoon I’m updated with score flashes from the Lincolnshire fens by Cammell Laird Programme Editor Paul Mcloughlin (Glocko) Crowd favourite and wing wizard Eddie Jebb ensures victory, with a last gasp goal

.

On Saturday night the players stop over at the Holiday Inn near East Midlands Airport, whilst the fans stay close by at the Travelodge at Lutterworth.

Cammell Laird FC have been thrown a lifeline, runaway leaders Retford United have failed the ground grade inspection, required to enter the Unibond Premier League; they will not be eligible for promotion.

It’s Sunday and the Lairds play their second game in twenty four hours in the picturesque setting of Quorn in Leicestershire.

It’s just over a year since my last visit where I witnessed a storming FA Vase tie against Stratford Town. Quorn won 2-1 that day, but have since changed managers twice. They have also lost defensive lynchpin Robert Betts, who has immigrated to Australia.

Quorn FC were formed in 1924. Former players include Dion Dublin and Charlton Athletic’s Luke Varney. When Quorn sold Varney to Crewe for £2,500,000 there was a 25% sell-on clause. It was bingo for the little Leicestershire club when Varney was transferred to The Valley. The money has been used wisely by Chairman Stuart Turner and his committee. They have almost finished the completion of a covered terrace behind the goal.

White Van Man is driving, and we are joined on his debut today by The Reaper. WVM has had his Sunday lunch and will not be partaking in the fine cuisine available in the Quorn clubhouse.

It’s £6 entry and £1.50 for the programme. I finally meet up with Glocko. He’s a bit of a Jasper Carrott lookalike. He got me a programme, as they sold out at 1pm and has also brought me some goodies down from the north-west. He’s a top lad.

I’m not ashamed to say the the Lairds are my favourite Non-League team. They pass the ball quickly and with purpose. They look to get the ball wide and play a crisp passing game. I saw them put in slick performances at Belper and Eastwood last season. Star performers Jamie McGuire and Ronnie “Rocket“ Morgan have both flown the nest.

The threatened heavy downpours never arrive. All credit to the Quorn ground staff; the pitch is in perfect nick. The PA system is crystal clear as the players run out to Get It On by T-Rex.

We stand to the right of the Lairds’ dugout. Eddie Jebb’s ball skills and trickery are already causing endless entertainment for the fans who sit in the stand on the far side of the ground. He’s upended in the early stages; it’s a cast-iron penalty. Former Buxton striker Mark Reed puts his spot kick too close to the Quorn ‘keeper, who beats it away.

Quorn are not as slick as they were on my previous visit, and try to get the ball forward quickly. The orange booted Liam Hearn is impressive, and works the channels well in the final third of the pitch. His partner today is former Lincoln United striker Justin Jenkins; White Van Man is not a big fan. He is forced to choke on his free peanuts at the bar, when on half an hour Jenkins rises unchallenged to head home a corner.

The Lairds look weary from yesterday’s excursion. They are seriously under the cosh as Quorn try to grab the initiative. Despite the efforts of the visitors nothing is really happening. They restore parity on 42 minutes with a smart finish from former Northwich Victoria striker Ian Cooke, who has won everything in the air today, following a cross by Chris Adamson. The Reaper comments that Adamson reminds him of former Runcorn and Forest winger Ian Woan.

I notice that Quorn’s Assistant Manager is ex-Notts County defender Charlie Palmer. The Notts County roadside used to sing to him: “We’ve got Charlie Palmer he smokes marijuana la la la la.”

It’s a cold Guinness for The Reaper and me and a cup of tea for WVM. The barman is an elderly chap with a few interesting tales to tell.

Glocko’s phoning my mobile, he’s asking me where I am. He’s waving at me, I don’t recognise him as he’s now sporting a seventies wig. We watch from the clubhouse as Mark Reed is sent clear, only for him to dwell on the ball too long and allow the defence to recover.

I decide to have a saunter round to the back of the goal where all the Lairds’ fans are standing. I’ve been chatting away for only a few moments to Glocko when once again Jebb races away down the wing, his cross finds an advancing Reed, who kills it stone dead and fires it out his feet. The Quorn ‘keeper blocks bravely but the ball spins up, trickles over the line and nestles into the bottom corner of the goal. I find myself jumping up and down. “We’re” 2-1 up.

