This was going to be a tough one. Brentwood Town, at long last, were set for their big Essex Senior Cup tie. After all those postponements, the glamour match with Colchester United, now switched to the League One side's ground, could be covered for the radio.
Except I was at Hullbridge.
True, my financial situation had improved somewhat in recent weeks, but I was still nowhere near out of the trees. A train to Colchester and taxis to and from the stadium were out of the question. Instead, it was a lift from the Bay with Bri and Phil to Lower Road and a cheap night out.
Hullbridge Sports, for many years, have been plugging away in the ESL, an archetypal local club. Loads of kids and youth sides, and a senior team built on local lads. The manager, Enrico, is one of the non-league circuit's characters, and has been in the job longer than any other manager in the league. I've had the odd run-in with him but it's never been taken to heart. He's a football man at a football club. Simple as.
They're similar to any other club, too, in that there's internal politics abound. The cricket section of the club, in particular, had their grievances with the football section, but that's not something I know much about. Which, if I was a pundit, would entitle me to give an opinion on it and blame someone.
ESPN seem to excel at that. Experts who know nothing but talk with authority on everything. The worst has to be Stephen Craigan. All he can do is tell you what you've just seen with your own eyes - and then add copious amounts of moronity to it. "It's difficult to kick the ball over your own head", he grandly stated last week. Unless he's about 40 yards tall, I think I'd have to take issue with that.
It's a lot easier, too, when you're head's on the floor and you're trying a bicycle kick, which was what was actually happening. His coaching sessions for Northern Ireland must be inspirational. As proven after he masterminded that 1-1 home draw with Luxembourg. Something Stevie Wonder would have achieved.
I digress. Southend United, without any reserve fixtures this season, were probably looking forward to this Essex Senior Cup tie as much as Hullbridge. All those squad and reserve players, kicking their heels, finally getting a chance to strut their stuff. Their stuff, however, would be far from silky. Just up the road from the ground was the River Crouch, which seemed to have a subterranean cavern under the pitch.
Added to that the pouring rain, and we had the prospect of a coin toss to decides who defends the shallow end in the first half. It was a shame for the hosts, as after a number of postponements, forcing the game to be played right in the middle of the Christmas works party season, the weather was bound to put off all but the most dedicated football people. A bloody good crowd had been decimated to merely a decent one.
Meanwhile, in North Essex, Brentwood Town prepared for a big game of their own. The people wanted to know, needed to know, how they were getting on. This was going to be slightly tricky. Until Rob kindly informed me that his EFA work buddy Mark was there. I simply follow his twitter feed then pass on the information. Passing off the slight fact that I wasn't there.
As far as cup ties go, it panned out fairly typically. In the early stages, the underdogs played as if their lives depended on it, and pegged Southend back. Hullbridge had what looked a decent shout for a penalty, when the Shrimpers left back at the near post dived on the ground to put a shot out for a corner. Other shots and crosses went dangerously near the visitors goal.
As the rain intensified, though, so did Southend's work-rate and discipline. They began to get some success down the left flank and chance after chance was being created. Which the trusty boot of Freddie Eastwood ensured would go out for a goal kick. Any doubts as to why the likes of Tomlin and Assombachumbawuma were picked ahead of him were being dispelled in the mud and rain.
Eventually, just before half time, he slotted one away, from about an inch, after the keeper could only parry a shot onto a globule of mud almost on the goal-line. The relief on his face was evident for all to see. He didn't look a happy soul but at least, at long last, he was scoring again. As was Colchester, 2-0 up against Brentwood, as my live tweets were confirming.
By this time, I thought the game would be abandoned. The rain continued to pelt down, there was standing water on the pitch, with whatever that wasn't submerged either a muddy heap or a grassy swamp. It wasn't untypical though. Despite the best efforts of the ground staff throughout decades, current and ex-players knew the water always gets to the Lower Road pitch. Sod all they can do about the soggy sods.
The players obviously wanted to play on, though, and then all of a sudden the rain relented. The second half, at least could be started. Something that Brentwood Town would be wishing hadn't happened. 8-0. Ouch. Though I did tweet, with the score only 6-0, that if the scores are level at 90 minutes, they'd go straight to penalties. Well, you have to chortle.
As for the game in front of me, well, superior fitness told. Southend keeper Dan Bentley may as well have spent the second half in the clubhouse. Freddie got in on the act again, Elliott Bunion, and one or two others, where I wasn't really watching the game. Well, when April's doing her cheerleader stuff, you're obviously going to be distracted. For a couple of reasons.
