Where? In Hertfordshire - That's Ware!

Ware vs Brightlingsea Regent

Saturday 25th February, 2016 - 3pm k-o:
Ryman Isthmian League, Division One North

Fancy-Dress? ... or just another case of "The Emperor's New Clothes"? A Big Day Out, in Tier Eight.

At the risk of re-running that old Abbot and Costello baseball skit (“Who’s on first base?"*) just before setting off from 52 Festive Road the other day, for the big Ryman League North clash, my wife asked me: “You’re going to where this afternoon?”. To which I, of course, replied “That’s right, Ware”; and then it all kicked off. Hilarious! Divorce proceedings commence next week.

That old sketch holds a special place in comedy history. Similarly, Ware holds a fairly special place in local history. So I made extra time for an all-important pre-match detour into its quaint old market town centre, to check out its historical credentials. I'm sure my old friend, Historian Bill would approve (yes, he of everybody's favourite local radio sports show: https://www.mixcloud.com/brynandbill/new-episode-15-the-bryn-bill-football-show-with-tom-lapslie-karl-duguid-jim-french-charles/).

History Repeating Itself

Ware lies on Ermine Street, the old Roman road from London to Lincoln. It’s claimed to be one of the oldest continuously occupied sites in Europe. The town’s name dates from the Anglo-Saxon period, when weirs were built to stop the invading Vikings from escaping in their long-ships, after defeat by King Alfred the Great, in a nearby battle. Later, it was famed as a coaching town, being on the Old North Road, less than a day's journey from London. It became the source of the 17th century New River, constructed to carry fresh water to London. It was also an old brewing town; and some of the old maltings buildings still stand – though, sadly, no longer in working order. The town is mentioned in Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales” and boasts the remains of a thirteenth-century friary, with a large fourteenth-century parish church opposite. Its famous Great Bed of Ware (now housed in the V&A museum) was built by Hertfordshire carpenter Jonas Fosbrooke in 1580. It’s mentioned in Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night” and Ben Jonson’s “Epiconene”. It was previously used at the town’s Saracens Head and White Hart Inn hostelries.

The Great Bed of Ware: it was to be hoped that Ware F.C.'s tactics would NOT be sleep-inducing.

Brightlingsea has its own historical significance, of course. Mentioned in the Domesday Book, as Brictesceseia, the lord of the manor had been King Harold Godwinson, up until he took one in the eye for the team, in his defeat by William the Bastard ... he really WAS one, too, wasn't he? The town’s fourteenth century Jacob's Hall is reputedly the oldest timber-framed building in England. It’s also the only community outside Kent and Sussex which has a formal connection to the venerable Confederation of the Cinque Ports. But all of that is mostly in the past, now.

Ware F.C.: 1904 Herts. Senior Cup fancy-dress winners?

These days, Ware F.C. is based at Wodson Park, a sports complex North of town, with very easy access to the A10. This meant that my 32 mile round-trip from Enfield took well under an hour of driving time, even including my detour to the town centre. It’s a neat little ground with a nice main stand; but the sloping pitch, uneven surface and uneven officiating meant there was to be no level playing field for Regent to enjoy today, either literally or metaphorically. All of which would probably work in the hosts favour.

Ware are currently dabbling with the wrong end of the league table, having suffered 16 defeats in their last 24 games, in all competitions; including a 5-0 midweek hammering, away to today’s guests, less than 4 days earlier. Whereas the visitors went into this game second in the table; behind leaders Maldon & Tiptree only on Goal Difference - and with a game in hand. In a run of 12 unbeaten league games, they have only dropped 4 points this calendar year, including clocking up a critical, narrow win over their title rivals, “The Jammers”.

 

Good Will Hunt(ing)?

Keen to maintain their momentum in what is now, surely, a straight, two-horse race for the Ryman North league title – and automatic promotion – Brightlingsea Regent manager, James Webster, and his back-room team have sought to shuffle their squad options and to continue bringing in the best available additional talent. I’ve only seen Brightlingsea play once before, this season; in their away win at Brentwood Town, back on Fireworks Night: Remember, Remember, The 5^th of November (see match coverage elsewhere on this blog page). Webster went on to receive the Ryman League Manager of the Month Award for November, with that side. Such is the scale of change within the club, and their lust for the league title, however, that only 6 of that November starting line-up would be in the First XI for this match, less than four months later.

Webster’s subsequent Hunt hasn’t JUST been for "good will", though. He’s been scouring the planet (or, at least, North-East Essex) for players who will bolster his side with a greater killer instinct; a trait which might yet conjure automatic promotion out of the R’s lofty second place.

In the middle of February, Brightlingsea Regent announced their latest “big new signing”, after poaching Billy Hunt from Stanway Rovers. His “superb scoring record” includes netting 36 times in 50 appearances for Stanway, in the Thurlow Nunn Premier Division. He previously spent two seasons as top scorer at Heybridge Swifts, after a spell with Chelmsford, in the Conference South. But what’s in this local move for glory-hunting Billy, himself? He is quoted as saying “it’s not often you get the chance to be in a title-chasing side … and hopefully I can add something to the team and help them finish in the Ryman North play-offs.” Perhaps he hasn’t yet read the finer detail of Webster’s end-of-season script carefully enough. Hunt has previously worked with Angelo Harrop - the club’s new First Team Head Coach, since the end of December – when he was previously in charge at …

yes, Stanway Rovers.

The Ryman League: it's a dirty sign!

So not only does the Brightlingsea player roster continue to be bolstered; but so does that of the coaching staff (Harrop already holds a UEFA B Coaching Licence) - at Stanway’s expense. Just how is Brightlingsea funding such extravagance? The good news for Webster is that his faith in his new signing seems well-placed. In the R’s last game, that home triumph over today’s hosts, the appropriately named recent joiner (Good) Will had Hunt(ed) down a hat-trick; including the decisive opening two first-half goals - thus making an immediate return on whatever the club’s investment in him has been. With Ware now well-warned, Good Will was likely to be Hunt(ed) down a little better himself, in this follow-up encounter.

Let’s Get Ready to Rumble!

