Football ⚽️ Music 🎵 Culture
Article Featured in Issue 43 of Football Weekends Magazine April 2019…..available now at WHSmith’s……can also read via the original post which was printed in the View From the Allotment End Fanzine back in October 2018 and is featured on this website.
To purchase a copy on line go to the following website: https://www.footballweekends.co.uk/about-our-mag/
Article featured in issue 15 March 2019 of The Black Watch fanzine…..
by Michael Conboy.
They said the streets were paved with gold, Transalpino rail tickets have a lot to answer for!
The student travel agency was the company of choice for many travelling supporters not due to the prices but due to the fact the tickets could be easily “changed” with a little bit of creativity and ingenuity. The destination on the tickets could be rubbed out with a decent ink rubber and a more exotic location put in its place, somewhere like Munchen which was renowned for its many designer sportswear outlets.
Many of these shops were known to have trainers on display in pairs, which was unheard of in England. For the more light-fingered football fan this was kid in a sweet shop stuff. The other attraction was the stocking of rare Adidas trainers only seen on the continent.
In the 80’s the only two things that mattered to me were football and music, I suspect around 1984 at my middle school we all started to be more conscious about what we were wearing, I remember games lessons in bleak winter mornings shivering like an extra from Kes but also eyes open to what my class mates had on their feet. I came from a working-class family both parents working in the public sector so I could beg and moan and get them to buy the latest football boots. I definitely remember my first pair being Puma, they soon got coated with mud on the top playing field.
Just to put things in context pre-1984 we were all stood in the play ground grey skies above in black Donkey Jackets with the faux leather on the shoulders, doc boots and turned up jeans. Bleak times, the smell of Benson and Hedges made us feel like we were fresh from down the pit.
About that time, I had started smoking cigars, age 13 this was the only contraband we could get from round at the shops with a hand-written note signed “Dad”.
After school what was important to me was BMX bikes, music, smoking and clothes. I was born in the house I grew up in which was in a Cul-De-Sac, I lived with my parents and my Sister who famously dropped me down the back of a wardrobe and tried to knife me with a spoon.
I had been smoking cigars for a few Months when my mate from school came out with a Capstan Super Strength, “Connie, my Dad smokes these”, brilliant I thought, taking a big drag and choking inside, feeling dizzy and extremely unwell, cheers mate I said that was brilliant.
I got on my BMX and rode home, the heat in my throat didn’t matter, I ate a few mints and park my BMX in the back of the garage. 17.50 I had ten minutes to spare before the 18.00 tea time deadline.
Its Friday night which is Fish tea in our house hold, no time to go to my bed room I wash my hands and join the family table opposite my sister.
I start to tuck into my fish but am distracted by a sniffing noise, I look up my Dad has got that face and is breathing in and out……” I can smell smoke?” he says, my Sister looks at me with an almost mocking smile, she knows…. I know, I just need to keep my composure, he catches my eye. “Has someone been Smoking?”.
Not me I say it was him from next door, anything to get me through this. We used to stash our fags in a polythene bag in the woods, we would go back to those 20 Silk Cut weeks or Months later and they would be insect ridden and mouldy, they still smoked great, the damp flavour of bark and dead insects.
We used to hang around in the woods at the back of our house, I remember around 1985 things started to change from a fashion perspective. I will never forget a mate coming down the woods and he was actually only going for a dentist appointment but he was dressed in grey Farah’s, pink La Coste polo shirt and Pink La Coste cardigan, a life changing moment for all involved, he had a tooth extracted I had seen the promised land!
Men wearing pink!! But It looked so good, almost like a reverse aggressive look. Little did we know as 14-year-old lads that this effeminate look was being adopted across the football terraces.
Flick hair to cover one eye, like the cover of the David Bowie Low album. I remember a lad in my class bleached his flick blonde. There was talk of other lads dying their various colours all part of the posturing that went with that look, a look familiar with the New Romantic’s but much more aggressive.
In these early days of the casual movement the look was changing constantly, but I think my strongest look was the middleclass golfer, Farah Slacks preferably Grey or Black, a bright coloured polo shirt which had to be La Coste at that time matched with a Pringle jumper. Footwear was always Adidas for me there were a lot of Trimm Trabs around at the time. I think a lot of their domination and fascination was down to one-man Robert Wade Smith from Liverpool.