There was also football discussion about our playing days, in particular the art of captaincy. I mentioned that I was only ever captain once. I remember it well. I got all the team in a huddle, and said "Right, lads, given the choice, which one out of Bananarama would you shag?" I designated penalty, corner and free-kick takers based on their answers. We won as well. It's really saying something.
The downpour returned with a vengeance, though, only this time the game was so far down the line the ref simply wouldn't abandon it. Had it been half an hour earlier, no doubt it would have been brought to a halt. There were murmurings that if there was an abandonment, they might just go straight for a penalty shoot-out rather than replay the game. If the pitch is unplayable, though, that also includes penalty areas, which would have been a moot point if I knew what it meant.
Anyway, the match was played to a conclusion, much to the relief of everyone there. Let's get dry, let's get warm. Heated car on the way home. Oh yes. We flick on the radio. It had to be, didn't it, just had to be. Bananarama blaring out. Sometimes, things are just meant to be. Like the upcoming end of the world in a couple of days.
Which is handy. It'll save me a few quid going to Friday's game.
Hullbridge Sports 0, Southend United 5
Except I was at Hullbridge.
True, my financial situation had improved somewhat in recent weeks, but I was still nowhere near out of the trees. A train to Colchester and taxis to and from the stadium were out of the question. Instead, it was a lift from the Bay with Bri and Phil to Lower Road and a cheap night out.
They're similar to any other club, too, in that there's internal politics abound. The cricket section of the club, in particular, had their grievances with the football section, but that's not something I know much about. Which, if I was a pundit, would entitle me to give an opinion on it and blame someone.
ESPN seem to excel at that. Experts who know nothing but talk with authority on everything. The worst has to be Stephen Craigan. All he can do is tell you what you've just seen with your own eyes - and then add copious amounts of moronity to it. "It's difficult to kick the ball over your own head", he grandly stated last week. Unless he's about 40 yards tall, I think I'd have to take issue with that.
I digress. Southend United, without any reserve fixtures this season, were probably looking forward to this Essex Senior Cup tie as much as Hullbridge. All those squad and reserve players, kicking their heels, finally getting a chance to strut their stuff. Their stuff, however, would be far from silky. Just up the road from the ground was the River Crouch, which seemed to have a subterranean cavern under the pitch.
Meanwhile, in North Essex, Brentwood Town prepared for a big game of their own. The people wanted to know, needed to know, how they were getting on. This was going to be slightly tricky. Until Rob kindly informed me that his EFA work buddy Mark was there. I simply follow his twitter feed then pass on the information. Passing off the slight fact that I wasn't there.
As far as cup ties go, it panned out fairly typically. In the early stages, the underdogs played as if their lives depended on it, and pegged Southend back. Hullbridge had what looked a decent shout for a penalty, when the Shrimpers left back at the near post dived on the ground to put a shot out for a corner. Other shots and crosses went dangerously near the visitors goal.
As the rain intensified, though, so did Southend's work-rate and discipline. They began to get some success down the left flank and chance after chance was being created. Which the trusty boot of Freddie Eastwood ensured would go out for a goal kick. Any doubts as to why the likes of Tomlin and Assombachumbawuma were picked ahead of him were being dispelled in the mud and rain.
By this time, I thought the game would be abandoned. The rain continued to pelt down, there was standing water on the pitch, with whatever that wasn't submerged either a muddy heap or a grassy swamp. It wasn't untypical though. Despite the best efforts of the ground staff throughout decades, current and ex-players knew the water always gets to the Lower Road pitch. Sod all they can do about the soggy sods.
The players obviously wanted to play on, though, and then all of a sudden the rain relented. The second half, at least could be started. Something that Brentwood Town would be wishing hadn't happened. 8-0. Ouch. Though I did tweet, with the score only 6-0, that if the scores are level at 90 minutes, they'd go straight to penalties. Well, you have to chortle.
There was also football discussion about our playing days, in particular the art of captaincy. I mentioned that I was only ever captain once. I remember it well. I got all the team in a huddle, and said "Right, lads, given the choice, which one out of Bananarama would you shag?" I designated penalty, corner and free-kick takers based on their answers. We won as well. It's really saying something.
The downpour returned with a vengeance, though, only this time the game was so far down the line the ref simply wouldn't abandon it. Had it been half an hour earlier, no doubt it would have been brought to a halt. There were murmurings that if there was an abandonment, they might just go straight for a penalty shoot-out rather than replay the game. If the pitch is unplayable, though, that also includes penalty areas, which would have been a moot point if I knew what it meant.
Which is handy. It'll save me a few quid going to Friday's game.
Hullbridge Sports 0, Southend United 5
A great read as always!
ReplyDelete