I'm a director of Maidenhead United Football Club.
For ten seasons one of my roles at the club was to produce the match programme.
The aim of this blog was to write football related articles for publication in the match programme. In particular I like to write about the representation of football in popular culture, specifically music, film/TV and literature.
I also write about matches I attend which generally feature Maidenhead United.
The busy festive schedule always presents an opportunity to visit a new ground providing the weather is reasonable and the decision of the Football League to move their entire Christmas weekend programme from Saturday to Sunday offered ample choice. I plumped for a first ever trip to Teesside along with my friend, chauffeur and Reading season ticket holder Dave.
The stormy weather which has engulfed England recently fortunately abated for the day to present ideal driving conditions for the elementary route up the M1/A1. The dual carriageway which scars its way through the town of Middlesbrough deposited us right outside the Riverside stadium with time enough to take a short detour to the suburb of North Ormesby to find free parking and a pleasant walk towards the ground.
The Riverside
Middlesbrough is England's great nearly club. More successful in my lifetime than illustrious neighbours Newcastle United and Sunderland but without their status. For me the 'Boro's Cinderella sterotype is summed up by George Camsell's record breaking season of 1926/27 when he scored 59 goals, a record that stood for just twelve months before it was beaten by Dixie Dean by just one goal, the latter's mark of course standing almost certainly in perpetuity.
Gates open to all
The Riverside boasts that its the country's first new stadium built to the specification required by the Taylor report. The location is ideal being just a short walk from the town centre with a magnificent backdrop of the famous Transporter bridge. The main entrance is protected by the iron gates from Ayresome Park, infamously locked in 1986 when the club nearly went out of business, the gates themselves watched over by perhaps the 'Boro's two greatest players Wilf Mannion and George Hardwick.
Wilf Mannion
George Hardwick
A wander around the ground revealed evidence that industry still exists in Middlesbrough, along with the entrance to the Willie Maddren Education Centre before the familiar sight of the Horseman coaches came into view to signpost the entrance to the away section.
The Secondary Sector
One reason why I could not attend Football League matches every week is the predominance of all seater stadia, particularly those newly built in out of town locations. The impossibility of rolling out of a cosy pub and passing through the turnstiles onto a terrace, packed or otherwise is the reason why. Yes the sightlines from the seats might be great, the beer and food in the ground reasonably priced and of fair quality, but the cavernous concrete areas under the stand, the rows of empty seats on top and the need to manufacture an atmosphere means attending football at this level is a thoroughly uninspiring experience.
The game at the Riverside ticked all these boxes. The lager was flowing at (Southern) pub prices which you could drink whilst watching the live game on TV. The local speciality of a Parmo (chicken schnitzel topped with cheese) was possibly the best thing I've ever eaten in a football ground if that's not damning it with faint praise. The 195 (great individual commitment but collectively poor) travelling Reading fans were confined to a small block in the North East corner of the ground, resembling a dark button on a festive red winter coat, surrounded by empty seats in a ground that was less than half full. The North stand ultras to our left tried their best to create an atmosphere but from where we were sat it felt like we were looking in to the match rather than part of it as I'm sure would have been the case at Ayresome Park with a 16,000 crowd.
There was little for Reading fans to get excited about throughout the ninety minutes. Both clubs have new managers committed to playing football but it was Aitor Karanka whose values paid the greatest dividend with a comfortable 3-0 win taking advantage of some powder puff Reading defending to take a two goal lead into half time.
This state of affairs was exemplified by the goal of the game which gave 'Boro the lead in the twelfth minute. A long ball into the box by Emmanuel Ledesma was headed down by Lukas Jutkiewicz into the path of Albert Adomah who drilled his shot into the back of the net, a training ground move aided by the lack of challenge from the opposition. Jobi McAnuff almost conjured up an equaliser when he dribbled through the 'Boro defence only for his shot to be saved by the experienced goalkeeper Shay Given. This proved to be the closest Reading came to scoring, the poverty of the Royals' attacking play punished with nine minutes to go before half time when Grant Leadbitter was given the time and space to pick his spot and fire home the hosts second goal from fully twenty five yards.
After the break, Reading at least showed the determination to get back into the game but their comeback was almost over before it began when a reckless challenge from Casper Gorkss led to his second caution to reduce the Royals to ten men. The three points were sealed in the dying minutes when Leadbitter scored from the penalty spot after Ledesma had been brought down by a clumsy challenge from Alex Pearce.
This was the third win in a week for Middlesbrough who look set to soon pass a moribund Reading team in mid table as the Basque Karanka mounts a possible play off bid.
It seems odd to say it now, but there was a time when going to watch a football match was a simple leisure pursuit, something to do in your spare time, rather than the lifestyle choice replete with rights and responsibilities which appears to be the case nowadays.
So it came to pass that me and a group of school friends started to watch Reading FC in the late 80s. Of course we all supported big teams for me it was Arsenal, for Dave QPR, Simon was Manchester United and most importantly for the start of this story James was Leeds United. All about the age of 15, we had the freedom, if not the money to do what we wanted with our Saturday afternoons and for a variety of reasons many of which I forget we started to spend them at Elm Park.
Attending Desborough School, it was likely that we heard that you could go and watch Division Two football for a £1 at Elm Park from one of our many peers who lived in the Twyford/Wargrave area under a scheme known by the acronym SAFE, where seats in the block nearest the Tilehurst End were sold for a pound. Certainly we weren't going out of any affinity to the Royals, indeed what united us was the fact that in an ideal world we would go and watch our own teams but with no one else to go with had to settle for a club that no one had anything against if not anything much in favour.