The legend goes that Wade Smith arranged a deal with an unknown German independent retailer and travelled maverick style in a van over to Germany on the ferry with his life savings of Seven Thousand pounds.
Meeting the German, he showed Wade Smith the stock, he could not believe how much there was, all the rare Adidas, Forest Hills, many of the City Series and 400 pairs of Trimm Trab. Blown away with this find he had to stay calm and business like and asked how much the German wanted for his stock. Pondering for while the German lays all his cards on the table and says he wants Twenty-Eight Thousand Deutsche Mark and is happy to wait for a Bankers Draft if the deal is done.
Looking the retailer in the eye and smiling widely Wide Smith says you have a deal and are you ok if I pay you in cash, the German looked white and faint, in all his years in retail he had never sold over 400 pairs of trainers and never seen so many Deutsche Mark!
Heading back home to Liverpool in the van with his life savings in Adidas trainers in the back was a nervous journey to say the least. Back on dry land he opened the now famous “Wade Smith” sports shop, in 3 weeks he sold all 400 pairs of Trimm Trab……the rest is history!
My first pair of Adidas trainers were the Kick, I think they were the school trainers of choice by most early teenage boys, black and white like a young sibling of the Samba. They blended in with the school uniform and went unnoticed by the power-hungry school teachers who were forced involuntarily to stand in the freezing cold at play times watching over the pupils in the playground. I soon upgraded to what is now a staple favourite the “Jeans” there were only two choices of colours in the 80’s the blue or the red. The red was quite a bold statement to say the least and like the bleached flick fringe and pink cardigan quite a bold look to pull off.
I opted obviously for the blue ones, had to beg and moan to my Mum for a while but I finally wore her down (hope she doesn’t read this). The day arrived and we went into town to get them, I couldn’t wait to get home on the bus to get them on and show them off to the lads up the woods. There is something magical about that blue box!
It was a winters afternoon after school I got to wear the brand new Adidas Jeans for the first time, they looked great with the charcoal Farah’s and lambswool V neck Pringle jumper, just the outfit for riding the BMX up the woods, I wouldn’t have looked out of place on the 18th tee on the Old Course at St Andrews, followed by a Glenfiddich in the members lounge with the Rabbits Secretary.
Midway up the woods we had lovingly designed and self manufactured a set of jumps, for a group of 14-year old’s this was quite an ambitious landscaping project! In between Maths homework, trying to organise the Cul-de-sac football league and setting fire to anything dry and flammable we had done extremely well. I must add this was manual work, and at this time most of us were smoking a King Edward cigar on a daily basis subject to availability and how dry they were in our hiding place, so at times we did struggle for breath.
Tackling the jumps in my new Adidas Jeans I was getting a lot of height on my DP Firebird Freestyler BMX, feeling confident I thought I might as well tackle the biggest jump before my tea which went over shallow beck. Taking a run up I pedalled as hard as I could, by that time I had committed to the jump. I hit it at some speed and handled it well unfortunately on landing the CW bars on my bike became lose in the clamp and I plummeted over the handle bars, hitting the soft ground I wasn’t injured just coated in mud, there was no chance I would be allowed into the Members lounge of the St Andrews Golf Club now!
Dusting myself down and picking my bike up I look down, a feeling of dread engulfs me….my brand-new Adidas Jeans trainers were covered in mud.
I am almost frozen in shock, it was first time I have worn them and they were ruined. What would my Mum say?
Before I could think about anything else, I hear a loud voice shouting “YOUR TEA IS READY!!!” That was my jungle call for me to go home, very subtle!
I take my muddied trainers off and put them in the garage and make my way inside for my tea. Comments are made by both parents, where are your new trainers? I confess, leaving out the full details of the BMX carnage. To my surprise the old man offers to clean them for me, he must have forgotten the previous family meal were Inspector Poirot smelt a cigarette in the dining room.
A few days pass, dodging school work and avoiding setting myself on fire I feel the need to wear the newly cleaned with such tender love and care Adidas Jeans.
The garage is locked so I ask for key and excitedly make my way to the garage, its always a challenge opening these doors. The key doesn’t fit properly, but it looks like the door has been forced open. A break in? a real case for Inspector Poirot! He is probably too busy getting fingerprint swabs from discarded tab ends somewhere.