The away support is in buoyant mood and Glocko’s lad is banging on his drum; I don’t think Ringo Starr need worry just yet. We show no mercy on the appalling kicking exploits of the Quorn goalkeeper. This guy can shank and slice a ball for Leicestershire. At least six goal kicks go straight out to touch. He’s quite a hefty guy too, perhaps he ought to attend a couple of fitness guru Rosemary Conley’s classes; she lives in the village.

Cammell Laird’s right back’s dad is walking towards the away end complete with Rastafarian hat and dreadlocks. He maintains that sub Chris Nezianya is really his lad not ex Bury defender Derek Ward. Nezianya comes on and is greeted with this little gem: “Nezy is a Scouser, Nezy is a Scouser, but he’s alright, but he’s alright."

Cammell Laird are run off their feet; there’s very little left in the tank. They are dropping deeper and deeper. Their coaches are being a bit hard on them now. The two centre-halves are getting some grief, but have been magnificent. What a box of tricks Eddie Jebb has up his sleeve. But it is their number eight who has been star man today. His name is Joe Gibiliru and he has covered every blade of grass for his team.

The final whistle is celebrated like a cup final win. Six points in two days edges them ever closer to the Unibond Premier League.

We clap the players off and I say cheerio to Glocko and the boys. What a fantastic day out, both sides have played their part in an entertaining game.

Welbeck Welfare 0 Ollerton Town 2

2008-04-06T16:06:00.006+01:00

It’s a filthy morning. I’m stood behind the goal at Dunkirk FC, on the banks of the River Trent. It’s driving down with rain. “The Skipper’s team are in cruise control mode. They are unbeaten in the league since September. Today they win 2-0; it could have and should have been more. Six of the boys perform at their optimum level. When they play like this they are untouchable. I feel privileged to have once been part of this. But I will never ever coach kids’ football again.

It’s Grand National day and yours truly has been dispatched up to the local bookies. “The Skipper” thinks it’s his lucky day and has produced a “bluey” from thin air. I don’t hold out much hope. We lay out £11 in total.

Sticky jnr is unusually quiet today. Tomorrow he has a big cup semi-final, and it’s preying on his mind.

It’s the Abacus Lighting Central Midlands Football League Manor Pharmacy Premier Division for me today. (Try saying that when you are pished) It’s a 50 mile round trip to Meden Vale home of Welbeck Welfare FC.

I’m on my lonesome today; I sometimes like it that way. White Van Man is working at The City Ground, and both The Taxman and Nuclear Scientist, for their sins, have invested in season tickets. Quite frankly I’d rather sand down the skirting board than watch that lot.

It’s a hectic lunchtime; there’s a FA Cup semi-final and a high profile Premiership game on. I choose to listen to, instead, Radio Nottingham’s excellent Matchday programme. Their front man Robin Chipperfield is a smooth operator. He has all the reporters at the grounds in a spin with the fiendishly difficult football question: Which Premiership player has had the most touches of the ball this season?

I’m driving up the A60 through Mansfield and it seems like I’ve been in the car for ages. My sense of direction is appalling and I start to flap that I’ve missed a turning. I’ve brought no map and do not have the luxury of a Tom Tom. It’s just me and Sally Gunnell.

I finally see a sign for Meden Vale and throw a right hand turn. I played cricket at the back of Welbeck Colliery Miners’ Welfare about twenty years ago and wonder if that’s where they play football.

Mansfield Town prospective owner John Batchelor is talking on the radio. He is reviled in the town and has been subjected to vitriol from the natives in the past few weeks. He is complaining that he has had to pay for his car parking and matchday ticket for today’s game against Barnet.

I chance upon a chav strolling down the street. In between blowing huge amounts of smoke, from his rolled-up cigarette, towards my direction, he very kindly informs me that the ground is at the bottom of this cul-de-sac. It’s a grim, tough and uncompromising area of Nottinghamshire.

