The Football Neutral: Match Fifty Nine – Northampton Town vs Northwich

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So this is season three of my adventures, don’t forget you can pick up the ebook of last season on Kindle for less than £3. Do it and support this blog! I’d be very grateful! Loads of games from Dortmund to Clapton. You can also get the first season at Amazon too!

I’m not going to lie.  This is a good one, and it’s not just because of the Magic of the FA Cup (TM).

My last two games have been goalless draws.  Last time out at Chorley it was still entertaining enough down to the company I was in and the weather conditions the game was played in, alongside the spectacular old stand I sat in.  The game before that at Solihull was, let’s be honest, dire.  At least the fans kept me entertained because it was, quite easily, the worst game of football I have ever watched.  This past weekend needed to give me something to remind me why I do this… and boy, did it.

I wasn’t even planning on going to a game on Saturday.  As I was working in Leicester my plan was to stay at my Dads and find some kind of online feed to watch City against Swansea in the afternoon before rocking up to my gig at night.  My general feeling of lethargy and laziness was not exactly helped by fainting in the Fosse Park branch of Asda on the Friday night.

I was just idly looking at Quorn sausage rolls one minute (I’m not a veggie, I just really like Quorn), and then I was on the floor the next.  Two very nice ladies who worked there helped me, up, sat me down and gave me a cup of tea with seventeen sugars in it.  I think they thought I was drunk, which probably wasn’t helped by me insisting that I wasn’t drunk even though they never asked.  Because as everyone knows, the more pissed you are, the more you deny it.  After a while they let me go about my business and drive back to my Dad’s.

Compare and contrast the reaction of my wife to this news to how my Father dealt with it:

WIFE: “You need to get some proper rest.  You’re working too hard, and probably need to see the doctor.  I’m very worried about you, you really need a holiday.”

DAD: “You’d best have a jaffa cake.”

But much as I’d have liked to feel sorry for myself and lounge on a sofa eating biscuits on Saturday afternoon, a mate came calling.  That mate is Lloyd Griffith, and he is one of my very favourite human beings.  I always feel that my combo of comedian / writer / wrestling promoter is pretty neat (more on that in a minute), but his is even better: Comedian / actor / opera singer.  He genuinely has the voice of an angel: one of my favourite memories of the Fringe this year was Lloyd and Charlie Baker singing the Tetris theme tune together on stage during a Gamer Gamer show that I was hosting.

As well as being bloody funny and a smashing lad, Lloyd happens to be a Grimsby supporter.  He’s such an enthusiastic fan that if you spend any time with him I can guarantee that you will then always look out for their score on a Saturday from that moment onwards.  He’s even had chance to commentate on his team recently, something that I’ve done in the past with City (vs Loughborough in a pre-season friendly) but he’s been trusted with proper games as he’s actually, you know, good at it.

Lloyd messaged me to ask if I was doing a game, so I had a quick look at the fixture list and decided upon Northampton vs Northwich in the second round of the FA Cup.  Whilst I chose it mainly because of it’s geographical proximity to both of our gigs that night (I was in Leicester, Lloyd was in Stafford and Stoke), it also happened to be the tie of the round.

Northampton are currently turning heads in League Two despite the club being in dire financial trouble.  They’ve got an unfinished stand that they can’t pay for, HM Revenue and Customs issued them a winding up order over unpaid taxes in October, and their players have gone periods without being paid during this season.  But they’re playing good football and sit in a promotion spot, level on points with top team Oxford United.

Then there was their opponents, Northwich Victoria.  The lowest ranked team still in the cup, they ply their trade in the Northern Premier League Division One North and are no strangers to financial peril themselves, nearly going bust twice since the turn of the century.  They’re based not too far from where I live, sharing a ground with their local rivals Witton Albion (whose stadium it actually is).  Northampton’s unfinished stand and owed money will certainly resonate with Vics fans, as they opened a new stadium in 2005, only to have to sell it and see it demolished seven years later.  A splinter group of fans even formed a new club – 1874 Northwich FC – that plays in the league below the Vics.

