Christmas Day was great. Up at the crack of 11am. Grab the tv remote, the phone put on silent mode, and settle down to an all-day feast consisting of tangerines, brazil nuts, Roses, Heroes, Pom Bears, Marmite cashew nuts, and Irn Bru.
No crappy tinsel or trees for me either. Instead, the Bay was made festive with scarves of every colour and team you could think of. Provided you could think of Carshalton and Auchinleck among them. Yep, the best Christmas Day I've had in a long, long time. Proving yet again that there's a world of difference between being on your own and being lonely.
It also, of course, gives you the pick of the Boxing Day matches. Except there wasn't any. Brentwood, Billericay and East Thurrock matches all rained off. I could make it to the Canvey derby but that would entail long walks into and from Southend Town Centre, and then from South Benfleet to the ground. In the pissing rain.
No crappy tinsel or trees for me either. Instead, the Bay was made festive with scarves of every colour and team you could think of. Provided you could think of Carshalton and Auchinleck among them. Yep, the best Christmas Day I've had in a long, long time. Proving yet again that there's a world of difference between being on your own and being lonely.
That left just my fall-back plan. This wise old head had made a contingency. Booked up a coach and ticket for Southend United's trip to Dagenham & Redbridge in advance. If any local games were on, I could simply give that booked up trip to someone else, as a late festive treat for them. Sometimes I surprise myself with my resourcefulness. Or, at least, showing occasional glimpses of common sense.
Common sense, though, would dictate that it'll be a grim Boxing Day afternoon for the teams I look out for. County had a difficult trip to Hibs. Hearts similarly at Killie. Barnet were at the League Two leaders Gillingham. Sunderland, underperforming all season, were hosting champions Man City. And Southend's trip today was a tricky one.
Dagenham & Redbridge are the epitome of what a club with tiny crowds and tinier resources could achieve. On an average crowd of around 1,700, the Daggers were challenging for the play-offs. Three years ago they had even won them, the same time as the Shrimpers dropped into the basement, ridden with debt despite having a far bigger fanbase and grandiose plans of a new ground.
You'd have to ask what those at Victoria Road are doing so right that the Roots Hall outfit have got so wrong in recent years? Then again, no. bollocks. It's bloody Christmas. The season to be jolly and all that. Navel contemplating can wait. At least until the party games tonight. Until then, it's a day at the football. On Boxing Day. Oh yes.
The coach soon filled up and settled down to a typical trip. Phil was with me today and we exchanged withering, cynical chat about football, life, Christmas and everything. After all, why change the habit of a lifetime. Three quarters of the rest of the coach were filled with seasoned travellers - and I don't mean Dale Farm inhabitants that stink of shit - and one or two kids.
The back of the coach, inevitably, was filled with the naughty lads and lasses. Those devil-may-care, live fast die young types, who talk loudly enough for the rest of the coach to hear about those crazy kids and their whizzo exploits. Before you condemn them, though, don't lie, you were like that yourself once. I was too and, given the chance, still enjoy the odd bout of stupidity.
I decided to indulge my grumpy side, though, when one lad said to me "Oi, Groyney, you missed a great trip to Fleetwood." That day, I saw a nine goal thriller, including two hat-tricks, in a ground that has a settee behind the goal. Over a trip in a coach or car, lasting hundreds of miles and many hours, in the company of someone who drank too much, for a 0-0 draw that angered a section of the Southend support.
Admittedly, seeing the anger at the disallowed goals would've been fun, and the ref giving them a bit of stick the odd chortle, but I had the infinitely better deal. "No I didn't", came the obvious reply. "You did mate", he continued, not having it, and being backed up by one of those other crazy kids. "No I didn't", came my response again, matching their vocal volume. They gave up at that point. Chortle.
We arrived at Victoria Road way before kick-off, which gave plenty of time for stroll around the ground. It's a typical non-league ground that just happens to host league football. An open terrace, covered enclosure, and seats down the other side are what the host supporters are used to. The seated away end, though, is modern and comfortable, with plenty of legroom. You somehow feel out of place as a visiting fan when you sit there.
The club shop was small and their selection of merchandise was smaller. Think Moscow supermarkets in the 80's, then roughly halve that selection, and you have an idea of what they had. The staff were cheerful enough, though, but then so would you be if all you had to flog were scarves and shirts. I enjoyed the sparseness, mind. No gaudy crap assaulting your eyes.
There's also a massive supporters bar, where I caught up with Wino, the driving force behind some of the coaches driving the fans there. Pissed off with how much the supporters trust were charging, a few years ago, Team Judas was formed, with an irreverent trip to Port Vale, where Chipper and I saw kids playing on a trampoline. On the roof of a pub.
From there, the coaches with TJ became popular, with the emphasis on keeping the prices low and the fun levels high. This included the odd stop-off for fish & chips, unheard of in the world of motorways and service stops that everyday fans inhabit on 'official' supporter coach journeys. One coach was soon not enough.