Despite growing up only twelve miles from Reading and spending much time in the town shopping or playing cricket the football club was something of a mystery. Like every schoolboy I knew three facts: they played at Elm Park, they used to be know as the Biscuitmen, and in 1985 had grabbed the national headlines by smashing Spurs record for consecutive wins from the start of the season. Other than that nothing. The ground was somewhere in the west of the town but I wouldn't have been able to pick it out on a map. I could name the odd player although of course the most famous one Trevor Senior, had recently departed, but realistically they might have played on a different planet. No one I knew in Maidenhead supported them or went to watch them play so it really was a journey into the unknown when James suggested we get SAFE membership and tickets for the visit of Leeds in December 1987.
The SAFE membership came in handy for this particular game as like all Leeds games at the time it was an all ticket affair.The rules were that anyone under 16 could join free of charge, and then buy tickets for a £1, as long as this was done before 11 am on the day of the match. This latter rule meant the odd early start and then a long time hanging around the town centre (often searching for vinyl treasure in Listen Records in the Broad Street Mall) waiting for 3 pm, but generally someone was able to get a load of tickets in advance anyway.
This would have definitely been the case on this occasion as we took the train to Reading which almost certainly Dave would have jumped on as it pulled out of the station such was his fine attention to detail when it came to timekeeping. We then made the first of many long walks down the Oxford Road with all its exotic sights and sounds, not least of which was the Lovecare sex shop.
I can remember little of the match itself which was settled by a John Sheridan penalty, indeed my only memory is of egging on James to run onto the touchline and pick up David Batty's discarded tie up (he didn't) but it must have made a sufficient impression on us all as over the next few seasons, as from this game on we all became regulars to a greater or lesser extent. Quite a few other friends were to join us at matches and I myself went on to be a season ticket holder in two seasons (1989/90 and 1994/95) whilst Dave remains a regular supporter right up to the present day, having held a season ticket for many years. All of which goes to show the value of these schemes, no matter how superficial they may appear.
Maybe it was simply the fact that Reading was a quiet unassuming club (Elm Park the least interesting ground in Britain at the time according to no less an authority Simon Inglis) or that there really was nothing better to do as a group of friends but we were all hooked, returning in the new year for the visit of Southampton in the FA Cup third round.
Oblivious to the fact that this was something of a derby the visit of Southampton offered a little glamour such was their status in Division One at the time wearing a bang on trend Hummel test card strip. In a tight game the Saints won by a single Matt Le Tissier goal in front of 11 and a half thousand. This mattered little to us though as two weeks later we were back for the visit of Shrewsbury, with Reading seeking their first league win in thirteen games.
This game against the Shrews typified the Reading experience and if anything signalled what was attractive about it. For some reason I chose rarely to buy a programme in my first two seasons watching Reading. In part this was due to the price which represented 70% of the cost of a ticket and thus I was at a loss when before the game we mingled freely with the players warming up in front of the stand (likewise at half time the stand would empty as smoking was banned in the wooden structure forcing everyone to puff away pitchside). Therefore unlike Dave I do not posses an autograph of Shrewsbury right back Wayne Williams. Thanks to a smart volleyed goal by Stuart Beavon and helped by a rare red card for opposition defender Richard Green, Reading won the game. This proved to be a rare three points in the fight against relegation.
Reading were in their difficult second season in only their second spell in Division Two, and having lost some key players in the summer were a team in transition. Initial replacements for Senior and Kevin Bremner, Francis Joseph and Colin Gordon were pale in comparison, resulting in a record breaking transfer fee being paid for Steve Moran, although his effectiveness turned out to be in inverse proportion to his growing waistline.More big money was spent to greater effect on the pacy centre back from Bristol City, future England cap, Keith Curle. The rest was a motley collection of journeymen, has beens and never weres, which could only in flashes lift themselves to produce the collective performance necessary to compete at this level. Some players I warmed to for example goalkeeper Steve Francis, full back Linden Jones and utility hard man Mick Tait. Others such as Les Taylor and Martin Hicks passed me by. The one stand out talent though for which it was worth turning out to see was the lightning quick left winger Michael Gilkes. He had pace to burn and even after breaking his leg at Southend a few years later returned to finish well in the nationwide sprint challenge. The "run, run, run, run, Gilkesy" was, along with the "you're so loud you sound like Aldershot" chant something that was definitively Reading regardless of the lack of achievement on the pitch.
As Winter turned into Spring, manager Ian Branfoot again raided the club funds to sign striker Billy Whitehurst, a footballer who seemed more animal than man. At least he was able to make his presence felt as Reading became if nothing else hard to beat as Bruce Rioch's Divison One bound Middlesbrough found out when they came to Elm Park in February and left with a point after a goalless draw.
Regardless of league form light relief was found that season in the form of the Simod Cup. This was a competition for Division One and Two clubs (official title Full Members Cup), notionally introduced to provide football in the absence of European football following the Heysel ban, yet subsequently boycotted by all the big clubs.