The day’s attendance of 102 brought Ware’s home average for the season up to 68; barely more than half of Regent’s own home average gate, of 121. Even that bigger, Brightlingsea figure is only the league’s 8th highest average home crowd, though. Incidentally, mid-table Bury Town are the Big Boys in this league, with an average home gate of 265. It remains something of a mystery how any of these clubs apart from Bury, perhaps, can operate on the revenues generated by such slim pickings, no matter how loyal and vociferous their fans might be. The entrance fee at Ware is just £8 (plus an extra £1.50 for the match-day programme. So gate revenues were unlikely to have exceeded a thousand pounds for this encounter. Some away supporters seemed to have donned pirate-themed fancy-dress garb; but it was not clear if they had paid extra for this privilege.

Away Day Fan Fun: with drums and flags and fancy-dress. (Photo: Tony Osborne)

Given their respective positions and form, the clever money might well initially have been on an away win in this fixture; but one Regent's fan who’d been at the mid-week game suddenly appeared at my shoulder, telling me that the 5-0 result had been very flattering to Regent; and that Ware were not a bad side, at all. Although I noticed neither fez nor moustache at the time, he might well have been the mysterious shop-keeper from “Mr. Benn”.

... Because, he'd appeared out of nowhere and, just at that moment (as if by magic) Ware started the game as the livelier side. Indeed Sam Cowler, in the visitors’ goal, needed to be alert and agile in the opening minutes to keep the scores level, from a Ware corner on their left. The hosts had a long-throw specialist, too; in the shape of wing-back Junior Appiah, who would hurl in missiles from the right for the whole game; and Brightlingsea continued to look nervous at the back throughout the opening exchanges - and beyond.

Sam Cowler: airborne, early on, to protect The R's goal.

From the outset, the home side vociferously challenged the referee’s decisions and control of the game – at least, they queried all of his decisions that went against them. Brightlingsea fans might grumble that there were very few such decisions, as a result. Despite all of this early hubbub, and their shaky start, the R’s gradually grew in stature, as they adjusted to the uneven bobble of the playing surface. Brightlingsea had a very decent penalty shout turned down, followed by a series of corners; all of which the hosts withstood manfully. The Blues were determined not to let their visitors settle too comfortably; and established the uneven rhythm of what was to be a physical and niggly encounter.

No penalty! It was noticeable that, by the second half, the linesman had finally learned what that yellow thing on a stick was actually for. 

After half an hour, an uncharacteristic defensive lapse on the right by The R’s skipper, Matt Cripps, let Ware’s #9, Gareth Price, in on goal; but he was unable to capitalise on this rare opportunity; seeing his low, left-footed shot saved by the feet of Cowler. It was a scrappy affair in typical, cool February conditions; and there was plenty of head-scratching on the away bench, as to how to turn up the heat, to avoid losing ground on their promotion rivals. Despite bustling industry from both sides, the game remained scoreless at half-time, as the crowd gratefully sought warmth in the clubhouse bar.

Man in Black: The R's manager, James Webster, abandons his dug-out to get a first-half, first-hand view from his right wing - and the terrace.

Things livened up on the pitch considerably, though, after the break; and the complexion of the game changed completely after just three minutes of the second half, as Regent’s #8, Jake Turner pounced, in something of a goal-mouth scramble, to toe-poke home the first score of the game.
Turner pounces, (centre) as Ware's 'keeper reacts just too late: 0-1. (Photo: Tony Osborne)

The Ware FC website tells the story of the next passage of play rather well: "Ware responded almost immediately and Murat Karagul's corner was met by Josh Oyibo on the edge of the area. His shot seemed to beat Cowler but was cleared from the goal line by an alert defender. It was enough to tell Ware that there was still something on offer from the game and they enjoyed another good spell playing down the slope in search of an equaliser. It was all undone with just over 15 minutes to go".

On the hour mark, Mr. Johnson finally signalled he’d had enough heckling of his decisions, by sending off one of the home coaching staff to the stands, with a Red Card. It was too little too late, for him to really take control of this game, though. Meanwhile, news of Maldon’s troubles at Bury was, apparently, filtering in on ‘phone apps around the ground, as the away support burst into a rendition of “We - Are - Top of the League - said We are top of the league”.

Brightlingsea's Kelly, prepares to celebrate possibly his 100th club goal. Your doughty reporter can be seen in yellow fancy dress(?) at centre. (Photo: Tony Osborne)

And that table-topping position finally looked secure after 75 minutes, when #10 Phil Kelly doubled the lead, with what was claimed to be his 100^th Brightlingsea goal – although the club website says he’s still 'only' on 86! Away celebrations were loud and heartfelt. The wind was well and truly knocked out of Ware's sails, finally; and there was still time for the visitors to add a late, slightly flattering third, in the 87^th minute, courtesy of sub. Ricky Griggs.

The Aftermath

It won’t have been the result Ware were looking for; but, in truth, they’d mostly been marginally second-best – apart from in their well-drilled complaining department. They remain just two places and four points above the relegation zone. Ware look too well organised to go down; but could do with instilling better discipline across their side - and the dug-out.[Later Addition - end of season post-script: as it turned out, the Pharaoh's all-seeing football eye had adopted a squint. On the last day of the season, Ware WERE, indeed, relegated. Equal on points with both Waltham Abbey and Heybridge Swifts, they had scored more goals than either of those rival teams ... but had conceded one too many goals. Their Goal Difference was -18, versus -16 and -17, respectively. One less goal conceded in the match reported above would have saved them from the drop; and, as I said at the time, Brightlingsea's late third really had been "slightly flattering". But such is our cruel football mistress].

Meanwhile, the final whistle saw Brightlingsea Regent bestride the Ryman League North Division like a mighty, Tier Eight Colossus. They would go on to round out February by winning their game-in-hand, the following Tuesday against Soham Town (making it seven straight league wins) to take a six point lead over Maldon. Although they then relinquished half of that lead again, the following Saturday, in an unexpected, narrow, home defeat to fellow promotion hopefuls, Thurrock. Given the recent implosion of form and play-off hopes by my own side, Enfield Town, in Tier Seven (with just ONE point earned from 4 home games, since early January – and only TWO wins in their last eight league games ... Come On, You Towners!) it seemed there was a very good chance that Brightlingsea might be going Head-to-Head with “us”, next season. Or is The Emperor, in fact, merely parading naked, in front of prematurely-celebrating fans?