It now runs to every away game, undering the TZ moniker in conjuction with the fans website, continually under-cutting the supporters trust pricing. And all because one person decided enough was enough. For Wino, read Rosa Parks. After all, he refuses to sit at the back of the bus as well. A sound lad that's made a huge contribution in ensuring Southend United have a relatively healthy away following.
That was in evidence today as well. Seats more or less sold out, the club were given a small part of the Daggers enclosure, somewhere where I was heading off to after a hardy half of diet coke. I get there and the steward asks to look at my ticket. Strange but fair enough.
All became clear. He pointed to a lad nearby and said he wanted to swap his seat for a terrace ticket. That'll do me. Seat it is then. My knees and back are chuffed. As was the lad I swapped with. He'd obviously never been around in the days of terraces everywhere, and pissing where you stood, and wanted a feel of those good old days. You couldn't blame him.
I was expecting a close game. If the Daggers, with just a couple a couple of home defeats all season, won, they'd be only three points behind the Shrimpers. A bumper crowd would be there to spur them on. Paul Sturrock would have his work cut out to get something from this.
A thought that held water for around 59 seconds. That's all it took for ex Dagenham & Redbridge striker Gavin Tomlin to shoot Southend United ahead. Very simple. A kick from goal, a knock-down, left clear and wallop. No messing. 1-0 to Southend. The away end and side erupts. And not just because of the curried turkey.
The match settles down a little. Not much created, both sides cancelling each other out. Until Britt Assombalongachumbawumba gets the ball on the left. He twists and turns like a twisty turny thing, gets inside the area, near the bye-line, and passes to Tomlin inside the six yard box. He's not Tony Richards or Drewe Broughton, so he can't miss. 2-0 and not a quarter of an hour gone.
The rest of the first half was, well, pretty turgid. Passes going astray from either side. Less being made than a bacon butty shop in a synagogue. That suits the away side though. A very comfortable first half as they are cheered down the tunnel to their changing rooms, beneath the away end.
Being up in the gods, it gives me a chance to have a look around the area. It's a curious mix of industrial estate, park, and housing. If you didn't know where Victoria Road was, you'd miss it completely. I like these grounds though. All tucked up, a little hidden gem, within it a club that is part of the local community. With West Ham more or less on their doorstep, Daggers fans really are die-hard supporters.
Which is something their side are doing on the pitch. Once again, keeper Paul Smith makes a long punt, a knock down, and on the edge of the Dagenham & Redbridge box, Kevan Hurst smashes in a tremendous volley into the roof of the net. 3-0 to Southend United. Game over.
It starts to piss down again after an hour or two of overcast gloom and nothing else. Always the irony, that. When everyone else is postponed, and your game is on but you're getting your bottom spanked, only then does it start to pour down again. Those die-hard fans I talked about earlier? Well, they're dying a lot easier today. They've had enough of being pissed on in more ways than one and head for the exits in big numbers with 15 minutes to go.
It's not lost on the Southend supporters, who mock them. The crowd is announced as 3,500, easily the Daggers biggest gate of the season. It's swelled by around 1,400 visiting fans, and the announcement is met with ironic cheers, and the usual 'What's it like to see a crowd?' stuff. Funny that. The last time I was at Roots Hall the crowd was 3,000 for an FA Cup tie. The double irony, unlike the match, is lost on them.
The win pushes Southend United to the very cusp of automatic promotion. They only played well in brief patches, but looked like a side heading from promotion. Confidence and professionalism all the way through. Not a single Shrimpers player had a bad game. Paul Sturrock has got this team motoring in Dagenham and just about anywhere else in League Two.
The trip home is elongated. Terrible driving conditions and a crash on the A127. The crazy kids at the back of the coach are getting impatient and shout loudly about how they have to get to the pub and have a kebab soon. The choice, however, in the pissing rain and with car crashes going on is simple. You either wait a little longer to get home or you possibly die.
I get home just as the full time scores are coming in from the later kick-offs. A surprisingly good day. Hearts have gone down at Killie, but somehow County have conjured up a win at Chmapions League spot chasing Hibs, and Barnet have upset League Two leaders Gillingham. Even Sunderland have beaten Man City, prompting Roberto Mancini to say they won't bother turning up next season because they always get beat there. Chortle.
A great Christmas Day has carried on into a superb Boxing Day. Three goals, wins galore elsewhere, and plenty of Roses left. And Heroes. And Bru. And biscuits and cheese. After the hellish past few weeks, and a future less certain than a Wogan's Winner, this year's festive season is a great one.
Oh yes. And chortle.
Dagenham & Redbridge 0, Southend United 3
Common sense, though, would dictate that it'll be a grim Boxing Day afternoon for the teams I look out for. County had a difficult trip to Hibs. Hearts similarly at Killie. Barnet were at the League Two leaders Gillingham. Sunderland, underperforming all season, were hosting champions Man City. And Southend's trip today was a tricky one.
Dagenham & Redbridge are the epitome of what a club with tiny crowds and tinier resources could achieve. On an average crowd of around 1,700, the Daggers were challenging for the play-offs. Three years ago they had even won them, the same time as the Shrimpers dropped into the basement, ridden with debt despite having a far bigger fanbase and grandiose plans of a new ground.