In the same way as the League Cup is treated today, the better teams fielded squad XIs and so my first trip to an evening game at Elm Park would be a quarter-final tie against Bradford City, reached after wins against Division One clubs QPR, Oxford United and Nottingham Forest.Despite an early setback when a lax back pass by Curle was punished by John Hendrie, Curle being roundly cursed for his error by the witches from MacBeth sat behind me, Reading equalised through Colin Bailie and won the tie in extra time with a goal from Dean Horrix to set up an Elm Park semi final tie against FA Cup holders Coventry City.
This match at the start of March saw seat tickets rapidly sell out which meant I had to double my outlay to £2 to secure a place on the Tilehurst End to watch Oggy, Speedie, Cyrille, Killer et al. At the time evening games at Elm Park kicked off at 8 pm, with the pressure of a fifteen and a half thousand crowd pushing the start back another fifteen minutes, a delay that would have consequences later on.
Neil Smillie gave Reading the lead early in the second half before David Speedie was given the opportunity to indulge in his favourite hobby of fence climbing by scoring the equaliser. This meant the game went into extra time and with no further score I was unable to stay for the climactic penalty shootout as I had to make the long walk back to the station to catch the last train back to Maidenhead just after 11 o'clock.
I reached home to the news that Reading had won their first semi final for sixty years and would therefore be going to Wembley for the first time in their history. At a time when the play offs were in their infancy this really was an achievement which necessitated a trip to the Post Office to withdraw £9 for a seat ticket, with a rosette purchased in the Butts market ahead of one of the home games in between.
What was ironic was that Reading had reached Wembley without their two first choice cup tied strikers in Moran and Whitehurst. Instead it was reserve Dean Horrix who led the way to Wembley, scoring three goals and despatching his spot kick against Coventry, only to be transferred to Millwall ahead of the final. Tragically Horrix, who grew up in Slough and played in the same Britwell boys team as Steve Richardson and Garry Attrell, was to die in a car accident two years later.
In the weeks leading up to the final Birmingham City and Aston Villa visited Elm Park, the former drawing a humdrum game 1-1 whilst champions elect Villa won comfortably 2-0 in front of a huge away support which ebbed and flowed throughout the game up and down the steepling away terrace.
Cup Final day came at the end of March with Reading given little chance against a Luton Town team poised to shock Arsenal with a sensational League Cup final win in April, and only bow out at the semi-final stage of the FA Cup to eventual winners Wimbledon. With Reading fielding a very makeshift strikeforce of Tait and Gilkes, it appeared to be a case of a simply enjoying the day out when Luton took an early lead.
Then roared on by a support which made up about two thirds of the 61,740 crowd (an astonishing number considering that barely 4,000 home fans went to Elm Park regularly), Reading swiftly overturned the deficit when Gilkes created the legend which led to the song "Gilkesy ran the Luton" as he firstly cut in from the left to score and then win a penalty converted by Beavon.
The second half saw further goals from Smillie and Tait to really cap a great day out, albeit one which proved to be the end of an era, the last flash of glory of the Branfoot regime, confirmed when old stagers Gary Peters and Jerry Williams came off the bench to end their Reading career by strolling around the Wembley turf.
Following the Wembley win the story should have ended with a successful fight against relegation, but the Royals could not reverse the downward league trend. The Simod Cup was paraded at the next home game against Ipswich, another draw of which the lasting memory was Whitehurst regularly laying out rookie Town defender Ulrich Wilson. Another draw on a warm April evening against fellow strugglers Bournemouth, reflected Reading's key problem of a lack of goals and so they were finally relegated in the final game of the season at home to Hull. By then I was back enjoying my summer passion of cricket, listening to the Royals demise on Radio 210, as I scored for Pinkneys Green at the Berkshire County Sports ground at Sonning Lane.
Relegation notwithstanding though, my friends and I would be back in the autumn for the delights of Division Three and ready to make our first visit to the Network South East South Bank enclosure.
Left it late for my annual visit to Craven Cottage this season but I was rewarded with an enjoyable day at the match which in the style at Fulham is how football ought to be. With opponents Reading already relegated this freed up the mind to focus purely on the game and forget what might be happening elsewhere. Indeed the end of season mania was firmly left in the pub pre match as we voyeuristically watched the final day of the Football League in the aptly named Temperance a hostelry just busy enough to enjoy a pre match pint with the buzz of football talk.
A brisk walk in the sunshine through Bishop's Park took me to the away end and a fixture I had regularly watched in the late 80s/early 90s in an altogether more sedate atmosphere. These games were played in Division Three before crowds around the 4,000 mark and were low scoring affairs, the faded glory of the Cottagers summed up by the minor celebrities such as the Oxo Dad and Duffy from Casualty brought onto the pitch to perform the half time draw, and the bitter men who stood in the paddock of the Stevenage Road stand next to the Cottage shaking their fists at the steepling open terrace of the away end.
Although the roof to cover the still temporary feeling seats on the terrace unfortunately obscures the view, at least it creates an atmosphere with the away fans buffered by the unique neutral zone. Freed from the worry of their fate, the Reading fans were determined to enjoy their day out by the Thames, creating a raucous atmosphere to which their team responded with their biggest win of the season. All this was in spite of the unnecessary attentions of the inappropriately named WISE stewards who seemed to spend most of the game trying to confiscate Mr Blobby.
Reading started the game in fine form, deservedly taking the lead from a Hal Robson-Kanu penalty. As the half drew on Fulham came in to the game but found their path to goal blocked by the outstanding Alex McCarthy who looks as though he may one day justify the chants of England's number 1. However a change following the opening goal to boost the home teams attack with the addition of Hugo Rodallega seem to have the reverse effect by the way the impressive David Ruiz was moved into a more withdrawn role.