I look around, nothing seems to have been stolen. My beloved Firebird Freestyler is still there and the old mans 3rd set of golf clubs seem untouched. So, it looks like we have been very lucky and nothing is missing. But hang on a minute what about my freshly cleaned trainers? Looking around I could not find them anywhere. But in the middle of the garage floor was a dirty protest! It was definitely not Charlie the family cat she was not big enough to be the rightful owner of that.
So it looks like we did have a thief after all, and he must have been caught short!
After weeks of investigation and forensics by Inspector Poirot AKA my Dad, it was decided the perpetrators must have been from the local borstal at the top of the street. Charlie the cat was in the clear and was never brought in for questioning and asked to provide a stool sample!
Article Featured in issue 33 February 2019 of Berwick Rangers Supporters Trust magazine…..by Michael Conboy.
I wake up shivering for the second day in a row, pulling the duvet over my head I release a big sigh and curse him again, has the old man turned the central heating off again, surely not?
It’s the 8th December a day after my 47th Birthday spent the day in Berwick town centre with my Father, The Castle, The Curfew, The Barrels, The Leaping Salmon, to name a few followed by an Indian take away. No offence but I am not 5 years old anymore but the old man took great pleasure in telling every man an and his barking dog that it was my Birthday after a few festive drinks, fair play to him we did get free food at the Indian restaurant near the old bridge.
We are staying at West Sunnyside House under the friendly watch of Kathleen the property owner, which is about a 5 minute walk to Shielfield Park if you take a short cut through the car park of the sports centre.
We have been here since Thursday, its now match day Berwick Rangers v Peterhead a tough prospect, but under Johnny Harvey there seems to be a positive injection in the dressing room and some of the recent results reflect that.
Its 8.00am I flick the central heating back on and mutter some profanities under my breath, I hear movement in the apartment he is up and lively, I do the same we have coffee and cereal.
He is twitchy he loves being outside, a seasoned golfer, birdwatcher, walker a general outdoors man. I have just about slurped down a cup of Nescafe instant and he is stood there in front of me fully fleeced up……..”I am going for a walk”. I wonder whether I should be searching his pockets for the remote control for the central heating!
A few hours rest to get sorted before the big game against Peterhead, the hours pass the door opens and a jubilant voice shouts up “what a walk, I went to the football ground met a guy from Paris who worked in IT in Glasgow he was meeting the club secretary about writing about the club”.
Both ready we make our way to Shielfield Park, thirsty we head for the Black and Gold bar. Always a friendly atmosphere, there are some Peterhead fans having a drink also which is lovely to see.
I always like to visit the club shop, I am an impulse buyer so I need to buy “things”, me and “The Central Heating Controller” make our way through the turnstiles and head to the club shop. He buys himself a badge and treats me to a club polo shirt, a belated Birthday present.
We wonder down to the food van its always great to be in the ground see the players warming up in the background, it’s got to be fish and chips on cold December afternoon, we stand in the ever growing queue for the Chippy van they smell amazing! I turn to Dad only to find he has turned himself the other way and is talking to a woman behind us in the queue, always the conversationalist he loves to chat to random strangers. But the common ground here is the football. I join in and it turns out she has driven down from Scotland and does some work with the Peterhead players, as we chat the sun has come out and she comments that she has brought the sun down with her from Scotland.
Fish and Chips in hand we make our way to the stand as the whistle blows for the first half, I am going to refrain from giving a what would be a painful match report but the first goal to Peterhead came after just 2 minutes! We were 3 nil down at half time. The blow was made slightly more palatable as we ate the best fish I have had in a long time with our fingers.
We need a half time beer so we head out of the ground and back into the Black and Gold only to be greeted with the barman man handling a blow-up doll, I can only assume there must have been a hen do in the function room that evening, unless she is the team mascot.
We sup up and head back into the ground for the second half, my Father makes a comment about where we sit, he wants to be higher up, I could have suggested he brought his binoculars but in the current climate of “Bielsa Spy Gate” it was a good job I didn’t.
51 mins goal number 4 to Peterhead, we don’t seem to playing that bad a fair percentage of possession, 48% to be precise. We just haven’t had enough shots on target, 78 minutes the final nail in the coffin 0-5 Peterhead.
The final whistle blows, we make our way back to the cottage. I am cooking a Chilli for us both. On our return I head upstairs and hear a clicking noise. That bloody central heating!! Turns out its pre-programmed to go off after two hours….oops!
I shout down “pour me a glass of red”.