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Before I set off for the game I had to do a radio interview for TalkSPORT about Leicester City and various other things with Georgie Bingham and Micky Quinn.  I remember Quinn as a player, terrorising defences for Portsmouth, Newcastle and Coventry.  It was at the latter where he made his biggest impression on me as it was around that time that I realised growing up in Hinckley that Leicester’s biggest rivals in my eyes would always be the Sky Blues.  They were pretty good back then, too.

Interviews like this often come in through my agent.  I’m the only comedy circuit regular who is a City supporter, as far as I’m aware, so with them doing well at the moment I get asked to do the occasional thing here and there (presumably because X Factor winner Sam Bailey costs too much).  I sense towards the end of the season when we go twenty games without winning (knowing us, that will happen) that I’ll get called upon once again.

The interview didn’t start too well, as I was introduced as a comedian (correct), writer (correct) and wrestler (oh no).  You’re left with two options when something like this happens: just agree with it, or correct the interviewer.  I did the latter, and felt bad about it but they were pretty nice.  I even offered Micky the chance to train to become a wrestler, although he insisted that he would be better at the Sumo variety.  When asked to explain how I felt about our season so far, I stated that none of it is real and I’m clearly just dreaming or in a coma.  I was only half joking, but at the time we sat second in the league.  That kind of stuff doesn’t happen to us.

As I left for Sixfields, it was blowing a serious gale.  So bad was the weather that I heard on the radio that a lorry had been blown over on the M1, so took the A5 down to Northampton from my Dad’s.  I never speed anywhere (fear of losing my license keeps me on the straight and narrow) but at least seventeen cars warned me of the speed camera van that I drove past, including one flashing their lights as I was pretty much next to it.  If I hadn’t seen it by then then I’m certain that my cataracts would have missed your lights as well, bucko.

I parked up in a little car park in a field next to the ground for £3, just as Manchester City looked like they would lose away at Stoke.  This would give Leicester chance to go top of the table again with a win at Swansea, but I wasn’t expecting that to happen.  I wandered over to the stadium in the ever-increasing gale and waited for Lloyd.  As I stood there, two chaps manning a burger van kept trying to convince me to buy food from them, like market traders trying desperately to shift the last few bruised bananas of the day.  At one point one of them just shouted “oi you in the hat! Buy a bloody burger!” It seems someone is familiar with the Simpsons subliminal / liminal / superliminal gag.

In the car park by the way, there was a sign for the nearby McDonalds.  It merely said “ten seconds this way”.  Who is reading that sign and thinking “unless it is ten seconds or less away then I am not going there”?

We’d expected to spend £20 on tickets, but it was only £15 on the day.  I learned at FC United a few weeks ago that you have to sell tickets for at least £10 as part of FA Cup rules, what with the away team taking a percentage of the money and all.  You can only sit in the West Stand (where we chose to head) or the North Stand (Dave Bowen Stand) at present, with the South Stand reserved for away fans and the East Stand just a shell, frozen halfway through its development.

I grabbed a hot dog and Lloyd had a cheese and onion pasty (he’s a veggie) once we were inside.  I knew that he had been doing some work for EA Sports recently with regards to their FIFA games, and had been lucky enough to interview people from all around the world, including the strongest player in the game – Football Neutral favourite Adebayo Akinfenwa – plus various coaches and some lad called Lionel Messi.  I am not bloody joking.  Apparently the Argentinian magician (and arguably the best player of all time) took a shine to Lloyd.  I told you he was a good lad.

We talked about me having to do that radio interview as I’m possibly the 274th most famous Leicester fan in the world and the previous 273 were all too busy or expensive.  I put it to Lloyd that I think he’s the most famous Grimsby fan out there, to which he corrected me: Thomas Turgoose (of This Is England fame) is, but they’re now mates, bonded over a love of Grimsby Town.  I love it when stuff like that happens.

We got to our seats and Lloyd pointed at something.  Behind the North Stand stood the Sixfields Tavern, and there seemed to be smoke coming out of it.  Lloyd insisted that it was on fire. It didn’t seem to be a lot of smoke, so I let it pass.  In the away end, one of the Northwich fans threw a very unimpressive flare onto the pitch, and a bored looking steward slowly poured a bucket of sand on it like a high school caretaker.