Reading justified their half time lead by pioneering a second half goal fest which on the one hand reinforced the best league in the world tag with the concomitant excitement but on the other the number of unforced defensive errors suggested that this was a game more of Championship quality.
Despite striker Pawel Pogrebnyak appearing to play with the hand brake on, his team mates needed no stimulus, scoring three goals marked by the quality of the finish. Taking advantage of a deep lying one paced centre back pairing of Hangeland and Senderos, Robson-Kanu and Le Fondre maintained the Royals lead before Karacan sealed the points with a shot drilled in along the ground from the edge of the penalty area.
The goals only served to exhort the already buoyant away support to new heights of glee at this unexpected turn of events regularly pointing out the incredible nature of the win. Fulham did belatedly wake up to the fact that they are not quite safe from relegation with Ruiz spearheading their comeback by scoring two goals, but on the rare occasions that McCarthy was unable to stop any further scoring attempts the woodwork came to Reading's rescue.
Thus with both teams going for it in the style of promotion/relegation death match, both sets of fans were treated an extraordinarily open second half which went some way to justifying the ticket price. Looking ahead Fulham need to address their decline if they are to maintain their Premier League status next season, whilst its clear that Reading have the makings of a team which can hold steady in the Championship. So it will be the signings made in the summer which will be crucial in inspiring each club to better themselves next season.
A relaxing afternoon ended with a stroll back to the Temperance where we were briefly joined by Reading legend Adie Williams. It somehow summed up the day that he was able to freely chat with fans despite the Premier League hype, and proves yet again that a trip to Craven Cottage is the best value day out at the match in London.
Off to Reading after a football free weekend to watch an important game for both the Royals and their visitors from North London, with the home team having hit the bottom of the table and the Gunners reeling from their humiliating League Cup defeat at Bradford City.
Despite the fact that the two clubs have spent the majority of their history in different leagues the fixture has a rich history as detailed in the excellent match programme. It even has a place in popular culture as the scene of Nick Hornby's unmasking as fake Londoner when he attended the clubs' FA Cup tie at Elm Park in 1972. Currently though it is Brian McDermott who is the prime link between the two clubs, the programme featuring cuttings from the Arsenal programme when McDermott was still a Gunner. Although too kind to mention it, these cuttings came from the 1983-84 season when Arsenal last suffered a League Cup defeat to a team from the lower reaches of the Football League when Walsall won at Highbury. This bona fide shock led to the demise of manager Terry Neill and the lead up to last night's game was not shy of predicting a similar fate for both managers, though once again the programme was replete with statistics to argue against such a drastic option.
So plenty to ponder on the trip to that most loathsome of locations, the out of town football ground. With Reading station quickly reached, and plenty of help at hand to direct me to the waiting football special buses, a lengthy queue caused by the driver having to deal with cash was followed by a slow half an hour crawl through the rush hour traffic to Small Mead. Fortunately it was quite easy to locate my seat in the unofficial neutral section next to the Arsenal fans, which afforded me a magnificent view of a sold out ground which nevertheless seemed to have plenty of Emirates style paid for but empty seats.
Earlier in the season I had seen Reading do all but beat QPR at Loftus Road as the well organised Royals comfortably dealt with Rangers' attacks, yet this fortitude was mysteriously absent as the home team offered up an odd strategy of sitting back and allowing Mikel Arteta to bring the ball forward from deep in his own half. By the time a challenge arrived the mercurial Santi Cazorla had inevitably moved into a position which allowed him to cause havoc in the Reading defence all night. By the time Arsenal opened the scoring with a great finish by Lukas Podolski, the Spaniard was already giving the best live performance I had seen of his. With Kieran Gibbs also looking good on the left wing the stage seemed set for Theo Walcott to back up his claim that the central attacking role should be his, but he fluffed his lines on several occasions before scoring what proved to be the final goal of the game ten minutes from the end.
In between Arsenal seemed to have won the game before allowing Reading some late hope. Cazorla embodied the Gunners domination for the best part of the game by scoring a hat trick even show boating in the penalty area early in the second half.
Just in case anyone had forgotten Arsenal's defensive malaise this season, they conceded two quick goals to halve the lead and hint at a repeat of the epic league cup tie here at the end of October. There was no danger of lightning striking twice though and the game ended comfortably enough for Arsenal no matter how frustrating it is that the clean sheet is fast becoming an anachronism in the Premier League.
Reading Buses were on top form to get me back to the station in time for the early train home after a match which was enjoyable in isolation and changed little long term. In a poor Premier League, Arsenal can go third if they win their Saturday lunchtime match at Wigan, but the background noise about Wenger's future will remain for the foreseeable future. In contrast Reading will travel to Eastlands at the weekend with little hope never mind expectation, but surely they must see the long term value in McDermott's management and back him to use what will almost certainly be a budget boosted by a parachute payment next season to build a stronger squad better able to sustain a Premier League place should promotion be won once more.