ARTICLE FEATURED IN ISSUE 11 OF VFTAE FEBUARY 2019…..BY MICHAEL CONBOY:
A port city situated on the river Clyde famous for its architecture, trade and shipbuilding in the 18th – 20th Century. Glasgow is Scotland’s biggest city and a top tourist attraction with museums and galleries, shopping, food and drink and most importantly for the majority of its loyal resident’s football…….
Football has and always will be an intrinsic part of towns and cities, look at the recent rise and decline of Sunderland football club. Their drop from Premiership football to League 1 has been widely published recently in the media, issues with the owners, players not wanting to play but quite happy to see out contracts to the detriment of the club financially, very rash and unjustified managerial sackings. I must say though the club do seem to be currently doing well in league 1 to press. Hopefully bouncing back to the Championship first time of asking.
Yet under some extremely difficult circumstances, on and off the pitch the community has joined together under the common bond of football and all the baggage positive and negative that brings with it, I am yet to find the negatives win or loose you always support your team.
For Glasgow the social landscape is very different, a city divided by religion and football. One side Catholic the other Protestant.
Celtic the Catholics and Rangers the Protestant…….
The religious divide dates back to the sectarianism of Northern Ireland which was brought to Scotland in the 19th Century. Thousands of Irish Immigrants settled on the West Coast of Scotland in industrial towns, a large percentage settled in Glasgow fleeing poverty caused by the natural disaster of the potato famine.
In the early days the two newly migrated Glasgow communities got on well, but in the 1920’s a huge recession hit Glasgow. The collapse of the shipbuilding industry had a massive effect on the Scottish economy. This caused massive unrest between the two communities.
Moving swiftly forward but by no means flippantly to the 1980’s the troubles in Northern Ireland only heightened these problems, this hatred was most evident between the cities two football teams. Over the years violence and the Old Firm have never been too far apart.
It would seem if the trouble wasn’t on the terraces the players on the pitch were happy to oblige, clattering high tickles, mass player brawls, red cards flying everywhere…..difficult games to control!
The plus side of this for a supporter is the tension and action must have been short of breath taking to watch these games, who am I rightly or wrongly to judge that’s the referee’s job, even the managers had a good go between them, emotional times!
May 1980 the 95th Scottish Cup final 70,000 fans witnessed what was has been described as the worst football violence in the fixtures history, a late goal by McCluskey in the 107th minute of extra time gave Celtic a 1 nil victory.
Unfortunately hundreds of fans invaded the pitch, it was initially Celtic fans celebrating the win with the players. Then confrontations broke out with Rangers supporters, bricks, bottles and cans were thrown. The mounted police struggled to regain of the mass pitch invasion.
As a result of this incident the sale of alcohol was banned from all Scottish sporting event
In conclusion this tie is emotional and unlike any other football match on the planet. But one club was ready to challenge this domination in the early 1980’s.
Aberdeen was where it was at…….
Flashes of Italian sportswear, La Coste, Fila, Sergio brought over from the continent by its loyal supporters, anyone would think we are on a Trans Alpino rail trip, but no it’s a boom town due the North Sea oil industry, lads working off shore on the oil rigs for Months at a time, returning home with massive wage slips. They were spending their money on going to the football and designer sportswear.
Arriving from St Mirren in 1978 bringing a very healthy CV with him which included bringing in young players through and forming a successful young team, this got them promoted from the first division to the premier league, the crowd figures for Aberdeen rose from 1000 to 20, 000 the legendary Alex Ferguson was a welcome appointment, Aberdeen went on to win the next 2 seasons under Sir Alex, and the Scottish Cup two years in a row.
The Old Firm have since returned to their domination.
The train tickets and accommodation had been booked Months in advance, the morning of Berwick Rangers v Elgin City had finally arrived.
The taxi to Leeds train station was actually 10 minutes early which is unusual for my local ever “reliable” taxi company.
On route I thought I better activate the mobile train tickets, not something I booked by choice when I completed the train bookings for me and my mate via the popular train booking app. “Activate” on day of journey it said so here goes as I was travelling nearer to the city centre on this bright dry autumnal morning. The activation process was simple and there it was the barcode tickets ready for use at the barriers at the train station. I felt quietly smug and pleased with myself. Just needed to get us through the barriers now and we were in the clear.
