The Football Neutral

The Football Neutral: Match Six – Hereford United vs Dartford

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2013-10-12 15.18.30

This is now an edited version of the original blog… you can read the full one by downloading my Football Neutral 2013/14 season review on Kindle.  Well over 300 pages of daftness. Less than £2! Thanks!

…Having checked the fixtures on Friday it became clear that I had to travel a long way to watch a game on the Saturday.  With those bloody annoying women in my head as I returned to my hotel, it seemed that Hereford was the best bet for a game.  I’d been there before, watching Leicester draw 0-0 in the FA Cup 3rd Round with them years back, a game that I remember fondly for two reasons.

Firstly, upon arriving we parked in the official car park.  It was a cold and frosty day (when has 3rd round day ever been anything else?) and we spotted the one and only John Motson clambering onto a precarious TV gantry wearing his trusty sheepskin.  We shouted at him, and as he turned to wave at us he slipped and nearly fell 30 feet to the floor.  Me and two mates nearly killed one of the greatest commentators the game has ever known.

The second moment was only seen by me, and I am still protesting years on that this actually happened.  The away end was next to some traffic lights that we could see from the height of the terracing.  At some point during the first half, a cattle truck pulled up at the lights.  Whilst everyone else was distracted by the game, I found myself drawn to the truck and like magic, one sole cow pulled itself up at the head of the truck, looked at me, and then lowered itself down again.  I nudged my friends to see if they’d seen it and they haven’t believed me since.

I expected to attend Hereford vs Dartford with Nathan, but his chicken binge the previous night had left him feeling quite unwell.  As I set off – on a dreary day, missing home and my fiancee terribly – I realised that Hereford was halfway home and the temptation to skip the game and my gig that night was quite high.

I also cursed the League of Wales for not having enough teams in South Wales, although I can kind of understand it with the dominance of Cardiff, Swansea and now Newport.  I really wanted to watch Merthyr Town play, but their game was scheduled for Sunday.  So with no choice, a 120 mile round trip it was.

I parked in the same car park where I nearly killed John Motson years before, a car park that on this day was more full of shoppers than football fans.  Crucially, nobody apart from me seemed interested in paying for their parking or sticking to the assigned bays.

The matchday experience started well, as I had the best burger I’ve had in a long time at a game.  Thinking about it, this should be expected, with my pre-match treat no doubt made of a descendent of the cow that winked at me a decade ago.  It did, shut up…

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The Football Neutral: Match Five – Hastings United vs Brentwood Town

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2013-10-05 14.36.37

This is now an edited version of the original blog… you can read the full one by downloading my Football Neutral 2013/14 season review on Kindle.  Well over 300 pages of daftness. Less than £2! Thanks!

…fun to see at halftime were the noisy Hastings supporters who had take up residence behind the goal they were attacking in the first half… move to the other end for the second half.  And what excellent fans – clearly love their club, singing songs and getting into the game despite the lowly level and the small crowd.

It was interesting to see how many kids were at the game too, often with Grandparents.  From what I saw Hastings is an excellent place to take along a family, although you’ll have to explain the swearing to the little ones.  Not from the crowd, but from the players if the Brentwood lads are any kind of example.

The poor, frightened referee could barely settle in to the second half when he was forced to send off the Hastings number 6 for a two footed challenge.  It seemed feisty but not exactly evil, but the Brentwood players surround him screaming “fucking do something!” and “what the fucking hell was that” seemed to make the poor lad reluctantly pull out the red card to the chagrin of the home crowd.  Credit to the lad sent off though, he didn’t whine and merely trudged away.

The worst offender amongst the Brentwood lot for swearing was their manager, bearing in mind I could hear him and I was at least 50 yards away.  No wonder his team play a certain way if he’s their example.