In a match-day programme foot-note, and as a former English Teacher, I can’t help pedantically pointing out the continued abuse of our poor old apostrophe - and pitying its plight (see above). Singular or plural? Possessive or Abbreviated? "Assistant Referee’s" what, exactly? Perhaps it should be "Referee's Assistants", next time; for clarity and correctness. But, with all that confusing nit-picking, I may getting be too close for comfort to Abbot and Costello territory, again; and that historic, comedy gold …

Culture Vulture:

* https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kTcRRaXV-fg - Abbot and Costello: “Who’s on first base?”

** https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr_Benn - “Mr Benn” (who lived at number 52, Festive Road) was created by David McKee and originally transmitted by BBC TV in 1971 – ‘72.

Remember, Remember, the Fifth of November …

Brentwood Town vs Brightlingsea Regent - 3pm k-o

Saturday 5th November, 2016

Ryman Isthmian League, Division One North

Yes, it was very definitely November 5^th: with misty tendrils of smoke stretching up into the glowering sky; an intense, infernal incense of the pyrotechnicist’s ‘black powder’ and sulphur; the live-wire fire-crackling of incendiary rockets; the colourful booming of star-bursts in the air - and that was just what was emanating from both teams’ changing rooms at half-time. There was a lot for both sides' managers to … errrm, “discuss” with their players. Thank heavens I wasn’t there on Hallowe’en night. That could have been even scarier! But I am getting ahead of myself. [Incidentally, there is an old pub on South London’s Nunhead Green, not far from where I grew up, called The Pyrotechnist's Arms. When I was young(er) it was, I’m fairly sure, called “The Pyrotechnicist's Arms”; but try saying all seven of those tongue-twisting syllables to a cabbie, after having already been suitably refreshed elsewhere, beforehand. The pub is built on the former site of a firework factory; and one suspects there may yet be occasional ‘fireworks’ going off inside, after a long session of serving the locals’ needs … but I digress.]

Let me start from earlier in the day. I recently teamed up with Bill Lawrance, one of Radio Colne’s very best sports presenters, he of “Bryn & Bill Football Radio” fame, to cover what would for me be a ‘neutral’ fixture. Confidently leaving Enfield Town to combat their visitors, Worthing, without me (and having seen Fulham dismiss their local rivals and hosts, Brentford, the night before, 0-2) I lowered myself confidently down one level of the English Football Pyramid, to check out Brentwood Town’s game against Brightlingsea Regent.

There is no doubting that the winter clocks have gone backwards in the UK, and elsewhere, recently: politically, economically, socially and literally. Truly, “Now IS the winter of our discontent”.* When I climbed into my car, on my way to meet with Bill, the clock on the dashboard was still an hour ‘fast’ – having not been reset, last week. As a result, my sense of timing was, subconsciously, completely confused; and I raced to join Bill before kick-off. He was scheduled to interview Brightlingsea’s manager before the match; and I had been invited along to offer moral support – which would have been difficult, if I was already an hour behind schedule.

Fortunately, the M25 was uncharacteristically kind to me, on my 45-mile round-trip; as were the A1023 and the Brentwood Centre car park. I was able to avoid the orange-faced “TOWIE” crowd, intent as they were on their Xmas shopping raids into Brentwood’s town centre, with some cunning guess-work, coupled with a light hand (not to mention some slick sleight of hand) on the steering wheel. My advice to others in a similar situation? Do NOT follow the yellow-brick road of the High Street, into town!

On the same day that Hereford-based Westfields played their first ever match in the FA Cup “proper”, representing tier 9, it seemed somehow right and fitting to be attending a match in Brentwood. Why so? Because an earlier Brentwood Football Club (established in the 19th century) reached the quarter-finals of that prestigious old tournament, back in 1885–86; when they were beaten 3–1 by the eventual winners, Blackburn Rovers. [Westfields have already won six matches in the FA Cup’s preliminary rounds, this season. If a Premier League side were to win as many games as Westfields already have, they would lift the trophy. It's no wonder these lower-ranked teams declare the early rounds of the tournament to be "our cup final".]

I, by contrast, was here to see a fixture in The Ryman Isthmian League, Division One North; one level below Enfield Town. Where 15^th place hosted 2^nd in a tie whose result was a tougher one to call than those respective tier 8 table positions might imply. Going into the game, Regent had not lost since 1^st October. They arrived on the back of a string of 9 wins and a draw, in a hectic schedule of fixtures. Brentwood’s own recent form, meanwhile, belied their lowly league position. True, their league games at the Brentwood Centre this season had produced 4 wins and 4 defeats so far (no draws!); but they were unbeaten at home since the 8^th October; although they’d played far fewer games, lately, than their opponents. A stat that was of great interest to Bill & me was the fact that, prior to this game, Brightlingsea were sitting pretty in the highest league position in the club’s history: 2^nd in the eighth tier, with a real prospect of fighting for a promotion place. Whether that would be via the automatic or the play-off route (or not all) might be decided, to some extent, by the result of this very game. All very exciting!

Brentwood’s average home crowd of 88 is well below that of their guests today. Regent can boast an average home gate of 99 (possibly with a chocolate flake sticking out of the top?). They have played their away games this season in front of an average of 124 fans, which puts them 4^th in the Division’s travelling attendance table. It was no surprise, then, that Brightlingsea’s travelling contingent had boosted today’s crowd above the hosts’ average to a massive … 90. Bill and I being the two extra attendees.

We met with a very accommodating selection of the visitors’ management team, well before kick-off, to try and get some sense of their hopes and fears – beyond the outcome of the US Presidential election.  Manager James Webster, despite being sponsored by “Olly's Mobile Bar” (no, really; he is) looks to have lost some weight recently; certainly compared to his profile pic on the club website. Especially when he donned his spectacles; which gave him a slightly academic, Wenger-esque air. James was a very calm presence. Happy to try and give a couple of “reporters” some access to his inner thoughts; but equally keen not to let that access disrupt his normal match-day routines. We caught up with him before the warm up and, later, in the Away changing room, preparing his team sheets and stirring pre-match speech. He acknowledged that his squad were in a very positive frame of mind. Rather, he thought one of his key considerations for the game was to avoid the complacency that can set in after a successful run of results. He was setting up his side in a 4 – 3 – 2 – 1 formation (should that be called teh Countdown Conundrum?) to combat what his researches suggested would be a Brentwood outfit playing 4 – 2 – 3 – 1 shape. Was there much to deduce from that subtle numerical difference between the sides’ expected shapes? He gave an enigmatic smile. Clearly we would have to wait and see.