If only it was that simple! Phone out and mobile ticket on screen I hover it over the scanning panel on the barrier, nothing. I try it again only to hear a beep from my phone, ha ha cracked it. Still nothing, looking at the screen of my phone it had some how managed to open my online banking app and was looking to proceed with some kind of transaction. I quickly shut the app down and called over a station guard, only to be told just hold it over that screen, following the helpful instructions the barrier opened like the parting of the red sea, an almost biblical moment. We both quickly shuffle through, at last we were in the promised land, well through the barrier and on our way to the platform.
Safely on the train we find our reserved seats, we have 2 next to each other of the 4 seats with the large table in the middle. We spread out Racing Post and other racing publications on the table, relaxed with thought of a couple of quiet hours placing our bets for the afternoons racing and football matches.
First stop York a couple get on, well I say a couple it was difficult to work out what their relationship was, not that it was any of my business. A stern looking woman and a bloke who was a cross between Kenneth Branagh and Eddie Izzard with a French onion seller top on. I don’t mean to be personal but they got settled opposite us and Kenneth proceeded to get a tube of Savlon out and invade our personal space by applying it to both hands and wrists in a very imposing manor, almost like a demented magician performing some kind of slight of hand trick.
Just as the sterile aroma of Savlon started to pass the woman, his Wife, Mother or Sister then erupted into a political argument with herself, Kenneth nodding embarrassingly. By this time I had read and reread the whole race card for the Saturday afternoon meeting at the Curragh trying to avoid any eye contact.
As luck would have it some other seats freed up so they decided to move away from us, peace and calm had been restored.
The train rumbled on at a decent rate of knots and I had rested my eyes for the final leg of the journey. There were two lads sat behind us who I could now hear their football conversation. Some interesting debates, one of them then mention the Angel pub. Was this the same Angel pub in Berwick run by the infamous Tudor?
We pull into Berwick train station gather our thoughts and our belongings, we know the drill drop the bags of at The Castle Hotel and make our way to the Leaping Salmon for the first pint of the afternoon. As we walk out of the station our first sight is Eric Tait the ex player and manager for Berwick Rangers, a Berwick Rangers legend. He is greeting some people so we didn’t get chance to say hello and shake his hand again.
Just ahead of us walking up the hill from the station were the two lads that were sat behind us on the train, they take a right in the direction Shielfield Park football ground. My initial thought was correct our fellow travels were also going to watch Berwick v Elgin.
We negotiate with the staff in the Castle to leave our bags with them while we are at the football and make are way down the busy Berwick high street on a Saturday lunchtime. First stop is the Leaping Salmon, two pints just over five pounds, outstanding as usual in these parts! A few beers in and we decide to take a walk up to the ground calling into the Angel Inn on our way. Out of the Angel and up the road we spot an antiques shop which has the sign “BAR” above the door. We both comment on this and make a mental note to call in for post match drink or two.
Arrival at the ground is timed perfectly enough time for pint. Outside the ground we bump into Conrad (Berwick Rangers Commercial Manager) who we met last time we were up and showed us such great hospitality! We walk down to the Black and Gold bar where he asks if we have been in the “1881 Bar” we hadn’t so he led us in and introduced us to pleasant woman behind the bar. The bar is only small which was quite a surprise. It was busy with younger fans, were these the famous Berwick Rangers “Ultra’s”?
Programme purchased and a pint we head outside to finish our drinks before heading back up to the turnstiles to pay in. Once inside I head to the club shop, any excuse to purchase some official merchandise and put some money back into the football club. Had a nice chat with the staff in there then we go find ourselves a seat to enjoy the game.
A bright afternoon, mild and sunny, unfortunately the final result didn’t match the weather. To be fair that is probably a bit harsh. Berwick had an early free kick which was high over the cross bar, followed by a couple nice crosses into the Elgin box but nothing came of them.
Then after 22 minutes Elgin break through the Berwick defence only for Berwick to concede an own goal in the righthand corner of the net 0-1 Elgin City. Unfortunately 2 minutes later Elgin score what is almost a carbon copy of the own goal but in the left had corner of the net.
Berwick then seem to raise their game with a nice controlled long volley which just goes wide of the goals on the right. Shortly after that another chance a nice little pass into the box with a shot cleared off the line by Elgin’s defence. We seemed to be piling on the pressure and looked a lot more positive and looked like we may get a goal before half time.