Hasting sacrificed the tricky yet tubby (honestly, I’m thinner than him and haven’t played football for 10 years) Jordan Woodley for another centre back and Brentwood tried to push on.  Rolls and Love picked up bookings (the latter was wonderful, he seemed almost in tears as he exploded with rage, got booked, then carried on whining).

Hastings’ Pogue had worked hard and was brought off – to be replaced by the exciting young Brazilian.  First impression of Rodrigo Branco was that he needs to eat.  A lot.  Maybe take some off the plate of his fitness coach and Jordan Woodley.  There was a buzz around the ground, anticipation of the samba football that young Rodrigo would provide.

He received the ball for his first touch and he was all of a sudden clean through… he went to round the keeper and…

… fell over.

Everybody laughed.  Including Rodrigo, to be fair.  And we all thought that’s it, he’s obviously not very good.  Brentwood went up the other end and Steven Carvell pulled one back after a shot cannoned off the bar.  The man next to me nudged me and said “It’s like Guernsey all over again” which I presume he means a recent game, not some kind of bank heist he was involved in…

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The Football Neutral: Match Four – Aldershot Town vs Wrexham

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2013-09-21 15.07.10

This is now an edited version of the original blog… you can read the full one by downloading my Football Neutral 2013/14 season review on Kindle.  Well over 300 pages of daftness. Less than £2! Thanks!

…I’ve noticed when choosing games so far this season that it always just geographical proximity to my weekend’s worth of work that has me gravitate towards one team in particular.  Whilst much of this week’s choice was based around having to do a kids gig that finished at 2pm in Windsor (more on that in a bit), once I started looking at the fixtures it was easy to make a decision.

That said, picking Aldershot Town as my team of the day is fraught with issues.  Firstly, one of my best friends (and business partner) Jon is a Woking supporter.  He hates Aldershot with a burning passion, or as much of an incandescent rage that a polite man from Surrey can muster.  Secondly, they were up against Wrexham who happen to now be my geographically local club.

OK, they’re not the closest club to my house in North Wales (that would be Airbus UK Broughton FC from the League of Wales) but I drive past their ground every time I have to head south and that makes them feel closer.  Plus I’m of Welsh heritage, so living there means I should probably take at least a passing interest in my nearest club and I remember them knocking Arsenal out of the cup years ago when I had a paper round, the Sunday People on that cold January morning resplendent with a picture of Mickey Thomas’ toothy grin.

So why did I pick Aldershot Town?  First off, it’s easy to want to go and support a club for the day that has risen from the ashes after financial disaster.  Secondly, when I was 13 years old and really getting into football, my PE teacher (Mr Hayes) was a former Aldershot player and staunch supporter, and on the day they went bust he told a load of us about it and genuinely had a tear in his eye.  At that stage in my life I had decided to support Leicester City, but still wasn’t at the point where I was that emotionally attached to my own club.  I remembered that years later when I cried my eyes out as they turned off the floodlights at Filbert Street following our final game there, a friendly against Celtic.

As an aside, it is not acceptable to cry on the last day of the season when your team is relegated.  Why?  Because you’ve been awful all season, that’s why you’re in trouble. How is it a surprise?  The only time it is acceptable is if you think you’re safe and then have the rug pulled from under you like those Sheffield United fans at Stamford Bridge years back.  The rest of the time it’s just showing off for the cameras or being unnecessarily soft…

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The Football Neutral: Match Three – Dagenham & Redbridge vs Exeter City

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Pitchside!

Pitchside!

This is now an edited version of the original blog… you can read the full one by downloading my Football Neutral 2013/14 season review on Kindle.  Well over 300 pages of daftness. Less than £2! Thanks!

…Northern Line to London Bridge, Jubilee Line to West Ham, District Line to Dagenham East.  Londoners don’t half complain about the tube, but I bloody love it.  You can hear the tutting and sighing when the locals have to wait 3 minutes for a train, but where I live we only have two buses a week, and they stop in the middle of  nowhere and you have to ride a sheep to your final destination.