Bill (left, in headgear) gives Management Assistant Chris Smith a pre-match, journalistic roasting in the Away dressing room. (photo: DH)

We also managed to spend more time with one of Regent’s coaches, Management Assistant Chris Smith. Chris was a particularly useful man to have in the dug-out today (not that he isn’t always, I’m sure!) having previously spent nearly 8 years with today’s hosts; and having helped Town, in his role as Assistant First Team Manager, to gain promotion to The Ryman Premier League, just a couple of seasons ago.

As a neutral, I was particularly going to be on the look-out for some entertaining forward play from both sides. Not only would Tom Richardson be turning out as Regent’s #9, against his old club (and we all know about the curse of the returning striker, don’t we?); but the game also boasted the two top-scoring players in the league: Brentwood’s Lamar Reynolds (playing at #11, with 13 goals so far); and Brightlingsea Regent’s Aaron Condon  (also playing at #11, with 12 goals to his name). Tally Ho, indeed!

Should Have Gone to Specsavers

Regent had a bright (lingsea?) opening 5 minutes; but then quietened down dramatically, as the hosts increasingly took control of possession and of a scrappy game. Was this simply the latest incarnation of von Moltke’s famous military maxim: that “No battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy”?  Certainly, the undulating playing surface was as reminiscent of a battle field as it was a football field. There were even what looked like machine gun nests in the raised, sandy patches in front of the goal nets at each end. Alas, rather than the titanic 90-minute war of attrition, or the quality of the action in front of goal, one of the main talking points of the game would turn out to be the match referee. It is a cause of great consternation, across the nation, that so little appears to be being done by our footballing authorities, so little incremental investment being made, to improve the standard of officiating in this Beautiful Game of ours. Much of the mass media’s post-match attention – and that of the meagre crowd - was taken up with the questionable standard of refereeing in this fixture. Step forward one Andy Gray (no, not THAT Andy Gray – self-destroying controversialist, sexist and bigot, of female assistant referee-disrespecting infamy). I refer here to Mr. Andrew Gray of Suffolk, promoted to the Contributory League Referees list only this summer. It turns out his performance as match referee was being assessed on the day; and it turned out to be a tough gig. The assessor’s report might make for interesting reading.

Sian Massey at Cardiff City, inspecting ... well, I think you can see what she's inspecting.

Within the first half hour, Bill & I were nudging each other, raising the odd eyebrow and discussing the state of refereeing in general, prompted by some of Gray’s decisions and his officiating style. Unsurprisingly, those “idiosyncratic” decisions started to be questioned by the players themselves very quickly; and soon his authority was being questioned and undermined, too, by regular back-chat and banter. One player in particular, Brentwood’s shaven-headed  #10, Matt Hall, seemed to be increasingly “taking the law into his own hands” and “putting himself about a bit”. Matt has, apparently, been round the block, including some time as a Leyton Orient junior. So perhaps he can scent a weak referee. He can certainly smell where the goal net is; because, after 35 minutes, he opened the scoring, to put the hosts ahead 1-0. Regent’s right wing-back, #2 Nicky Griggs, was out of his defensive position as his side’s push forwards broke down. Brentwood’s own #2, Ben Sampayo, took full advantage. Sprinting with the ball into the left-wing position, he drove in a low cross for Hall, who turned it neatly past the Brightlingsea ‘keeper, Dan Beeson.

... and it had all started so very amicably.

Luckily for the visitors, Brentwood’s opener was the signal to finally put their Plan A into play. Just two minutes after the opener, the curse of the returning striker struck in earnest. Richardson advanced on goal with the ball from the right and, almost out of nothing, struck a venomous, swirling pile-driver “like a rocket” (appropriately enough, given the day’s date) between the despairing, diving goalie, Joe Taylor, and the top right-hand corner joint of the goal frame. With the score at 1-1, Regent remember remembered that they were the form team and second in the table, as they slowly took control of a game that had seemed to mostly pass them by, so far. Now all the fireworks were coming from the visitors. Well, to be honest, that should probably read “all but one of the fireworks…”

A perfect sunset backdrop for the "fireworks".

On the stroke of half-time, the “influential” Hall produced arguably the key talking point of the game. He put in what might euphemistically be called “a full-blooded challenge” that produced for him a straight red card and an early bath. Brightlingsea’s big #4, Connor Witherspoon, was simultaneously shown a yellow card, probably for his reaction to the initial challenge; but the debacle on the pitch took some time for Mr. Gray to control and resolve - delaying our return to the warm clubhouse. His performance so far may itself have been primarily the cause of his own problems; but he now had a real job on his hands to keep any semblance of authority or control, for the remainder of the game.

If there were any doubts as to whether the red card had really been a deserved punishment, the travelling Brightlingsea match photographer later confided that he had captured the incident on film; showing Hall off the ground, coming through his opposite number studs first. Pretty much an open-and-shut X-rated case, then. Perhaps wisely, they are not a sequence of photo’s that Regent chose to feature on their web-site, after the match. Unfortunately, the ref had already lost the confidence of the crowd and the players long before; and his deliberations in reaction to this incident were not going to win it back for him. Certainly not among the home supporters or players, anyway.

After those half-time, changing-room fireworks already referenced, above, it was the visitors who (unsurprisingly) dominated their 10-man opponents, for most of the remainder of the game. Perhaps they would have done so anyway, without their extra man advantage. We will never know. It could still have turned out so very differently, though. The first meaningful action of the second half saw Beeson scramble the culmination of a threatening, low, Brentwood effort up and just over his cross-bar; possibly more by luck than judgment. Although it is often said that you make your own luck, in this game.