The tempo dies down again towards the 45th minute so we decide to make our way to the Black and Gold bar for a half time pint. On leaving the ground we hear the groans from the home crowd, Elgin have scored a 3rd goal.
We walk into the Black and Gold order two pints of Bell Haven best, first sip and turn around to see the two lads from the train stood behind us. They instantly recognise us and we strike up a conversation. They are from Whitby, Whitby Town fans and one of the lads is also an Elgin City fan, on further questioning coming to see Elgin away at Berwick is closer than going to one of their home games and logistically easier to travel to than Elgin from Whitby. We ask if they are staying over in Berwick but they are on the 18.05 train back to Whitby, a proper away day!
Back in the ground for 2nd half and there are further attempts for both sides but no more goals. A disappointing 0-3 defeat to Elgin City but still an enjoyable afternoon of football.
Exiting the ground after the match we make our way to the bar at the Antique shop, entering the bar it is like walking into a tardis it is a large music bar with televisions on the walls showing Sky Sports and music playing. The walls are covered in pictures of music icons and album covers. We get a couple of drinks and get seated to watch the days football results come in.
The door to the bar bursts open and bounding in come the young Berwick “Ultra’s” loud and boisterous, they get drinks from the bar sit near us. As the drinks flow they start singing to the music being played. The Manchester United game begins on the big screens in the background. The atmosphere is similar to a sports bar in any big city, great atmosphere. A bottle smashes on the floor, just an accident! They apologise and the bar staff clean it up. All in good spirits after the days defeat.
After finishing their drinks they get up and leave on mass, either going home for their tea or heading into Berwick Centre to the pubs up in town. I would like to think the later.
We have another drink and watch the match on the big screens then decide to get a taxi back to our hotel near the train station to get showered and changed for the evening. It’s a fair walk and its been a long day, I phone them up from inside the bar only to be told there is an hours wait as they are very busy as there is the Goldwing Light Parade in the town that evening. We leave the pub and decide to catch the bus, something I haven’t done for over 20 years. We wait and we wait the bus never arrives, plan C we will have to walk back to town and skip the shower and change of clothes.
We make our way down to the old bridge which is beautifully situated in the shadow of the A1167 road bridge. A pleasnt walk over and we find the Indian restaurant we had planned on going to. As time was ticking on and we hadn’t eaten since 9.00am we decided to skip the beers in the Curfew which opposite the Indian restaurant.
We ask for a table and get brought a pint as we wait to be seated for our curry, we choose the set menu for two, this isn’t going to be a restaurant review!! It was lovely and there was loads for two great value for £20.
Full of beer and food we decide to call it a day and make our way back up the high street to our accommodation. The town is buzzing as the parade must have just passed through. We check in and retire to our rooms absolutely shattered. I sit on the bed contemplating what has been a brilliant day when a feeling of horror comes over me, where is my Berwick Rangers bag with my purchases from the club shop. I try to think back where I last had it, text my mate he says the Indian restaurant as I was in the loo when he got seated. I phone the restaurant and they said they have it behind the bar. I let my mate know who sends me a message to say he is on his way to pick it up!!
I owe that man a pint as I sit writing this article in my newly acquired Berwick Rangers training top!
I left home at 19 years old and moved into a shared house with 4 other lads. We were all friends from the local pub and all Leeds fans.
It was in the era when Sky Sports was just establishing itself and not the influential beast it is now, being able to change kick off times at the drop of a hat to boost television viewing stats without any consideration to season ticket holders and the paying punters at the turnstiles…..don’t get me started!
Between the 5 of us in the house 2 of the lads were Leeds season ticket holders, as one of them worked away quite often we used to pass the season ticket round between the other 3. It meant we got to see regular home games on our tight budgets.
For the other times we were quite content with listening to the match on the radio and watching the scores come in on the television.
Over time what we came to realise was we were missing the jovial football banter between apposing fans when sat on the sofa with a can or 3 of urine like cheap lager! We couldn’t afford Stella back then.
With my memory not being as sharp as it used to be I can’t remember who out of the 5 suggested we look at supporting the dreaded 2nd club! It could have been very easy to pick a top flight side in the 1st tier of English football and reap the rewards of 3 points every weekend and if Leeds won it was an added bonus.
After a short unstructured house meeting it was agreed we would all pick a Scottish Team. That sounded fine to me so the search was on for the 2nd team.