I was having to concede defeat in the whole coat-wearing saga, as I was now so hot it was making me feel faint.  I took it off and stood by a window vent on the District Line train, trying desperately to suck in a bit of cool air.  Then laughed to myself a bit, because when I went to games with my Dad as a kid he was obsessed with me wearing a coat, and I would do whatever I could to not wear one.

We’d leave for games and he’d do a check on how many layers I was wearing, and the only way I could ever avoid having to wear a coat over my City shirt (at the time it would have been a bright white Diadora managers jacket that was just hideous) was to wear two t-shirts, then a long sleeved t-shirt, then a jumper, then a fleece then my City shirt stretched over the top.  I’d struggle to get through doors.  And this was for pre-season friendlies in July.

I could see two Exeter fans in the same carriage as me as the tube got closer to the east end.  One was wearing an Exeter shirt, the other just a scarf.  As we approached Upton Park they both hid their stuff – shirt chap put on a hoodie and scarf boy tucked it away.  They talked about West Ham in hushed tones, shuffling nervously in their seats.  I can only presume – as they were only young lads – that they have been raised on a diet of Danny Dyer films and TV shows and think that the areas around the Boleyn Ground is a dangerous war zone where all away fans are taken to one side and beaten with socks full of snooker balls.

I went to a City vs West Ham game once where I went to the game on the tube, wearing a blue retro shirt, surrounded by West Ham fans and not a thing was said apart from one chap wishing me good luck.

At another station, three more Exeter fans got on the carriage.  I knew they were Exeter fans because despite not wearing colours or acknowledging their fellow two fans on the train, they had the accent and then proceeded to try and act tough by putting their feet up on chairs (THE HORROR!) and swearing.  A couple of tough looking Polish chaps got on the tube and the next stop and they immediately started behaving.  I’d get more annoyed about them, but they could only have been 18, once again there’s the potential Danny Dyer influence and more to the point, I used to act like that in my youth.  I was a proper prick…

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The Football Neutral: Match Two – Shrewsbury Town vs Coventry City

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SPIRIT OF 79!

SPIRIT OF 79!

This is now an edited version of the original blog… you can read the full one by downloading my Football Neutral 2013/14 season review on Kindle.  Well over 300 pages of daftness. Less than £2! Thanks!

…I set off for the game from North Wales fairly late on, forgetting that the A5 between Oswestry and Shrewsbury has more roundabouts than some kind of playground supplies warehouse.  Parking was easy though, as I massively cheated.  Kev let me park on his drive and it was a short 15 minute walk to the ground.  It seems that everyone else going to the game thought the same thing, as Kev noticed hordes of Coventry fans wandering by his window during the afternoon.

Kev started in comedy at roughly the same time as me eight years ago and also used to run a fantastic gig at the Old Post Office in Shrewsbury (which is still going under new management).  It’s a shame for the comedy world that he packed it in (due to clashes with his other career, I believe) because I used to look forward to working with him no end.  Brilliant joke writer, lovely chap and knows his football.  He isn’t a Shrews fan though, despite the season ticket.  He’s a staunch West Ham supporter, but buys a season ticket for him and his 7 year old son Jonathan every year almost – as he put it – “as a community donation” as they can’t get to every match because Jonathan is both an aspiring footballer and cricketer.

I do material onstage discussing how much I love my daughter but I generally pretty much hate all other children. This isn’t just a joke, I really hate them.  I can honestly say that Jonathan is now on the list of cool kids that I can happily hang out with.  On the walk to the ground he listened eagerly to me and his Dad chatting away, he asked about my tattoos and at one point offered me sweets in a brilliantly suspicious way, like a diminutive dealer of jellies.  Not the ones they like in Glasgow.

He was in fact trying to alert me to the Shrewsbury mascot, who throws sweets out at the fans.  I presumed the mascot would be a giant shrew, but it turns out it’s a lion. A bloody LION.