Hosting West London's top social function last night meant football had to wait until Sunday this weekend so I took advantage of Reading's visit to Queen's Park Rangers to walk to a game for a change. Although the nearest ground to my home I much prefer to visit Craven Cottage or even Griffin Park rather than trudge through the side streets of W12 to Loftus Road. I've never warmed to the London Rs and their subbuteo stadium, a feeling apparently shared by most of my fellow locals judging by the way they struggle to sell out games even in the top flight. Likewise Reading were unable to sell out their top tier allocation at the school end, hardly surprising with seats priced £40-£45 with just about enough leg room for a child and a restricted view of the goal beneath. Still at least I had a perfect sight of the touchline where Mark Hughes and his coaching staff waved their arms with ever frantic impatience as the game went on.
This seat was also adjacent to the block of home fans where Moroccan Ben Lauroa sits at the front proudly sporting a custom made sombrero in club colours. A common complaint about football is that there are no characters in the game anymore. Well with this guy spending his time either waving his rattle or blowing a horn, not to mention Djibril Cisse and his blue mohawk, Loftus Road is bucking the trend.
Both clubs have famously acquired new rich owners in the last year or so but on today's evidence neither looks like getting any immediate pleasure from their new toy. At least in Reading's case this has not been the result of fiscal stimulus yet, however serious questions must be asked about how Tony Fernandes has broken up a team that looked like they were built to survive by Neil Warnock when I saw them play at Arsenal last Christmas. Certainly with the likes of Alejandro Faurlin, Bobby Zamora and Shaun Wright-Phillips on the bench Mark Hughes cannot complain about a lack of resources. Reading however lined up much as they had done in the Championship and had much the better of the first half as their well organised team efficiently got the ball forward down the flanks and created plenty of opportunities in and around the box, mainly as a result of set pieces.
In reply QPR had little to offer relying on the individual flair of Adel Taarabt and jinkin Djibril Cisse to create a chance with the only end result being the odd long shot which did little to trouble Reading goalkeeper Alex McCarthy.
Reading took a deserved lead just after the quarter hour mark, unsurprisingly from a corner. First to the ball was Sean Morrision who at the second attempt headed the ball against the bar. Kaspars Gorkss was first to the rebound and acrobatically volleyed the ball into the back of the net.
As the half drew on QPR began to get a little bolder with Jose Bosingwa taking a more advanced role on the right wing which accompanied by the crowd getting on the referee's back to influence the award of a few soft free kicks saw Rangers enjoy their best spell of the game, only being denied an equaliser when Esteban Granero (who only seemed to touch the ball at set pieces) saw his free kick touched onto the woodwork by McCarthy.
After the break QPR took the upper hand, taking advantage of both Reading full backs conceding their flank next to the penalty area. This inevitably led to the equaliser midway through the second half when a Bosingwa cross eluded the Reading back line allowing Cisse to nip in and score.
At this point the stage seemed set for QPR to go on and win the game but instead it was Reading that dominated towards the end although QPR came closest to scoring. That the score remained level was reflective of the lack of quality in both teams' forward lines. Reading showed plenty of energy and drive in their attacking moves spearheaded by Jimmy Kebe and Noel Hunt but had no one capable of troubling goalkeeper Julio Cesar even when a Royal head was more often than not first to the ball at several set pieces late on. Rangers counter attacked quickly mainly through Taarabt, but he lacked the composure to beat McCarthy when through one on one, the keeper pushing his effort round the post.
The final whistle left both teams win less having produced a display which was more akin to the Championship rather than the Premier League, as shown by the man of the match, Jay Tabb, a tireless engine of perpetual motion in the midfield but hardly a player you pick out as top class. Over to the club owners now, but I would say Reading's current approach shows the most long term prudence, if only because Rangers cannot attract the support to justify further outlay.
An all too early trip to probably the best located club in the Blue Square Bet South, Bath City. Fortunately for me the evening kick off was no problem and I was able to set off from Paddington just after lunch to give me plenty of time to wander round the tourist sites. Torrential rain forced me and my travel companion into the pub though and a more traditional pre match warm up of several pints of premium continental lager ensued.
Wandering out onto the magnificent covered terrace in the fading daylight I took in the familiar view of old school floodlights and Somerset countryside. Although I guess it must be expensive to maintain, Twerton Park is a real gem of a ground and hopefully will be around for a few years yet.
Multiple Magpies and a pig
Ironically in terms of results at Twerton Park, Maidenhead had lost all four matches against Bath City but won all three against Team Bath. In short the team wearing black and white stripes won every time. Indeed Bath City are appropriately the only home team I have seen win at Twerton Park as back in 1989 I saw Reading firstly hold and then in a second replay beat tenants Bristol Rovers in an FA Cup tie.
Sadly the result went true to form last night with like Saturday at York Road, the home team deserving the win but being a little flattered by the final scoreline. Maidenhead carried on where they left off on Saturday, with only Lee Barney missing through injury from the opening day starting line up. After a bright United start though it was Bath who took the lead with their first purposeful attack in the 7th minute when Aaron Brown flew down the left wing and delivered a cross for debutant Kurtis Guthrie to finish with a flying header. Bath manager Adie Britton had clearly captured the zeitgeist by electing to give the Fellaini haired Guthrie his first start but he was forced into his next two decisions as Bath lost two players through injury by the twenty minute mark. This enabled Maidenhead tp exert some pressure but there was no end product for the 20 Magpies strewn behind the goal to cheer, which must have kept the Bath mascot a pig, happy having decided to join us.