There was now a lot more smoke pouring out of the pub.  Lloyd pointed out that it was definitely a fire, looking at where smoke was coming from within the building.  When I asked him how he knew so much about it, he told me that he loves fire engines.  Seriously.  Like I enjoy football stadium architecture, one of the circuits best comedians genuinely loves fire engines.

The teams took the field and kicked off, but I’ll be honest: as the situation in the pub escalated, it was very difficult to concentrate on the match.  It wasn’t just like that for me and Lloyd, everyone struggled.  You were instantly aware of the humour of football fans though: I didn’t hear a single person express their worries for anyone inside the pub (it turns out that nobody was hurt, everyone was evacuated quickly thanks to the stellar work of the staff there), instead everyone tried to one-up each other with jokes about the fire.

“Well, better book somewhere else for Christmas dinner”

“I didn’t ask for my steak to be THAT well done”

“Hello, is that direct line?”

Then there was an audible “ooh” from everyone in the crowd as flames started to leap out of the building.  It made for a very surreal atmosphere indeed.  Here’s a picture Lloyd took (and follow him on Twitter – @lloydgriffith )

fire2All of this meant that I couldn’t tell you much about the first half an hour or so of the match, even though it wasn’t bad. It’s just tricky to look at anything else. We did notice that the stewards in the East Stand were having to wear hard hats though as it;s still a construction site, and the flags in there were blowing around violently.  Also, a Northwich fan was thrown out for setting off another smoke bomb, presumably jealous that the pub fire was getting too much attention.

At one point Northampton threatened their smaller opposition and the Cobblers fans started singing “You;re Going Down With The Tavern” which made me genuinely laugh out loud for a good five minutes.  Lloyd chose this moment to sum up the surreal nature of the afternoon:

“A few days ago I was in Barcelona at the Nou Camp interviewing Lionel Messi.  Now I’m in Northampton watching a pub burn down. I love football”.

One fire engine kept driving around and not parking up, leading everyone – because we all noticed it – to speculate that he was that weird kind of lost, where you can see where you’re meant to be but can’t physically get there because of the tiniest of road closures.  Lloyd knew exactly what type of engine it was as well.  I asked him if he ever fancied being a fireman and he said he did, but after taking some preliminary tests he was, and I quote, “dangerously scared of fire”.

At this point in the game, Northwich were on top of their higher-ranked opposition, with Northampton struggling to get any real chances together and the Vics playing without fear. They had a decent chance through Howard before their keeper Mason Springthorpe was drawn into a couple of good saves from rare cohesive Northampton attacks. Then in the 44th minute the whole of Sixfields was shocked as Jimmy Ball put the visitors ahead with a volley from a corner in front of the Northwich fans.  They rightly went utterly insane as the players celebrated with them.

We went into the half-time break with the minnows in front and the pub still ablaze.  That’s a sentence I don’t think I’ll ever type again.  With a gale force wind whipping through the stadium (and fanning the flames) we were treated to a handful of fans trying (and failing) to chip footballs into the boot of a car parked in the corner of the ground.  I checked up on how Leicester were doing an they were two-nil ahead away at Swansea, meaning they were also top of the Premier League.  At this point I thought I might actually be dreaming all of this.

2015-12-05 14.54.49The wind showed no chance of slowing down as we kicked off the second half, with it making every dead ball a tricky prospect. The Vics keeper took abut three minutes to take one goal kick as the stiff breeze kept moving the ball just as he made his run-up. Home favourite Ricky Holmes was brought on in the 59th minute, and this gave the home fans chance to sign his name set to the Spandau Ballet hit “Gold”, giving rise to one of the more catchy songs I’ve heard this year.

Four minutes after his arrival though and it was 2-0 to Northwich. Richard Bennett nodded home after great work from Brian Summerskill, dispossessing Buchanan and seeing a fantastic cheeky lob rebound back off the bar for his team-mate to double their advantage.