My first ever sticker album was Football 86.  Shrewsbury were in the second tier back then, and you got a sticker of their whole team posing along with half a shiny for their badge.  Their badge – this being the eighties – was a wonderful line drawing of a Shrew.  I can still see it now, what an amazing badge!  There needs to be more line drawing badges like that and Leicester’s awful walking fox one from the same era.

But a lion?  Kev explained the evolution of the badge to me as moving from a Shrew – IT’S IN THE BLOODY NAME OF THE TOWN – to what he called a “generic clip art lion”.  I could not be more disappointed.  Why must clubs shun the tiny woodland mammals in favour of the big cats of the Serengeti?…

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The Football Neutral: Match One – Bristol City vs Wolves

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Look at this over-excited idiot.

Look at this over-excited idiot.

This is now an edited version of the original blog… you can read the full one by downloading my Football Neutral 2013/14 season review on Kindle.  Well over 300 pages of daftness. Less than £2! Thanks!

…Miniscule Potential Problems For A Worrier

Ashton Gate is a proper stadium.  I know we don’t get standing at many grounds these days, but there’s something charming about Bristol City’s little ground.  Some fairly new stands, some corners that look like they should be condemned, each side a different height. I’m never one for those “bowl” type stadia.  Research told me that, in theory, there are two popular ends – fitting in with my rules of going where the noise and the fun is.  My decision was made for me though, as the small area (1200 seats or so) that are allocated to home fans in the Wedlock Stand – more affectionately known as the East End – had sold out upon my arrival.  Apparently this is where the “East End Ultras” congregate.

I have an issue with British fans using the term “Ultras”.  In Europe, Ultras are both massive in number and noise, with choreographed displays, enormous flags, flares and occasionally despicable political views.  In Britain this just seems to translate as “the small section of the crowd where we’ve got license to act like knobs”.

I certainly didn’t see any such behaviour from the City fans on Saturday from the East End, but equally they didn’t seem to be louder than the end where I ended up – the Atyeo Stand.  Buying a ticket there led to my first problem of the day.  As I queued up with the locals, I became incredibly aware that my accent is closer to Wolverhampton than Bristol, and also that I had no idea how to pronounce the name of the stand I wanted to sit in.  This caused genuine panic for several minutes.  Think about it.  How would you pronounce it?  I reasoned that AT – YE – OH was the best option.

I was wrong.

Luckily, the woman in the ticket booth gently corrected me – it’s ATTY – OH – and immediately made my day by asking how old I was.  When I replied with the genuine answer – I’m 35 – she giggled and told me that I looked 21.  Maybe it’s the lack of sunlight in my life, maybe it was the baseball cap covering my male pattern baldness, maybe she had glaucoma.  She was nice, as was the woman who sold me a burger and the woman who sold me a pie, all ruddy cheeked 40 or 50 somethings with glorious west country accents and I imagine 3 or 4 well turned out kids each and a husband with a well stocked shed and a lot of tomato plants.

My panic over pronunciation led to me starting to fear other aspects of the game:  Would I stick out like a sore thumb and be somehow rumbled as an interloper by a cabal of City fans?  Even worse, could I check the Leicester score without looking like some kind of disheveled hooligan scout for a game that wasn’t even on the fixture list?…

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What’s All This About Then?

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Here's me then.

Here’s me then.

Should you know much about me, you’ll be aware that I’m a huge football fan.  Massive. I’ve loved it since the first match I watched on Television (Dundee United vs Roma, UEFA Cup Semi Final, 1984) and I’ll talk about it at any chance I get, usually turning the subject around to my beloved Leicester City.

Last campaign was the first since my early teens that I didn’t have a season ticket to watch City, because in recent years work as a comedian has kept me away from Leicester on Saturdays.  For the uninitiated, as a comic you’re often marooned in a hotel somewhere in the UK for a whole weekend, left desperately filling time as best you can.  I am not very good at this, so can often be found just wasting time sleeping in my car once the Travelodge has booted me out, or watching a film that I never wanted to see in the first place (probably starring Tom cruise, and I HATE him).