The coach soon filled up and settled down to a typical trip. Phil was with me today and we exchanged withering, cynical chat about football, life, Christmas and everything. After all, why change the habit of a lifetime. Three quarters of the rest of the coach were filled with seasoned travellers - and I don't mean Dale Farm inhabitants that stink of shit - and one or two kids.
The back of the coach, inevitably, was filled with the naughty lads and lasses. Those devil-may-care, live fast die young types, who talk loudly enough for the rest of the coach to hear about those crazy kids and their whizzo exploits. Before you condemn them, though, don't lie, you were like that yourself once. I was too and, given the chance, still enjoy the odd bout of stupidity.
Admittedly, seeing the anger at the disallowed goals would've been fun, and the ref giving them a bit of stick the odd chortle, but I had the infinitely better deal. "No I didn't", came the obvious reply. "You did mate", he continued, not having it, and being backed up by one of those other crazy kids. "No I didn't", came my response again, matching their vocal volume. They gave up at that point. Chortle.
We arrived at Victoria Road way before kick-off, which gave plenty of time for stroll around the ground. It's a typical non-league ground that just happens to host league football. An open terrace, covered enclosure, and seats down the other side are what the host supporters are used to. The seated away end, though, is modern and comfortable, with plenty of legroom. You somehow feel out of place as a visiting fan when you sit there.
There's also a massive supporters bar, where I caught up with Wino, the driving force behind some of the coaches driving the fans there. Pissed off with how much the supporters trust were charging, a few years ago, Team Judas was formed, with an irreverent trip to Port Vale, where Chipper and I saw kids playing on a trampoline. On the roof of a pub.
From there, the coaches with TJ became popular, with the emphasis on keeping the prices low and the fun levels high. This included the odd stop-off for fish & chips, unheard of in the world of motorways and service stops that everyday fans inhabit on 'official' supporter coach journeys. One coach was soon not enough.
That was in evidence today as well. Seats more or less sold out, the club were given a small part of the Daggers enclosure, somewhere where I was heading off to after a hardy half of diet coke. I get there and the steward asks to look at my ticket. Strange but fair enough.
All became clear. He pointed to a lad nearby and said he wanted to swap his seat for a terrace ticket. That'll do me. Seat it is then. My knees and back are chuffed. As was the lad I swapped with. He'd obviously never been around in the days of terraces everywhere, and pissing where you stood, and wanted a feel of those good old days. You couldn't blame him.
A thought that held water for around 59 seconds. That's all it took for ex Dagenham & Redbridge striker Gavin Tomlin to shoot Southend United ahead. Very simple. A kick from goal, a knock-down, left clear and wallop. No messing. 1-0 to Southend. The away end and side erupts. And not just because of the curried turkey.
The match settles down a little. Not much created, both sides cancelling each other out. Until Britt Assombalongachumbawumba gets the ball on the left. He twists and turns like a twisty turny thing, gets inside the area, near the bye-line, and passes to Tomlin inside the six yard box. He's not Tony Richards or Drewe Broughton, so he can't miss. 2-0 and not a quarter of an hour gone.
Being up in the gods, it gives me a chance to have a look around the area. It's a curious mix of industrial estate, park, and housing. If you didn't know where Victoria Road was, you'd miss it completely. I like these grounds though. All tucked up, a little hidden gem, within it a club that is part of the local community. With West Ham more or less on their doorstep, Daggers fans really are die-hard supporters.
Which is something their side are doing on the pitch. Once again, keeper Paul Smith makes a long punt, a knock down, and on the edge of the Dagenham & Redbridge box, Kevan Hurst smashes in a tremendous volley into the roof of the net. 3-0 to Southend United. Game over.
It's not lost on the Southend supporters, who mock them. The crowd is announced as 3,500, easily the Daggers biggest gate of the season. It's swelled by around 1,400 visiting fans, and the announcement is met with ironic cheers, and the usual 'What's it like to see a crowd?' stuff. Funny that. The last time I was at Roots Hall the crowd was 3,000 for an FA Cup tie. The double irony, unlike the match, is lost on them.
The win pushes Southend United to the very cusp of automatic promotion. They only played well in brief patches, but looked like a side heading from promotion. Confidence and professionalism all the way through. Not a single Shrimpers player had a bad game. Paul Sturrock has got this team motoring in Dagenham and just about anywhere else in League Two.
The trip home is elongated. Terrible driving conditions and a crash on the A127. The crazy kids at the back of the coach are getting impatient and shout loudly about how they have to get to the pub and have a kebab soon. The choice, however, in the pissing rain and with car crashes going on is simple. You either wait a little longer to get home or you possibly die.
A great Christmas Day has carried on into a superb Boxing Day. Three goals, wins galore elsewhere, and plenty of Roses left. And Heroes. And Bru. And biscuits and cheese. After the hellish past few weeks, and a future less certain than a Wogan's Winner, this year's festive season is a great one.
Oh yes. And chortle.
Dagenham & Redbridge 0, Southend United 3
No comments:
Post a Comment