Credit both sets of fans here.  Nobody in the home end turned on their team despite an upset being on the cards, and the away fans turned up the volume and backed their side as loudly as they could, albeit without any smoke bombs or flares now.  It was part of the FA Cup script that Vics keeper Springthorpe would now start playing out of his skin, stopping Taylor from pulling one back with an absolutely out of this world save.

With the Cobblers fans also cranking up the volume as their side chased the game, Lloyd found a novel way of joining in with songs without feeling like he was cheating on his own team. When ever the home fans sang a song, he would replace “Cobblers” with “Coldplay”.  He kept this up for the rest of the game.  If only we were watching Derby so we could have been watching a Chris Martin on the field to make the reference more accurate.  It certainly fit in every song though.

In the 82nd minute Northwich brought on Muhammed Ali.  The announcement of that name certainly got everyone’s attention, and while we were still processing that Northampton finally found a way past Springthorpe. Sam Hoskins eventually got the final touch on a shot that ricocheted through the six yard box to bring the Cobblers back into the match.  The atmosphere was now rocking, and the pub was STILL on fire.

Lloyd pointed out that the Northwich players heads had visibly dropped after conceding, and he wasn’t wrong. Two minutes later the game was level, with former Leicester midfielder Nicky Adams teeing up Jason Taylor to head home.  The place went nuts and even the stewards in front of us stopping jubilant fans from getting onto the pitch were dancing and singing.

We’d barely sat back down when Northampton broke Northwich hearts with a winner, just four minutes after being 2-0 down.  Ricky Holmes twisted and turned on the right wing and used the outside of his foot to curl in a wonderful cross right onto the head of Dominic Calvert-Lewin to power a fine header into the back of the net.

For those who doubt what the FA Cup means, the reaction to that goal said it all.  Sure, Northampton were expected to win but getting to the third round is enormous for them.  The crowd were as loud for that goal as they would have been for one against much bigger opposition, and you could see how distraught the Northwich players were on the field at letting their lead slip, especially their keeper who seemed close to tears.

Calvert-Lewin should then have added a fourth as both sides still went toe to toe, but conceding three so quickly had really blunted Northwich and there was no way back for them.  The Cobblers fans chanted “Shoe Army” and the wonderful “We’ve Got No Pub But We’re Beating You” as the final whistle sounded and we were told over the tannoy that due to an ongoing incident that the North car parks would not be accessible for some time.  A few wags said “what incident?”

The Northwich keeper sat in his penalty box, head in his hands.  He was applauded by both sets of fans, as were the rest of the Vics players.  As the away fans left the ground, a section of home fans sang the name of their opposition out of respect.  Me and Lloyd were giddy at what we’d seen.  A comeback, a great atmosphere and a pub burning down.  The magic of the FA Cup, indeed.

Summary

Northampton Town 3 (Hoskins 83, Taylor 85, Calvert-Lewin 87) vs Northwich Victoria 2 (Ball 44, Bennett 63)

Attendance: 3,837

Cost: Ticket £15, Parking £3, Hot Dog £3.30, Bovril £1.80

Fun Factor: 9/10

 

The Football Neutral: Match Fifty Eight – Chorley vs Skelmersdale United

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So this is season three of my adventures, don’t forget you can pick up the ebook of last season on Kindle for less than £3. Do it and support this blog! I’d be very grateful! Loads of games from Dortmund to Clapton. You can also get the first season at Amazon too!

I found myself in somewhat of a quandary this weekend, with the desire to watch a game to write about going up against the need for me to watch the top of the Premier League clash between my own Leicester City and Manchester United at 5.30pm.

I sense if you’re reading this a long way into the future that you’ll go back and re-read that last sentence a few times. Believe me, I’m still pinching myself.

On Saturday morning, I awoke in a world where colours were a little brighter, music sounded a little bit better and everything tasted sweeter because my little team were top of the league. And not in a “small club wins first two games so are top in August” kind of way. No. Top of the league at the end of November. With the top goal scorer in the league in our side and playing the sort of football that fans of other clubs are massively envious of.