Parking is limited, but I manage to squeeze Sally between two cars. My new Krooklock, that Mrs P kindly bought for me, makes its debut.

The ground is tucked away in a valley. But it adjoins the most remarkable landmark I’ve seen football played at this season: a working coal mine. It immediately reminds me of Coalville Town’s ground.

Welbeck Colliery is one of the last few remaining mines in England. It probably only employs three or four hundred miners, but it is important to the economy of Meden Vale. It’s the second most dangerous job in the world: the most dangerous, of course, is playing alongside D***y County defender Claude “The Clown” Davis. That’s not good for anyone’s CV!

I’m sat in the car, there’s a huge hailstorm. Welbeck Welfare continue their warm-up routine; there’s no sign of table-topping Ollerton Town.

Welbeck Welfare Football Club were formed in 1991. They are mid-table but have scored an astonishing 91 goals. Sky TV should get their cameras down here as they have also let in 99. Unfortunately for Sticky Palms their leading scorer is at work today. I’m reliably informed it is 16 years since they have had a goalless draw.

I pay £2 admission and another quid for a well edited programme. I’m taking a few photos of Welbeck Colliery, when I’m pounced on by a little jolly fellow. His name is Rob Hornby and he organises the Central Midlands Football League Groundhop. He makes me very welcome and introduces me to the officials of Welbeck and Ollerton. He is with a guy called Rambler who is a groundhopper from Leicester.

I know one of the officials today. I used to “work” with linesmanTommy Sears when I pen-pushed at Calverton Colliery years ago. He was a useful goalkeeper in his day.

Ollerton Town are awarded a penalty in the first minute. It’s put away with ease by their number ten Dean Hankey. No chance of a 0-0 today. I text White Van Man immediately at the Nottingham Forest Ticket Office.

Ollerton make an assertive start and swarm all over the home defence. They are looking to fill their boots. There are already gaping holes in the Welbeck defence. But the Welbeck ‘keeper is in fine fettle. Injuries disrupt the game and Ollerton have to make two substitutions. It affects their game. Woeful finishing means that Welbeck are still in the game at the break.

Rambler and I have had a stroll around this charming ground and have perched ourselves at the top of a grass bank; it’s the perfect vantage point. We get some cracking photos of the game with the colliery as a backdrop.

I treat my new friend to a cup of char. It comes in a mug and is only 50 pence. I’d mark it 8.5. We notice Welbeck’s number nine pop out of the changing rooms for a crafty fag. He only comes alive when the ball arrives at his feet.

Ollerton get frustrated in the second-half and spurn further chances. Welbeck look like they have a goal in them but fail in the final third.

The Ollerton left-back is a useful player, he’s played in down the left hand side and has the chance to shoot, he cleverly drills the ball across the face of goal, Dean Hankey is lurking at the far post and scores his second of the afternoon.

I’ve had an enjoyable afternoon with Rambler, he’s tipped me off about some good grounds to visit in Leicestershire; I’m only ten minutes from the border. We arrange to meet again. I bid farewell to Rob Hornby.

I’m driving back through Mansfield. “Harchester United” fans are pouring out of Field Mill. They look despondent and dejected. They have thrown away a two goal lead. Barnet’s equalizer is a bitter pill to swallow as it’s scored by a former Stags player. Their final game of the season is at Dagenham and Redbridge. It could be the biggest game of their history. The Groundhopper might take that one in.

Next week my all-time favourite Non-League team Cammell Laird are in town. They play Spalding on Saturday and Quorn on Sunday. I’m tempted to go to both. Don’t tell Mrs P though!

Quiz answer Gael Clichy
Welbeck 0 Ollerton Town 2

Attendance: about 30, at least 15 from Ollerton.

Man of the Match: Welbeck ‘keeper.

Buxton 0 Fleetwood Town 2

2008-04-03T23:04:00.010+01:00

I feel no guilt in slipping away from the family tonight. Tuesday is what I call “Mrs P’s Tic Tac Toe Night” EastEnders, Holby City and Hotel Babylon. The boys will watch the Champions League.