The arrival of the Logician midway through the first half signalled a period of Bath dominance which they capped with a second goal nine minutes ahead of the break. This was a replica of the first, Guthrie going one better than his Moroccan lookalike. This time it was Kerry Morgan's turn (on for the injured Brown) to deliver the cross from the left for Guthrie to head home. As the first half drew to a close Maidenhead gave notice of a resurgence when a sharp shot from Paul Semakula drew a great save from Bath goalkeeper Glyn Garner. All in all a bit of a shock to the system after Saturday with Bath showing all the hallmarks of a team used to playing at a higher level. With nothing to lose in the second half Maidenhead gave it a real good go keeping Bath pushed back in their own penalty area. Derek Duncan was first to threaten with a free kick after eight minutes which Garner tipped over the bar. As with Saturday the substitutions inspired a goal. This time it was Harry Pritchard who made the difference swinging in a corner from the right which was met at the far post by the head of Daniel Brown. This had the unfortunate effect of rousing the ire of Guthrie again and within two minutes he had a shot well saved by the feet of Billy Lumley. Maidenhead continued to press for an equaliser and the match was decided by a sucker punch of a Bath counter attack. Inevitably the ball again came from the left this time from Morgan's substitute Noah Keats whose ball put Guthrie through on the keeper, the striker making no mistake with his finish to seal his hat trick. Maidenhead continued to work hard for a way back into the game a close range effort from David Pratt drawing a fine reaction save from Garner and as we wandered off into the teeming rain to find our taxi we were left to reflect on an evening when the clinical finishing off a striker sure to make a name for himself this season ensured United's sorry run against Bath at Twerton Park continued.
... would have been the response if you had asked any of the 180 Wigan supporters at the Arsenal game on Monday night if they though the Latics would stay up. The size of their following belied their non league roots but what was displayed on the pitch was as slick as anything you could hope to see in any of the top divisions of European football.
All this was a long way from the team I saw play at Springfield Park in the early 90s. When living in Preston I once popped down to Wigan one Friday night to see them play Reading before what turned out to be their lowest league crowd at the time, lower than that which turned up to York Road last Saturday. A late equaliser from the Royals' Allan Cockram meant the points were shared that night on an evening devoid of even one iota of the class on display at Arsenal.
Now playing before a crowd of 60,000 Wigan were more than worthy of this exalted stage, proving they are to date the most durable of the clubs promoted to the Football League in the 1970s. In a breathless first half two quick goals from Wigan gave them what proved to be an unassailable lead although it was only thanks to goalkeeper Al-Habsi that Arsenal were unable to provide a more predictable half time scoreline.
The keeper produced two outstanding saves from Benayoun headers either side of the Wigan goals to confine Arsenal to just the one score from Thomas Vermaelen, In between the impressive Victor Moses parted a Red defence all at sea to set up goals for Di Santo and Gomez.
After the break any assumption that Arsenal would complete the comeback were soon dispelled as Wigan displayed the full efficacy of their 3-4-3 with the ball, 4-5-1 without formation. This meant Wigan not only out thought but out fought Arsenal, the Gunners too often looking like they thought they could produce an equaliser by sheer force of attacking numbers. Instead it was Wigan who looked the most likely to score in the second half, this time Moses going on to shoot after a mazy, producing a good save from Szczesny.
Thus its Wigan who go into the weekend being able to relax a little whilst Arsenal will need to be back to their best against Chelsea to secure their hold on third spot.
It was left to Robin Van Persie to again secure Arsenal three points with the much maligned Andrey Arshavin playing Tonto to the Dutchman's lone ranger by setting up the only goal of the game.
It was a contest that on the face of it had much in common with that played four days earlier here against Wolves but whereas in that game it was a superb goalkeeping performance that stopped a comfortable Arsenal win, on this occasion it was the Gunners' profligacy in front of goal that prevented a greater margin of victory.
The game opened with the opposition looking solidly set to do all they could to earn a goalless draw with a backline so deep they might as well have stayed in West London. This allowed the Dutchman sitting next to me to get on with sorting out his emails on his iPad, with Szczesny the only goalkeeper being called into action. Thus I was given time to ponder similar New Year clashes, with a mid 80s fixture between the two clubs when Ian Allinson was the unlikely star in a 3-1 win not looking favourite for a repeat. Instead it was a goalless draw at Elm Park when Huddersfield manager Neil Warnock celebrated as if he'd won promotion by holding the mighty Reading that seemed most likely to play out in front of me.
As the half drew on though Arsenal created a number of chances and should have converted at least one before half time, being unfortunate on a couple of occasions when Joey Barton cleared off the line and Matthew Connolly handled the ball without penalty in the box. Barton of course had earlier introduced himself by upending Mikel Arteta, going onto try and ensure he wasn't alone in the referee's book by rolling around on the turf whenever he was challenged.
With Aaron Ramsey pulling the strings Arsenal continued to dominate after the break but Theo Walcott lack of match fitness was reflected by the way he spurned the best chance of the game one on one with Cerny. QPR were beginning to look like they might get something out of the game before shooting themselves in the foot when a misplaced pass from Shaun Wright-Phillips found Arshavin who fed Van Persie to score.
Aside from Gervinho missing a sitter it was a nervy finish from Arsenal with QPR raising the tension every time they attacked but the scoreline remained the same at the final whistle leaving Arsenal fans to scurry off down the Holloway Road to their New Year's Eve celebrations in the knowledge that at the halfway stage of the league season the Gunners had completed their comeback from a disastrous start to end 2011 in the top four.