I have also voluntarily taken myself far away from the city of my birth by moving to Wales to be with my fiancee.  She’s ace, and allows me to have Sky Sports, but I do miss the buzz of watching a game every weekend.

So I’ve had an idea.

Every Saturday afternoon from September until the end of the season, I’ll go and watch a football match close by to where I’m performing that evening.  If by a strange quirk of diary I’m not working, then I’ll still seek out a football match.  Then every week I’ll write up my experiences here, and (fingers crossed) hopefully release the whole thing, unabridged and with photos and extra stuff as a book when the season concludes.

The seeds of this idea were sowed a year ago when I was passing by Swindon on my way to working in Bath, and sought out my friend Ivo Graham (currently wowing audiences in Edinburgh at the Fringe).  We watched Swindon draw 2-2 with Coventry, and it was one of the best afternoons I’d had in ages.  Football, visiting a different stadium, experiencing sitting in the popular end of a club that wasn’t Leicester, pies, Paulo Di Canio virtually having a seizure – the day had it all.  And now, I want to do it again.  Lots.

I have set myself a few rules, however.

1:  No Premier League games.  First off, I’ve been to every stadium in the top flight anyway, but I want to experience football on every other level.  There’s no lower limit, and I’ll be honest and say that I want to go and see a fiercely contested FA Vase game in the middle of nowhere if that’s where my travels have taken me.

2:  No visiting the same place twice.  For example, I gig in Bristol a lot.  So if I’m there four times during the season, I can’t go to Ashton Gate four times – especially when there are a load more places for me to visit nearby.

3:  Whatever ground I visit, I must make the home team my own for the day and support them as enthusiastically as I possibly can.  Even if it ends up being Coventry or Forest.

4:  I must sit or stand in the “popular end” of whatever stadium I visit.  No prawn sandwich brigade for me, nor taking freebies from clubs.  I want to pay my money and go through the turnstile with proper fans.

5:  This is the hardest one.  I must not, even if I end up being in the same town as them at the same time, sneakily watch Leicester City.  I don’t think that’ll help me learn anything about the so-called “Beautiful Game” – and there’s a fair chance that I’ll end up miserable before my gig in the evening.

Them’s the rules.  With those in place, it’s time for me to start looking at my diary and some fixture lists and making some plans.  Every Saturday is up for grabs, and at the moment my gig diary is nicely full – there is only one exception (I cannot work on November 9th due to personal commitments) and I’ll keep updating it as and when gigs come in for 2014.  Check out my diary page here.

I’ll also be looking for people to hang out with me at games.  Sometimes they’ll be the comics I’m working with that weekend (me and Paul Pirie once had an excellent afternoon watching Rochdale vs MK Dons), but I’d also like to hear from superfans and supporters clubs who are willing to have a heavily tattooed comedian hang out with them on the terraces and enjoy, for one day only, supporting their club.  So if you see that I’m headed your way (or you happen to be a publisher interested in the final book), please get in touch.

I’ll announce on Twitter every week the game that I’m planning on taking in that weekend, so make sure you follow me on there if this is the sort of sport-based daftness that you’ll enjoy.

I’ll put the match reports / experiences / travelogues up here and on my actual website too, so you can read them and hopefully smile.

I’m really excited about this! Spread the word if you see fit, and I’ll probably bump into one or two of you somewhere out there in football-land.

AMENDMENT: 16th September

I’m really enjoying this so far, three games in – and I’ve realised that the odd diary clash will mean that I can’t always go to a game on a Saturday.  I’ve also realised that I really want to watch even more games, fill in the odd Tuesday here and there and experience as much as I can.  So my little project has been changed from being called “It’s What Saturdays Are For” to “The Football Neutral” because it’s way easier to remember!