The Nuclear Scientist picks up The Taxman and Sticky Palms at 6pm on the dot. It’s a one hundred and thirty mile round trip. We avoid the rush-hour traffic by driving down the A50 and cutting across the A515, through Ashbourne, and onto Buxton.

It’s twenty years since I came to this spa town; I brought Mrs P here for a weekend, and stopped in The Pavilion Gardens. My favourite band, Echo and the Bunnymen, played some awesome gigs in the town back in the early eighties.

Buxton is in Derbyshire and lies on the River Wye. It has a population of 25,000. Famous people born in the area include: Tim Brooke-Taylor, Lloyd Cole, Bruno Langley (Todd off Corro) and the worst DJ in British history (apart from Jo and Twiggy off Trent FM) Dave Lee Travis. It is allegedly the highest market town in England, at an astonishing one thousand feet above sea level.

Buxton FC were formed in 1877 and play at Silverlands. Their ground, naturally, is the highest in the Football Pyramid.

I didn’t phone the ground to see if the game was on, as the weather has been glorious around our way. Amazingly, nearby Leek Town are called off tonight and the Silverlands surface is heavy and wet.

We park on a side street and follow the crowds to the ground. They are expecting below four hundred because of the United match. White Van Man has missed the trip and is slumped in his armchair.

It’s £7.50 admission and £1.50 for a top-rated programme; it’s a fine publication.

The clubhouse is modern and clean. Sadly there’s no hand pull ale on, so I settle for a can of Stella. Two Buxton fans chat away to us like long lost friends. They review their season and fill us in on the playing staff. But I know their team inside out; this will be the fourth occasion I’ve seen them perform. They are my favourite team of the season and their friendly fans live up to the billing.

Fleetwood are tonight’s visitors, and are in a rich vein of form. They are chasing league leaders Witton Albion hard, and have come for the win. Their town is well known for the throat lozenge Fisherman’s Friend.

It’s a blustery old night, and we elect to sit in the main stand, looking out into the Derbyshire hills, as night falls.

The Bucks kick with the wind. My main man and crowd favourite, Anton Foster is strutting his stuff in the centre of the park. He is the victim of a dreadful challenge after only a few minutes. He reacts badly and is lucky not to see yellow, unlike clumsy Fleetwood striker Phil Denney. The visitors are certainly keen to contain Foster and rip the shirt off his back; he plays the remainder of the game without a number on his shirt.

Cod Army midfielder and ex-Evertonian Jamie Milligan has caught The Taxman’s eye. He has two feet, is graceful on the ball and passes accurately on a gluepot of a pitch.

The Bucks are disappointing. On loan Owl Jason Bradley works his socks off. But I’ve never understood the over-inflated Non-League transfer fees paid for his partner Neil Ross. I’ve seen him for Ilkeston and Buxton, but he’s never floated my boat. He’s not particularly brave, or blessed with pace. It’s difficult to see what he really offers; I much prefer the honest endeavour of sub Paul Walker.

The highlight of the night is the snack bar. We all go for the hot pork pie with a drop of brown sauce; it’s a real treat, just like Fleetwood Town in the second-half. The cup of tea is delightful too. It’s poured from the pot and marked with an 8.5!

The Nuclear Scientist misses out on the first prize on the raffle by one ticket. White Van Man texts in to say “United” are one up; I really couldn’t give a toss. I’m amongst friends, at The Silverlands, Anton’s playing well and the game is evenly poised.

The guy we met in the bar tells me the Bucks will play better against the wind, as he’s reffed here for 25 years and knows all the contours of the pitch; he couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Fleetwood turn on the style. Milligan finds himself in acres of space on the left, and fires home. Shortly after Buxton fail to deal with a long throw from the left, Phil Denney makes no mistake from close-range. Buxton are dead and buried.

There’s a succession of substitutions as the game’s played out. The margin could have been much greater. Fleetwood Town are sublime and are superior to anything I’ve seen at this level.

On eighty five minutes, an old guy gets up and starts to walk towards the exit. He’s on crutches, but manages to cover the ground quicker and slicker than Bucks’ striker Neil Ross has all evening.

Buxton fall short tonight. Their defence have hardly won a header. Their tactics are direct and disappointing. But their club and fans are a delight.

