It was very much a case of “Gentlemen start your engines,” as the match finished at Celtic Nation. The road out from the ground was narrow and congested, and I knew from experience that Carlisle city centre can be a nightmare to negotiate. Hop organiser Harvey Harris looked frustrated. sat in the courier seat of the coach as a stream of cars passed by, his coach blocked in by a single pesky, inconsiderate car. He finally got away about 10 cars behind me, but once out of Carlisle it was a straightforward enough drive west to Whitehaven.
The coastal town is possibly best known for being the most complete example of planned Continue reading →
The hobby of groundhopping owes the Northern League and General Secretary Mike Amos a debt of gratitude, as it was they in 1992 invented the organised groundhop, staggered kick-offs over a day or days to attract the groundhoppers. The idea has grown, and this season there are set to be at least 11 such events, including 3 more where it all started, in the Northern League who are celebrating their 125th anniversary. Or put another way, after 17 years, the Northern League Hop is back on the calendar!
The first game back was an intriguing one. Celtic Nation are based at the former Railway Club in southern Carlisle and used to be called Gillford Park. They played at the ground next door to the Rugby League club, Carlisle RLFC. When the rugby league club were merged into Barrow RLFC following the introduction of summer rugby and Super League, the football bought the ground and moved in. More machinations were to follow when Gillford Park gained sponsorship from Frank Lynch, an American millionaire with the idea of setting the club up as a team for the Irish and Scots community. The name was changed and Celtic FC’s strip of green and white hoops adopted.
Its obvious that significant investment has occurred. Many at the game were convinced that Celtic are now Continue reading →
I like visits to Didcot Town’s Loop Meadow Stadium, as unlike at least one club local to me the welcome is always fulsome, and the they work at the little things that add up to great customer service.
This game proved the point well. The press area required the line-ups, so the club knocked up a team sheet at zero notice. It wasn’t pretty, but it did the job and was much appreciated.
Tonight my game has been cancelled, and it’s too late to find an alternative. So I’ll write the article I’ve been promising Splodge for a day or two.
It’s about our trip to Belgium a couple of weeks ago, and the inevitable stop along the way. If you take either the Channel Tunnel, or the ferries to Calais or Dunkirk, then head north towards Belgium, the first town you’ll reach once you’ve crossed the border is Adinkerke.
Its part of a conurbation with the coastal town of De Panne, and during both World Wars the town saw significant action including many casualties during the retreat to Dunkirk in 1940. There’s a military cemetery on the outskirts of the town, and the pontoon-style bridge does hint at its military past as you enter the town from the road past the oddly named Plopsaland Continue reading →
If you drive along the A420 from Oxford to Swindon, you’ll spot a hill on your right just before Faringdon. Its not the largest hill you’ll ever see, or the most prepossessing, but the turret that pokes out of the top of the Scots Pines gives a clue as to its interest.
The hill’s history massively pre-dates the turret, as it was fortified by supporters of Matilda sometime during the Anarchy (1135–1141) – her campaign to claim the throne from King Stephen – but was soon razed to the ground by once he’d won the war. Oliver Cromwell fortified it again in his unsuccessful campaign to defeat the Royalist garrison at Faringdon House, during the English Civil War.
It wasn’t until 1935 that the turret, or tower if you’d prefer was built, and that dear reader is where the fun really starts! Continue reading →
CHESSINGTON & HOOK UNITED 0 Gilbert sent off 83 (2nd booking)
Att 103
Entry £6
Programme
To the beginner groundhopper the name Westfield or Westfields is a recipe for confusion. There’s Westfields, based in Hereford, and Sussex-Leaguers Westfield too. See the problem?
To avoid any doubt, this Westfield calls Woking home, but my confusion was complete when the sat-nav brought me to the Kingfield, Woking FC’s ground! I wasn’t too far wrong, Woking Park is only 150 yards away!
The place is futuristic, a feature of a 2011 building project, that turned Woking Park into something of a hub. Apart from the football, there’s boxing, and various Scout and Guide troops. I shouldn’t have been surprised at the looks of the place, Woking after all does have Continue reading →
If ever there was a contrast with my last game, this was it. For the avoidance of doubt, this is HambledEn, near Henley-on-Thames, and not HambledOn in Hampshire.