It took time for Regent to make their advantage really count; but, as the additional second-half effort required started to take its toll on the 10 men of Brentwood, Richardson scored his second goal, just after the 70-minute mark (that curse of the returning striker, again; writ large). A clumsy penalty was then conceded (to a howling chorus of derision and disapproval from the home fans, for Mr. Gray). Club top-scorer, Condon, stepped up to confidently convert the spot-kick and go joint-top in Ryman League goal-scorers’ table. He now shares that top-scoring spot with Brentwood’s Lamar Reynolds; but the latter is unlikely to be adding to his tally any time soon.

Top-scorer Condon confidently slots home the visitors' 3rd, from the spot, under barely adequate floodlighting.

After Shamido Pedulu had scored a fourth for the visitors, three minutes from the end of normal time, a rare Brentwood foray up to the edge of Regent’s penalty area saw Reynolds take a heavy fall on Brentwood’s left, deep into added time, under pressure from a visiting defender. He required prolonged treatment on the pitch; and was eventually substituted and led away by the medical team. One of the walking wounded, gingerly holding what looked like a badly damaged right arm. A foul was duly awarded; and that was probably all the incident merited; but Brentwood’s enraged fans were, by now, loudly challenging every decision (as were a number of their team) scenting referee blood. They were demanding red cards, bonfires and flaming torches of their own. No prizes for guessing who was their prime candidate for “Guy” - hanging, it turns out, presumably being too good for him, after all. Yet those home fans should be careful what they wish for. In the absence of sufficient "trickle down" funding from the feast-laden banquet table of the Premier League (see comment piece, below) we are stuck with the referees that we do have. Without even a poor referee in charge, there would be no game to watch at all, poor or otherwise. As "The Guardian" reported recently, and as other non-league fans discovered to their cost and annoyance:
"Referee abandons game after 13 minutes, in response to moaning fan"

• Non-league game between Holmer Green and Edgware Town abandoned
• Referee had confronted Edgware fan who disagreed with several decisions

https://www.theguardian.com/football/2016/oct/31/referee-abandons-game-moaning-fan-holmer-green-edgware?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other

Bill & Des (far right, NOT playing) await the hanging of the referee with great anticipation, beneath the gallows erected expressly for that purpose.

After most Premier League matches, a good deal of punditry time is given over to a post mortem on the performance of the referees and their assistants. Such forensic analysis on this game at Brentwood, would take up most of Saturday night. The final whistle at Brentwood, when it eventually came, was a heart-gladdening sound. Everyone had just about had enough. Still, some home fans vented their frustrated spleen on Twitter, after the game, shared below. It's difficult to blame them; I have done similar myself, elsewhere in this blog:

1) Yet again, the treatment or lack of protection for Lamar continues. Disgusting. The lad is now getting an x-ray. That ref needs to go

2) The referee had a poor game

3) Ref ruined the game today - shocking.

4) What was going on with the ref today? - does “shocking” cover it?

Whatever the merits (or otherwise) of Mr. Gray, Brightlingsea Regent now sit atop the Divisional form table, based on the last 6 results; though only on superior GD from their main rivals, table-topping Maldon & Tiptree. While, despite the day’s set-back, Brentwood Town still lie 6^th in that table, themselves. The loss of a pair of influential players will not help their cause or their season much, though.

Now, maybe if I go and reset the clock on my dashboard to the correct time, perhaps I will be less stressed on my next car journey – and maybe, just maybe - I can turn back time to reverse some of these recent footballing events, avoiding much unpleasantness and that nasty, late injury; as well as the odd famous political landslides. Or maybe not.

For those interested, Enfield Town did manage to beat Worthing, 2-1, without me, after all; and, following yet another slow start to a season, now sit comfortably in 7th place in the  Ryman Football League, Premier Division: The Promised Land, for Brightlingsea Regent.

Comment: "Lessons in Love Maths"* – a Rant from The Pharaoh’s Soap Box (pyramid-shaped, of course!)

Take screenwriter William Goldman’s advice (from his “All The President's Men”) and "follow the money"! Premier League income has risen exponentially to record levels, in recent years. In fact, Wiki ranks the Premier League the world’s 4th biggest sports business, behind those three even more huge US sports franchises:  the NFL, the MLB and the NBA. Even  England's 2nd tier (the Football League Championship) was ranked the 13th largest business, globally. While Football League Divisions One & Two were ranked 37th & 49th, respectively.

Amazingly, Premier League profits have actually fallen. Could that be anything to do with the fact that player salaries alone accounting for almost 60% of revenue? Not of profit, mind; but of revenue. Add in eye-watering transfer fees plus the many legal and illegal leeches who suck the game dry (from agents and lawyers to corrupt officials) and you have a business model which finds itself strangely unable and unwilling to invest in the grass roots structures and facilities that should be the foundation of the English game's strength. It is no wonder most of the Pyramid has no decent referees or football pitches. Nor that England have never featured significantly in those bi-annual international soccer-fests so beloved of FIFA and UEFA, except when, very rarely, hosting the tournaments. I barely need to remind anybody here that England's last meaningful international tournament victory is now more than 50 years ago; and even then arguably only arose from home advantage. But, on the bright side, Pogba and his flunkies can all continue to make out like millionaire bandits, with their snouts in the trough of the gravy train (to mix a few non-footballing metaphors and clichés) able to maintain a seemingly unending supply of status watches, fast cars, fast women, and fast, Italian suits. Which can only be good news for the fans and players of Brentwood Town and Brightlingsea Regent, right?

In May 1981, I endured my very last formal lesson in Maths at school. That might be just as well; since the numbers I learned about back then no longer appear to behave in the same familiar way that they once used to; at least in English football's top flight. You don’t have to go peering too deeply into the astronomical numbers of Premier League football’s seedy under-belly to notice a pattern emerging; as an accountancy qualification becomes an increasingly important element of modern football. Sports headlines should very quickly give you all the flavour you need as to why football now has me learning maths lessons again. Albeit now rather more informal  ones than of yore: “Premier League revenues hit a new high but profits fall” (Bill Wilson BBC News Business reporter, 15th April 2016). This title broke the news that the Premier League football clubs saw their combined revenues increase by 3% in 2014-15 to £3.4bn (a new record, according to business group Deloitte) but their combined pre-tax profits fall (DH: yes, “fall”!) to £120m - from £190m the year before.