The journey home was enlightened by a programme article about former Arsenal player Dave Bowen who holds two club records more noteworthy than the irrelevant one Van Persie broke with his goal. Firstly Bowen, along with Jack Kelsey, was the first Arsenal player to play in the World Cup Finals when he represented Wales in the 1958 tournament in Sweden. Secondly Bowen is the only Arsenal player to have a stand named after him, at Northampton's ground, the club he took from Fourth to First Division as manager in the 1960s.
An early postponement at York Road presented the opportunity to catch up with a friend going to Crystal Palace to support Reading. The convenience of a direct train from Shepherd's Bush to Selhurst added to the rare luxury of being able to pay cash at the turnstile (sorry box office adjacent to the turnstile) to watch professional football meant this was too easy an opportunity to pass up. A train full of rugby fans made this an unlikely rush hour and any doubt as to who I would support at Selhurst Park evaporated when a crafty Eagle sneaked in front of me to pinch a seat then proceeded to use the one next to him to unfurl his copy of the Daily Mail and use it as a repository for the salad from his sandwich, presumably having read how it would give him cancer.
Loyalties sorted I arrived at Selhurst and promptly bumped into one of the Twyford Royal Magpies and then as if my arrival at the ground was expected was interviewed by a mysterious organisation called winkball.
Pre match pleasantaries over and done with I finally got to the Arthur Waite stand and was disappointed to find that the away end had been moved to the bottom of the hill next to the family stand, well away from the Holmesdale Ultras. On the other hand this meant I had now completed the set and sat in every section of this part of the ground.
You have to give Crystal Palace credit for creating an atmosphere at games at a pitch well above what you would expect from an average crowd of under 15,000 although I'm not sure what the pre match parading of an Eagle does to create more noise. My desperate hopes that it would ignore its handler and perch on the stand until the game started, then divebomb the players were sadly unfulfilled. Let's hope Palace can renew their rivalry with Brighton next season to present the opportunity of some primeaval bird fight with a seagull. Bird brained antics aside the Palace fans always get behind their team whatever their standing so despite the obvious limitations of Selhurst Park I was surprised to read throughout the programme how keen everyone was to move to the Crystal Palace athletics stadium. Aside from the pedants delight of actually playing in Crystal Palace this could be a case of throwing the baby out with the bathwater and ending up in a sterile stadium.
As to the game, well it lived up to the Championship's reputation for hurly burly goalmouth action in 3-3 draw which fairly reflected the play. Neither side could defend with Reading being first to prove this point by losing possession in the centre circle then allowing Darren Ambrose to storm towards goal unimpeded and pick his spot to score within a minute of the kick off. This was all the incentive Palace needed to tear into the Royals and in an uptempo start the home team should have had the game won with the first twenty minutes. Former Everton starlet James Vaughan was a real thorn in the Royals side severely exposing Shaun "short" Cummings. The lead could have been doubled when a Danns shot was scooped from what looked like behind the line by keeper McCarthy, and Danns soon made up for this by scoring a second.
On the rare occasions Reading got forward Palace looked equally shaky at the back and were given a lifeline when Shane Long was brought down in the penalty area then converted the spot kick. Palace were then awarded a penalty themselves within a minute of the restart but a McCarthy save from Ambrose changed the game and from here on in Reading took charge.
In the second half it look like being a question of when not if Reading would equalise and therefore it was no surprise when a spritely run and cross from Long was smartly finished by Jimmy Kebe to prove my pre match call about his precocious talent.. Palace manager Dougie Freedman reacted by substituting the fading Vaughan with Jermaine Easter, which soon paid off when Easter scored the goal of the game with a volley. However Palace keeper Julian Speroni was now limping heavily and this was finally exposed by the head of Noel Hunt to equalise and seal a point which although well deserved would have pleased neither team.
Yet another blank Saturday for the Magpies so I opted to join a friend with a Reading season ticket on the road to Doncaster to take up the offer of a bargain £15 entry price at Rovers. Travelling up the M1 it felt like legions of football fans were on the march as we passed coaches and cars bearing the favours of Oxford United, Leeds United, Stevenage, Hull City and Newport County.
Doncaster's Keepmoat Stadium like most out of town grounds is handily placed for the motorway with plenty of parking in the adjacent industrial area. The ground is next to a shopping outlet centre which was cunningly situated to draw us towards the ground only to find there was no way to access it. One detour later, we arrived at the stadium. Set in the midst of manmade grassy knolls and lakes, its a one tier version of the identikit all seater all covered wraparound stadia which are now common in the UK. Its stand out feature is the floodlights, which unlike most other new grounds which simply bolt the lights onto the roof, are mounted on mini pylons in the European style familiar to anyone who used to play Subbuteo.
The away end is entered through the usual breeze block cavern containing food, drink and gambling outlets. With a strong wind blowing we opted for shelter before taking our seats just before kick off. This gave us the opportunity to discover that the "club that plays the best football in the division" as boasted about in the programme, is based on a philosophy that permeates the club even down to the humble drinks kiosk operative.
Having worked out that alcohol was cheaper than the pastry wrapped offerings, I asked for two half litre bottles of lager and was amazed at the teamwork on display. Two staff remained still as they were in charge of pouring beer, one took the bottles out of the fridge, handed them to the supervisor (as designated by his suit and tie) who removed the caps before handing them to the cashier for exchanging with me for £6.