There’s a small cheer on the way home; Forest have collected all three points at Brunton Park. It’s “Kids for a Quid” at the City Ground on Saturday, but I’ve not told the boys, as I’m off to Welbeck Colliery v Ollerton Town.

Buxton 0 Fleetwood 2 Milligan and Denney

Attendance: 364

Man of the Match: Jamie Milligan

Notts County 0 Mansfield Town 0

2008-03-31T18:53:00.015+01:00

I’m refreshed and revitalized after a four day break in Austria. My sister-in-law got married out there. It has a population of over eight million people, and its most famous includes: Mozart, Strauss, Franz Klammer, Arnold Schwarzenegger and the most despicable and evil man ever to have set foot on this planet, no, not Crawley Town’s manager Steve Evans, but of course Adolf Hitler

They don’t talk about Adolf much up in the Tyrol mountains, but I couldn’t help but laugh, whilst supping a fine litre of German beer up the mountain last week, when an Austrian woman, who had lost her child, was screaming at the top of her voice “Adolf Adolf.” No wonder the poor little bugger scarpered off.

I was going to sit in the away end today; I’m still cross that they closed the Notts County Centre of Excellence a few years ago. This club broke 120 young hearts; and showed little remorse. But The Angler is on board today, and he is a Pies fan and wants to sit in the main stand. He met his wife here 45 years ago. Sticky junior and “The Skipper” make a guest appearance.

I blagged a couple of freebies last season and saw County put in sterling performances against Lincoln and Walsall. Steve Thompson, in my opinion, was harshly sacked by the Pies. He was doing a decent job with limited resources and was forced to sell his best player in David Pipe, who is now having a successful time at Bristol Rovers..

I miss old Thommo’s razor sharp wit; we’re now stuck with two dour Scotsmen either side of the Trent. Notts appointed the management dream team of Ian McParland and David Kevan; the jury is still out.

The air hangs heavy over Meadow Lane right now.

Talking of dream team, Mansfield Town’s prospective new owner the cranky John Batchelor is toying with idea of changing the Stags name to Harchester United after the fictional Sky TV programme. It’s certainly whipped up a storm of publicity for the North Notts club.

They too, have had an eventful period. This week former Stag, the talented Paul Holland, was named as manager of the club. During the week he also released five players. Little loyalty was shown to likeable Lancastrian Billy Dearden; he was shown the door a few weeks back, despite a cash bonanza cup run; only narrowly ended by Gareth Southgate’s Middlesbrough.

We park in County Hall and troop across Trent Bridge, passing the Cricket Club and City Ground. The clouds are low and there is a steady drizzle of rain. We pass the now derelict Casa Bar and walk past one of Mrs P’s favourite establishments: Topknot Hairdressers. We snake through Turner’s Key and over the canal and past another abandoned public house: The Trent Navigation.

I pay a whopping £32 at the gate, £20 for me and £12 for the kids. It’s a further £2.50 for an average programme.

We’re sat in “A” Block on the edge of the eighteen yard area. The state of the pitch is atrocious. It’s by far the worst I’ve seen this season, and I include Leicester City’s Walkers Stadium in that. They’ll be no doubt blaming the ground share with Nottingham Rugby Club, but let’s face it; we’ve not had a harsh winter. There’s more sand on this surface than Skegness beach.

I notice Big Pos junior in front of me; he’s supported Notts all his life. It’s almost an art form the way he devours his Pukka- Pie and peas. He makes White Van Man look an amateur.

There is, as Colin Slater would say “drama at the lane” before the game. Notts ‘keeper Russell Hoult falls awkwardly whilst warming up. He is carried off and looks a certain non-starter. As a precaution Notts call up rookie ‘keeper Tim Sandercombe to the bench.

It’s five minutes before kick-off, the atmosphere is fever pitch. Mansfield have almost filled the old Spion Kop end and the County Roadside are in good voice. My phone goes off, it’s Mrs P, she’s in Sainsbury’s at Castle Marina. Do I want Abbotts or Bombardier in cans or bottles? I’m just about to watch the biggest game of the season and she comes up with this little conundrum. Bottles of course.