"Whoa! Slow down there, Hoss." Two things should jump out at us immediately as we ponder those numbers:
1) According to the IMF, that level of income would make the Premier League the 160^th largest ‘nation’ on the planet – not bad for a bunch of blokes kicking a sack of air around a field, I think; BUT

2) Unless they are deliberately ‘cooking the books’ (surely not!) that amounts to a profit margin (“PoR”) of just 3.5% per annum; making the most widely followed domestic soccer league on the planet one of the least profitable large scale business models on the planet.

It was only the second time in their history that the Premier League clubs had collectively managed even to deliver for themselves two consecutive seasons of any profit at all. Am I missing something? You’d get a better return on your investment in stocks and shares, London property, or peanut trading. The leaders of Mexican drugs cartels wouldn’t even consider getting out of bed for that measly level of return; and three clubs still didn’t manage to deliver any profit at all. Who runs THOSE clubs? Sir Phillip Green?

Of course, that was all before the beginning of the revised TV rights deal, agreed "for the next broadcast cycle”, i.e. starting this current season. The clubs’ combined wage costs rose by 6% in 2014-15, to an eye-watering total of £2bn; a record spend on salaries. Yes, you read the number right. That wages-to-revenue ratio really is 60%. During that season, first-team average salaries PER PLAYER were around £1.7 million per year. While the average basic pay in the Championship was “just” £324,250 per player, per year. I think I may be in the wrong job! Equivalent figures for Leagues One and Two are £69,500 and £40,350, respectively. With Manchester United's wage bill almost 100 times bigger than Shrewsbury Town's. Last season alone, the total attendance at PL matches was 13,851,698. For the Championship, the figure was 9,705,635 although, of course, there are four extra teams and eight extra league fixtures per year in the 2^nd tier (League One was 3,884,414 and League Two 2,582,719).

Sadly, the lower regions of English Football's Pyramid must continue merely to dream of what they could do with just a small percentage of all that cash, made available to be wisely re-invested in grass roots and community football; in essential supporting elements, such as the recruitment, training and retention of an ample supply of highly experienced, effective and efficient referees.

OK, so I have rather indulged myself with that mind-numbing raft of figures. If my match report on the above example of The Beautiful Game, from tier 8, is anything to go by, however, significant action steps are urgently required to ensure a far greater degree of trickle down investment from the infamous prawn sandwich brigade; and, more importantly, the couch potato Sky TV worshippers.

Perhaps, after all, there is a major, secret plan afoot to invest in importing hundreds of ‘foreign’ referees into our national game, to match the vast influx of over-paid, international playing talent?

No, I don’t think so, either. Is it really any surprise, then, that so many people increasingly declare themselves to be “Against Modern Football”? Lamar Reynolds may well have just added himself to that growing number. As Level 42 also found out, the hard way: “the truth is hard to take; I felt sure we had enough”.

For those interested, and still reading, Enfield Town did manage to beat Worthing, 2-1; and so, after another slow start to their season, now sit 7^th in the  Ryman Premier League. Meanwhile, Ninth-tier Westfields FC, who were just nine minutes away from winning their original FA Cup tie, succumbed 1-3 away to Curzon Ashton in the replay. As a result of that result, Curzon earned themselves the lucrative reward of hosting league opposition in the second round: another "Phoenix" club with (very recent) non-league roots, AFC Wimbledon. So yes, we can still all dream... and do!


Today's photo credits go to Tony Osborne & others.

Culture Vulture References:

* ACT I, SCENE I, Line 1: “London. A street. Enter GLOUCESTER, solus” – from “The Life and Death of Richard the Third”, by William Shakespeare

**Helmuth Karl Bernhard Graf von Moltke (26 October 1800 – 24 April 1891) known as Helmuth von Moltke the Elder: as quoted in "Donnybrook : The Battle of Bull Run, 1861" (2005) by David Detzer, pg. 233.

*** With apologies to Wally Badarou, Mark King, Rowland Charles Gould and Level 42 … the catchy bass-driven chorus of their 1986 hit is coursing through my veins as I type and reflect upon the match action.

Some People Are On The Pitch ... Do They Think It's All Over?

Hampton & Richmond Borough FC vs. Enfield Town - 3pm k-o
Sat. 23rd April - The Ryman League Premier Division

Harlow Town FC vs. A.F.C. Hornchurch - 3pm k-o
Sunday 1st May - The Ryman League Division One, North Play-Off Final

In a week when (mostly) dignified outrage greeted the long-delayed surfacing of common sense and "Truth", at the latest Hillsborough inquest (and its verdict of 96 unlawful killings) there were still some rather more mundane matters to be resolved within the world of English football - beyond the question of whether the CPS would find some balls of their own, to pursue those deceitful, perjured killers of South Yorkshire, some 27 years on. "Justice" is still awaited.

Merseyside's favourite? Like 'Teflon Dave': barely acquainted with The Truth.

Decades later: continued shame. Murdoch's press titles still cannot bring themselves to publish the real "Truth". The only major UK 'newspapers' NOT to feature the latest Hillsborough inquest verdict on their front pages.

David Cameron’s infamous “blind man, in a dark room looking for a black cat that isn’t there” had finally found the only thing they had ever been searching for. The one thing they had known must be out there, somewhere, no matter how carefully covered and heavily disguised it might have been: "The Truth". That, of course, is also the very thing which Dodgy Dave himself would never recognise; not even if it spat in his face and called him a tax-dodging, over-privileged 'toff'. Which it may yet do, one day - perhaps? Liverpool’s former manager, Saint Bill Shankly, famously once said “Football is not a matter of life and death...”; but on too many occasions it has been allowed to become precisely that.

Let us move on elsewhere now, though; to those other more mundane matters, already mentioned. Yes, it’s true that Leicester City would be visiting Old Trafford, in the hope of beating once-mighty Manchester United to secure the coveted Premier League title, with two games left to play; but, further down English football’s ‘pyramid’, there is still plenty of other unfinished business. Firstly, there is the post mortem examination to be carried out on the remains of Enfield Town’s Tier 7 season. This to be followed by a short journey into deepest, darkest Essex; and a brief dip down into the murky, twilight world of English football's Tier 8.