I’ll let you into a secret of how Claudio Ranieri manages City. It’s very similar to playing Ultimate Team on FIFA. Select an eleven where all the attacking players have a pace rating of over 90, then at the beginning of a match push right on the D-Pad five times to set the tactics to “ultra attacking”. Who cares if we’ve let in the seventh most goals in the league? Vardy, Mahrez, Kante, Albrighton and Drinkwater are all playing phenomenally well. I’d go as far as saying that since April, this is the best Leciester City side that I have ever seen.

I promise I’ll get to Chorley in a second, but do indulge me my best ever City eleven from players I’ve actually watched playing:

GK: Kasper Schmeichel. Yes, we had a run of good keepers in the late 1990s, and the idiot hipster in me wants to select perma-track suited Pegguy Arphexad for this slot, but everyone knows Kasper is the real deal. Always winning us points on his own and probably has a ton of assists in his Leicester career thanks to his accurate throwing and ability to kick the ball from Leicester to Munich.

RB: Pontus Kaamark. Injury kept him out of our team a lot of the time during his stay, but he famously won us the 1997 League Cup by marking Juninho out of the game. Bryan Robson complained about this being unfair, which seems a bit daft. Obviously we should have given him the ball and let him terrorise us.

CB: Matt Elliott. Scored at least 300 goals from corners. I once bumped into him in the Hinckley branch of Morrissons where I couldn’t think of anything to say to him so just screamed “fuck me, it’s Matt Elliott!” And he ran and hid in the freezer aisle by the Yorkshire puddings.

CB: Wes Morgan. Primarily because we signed him just to annoy Forest, but he’s been a great captain. Wanted to choose Marcin Wasilewski here because he’s just the most terrifying man on the planet, but went with Wes as he’s a great captain and owns a tattoo studio in Leicester. Lad.

LB: Jeff Schlupp. I was desperate to pick Schlupp because he’s one of the quickest players that I’ve ever seen. Sure, he can’t defend that well but when you see him running towards you it’s time to panic. Scores goals for us when picked at left back, when picked further forward he never does. THE BEST FORM OF DEFENCE IS ATTACK.

CM: Muzzy Izzett. One of the most elegant midfielders to ever play in England, but always overlooked because he played for City. Scored a ton of goals for us, including the header at Watford in 1996 that took us into the playoffs at the very last chance. Played in a World Cup semi final for Turkey. Was about to become a roofer when we signed him from Chelsea reserves.

CM: Neil Lennon. One of the hardest midfielders that I’ve ever seen, if I was that lad playing for him at Bolton that called him a prick at the weekend then I’d be bracing myself for a receipt during training. Got an assist on his debut for us and immediately kissed his badge, thus making us all love him. That was when you could trust players who did that.

CM: N’Golo Kante. Not played many games for us yet but mark my words, will one day leave us for Real Madrid. Tiny and terrifying, he is one of the fastest players in the league despite only being five foot four inches tall, he has thighs as wise as a regular person and wins more tackles in a game than most teams do in a season. Not Makelele-like, Makelele travelled forward in time in a DeLorean and based himself on Kante.

LW: Emile Heskey. I get tired of people giving him grief because not only was he always stellar in a City shirt, but when we went bust he gave us some of his own money to keep us afloat. When he broke into our side as a teenager he was played out wide and nobody had ever seen anything like him. I played against him as a kid and he would score 15 goals per game from centre back. Also, his middle name is Ivanhoe.

RW:  Riyad Mahrez. When we first signed the little Algerian, we all thought he was backup to Anthony Knockaert. He quickly proved to be the best £400k we have ever spent, full of wizardry and great passes. If Anthony Martial is worth £58 million, Mahrez is worth £2 billion.

ST: Jamie Vardy. If you’d have told me two years ago that he would become our best ever striker, I’d have disagreed. He took a while to get going after we signed him from Fleetwood, but now he’s not just beloved by us, he’s lauded by the entire world. Equalling Ruud van Nistelrooy’s goals in consecutive games record was amazing, but was instantly a better achievement. Why? Vardy did it in one season and scored less penalties. And crucially, he did it whilst playing for little old Leicester.