Its best approached from the Stokenchurch turn on the M40, and you drive along narrow lanes down in the valley through the most bucolic villages. I used to live in Henley so the area is known to me, and with a connection or two to the former Brakspear brewery I knew most of the pubs too! And how could you not love The Frog pub when it’s in a village of Skirmett!! I wonder if Jim Henson stopped for a pint! Continue reading →
ROYAL STANDARD DE LIÈGE 2 (Mujangibia 56 Batshuayi 84)
Att 10,402
Entry €20 (terrace)
Programme FREE
Firstly, lets abbreviate those club names, its KV Mechelen versus Standard Liège. I’m all for getting things recorded correctly, but there is a limit! Continue reading →
If you look back to most of my foreign jaunts there’s always a common factor; the thing was it took me until half way across the English Channel to realise what it was.
The roots of this trip lie with Fareham Town secretary Paul “Splodge” Proctor, and his liking for a particular brand of Belgian beer. That necessitated a trip over or under the Channel, and ever the hopper he found two games to take in too! He soon roped me in and with Peter Miles ( The Itinerant Football Watcher) and Lee West (Adventures In Football) we had a full car, and as the midnight ferry left Dover for a bargain £67 return, it dawned on me what we’d created. As far as I’m concerned Lee is the best groundhopping photographer out there, and Peter the best writer. Splodge is one of the most popular and knowledgeable people in Non-League, which just left little old me to make up the numbers! Sat here now typing away, I’m not completely sure why I’m doing this, look at the links to your left, it’s all there already!
From Dunkirk it takes no time at all to reach Belgium, and after a little rest, we found a boulangerie in the beautiful town of Veurne for breakfast, before calling in at it’s not so beautiful twin Adinkerke. That town exists it seems, to sell all those passing through the products you shouldn’t buy such as tobacco, porn, chocolates, and yes Splodge’s beer!
From there the Splodgemobile (his term, not mine!) blasted north-west around Antwerp to the town of Lier. The town has around 34,000 inhabitants, and is the base of the coachbuilder Van Hool. The great Belgian footballer Jan Ceulemans was born here.
What we always had on this trip was time, which allowed us the time to sample that most Belgian of cuisines, the Frituur. These Friteries offer several fried and grilled dishes served with frites, such as hamburgers, brochette, meatballs, merguez and fried chicken. The portions tend to be large, to the extent that all 4 of us had food left over!
But let’s be honest here, we were all we just waiting for the gates to be opened! We’d had a mosey around before we went to eat, and the reports we’d heard were being borne out before our eyes!
Lyra have played at the Lyra Stadion since 1912, and the history is there for all to see. The most obvious is the main stand, originally a small wooden affair, but extended both forwards and lengthways, but with the original features still there. There’s also the terrace and tunnel behind the goal with, to the groundhopper’s eye, an almost indecent curve at the corner.
And folks, if this appeals, then take heed, this is the last season of this wonderful edifice. Already the narrow terrace opposite the stand has been demolished, to make way for, would you believe, a new Police Station! Here’s what the terrace used to look like.
The club will groundshare for around 2 years, while a new ground is built, but the stalwarts aren’t happy. One said “Our President…..” and made the throttling gesticulation. And if the Lyra stadion isn’t sufficient to convince you to pay the club a visit, the club officials will well and truly convince you. We were standing open-mouthed on the terrace when an official tapped us on the shoulder, and presented us with copies of the club’s centenary brochure, and when we decamped to the raised bar area, despite the fact that the key to the club shop couldn’t be found, merchandise was found including copies of the club anthem, “Lyralied,” on 7″ single no less. I hope they enjoyed they enjoyed our company as much as we enjoyed theirs.
With no badges available on the day, the club found a young lady that spoke excellent English to organise posting them over to us. She said she’d email us when she’d sent them, which she did, and her surname proved to be interesting! She is Jan Ceulemans’ niece! It’s a small world isn’t it? The great man sometimes comes to watch Lyra but at the moment he’s coaching 3rd division outfit R. Cappellen FC.
Which left the vexed question of the game! After all that has preceded it, it had to be an anti-climax didn’t it? Well, actually it wasn’t, with Lyra in the 4th tier Promotion League Group C, having just that little bit too much for their visitors plying their trade in the 6th tier Antwerpen Provincial League 2nd Division.
The game kept us all royally entertained, and it was with genuine regret that the final whistle went, and it was time to bid this magnificent ground, and its gallant officials goodbye. They are great, and please use these words and pictures as a reason to pay them a visit, the 4 of us owe them that for a quite wonderful afternoon.
So dear reader, imagine its the 17th century and you are a Puritan. You’re in Kent and fancy some curative baths. Where do you go, Tunbridge Wells? Continue reading →
Football: Wherever it may be 