The Stags are magnificent in the first half, they football Notts off the park. County can’t get anywhere near ex-Manchester City midfielder Jonathan D’Laryea and the Irishman Stephen Dawson. Nathan Arnold on the left and Matt Hamshaw on the right cause problems for Notts with their pace. Skipper Jake Buxton is resolute at the heart of the defence.

In the early stages Dominican Republic forward Jefferson Louis forces the now fit again Hoult into a good save from a deft header. He’s had a somewhat chequered career, including thirteen clubs, and is still only 29.

Michael Boulding’s pace and trickery causes difficulties for Mike Edwards. He cleverly plays in Nathan Arnold, whose crashing shot comes back off the woodwork.

County are dire, truly awful. Their full-backs are short on pace, and the visitors exploit this. Before the break both Louis and Boulding have shots saved by Hoult. Edwards and Michael Johnson work overtime to keep their side in the game.

I’ve been watching the work rate of loan forwards Danny Crow and Ryan Jarvis. I’ve seen more movement from Big Pos eating his Pukka-Pie. Looking at Crow’s waistline, it would seem he’s shifted a fair few pies in his time. Jarvis, the big Southern Jessie, even sports a pair of gloves.

Due to a crackling PA system and a malfunctioning microphone we are unable to grab any half-time scores. It’s a cracking impersonation of Norman Collier. This once mighty fine club is dying on its arse.

I’ve spotted Burton Albion’s manager Nigel Clough in the stand; it looks like he’s checking out next year’s opposition. The Brewers play a beautiful game of football at The Pirelli Stadium, on a surface you could play Subbueto on. God only knows what he makes of the Meadow Lane pitch.

The kids are moaning more than Charlie McParland, they want some chips. I refuse point blank, and tell them if they don’t start behaving I’ll bring them down Notts again next week!

The second half is a drab affair, although Notts do improve slightly. Mansfield are disheartened not to have been ahead at the break. McParland squeezes the midfield.

Jason Lee and Spencer Weir-Daley are warming up, last season they scored 24 goals in this league, and yet they cannot force their way into one of the worst Notts teams I‘ve seen in years.

Weir-Daley is unlucky to see a shot deflected away for a corner. Mansfield come flying forward in a last ditch attempt to grab the points. Ex-WBA winger Simon Brown floats a cross in from the left, which Stags’ winger Matt Hamshaw blasts over from eight yards out.

The referee finally blows for time (thank God.) I’ve shelled out over thirty pounds, to watch a load of overrated journeymen serve up utter tripe. Notts have kept four consecutive clean sheets and are inching their way to safety. But poor old Mansfield are down on their luck today and look doomed.

Arnie Schawrznegger might be back, but I for one, won’t be.

Pies 0 Stags 0

Attendance: 10,027

Man of the Match: Jonathan D’Laryea

Loughborough Dynamo 1 Alvechurch 1

2008-03-23T11:20:00.011Z

The flag was at half mast at White Van Man’s abode this morning. His beloved, favourite food haunt, the White House Cafe, closes today. He devoured his final full English at 8am. I’ve promised to take him to a proper cafe next week.

It’s been a tortuous week on the television front; Mrs P has been in soap overdrive, thank God for Rob Grillio’s charming offering on the world of the footballing anorak. I’ve read this fine publication, whilst the good lady has trawled her way through the likes of Holby City, Holby Blue and Hotel Babylon.

I’ve promised Mrs P I’ll cook her a meal tonight, and rise early. I’m as fleet footed as Staveley Miners’ Welfare striker Lee Gregory, as I fly up and down the aisles at Morrisons, in pursuit of watercress and sea bass.

White Van Man has turned a freebie down at Villa Park to come on the hop today, The Taxman also gets his pass stamped.

I fancy another peek at Dynamo; they were very impressive last week. They are easily the best passing side I’ve seen at Step 5 level.

Loughborough is in Leicestershire and has a population of over 50,000. The town’s university is top rated and is famous for its sports scholarships. Sebastian Coe, Steve Backley and Paula Radcliffe have all studied there. Mrs P’s favourite, and top anorak, Roy Cropper was born in the town.