This tea bar teamwork foreshadowed the game's opening stages which was dominated by the home team, a three man central defence allowing the full backs to lap the midfield and support the lone striker. The intricate interplay couldn't quite fashion a decent chance though and once Reading found their rhythm and tempo, they took charge. Hitherto having settled for hopeful punts up the right wing to the Royal playmaker Jimmy Kebie, Reading took the lead with a quick move via the same route which instead took the terrestrial option.
A sharp interception by Jobi McAnuff was followed by a sharp pass to Kebie who played a perfectly timed through ball for Shane Long to run onto, collect and score. A very strong wind threatened to spoil the game but apart from making Neil Sullivan look a bit foolish when his kick outs blew into touch, it mattered little.
Reading dominated the second half, Kebie doubling the lead with a similar move to the one that broke the deadlock, only this time the Mali international scored himself with an exquisite lob as Sullivan found himself struck in no man's land. Doncaster seemed to abandon hope at this point, throwing on all their subs, reverting to a more conventional 4-4-2 set up and their day was summed up when a Matt Kilgallon clearance was deflected into the net by McAnuff. This prompted a mass walk out by the Rovers fans, whilst the travelling Royals hailed their leader Brian McDermott who "used to manage Slough but he's a Royal now".
The sheer depth of club football in England is one of its most alluring aspects. All across the land we are presented with differing football cultures and grounds. Thus we are offered a lifetime of discovery so when finding myself at a loose end and being offered a lift by a Reading Season ticket holder to their League Cup tie at Torquay earlier this week I found it impossible to say no to visiting a new ground (number 194 if you're counting - I am) and completing the set of Devon's Football League Stadia.
On arrival in Torbay we headed for the picturesque coastal suburb of Babbacombe. After dining on award winning Fish and Chips we had a leisurely pre match pint in a pub where supporters of both clubs mingled freely.
A ten minute walk brought us to the ground where without a policeman in sight we were able to enter the turnstile untrammelled by the intrusive hands of a yellow coat, and exchange cash for a place of our choosing on the away terrace behind the goal.
Plainmoor, which has been home to the Gulls for a century is tidy enough and split 50/50 between terracing and seating with the main stand just about offering the ideal set up of a terraced paddock in front of the seats.
For perhaps the first time when attending a match between two Football League clubs I felt like I was at a non league game. This was not surprising when the crowd of 2,832 (up to a third from Berkshire) is considered but the whole friendly tone of the evening contributed to a stereotypically laid back West Country atmosphere.
Berkshire may be many things but its certainly not a hotbed of football. Consider the evidence: it's not even an independent FA being merged with Bucks, and Maidenhead is the second biggest club in the county by a long chalk. Yet Reading is trying their hardest to change this state of affairs. It's not too long ago that Reading were a professional version of the Magpies. They hovered around the lower divisions, lived in a lovable but tatty old ground, and all their greatest feats were in the dim and distant past. Perhaps like York Road is today, Elm Park was somewhere you could go along with your mates every so often to one of the handful of big games in a season. It was cheap, accessible and required no commitment. How things have changed! Over the last twenty years they have transformed into a bona fide big club, not just satisfied with consolidating a place in Football League Championship but settling for nothing less than a Premiership place. Central to this transformation was the move to that modern equivalent of a statue of a Victorian factory owner, the Madejski stadium, known locally as the Madstad. This shiny new stadium has attracted the local populace in numbers that were pre war memories at Elm Park. The burgeoning bourgeoisie of Silicon Valley evidently preferring the meal deals and antiseptic concrete of the Madstad to the smell of tobacco and stewed onions that would envelop Elm Park on any given matchday. I witnessed all this for myself a couple of weeks when with York Road like most of the rest of the South of England snowbound, Reading v Preston North End presented virtually the only tempting football option. However it wasn't simply a case of pitching up to the South Bank at five to three with a couple of quid as was the case at Elm Park. Detailed research showed that although tickets were available they could only be bought by members which could only be obtained by prior application (funny I thought football supporters stopped all that members only business twenty years ago). Fortunately there was plenty of space in the away end for anyone with £26.50 (to be fair it was about £9 cheaper in advance). Once inside I resisted the temptations of the meal deal (£6 for a pie and a pint) and admired the basic functionality of the Madstad with its clean and sufficient facilities, including seats which provided a clear view of the action. In the run up to kick off the Preston fans instinctively arranged themselves with people wanting to sit and watch taking the forwards whilst the youngsters who wanted to jump around and sing heading for the back. After kick off this was not good enough for the stewards who pointlessly wasted time pleading with people to sit before bravely dragging out a non compliant young girl whilst ignoring her burlier male peers. The football was not dissimilar to what you would see at Conference South level. Two well organised teams largely cancelling each other out, with a yawning creativity gap preventing goals. The under soil heating whilst making the game playable had combined with the rugby to make the surface unhelpful to the lonely talent of Stephen Hunt, and a stalemate ensued. For the most part it was Reading who showed the wherewithal to break this but after about an hour they seemed to lose heart and it was Preston who almost snatched it near the end, only for pub footballer John Parkin to blast a chance over from close range. Despite this opportunity Preston opted to play for a point taking the ball to the corners as the minutes counted down, their joy at earning a draw shown when captain Sean St Ledger gleefully threw his shirt into the crowd at the final whistle. The most stunning statistic of the day was that the game was watched by 19,500. At the end some of them shouted “Premiership you’re having a laugh” at each other. Definitely right in terms of the evidence on the pitch, probably wrong in terms of the evidence off it.