You have to remember back in those days there were no smart phones and limited access to the internet so any research was relatively painstaking.
After the research was completed I decided my club of choice would be Berwick Rangers, my reasoning behind this was I had been on some golfing holidays with the old man around the borders area in my youth and also that Berwick are the only English club in the Scottish league! A reoccurring quiz question.
Another house meeting was arranged for us all to unveil our chosen Scottish club, as I say my memory isn’t as sharp as it used to be but I remember 3 of the choices……my choice Berwick Rangers obviously, then there was Cowdenbeath and Stenhousemuir.
Since that fateful day I have been following Berwick Rangers, admittedly over the years there has been times when my support has lapsed and I haven’t kept up with league positions or avidly followed the scores on a Saturday afternoon but they have always been there in the back of my mind.
I am now in my mid forties and the passion for Berwick Rangers has strangely returned! Call it a rather obscure mid life crisis, well I couldn’t afford the Porsche and I don’t have enough hair to carry off a Harley Davidson (saying that most of those brigade don’t either).
This is where the second part of the tale commences…..if you haven’t already flicked over to the next article!
25 years later and with the development of technology I was able to find that there is a Berwick Rangers Supporters Club. In the true spirit of my new found passion for the club again I quickly joined, paid my membership fee and received my membership pack and pleasant e mail from one of the committee members (who turns out also to be Berwick Rangers Commercial Manager) hoping to see me at a game in the near future, the fixtures list taking pride and place on my fridge much to the families amusement.
The scene was set Saturday afternoon’s were back to keeping an eye on the Berwick Rangers score and position in the league table and I could now afford a few cans of Stella Artois, my youth was suddenly rekindled.
After year or so of my new founded following I needed more to feed the hunger. A plan was hatched in my head I would arrange a trip to Berwick and go watch a home game.
After scanning the fridge fixture list I picked the Peterhead game as Berwick had previously beaten them this season away quite convincingly 0-2. There star player Michael McKenna getting one of the goals in the 83’ minute.
The next challenge was to check actually how easy it is to get to Berwick and to a match for the 3.00pm kick off on a Saturday, the answer being surprisingly straight forward and a return ticket relatively cheap, the journey consisting of a train to York then a train to Berwick.
From a logistics point of view I had no correlation of the distance from Berwick train station to Shielfield Park (the Berwick Rangers ground).
This is where my Supporters Club membership fees paid dividends, I e mailed them and got a really helpful e mail back from the Secretary with places to stay near the ground.
With all this information gathered and working out to be a reasonably priced trip I was happy to fan the flames of my mid life crisis with a solo trip to the Scottish Border town of Berwick Upon Tweed to see the mouth watering fixture of Berwick Rangers v Peterhead in mid-December.
Excited at my December plans I informed a mate and my Dad who to my surprise both said it sounded great and wanted to join me, to be fair I think the old man’s decision was more of a hasty offer after a few Friday evening pre tea drinks at his home sideboard bar (the thorn in my Mother’s side).
The solo trip was no longer a lone venture as my mate was now joining me. So the plan I had hatched in my head was now reality and I needed to get the rail and accommodation booked.
I went for a Bed and Breakfast adjacent to Berwick train station not the closest to the ground which I found out later to the detriment of my glass back but a perfect location for the station and bars in Berwick and extremely good value for money.
Everything booked and the train tickets in the post it was now just a waiting game for the big day to come around.
So the run up to the day of the trip panned out as follows:
Edinburgh City at Home 1-1 (draw)
Elgin away 5-1 (loss)
Stirling Albion at Home 1-0 (win)
Montrose away 3-0 (loss)
We picked up 4 points in 4 games, leaving us 7th position in the league.
The statistics done lets fast forward to the morning of the match….
Alarm call at 6.00am, football match essentials checklist completed: Barbour Jacket, Burberry scarf and a packet of Gaviscon for the half time pie and post-match curry washed down periodically by the local ale.
The one thing I haven’t yet mentioned which is the absolute kicker is we are now in the middle of December and we are heading to watch a football match on the Scottish borders – THE WEATHER!!!
Friday evening via the powers of social media I found out there was a pitch inspection at 8.30am Saturday morning, was I worried of course not. The pitch had been covered to protect it from what was expected to be a heavy frost.