WVM’s mate Screats used to play for Dynamo, when he studied at the nearby university. I imagine the club must pick up a few young players this way. I also know my way to this ground like the back of my hand. Much to Mrs P’s displeasure, I spent three consecutive Sunday’s in a row, a few years back, tracking an Under 11 player at the club.

It’s a twenty five minute journey down the A60. As we enter the town we are met with a hail of smoke. I thought for a moment that Keyworth United reserve team manager Alan Jackson had lit up one of his legendary Hamlet cigars, but it is in fact an old steam train they are testing on a disused railway line.

We pull into Watermead Lane in plenty of time. I’m disappointed there’s no big sign saying ‘Welcome to Loughborough Dynamo Football Club.’ Loughborough Dynamo were formed in 1957.

It’s £5 admission and a further £1 for a gem of a programme. There are a couple of interesting articles written by two well known groundhoppers.

It’s straight into the bar for some light refreshment. Some guy has just scored for Spurs against Pompey, but I don’t even recognize him. It’s a tidy and busy bar. The walls are full of old photos and pendants.

It’s a cutting and biting wind out there today. WVM is wearing his Russian fur hat; he looks like one of Roman Abramovich’s bodyguards. We choose not to sit in the charming and unique stand behind the goal and choose instead to stand parallel to the eighteen yard area, with the wind behind us, and protected by a large fence.

Alvechurch look a very young team. They are managed by tough tackling former Sunderland and Grimsby Town player Shaun Cunnington. Ex-Arsenal and Leicester City striker Alan Smith began his career at the club. The guy next to me is a die-hard fan; his coat is covered in badges. He explains they are a bit short today, two lads are working, one has gone to Blackpool for the weekend and another can’t get a babysitter.

They should have taken the lead after five minutes. A cross from the right by Ferran is headed over from eight yards out by an unmarked Manning.

Dynamo soon begin to find their rhythm and play the fast flowing game I saw last week at Coalville. Karl Noble and Karl Brennan are pulling all the strings in midfield. But today they are trying to walk it into the net. Considering the amount of pressure they exert on the visitors defence, they have very few shots on goal.

WVM and The Taxman taunt me that it’s going to be 0-0. But there are goals in this game, something has to give.

I get the teas in at the break and what a cracking cuppa it is too. I’d rate it an eight again. I buy WVM a bacon cob for driving. I can’t say I actually saw the cob as it disappeared quicker than the Italian army in the Second World War.

Loughborough Dynamo turn on the style in the second period. Callum Riley is magnificent and has a tremendous first touch. He uses the ball intelligently and is roasting Alvechurch left back Jason Chiltern.

Leading scorer Kris Nurse has hit the net thirty times this season, but he’s having no such luck today. Alvechurch ‘keeper Joshua Coney beats away a rising drive from Nurse.
Alvechurch force a corner and Dynamo’s excellent goalkeeper Matt Nurse tips a point blank shot over the bar. Dynamo fail to heed that warning and are punished from the resulting corner.

Nobody picks up Alvechurch defender Sam Brooks and he heads home from close range.

Dynamo pile on the pressure but find the visiting ‘keeper in fine form. The Alvechurch bench are begging for the referee to blow for time. Dynamo are awarded a free-kick about 40 yards out, Karl Noble floats it into the box, where it skims off the head of Adam Hart and out of the reach of Joshua Coney and into the roof of the net. They have deserved their equalizer and I can’t believe some of the moans and groans that have come from a minority of the home support today. Their team have given everything and it is only because of anxiety and expectation that they haven’t won today.

Special mention for referee Mr J Glover of Nuneaton, he is easily the best official I’ve seen this season. He has played his part in an entertaining game, which was played in a good spirit.

Loughborough Dynamo 1 Hart Alvechurch 1 Brooks

Attendance: 92

Man of the Match: Sam Brooks.