Subs: Tim Flowers, Gerry Taggert, Robbie Savage, Steve Guppy, Marc Albrighton, Steve Claridge, Esteban Cambiasso

I don’t think I’ve ever been as excited for a City game that I couldn’t attend. I was even offered tickets for it by more than one person, but with a weekend of Christmas gigs up in Liverpool it would have been impossible to watch the game and work in the evening. And Smallman has to pay the bills, you know what I’m saying.

So I went online and asked friends on Facebook and Twitter to suggest a game for me where I could also try and watch our game afterwards AND get over to Albert Dock in Liverpool for showtime. Smashing bearded comic and chum Freddy Quinne suggested Chorley vs Skelmersdale in the FA Trophy third qualifying round, and I was sold.

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I much prefer watching games with other people. I have a lot of my adventures on my own and that’s fine, but when I know of friends in the comedy world who love football as much as me then I always get a bit giddy about attending a game with them. And at this time of year we need all the company we can get to cheer ourselves up. Why?

Because it’s ruddy Christmas.

Regular readers of my words will be aware that at the end of every November it all goes tits up for comedy work. Not due to a lack of gigs, far from it. It’s due to having to entertain many tedious idiots out on their work parties, with maybe ten per cent of audiences wanting to have a laugh and the other ninety per cent there to try and have sex with a colleague and enjoy free drinks courtesy of their boss.  It’s often utterly horrid. Up until this point I was actually having a good weekend of shows in Liverpool, but you’re always on your guard. All comedians will take the chance to escape the circuit and have a laugh at this point, trust me.

I’ve never been to Chorley. I reckon I’ve been to most places in the UK thanks to comedy and football, but never Chorley. My only real reference for the place are the Peter Kay / Phoenix Nights spin-off “Chorley FM: Coming In Your Ears” car stickers that were en vogue a few years back. I also imagine that Chorley FM would play the music of En Vogue.

This would mark my second ever FA Trophy game, following on from a visit to Hastings in season one that remains one of my favourite experiences. That had a speedway track, a sending off, a gaggle of pensioners watching for free through some bushes and a Brazilian playing for Hastings after arriving from Malta (and falling on his arse with his first touch). Chorley had a lot to live up to, but I had high hopes.

First off, how can you not like a football club that started as a rugby club and then realised that sport was bobbins and that they should just change? That’s the opposite of how rugby was invented, of the legends are to be believed. Chorley have been at the wonderfully named Victory Park since 1920 and you know me, I’m a sucker for some history.

Then there’s the fact that this game was, ostensibly, a local derby. Skelmersdale is Just sixteen miles away, and although they’re a tier below Chorley (Northern Premier to Conference North) you would imagine that they’ve met a few times in the past and there must be a rivalry.

Both teams have attracted stars at the beginning and end of their careers. Chorley are currently managed by Matt Jansen, a player who was touted as being the future of English football until injuries curtailed his career. They were formerly managed by Garry Flitcroft, who my father genuinely thought was called “Barry Flipflop” for many years until he had his ears syringed.

Skelmersdale was the first club of Liverpool legend Steve Heighway, notorious for being a bit of a “super sub” (according to my first ever sticker album that had him down as a club legend, rightfully so) and playing 444 times in the greatest Liverpool side of all time. Imagine that, a young lad taken in his early twenties from Skelmersdale to Liverpool and becoming a club legend. Echoes the story of Jamie Vardy a little bit there, I reckon.

On my drive to Chorley I half expected it to be called off, as I drove through rivers of water on the M6 and the country roads outside the town were waterlogged. I also drove past an antiques place that I remember going to with my dad when he owned a pub and it was the done thing to fill the walls full of memorabilia. I remember spending a day thee choosing many different types of earthenware jugs and glass cases containing football cards.

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Victory Park is nestled away in the middle of a housing estate in Chorley. From the outside, there is nothing to give away the existence of a football ground, it’s small capacity not giving rise to massive floodlights that you can see from miles away. The only giveaway from the road is a small car park and a steady trickle of fans in black and white scarves making their way to see the Magpies.