1)      Enfield Town versus "The Beavers"

Some People Are On The Pitch - Part 1: "Mmmmm, nice beaver! - Thanks, I just had it stuffed"*. Priscilla Presley, who appears to have 'let herself go' somewhat, leads out the Hampton mascot, before the crucial final game of Enfield Town's 'regular season'. (Photo by Tom Scott)

It was always going to be a tough ask: to beat the champions-elect away, on the final day of the regular season, with the latter still needing a result. The fixture computer had truly been tough on Enfield Town, this term. It had top-and-tailed our season with two of the toughest games of all: away at the eventual first- and fourth-placed sides in the league. It seemed, however, that Dulwich Hamlet were doing their utmost, elsewhere, on the final day, to open a play-off back door for Enfield to sneak through. With an hour gone, they were 2-0 down, away at Needham Market, to a brace of Luke Ingram goals. If things remained that way at Bloomfields, then Enfield simply had to score a single goal to make the play-offs. It was a particular shame, then, not to be able to find the Hampton net; especially given that Dulwich could only manage a single goal themselves, reducing the final margin of their defeat to 2-1. Manager Brad Quinton even brought himself on (again) as a late substitute, in hopes of a repeat late wonder-goal (see previous post, below). Quinton had said, after the Dulwich match, that Enfield Town would need to win all six of their remaining games to reach the play-offs; and he was proved absolutely spot-on - unfortunately! Five wins and a draw would not (quite) be enough.

Some People Are On The Pitch - Part 2. Contrasting Emotions: Town players (in yellow) are out on their feet - and off them; while Hampton celebrate the goal-less draw that saw them secure the Ryman League title and automatic promotion, by just a single point. (Photo by Tom Scott)

A nil-nil draw, away against the champions, was a highly commendable result for Town. Make no bones about that; but the damage to their prospects had already been done in earlier fixtures. Enfield’s players could only look on at the final whistle, as their hosts celebrated securing a title-clinching point, on their field of dreams. For a second successive season, The Towners had failed by two points (or a single result) to make the play-offs. For a second successive season, Dulwich had secured a play-off berth. One thing is for sure: “we” must toughen ourselves up for the next attempt; and start in earnest from game number one. After previously focussing all my Enfield Town grief on that fateful late-season, home score-draw against fellow play-off hopefuls Hamlet (in their 10-man incarnation! – see earlier post, below) I have now finally started the proper, reasoned and researched, end-of-season recriminations in earnest. Apart from Enfield's obvious, yet still inexplicable, slow-start which Ed’s earlier chart so ably illustrated (effectively allowing the other sides a 9-match head-start - see previous post, below) there was also another 4-match spell just after the New Year which “did" for Enfield’s promotion hopes arguably even more surely. Was it really simply the result of indulging in too many mince pies? As the details below show, a failure in that other, earlier ‘6-pointer’ with Dulwich Hamlet, followed by a brace of defeats (by a single, fateful goal) to each of two now-relegated sides, all in the space of less than 4 weeks (separated only by a routine home win against 'The Filth') spoiled an otherwise-improving and play-off-bound copy book.

Match #            Date

  28                   9 Jan                    Dulwich Hamlet 2-0 Enfield Town               L

  29                 16 Jan                    Enfield Town 2-0 Metropolitan Police          W

  30                 23 Jan                    VCD Athletic 3-2 Enfield Town                    L

  31                   3 Feb                    Burgess Hill T 1-0 Enfield Town                  L

Just 3 points gained from a possible 12 - and from a hoped-for 6 ... or 9? In hindsight, a pair of away draws against each of those struggling sides (they finished in 21st & 24th place, respectively) or just one single draw at Dulwich, could have seen Enfield safely into the play-offs - and National League-bound. Teeth may now be loudly gnashed, or ground. Although one can always point to any number of poor results or under-performances across an entire season as "the decisive factor", it was after the home draw with Dulwich that I finally knew the game was up. That our goose was cooked. Our play-off destiny was, by then, no longer in our own hands (or feet); but the seeds of that loss of control over our fate had been sown much earlier.

Would Dulwich make the most of that opportunity, served up to them so neatly, on a silver, Enfield platter? Or would they fluff their lines in the play-offs and face us again next season; allowing Town the chance to extract just, full and proper revenge? The answer to that question should be known within the next hour. Dulwich have already disposed of Bognor in the play-off semi-finals, with a 90^th-minute winner. As I type, it is half-time in the play-off final between East Thurrock and Dulwich; with the home side 3-1 up.

2) Harlow Town versus AFC Hornchurch

DIVISION ONE NORTH – END OF SEASON TABLE

#	Team	Pd	HW	HD	HL	AW	AD	AL	F	A	Diff	Pts
1.	AFC Sudbury	46	15	2	6	18	4	1	90	49	41	105
2.	Thurrock	46	17	0	6	13	6	4	99	52	47	96
3.	Harlow Town	46	18	3	2	11	6	6	92	47	45	96
4.	Cray Wanderers	46	14	2	7	13	7	3	98	52	46	90
5.	AFC Hornchurch	46	13	6	4	12	5	6	87	35	52	86

We move on, once again. This time to Harlow and Hornchurch; the two best-supported sides in the Ryman Isthmian League Division One North. Depending upon the result of this game, one of them would join Enfield Town next season, in Tier 7. So consider this journey to The Harlow Arena to have been in the nature of 'under-cover research', for next year. It would be a 'new ground' for me; but there was every chance that it wouldn't be my last ever visit there. My irregular Enfield Town buddy and former work colleague, Glenn, joined me for this road trip. Although, for him, Harlow are his more local side.

Harlow have the league’s highest average home gate, following the play-off matches (322) while Hornchurch have the fourth-highest average (177); but Hornchurch, like Enfield in the tier above, also boast the highest average away gates (261) with Harlow a long way behind, in second (with 172). So a large crowd was anticipated. The warm, May Bank Holiday weather was an added bonus that drew an even larger gate than was probably expected. Whichever side were to win, "The Only Way Was Essex". Which may have accounted for the disproportionate number of orange faces, expensive haircuts, make-up and sartorial choices on display in the crowd; and that was just amongst the men.

As recently as the 2012 - ’13 season, Hornchurch (“The Urchins”) were playing in England’s 6th tier. That's the Conference South, to you and me. After two relegations in three seasons, however, they were now fighting for the chance to bounce straight back into the 7th tier. Meanwhile, Harlow Town (“The Hawks”) were entering their third successive end of season play-off attempt in Tier 8; having failed to progress in each of the two previous years.