Mickleover Sports 1 Winterton Rangers 4

2008-03-20T20:18:00.010Z

It’s the Easter holidays and Mrs P has took the kids to Asda to kill a bit of time, before her luncheon date at the pretentious haunt of footballers’ wives and peroxide blondes – Fire n Ice in West Bridgford. I take a call at work from a sobbing Sticky junior, he’s begging me for permission to buy 50 Cent’s latest offering. I tell him there’s more chance of me buying a D***y County replica shirt, with Claude Davis printed on the back, than allowing him to purchase that crock of crap. He lets rip with a verbal volley that the New York hip-hop star would have been proud off. It’s a straight red for junior.

There’s no White Van Man tonight, he claims to be playing table tennis again. Man United play Bolton at Old Trafford; it’s beauty versus the beast. Luckily The Taxman is in the swing of things; I pick him up at 6.40pm.

It’s a fairly uneventful journey down the A50 and A38. When we reach Mickleover we pull over and ask for directions to the Mickleover Sports Ground. We’re parked up in the spacious car park for 7.30pm.

Runaway leaders Winterton Rangers from Scunthorpe in Lincolnshire are in town tonight. They have plunged the NCEL into disarray by not applying for promotion into the Unibond League. It’s their second successive promotion. They have scored 89 league goals this season, at an average of three per game.

It’s £5 admission and another £1 for a top notch programme. I bump into the programme editor, and congratulate him on his fine publication. I also tell him he has way too much time on his hands.

Mickleover is a suburb of D***y and is two miles outside the city centre. Tomorrow’s World presenter Judith Hann was born down the road in Littleover.

Mickleover Sports FC were founded in 1948. They share this complex with the cricket club. Along one side of the ground is a splendid three hundred seater cantilever stand.

There is a huge turnout of groundhoppers this evening. On Friday the Central Midlands League hold their annual groundhop. It’s a chance for groundhoppers of the world to unite and get a few grounds in. I have a chat with a guy from Beverley, who is in the area on business. He is, like me, not a proper hopper, but a lover of the beautiful game.

The game has a frenetic start. I’ve not seen anything quite as fast and furious as this since a Vase qualifier at Gedling Miners’ Welfare last September. The Winterton defence and midfield are all over the show. Their goalkeeper Ben Simpson looks a bag of nerves. This is evident on ten minutes when he has to deal with an impossible back pass; all he can do is head it straight to Mickleover’s Mark Finlay, who finishes superbly.

Winterton Rangers are not at the races, as their manager keeps saying “it’s too easy.” Mickleover miss out on a chance to make it two. There is a massive hole in the centre of the park, as both teams throw men forward; it’s like a cup-tie.

Winterton’s Nathan Would hoists a ball in from the right, so high, that when it comes down from the night sky, it has snow on it. The ball is nodded down for leading scorer Rob Northern to smash home.

Both goalkeepers are kept busy, as the shots come thick and fast. The game ebbs and flows. Shortly before the break Winterton’s David Watson makes it 2-1 after Mickleover fail to clear their lines.

We take a stroll to the Tea Bar at half-time. The Taxman hasn’t lost his touch and chats up a rather posh lady, who originates from Stamford, but now resides in nearby Burton. She appears more suited to the horse and hound fraternity.

There’s a noisy groundhopper queuing up for a brew. He shouts out loudly, to anyone prepared to listen, that this is the best game he’s seen this week; it’s only bloody Wednesday.

The second half is one-way traffic. Winterton Rangers prove to all and sundry why they are top of the tree. They are a youthful outfit, who shrewdly pick up young lads rejected by the likes of Scunthorpe, Grimsby and Hull. They remind me of Staveley Miners’ Welfare, who I saw a few weeks ago.

Their best player on show tonight is leading scorer Rob Northern. He is a chaser of lost causes and is nimble-footed. He harries and harasses the Mickleover defenders for the entire evening. Northern sets up Watson for his second of the night with a slide rule pass. His partner Holt’s persistent is rewarded, following more hesitancy in the Mickleover defence, to put the game well and truly to bed.

Winterton have been worth the sixty mile worth trip, and we talk of nothing else, during our pint and a half at The Plough at Normanton-on-the-Wolds, after the game.

Mickleover 1 Finlay Winterton 4 Watson (2) Northern and Holt.

Attendance ? Nearly all hoppers

Man of the Match: Rob Northern.