Our train left Leeds station at 8.20am so we were literally now in the hands of the gods. Comfortable on the train with the knowledge that the pitch was covered the night before and the day had started with beautiful winter sunshine and the weather forecast looking sunny but chilly all day – it was on, it had to be!!
It was only when we were leaving Newcastle station I checked my e mail only to find an e mail from the Berwick Rangers Commercial Manager apologising and explaining after a pitch inspection the game had been cancelled.
Feeling slightly clammy and mouth dry I frantically searched social media for information and a final straw to clutch…..that straw never appeared just a comment saying the cover for the pitch would be more use on next year’s bonfire, to be fair a very valid point.
Doomed! That was it no match to go to and as Paul Weller once sang “Found myself in a strange town”.
Time was running out so I had to tell my mate the unfortunate news! He took it well to be fair after I mentioned that the Berwick Rangers Commercial Manager had invited us up to the Corporate Sponsors Lounge for a few “scoops” and watch the afternoon’s football on the television.
Arriving in Berwick we dropped our bags off in the hotel opposite the train station and took a walk down Berwick high street. A 20 minute walk and a right turn later we found a great pub overlooking the river Tweed right next to the bridge, a well deserved pint of the local tipple Bell Haven Best at just over £2.00 a pint was in order.
A short walk over the bridge and a left turn we found the Angel pub run by a guy called “Tudor”. Another pint then back on the road to the football ground. To be honest the walk seemed a lot longer than it had looked on the map but we managed to find the football ground and were greeted in the car park by the Supporters Club Secretary who took us up to the Corporate Sponsors lounge.
We were welcomed with open arms by the Chairman and the Corporate Sponsors and asked what we were drinking….Bell Haven Best of course! We explained we were up at 6am to get there for the 3pm kick off they all seemed impressed with the efforts we had put in getting there. A comment from one of the guys as he pointed out of the window to the housing estate opposite “those people over there can’t even be bothered to walk over on a Saturday afternoon to support their local team, and to make it worse coaches come to pick them up to go watch Newcastle and Manchester United”. That pretty much sums up the struggle of a lot of lower division teams in both the English and Scottish leagues which is a massive shame.
After our drinks we were treated to a tour of the ground and some photo opportunities with one of the clubs ex managers and star player. We went out on to the pitch, it didn’t seem that bad just frozen round the edges but the Referee had made his decision and that was final! Much to everyone’s disgust.
When we went back into the Corporate lounge there seemed to be more people arriving, we were then informed it was the Corporate Christmas party that afternoon. It was meant to be after the game but as it had been cancelled they brought the dinner forward.
I started to think what we do now as I didn’t want to out stay our welcome! Before I could think we were bought another pint and asked if we wanted to buy some raffle tickets, which we gladly obliged. Anything to help the club and the chance of winning some prizes including a hair salon voucher, which between me and my mate would be absolutely no use at all!! As we are both folically challenged! The Stand out prize was 2 x Corporate Hospitality vouchers.
A woman kept appearing from a door in the corner looking over at us quite nervously, was this when they were going to ask us to leave? I thought fair enough we have had a good afternoon in light of the football being cancelled. We had planned for a curry in Berwick and a bit of a pub crawl so I was happy to stick to our original plans. I glanced over to the corner again and few people had gathered now and looking over at us. We were then approached by one of them and asked if we would like to stay for our Christmas Dinner. We accepted their more than generous offer and our table was set with cutlery and Christmas crackers.
The Bell Haven Best going doing extremely well and the festivities under way, I suddenly noticed another two places set for dinner opposite us. We were then advised one of the player’s parents were going to be sat with us for Christmas dinner. Having had no lunch and an afternoon of the local ale was I going to be able to string a coherent sentence together? Too late we were introduced to the parents and prawn cocktail starters were served.
The conversation was effortless as we discussed how we got to be having Christmas Dinner at the Berwick Rangers Corporate Christmas party and they told us about their son and his football career.
Three courses later and fizzy wine drunk the Chairman made a moving speech, time was ticking on so we thought we better try sort a taxi back to our hotel and sample the Berwick night life.
We advised our hosts we must be getting back, only to be greeted with disappointment “you are not staying for the evening lads, we have entertainment on?”
Thanking them for a wonderful day and amazing hospitality we made our way back to town.
We will definitely be going back to watch a match and looking forward to the raffle prizes to be drawn, lets hope I don’t win the hair salon vouchers!
TNH - The Northern Hemisphere 