On the whole “Magpie” nickname, surely that’s most apt for a team that has unjustly stolen a lot of silverware?

Freddy was caught up in traffic, so I waited in my car until he arrived. He’s a smashing lad that I’ve got to know better over the past year or so. He’s also, ironically. A Manchester United fan. When he suggested the Chorley game to me and insisted on joining me, I knew it was the right choice. He’s not a fan of football for the sake of it, he’s as nerdy and daft as I am.

When he arrived, I met him as he was queuing for tickets in the office / club shop, only to be told that we could pay on the gate. Freddy has a beard and I’m always impressed at how much it suits him. If he wasn’t a comedian, he would be a fine sea captain or circus strongman.

What happens when most comedians get together is that we quickly gossip about our industry, and then we fix it with some simple solutions, forgetting that it’s a bit out of our hands and actually controlled by a cabal of non-comedians making deals in the offices of showbiz agents in that London. But we can dream, dammit. Both me and Freddy work as MCs a lot, meaning that we don’t get to work together all that often. We do both take that role very seriously though, and spent a good twenty minutes discussing the art of being a good MC. Here are the results of the chat:

1: Don’t be selfish. You’re there to make the whole night work, not get all the attention for yourself.

2: Don’t do 25 minutes before the headliner just because the gig is nice.

That’s basically it. Freddy is one of those acts that everyone should feel safe in the hands of, MC or set. He’s got the intelligence to read an audience and furthermore, he genuinely cares about being good. He’s got an album of his standup out at the moment, I heartily endorse checking it out.

It was still hammering down as I got some food from the little hut known as the Magpies Nest. As we walked in, one lad serving behind the counter tried to remove his jumper as he was warm. Working with two girls of the same age as himself, he removed his jumper but his t-shirt went with it, then he panicked and tried to hide as he struggled to undress himself in a civilised manner. The girls giggled. Everyone definitely noticed that he had made a bit of an arse of himself.

Before I went to Chorley, I would have expected to be able to buy chips and gravy in the stadium. I was not disappointed. I also grabbed a cheeseburger and the whole lot only came to £4.80 (and it was pretty bloody decent). The rain intensified as we sat down on the bench seating in the large main stand that may be one of the oldest that I have sat in on my travels. The teams tried to carry on warming up without being too thrown by the conditions, but it was the sort of rain that hits you so hard that you have to crouch down a bit to take the impact.

We did the classic thing of presuming one of the Skelmersdale subs was brilliant based on the tricks he was doing in his warmup, without considering if he was particularly special that he wouldn’t be at Skelmersdale in the first place (no offence intended). We’ve all done that, it’s even worse than watching a YouTube video and presuming a player is godlike (Leicester fans will remember Hossein Kaebi for that). I’ve always judged keepers based on their warm ups until I realised that by that token I’ve always thought every sub keeper was a world beater as they take more shots before a match.

I made my point to Freddy about pitches being pretty decent these days – even at non league level – and then realised that the weather may change that later on. But at the time it was holding up well as the teams retreated from their warm up. I also discussed the game at Solihull last week, which was an enjoyable experience on the terrace but easily the worst game of football that I had ever seen.  I was really hoping for better things in Chorley.

The teams came out for the first half and fans were still coming in. There are two “proper” stands at Victory Park: the main stand that we sat in, and a small covered end that looks equally as old. Then the other side and end are uncovered, and a few hardy fans stood in those areas in the rain. It certainly seemed to be a decent attendance though, and where we sat we had a lot of fans around us helping everyone to collectively keep warm.

Chorley’s kit is fetchingly set off by having gold numbers on the back, giving them a regal air compared to the simple blue of Skelmersdale. The away side managed to have a sponsor that looks like the football manager logo from a distance though, so that’s something. As we kicked off, both sides really went for it, the nature of it being a cup game and the weather adding to the frenetic nature.

It was already a better game than last week, and Chorley had a couple of lads who looked to be real quality. Up front was James Dean, a big number nine who looks nothing like his screen idol counterpart. Deceptively skilful for a big old beast of a chap, he was at the forefront of every good sequence in the first half. Freddy told me he’s their leading scorer, and he looked dangerous every time he had the ball. It seemed a bit strange that they didn’t repeatedly pump balls into the box for him to get on the end of, because he looked like he could easily overpower both of the Skem centre backs.

Darren Stephenson also looked useful, running at defenders as often as he could. It was proper end to end stuff, we were just lacking in decent chances for either side as the first half came to a close. The weather certainly made it interesting though, and Freddy pointed out how utterly ruined the pitch was after the first half. It was fun to see a goalkeeper actually covered in mud like the old days, as Skelmersdale’s Fearon trudged off the pitch like a man desperately in need of a hot bath.

The PA played “Right Here, Right Now” by Fatboy Slim as we went into the 15 minute break, causing me and Freddy to discuss the most played songs at football grounds.  I reckon that’s well up there alongside “Ready To Go” by Republica and “Let Me Entertain You” by Robbie Williams.

We decided to have a bit of a wander ahead of the second half, the joy of non-league games meaning no segregation. A lot of Chorley fans made their way to the covered end as their side would be attacking that goal in the second half, whilst the Skelmersdale fans had the luck of the rain stopping so they could happily stand at the uncovered opposite end.

One Skem fan had brought an air horn with him.  Every time the Chorley keeper would attempt a clearance, he would let out a short blast on it in order to try and distract him.  This is a tactic that I have not seen employed for many, many years (although wrestling fans will want to look up the guy in the USA who goes to CZW shows and employs the same tactic when wrestlers try to talk on the microphone).

I always feel bad saying anything rude about any players at non-league level, as during my time at Hastings I am certain that I was stood next to one of the player’s parents.  You run that risk in a small crowd, that’s for certain.  I’d hate to be haranguing a winger and get clipped round the ear by his mum.

Chorley started the second half with on-loan Wigan striker Sam Cosgrove coming on for Lewis Guy in the 53rd minute.  He’s another big lad, even taller than James Dean, and he was also a handful for the Skelmersdale defence but couldn’t find a breakthrough.  He went really close before Dean clipped the post after Cosgrove had set him up.  Skem would sit back, absorb the pressure and then occasionally break forwards at pace  There may not have been goals, but their was effort from both sides and a good atmosphere as the massed Chorley fans standing behind the one goal really tried to make as much noise as they could.

It was painfully obvious that Chorley needed to pump some crosses into the box as the pitch got cut up, but they kept trying to play football.  We should probably applaud this, but with massive lads like Dean and Cosgrove in the box it would have made a lot of sense.  Every cross that did come in was low or mis-hit, much to the frustration of the crowd.

Skelmersdale brought on a substitute, and both me and Freddy noticed just how big a backside he had.  He wasn’t fat, he was just pear shaped.  My wife has a weird thing where chaps with disproportionately fat arses make her unreasonably angry.  It’s the main reason that I maintain a gym membership.

With the final whistle approaching, we wondered out loud if we were to get extra time and maybe the prospect of penalties.  Nobody around us seemed to know the definitive answer… until the referee called for full time and everyone trudged away as the rain began again.  That certainly answered that question.

There’s clearly a reason why Chorley have decent attendances for a small club (over 1,000 per game last season).  It’s a club with a great vibe to it, and the old stand just feels like a great place to watch football (even if we both wished that we’d brought our own cushions like some fans had).  You can’t argue with £8 for a game either.

Of course, my footballing day wasn’t over.  I tried to find somewhere to watch the Leicester game to no avail.  So I drove to Warrington services and hoped to get fast enough wifi in there to watch the game on my iPad, again no luck.  In the end I sat in my car eating KFC and drinking hot chocolate as Jamie Vardy broke the Premier League record for consecutive games scored in and my beloved club remained joint top.

Look, we all know it won’t last, but let me dare to dream.  The league table currently looks like I’ve been cheating on Football Manager.

Summary:

Chorley 0 vs Skelmersdale United 0

Attendance: 559

Cost: Ticket £8, Parking Free (street), Burger Chips and Gravy £4.80

Fun Factor: 8/10