Both sides carried goal threat aplenty, with the second and third highest scorers in the league: George Purcell (AFC Hornchurch – 33 goals) and Alexander Read (Harlow Town - 31). The big questions were whether Hornchurch’s defence (the most miserly in the league) could nullify Read’s goal threat and overcome Harlow’s massive statistical home advantage. A crowd of 1,655 had turned out on fine, late-Spring afternoon, to find out the answer to that question. It turned out that some of those, alas, had also been lured by the call of the wild - and the generous 12.30pm bar opening. More than two hours later, there was plenty of pre-match, errrm … “atmosphere” in the ground.


The East and West stands at Harlow's impressive "Arena" stadium.

Harlow's home advantage is clear from their season's stats. Just 2 defeats in 24 league games is by far the best home record in the league; and a massive edge to take into such a crucial, final fixture. Just who had those two winning teams been, though? Brightlingsea Regent and ... yes, you guessed it, today's visitors, Hornchurch. So perhaps this really was still a 50-50 call. One look at the playing surface explained the source of much of that home superiority. It wasn't just the scale of the local support. Whisper it: nut Harlow play on an artificial, "3G" surface. "It's grass, Jim; but not as we know it!" With every bounce of the ball (and the ball was allowed to bounce a heck of a lot, sometimes from a very great height) small clouds of tiny black, rubber pellets could be seen flying off the surface. As someone who witnessed early attempts at playing professional football on artificial surfaces (at QPR's Loftus Road and Luton Town's Kenilworth Road) I can vouch that things are now very much improved, more than three decades on. There were no obvious seams or joins in the pitch, to affect the bounce of the ball. Players seemed surprisingly unworried by the possibility of 'grass' burns. Indeed, there was more "sliding in" on display than you might expect in the average Major League Baseball game. It was soon clear, however, that the visitors were taking some time to get accustomed to the degree of bounce off the surface - and the knack of keeping one's footing, when turning at speed. Unfamiliar spectators were also treated to the curious sight of those little black spouts of rubber debris coming up out of every footfall and ball bounce around the pitch.

It appears the Harlow PA system is used to broadcast regular, loud air-raid sirens at various critical moments of the club's games. Its first deployment was to welcome both teams to the pitch. It should have sounded something of a warning to Hornchurch, who were subjected to a blitz of first-half superior intensity from the home side, while the visitors initially struggled to gauge the pace and bounce of the pitch - and the tenor of the game.

There were quite a few 'larger-framed' chaps on display. The Urchins' #6, Dave Collis, is an experienced 34 year-old journeyman who boasts exposure with both Barnet and Charlton "B". The home crowd delighted in suggesting he was no longer entirely in control of his diet; linking him to excessive pie consumption and a sponsorship deal with Greggs The Bakers. It was banter he was happy to demonstrate he could easily ignore; showing nouse, poise and control (though perhaps not "grace") under fire - and revealing himself to be one of the visitors' best assets. Collis wasn't the only 'generously-built' player on show; but he was the one receiving the most 'stick'. Despite allowing their hosts early dominance of possession and territory, it was Hornchurch who had the first on-target efforts and the first corner of the game. A rather physical contest was developing and the youthful referee, Mr. Paul Howard, was content to allow some of the obvious big-match tension to be worked out that way. To a neutral observer it may have come as something of a surprise to find that the only booking of the match was not served out until the 87th minute; to Harlow Town's influential #7, Jared Small.

It was extremely possible that Harlow's early pressure and tempo could leave them tiring in the later stages of the game, on a warm afternoon, if they didn't reap some first-half rewards in front of goal. Several early Harlow attacks ended in indecision, uncertainty and confusion amongst the Hornchurch defence; and some miscommunication with their 'keeper. The Hawks looked the hungrier side; Hornchurch the less settled. Amidst plenty of thud and blunder, it was perhaps appropriate that the first, messy score of the game should come from an own goal. Harlow's Junior Dadson crossed from deep on the left, feeding Piers Wixon, whose shot came back off the Urchins' cross-bar, only to rebound into the net, off Hornchurch's hapless Elliot Styles: 1-0. Things got worse for the visitors just before the half-hour mark. As yet another Hornchurch attack broke down, from a corner, the cover provided by their #7, Abs Thompson (who had stayed deep to allow the big units to go forward) proved inadequate. His weak, defensive header fell straight to his opposite number, Harlow's Small. Faced with a three-on-two advantage, Small threaded a neat, intelligent through-ball for his #9, top scorer Alex Read, who did good work, drawing out 'keeper, Sam Mott, before unselfishly delivering a neat square pass for #10 Wixon to finish calmly, into an empty net: 2-0. Cue the air-raid sirens, some relaxation of the remaining home tension - and a lot of red-and-white flag-waving.

Curiously, this appeared to be the somewhat belated cue for Hornchurch to grab the game by the scruff of the neck and impose some possession of their own. I offered Glenn the opinion that the visitors were still far from out of the contest. That a goal before half-time could yet open things up, dramatically. A prescient cliché, as it eventually turned out. Despite improved possession, however, the Urchins continued to look oddly blunt 'up front'; with their hosts' GK, Hughes, barely called into action. That was until the 41st minute. Hornchurch's Tambeson Eyong went down in the Harlow area, under a challenge from Jared Small. If The Hawks had done their homework better, they might have noticed a portent concealed in an anagram of Eyong's full name: "Beg a Stony Omen". Perhaps what followed truly had been written in the stars, after all. It looked a fairly harsh call; but referee Howard showed no hesitation in awarding a Hornchurch penalty. Small had, foolishly, given him a decision to make. Now it was the visitors' top-scorer who took centre-stage. George Purcell stepped up, after a short delay (for the now traditional challenges to the referee's authority, ability and parentage) to hit the ball firmly past Hughes; having sent him the wrong way. It was, apparently, Purcell's 41st goal of a busy season, in total; and it reminded Harlow that they were still in a game: 2-1.

Hawks 'keeper Hughes: he is about to go the wrong way (to his right) for Purcell's confident penalty strike.

With the excitement building again (both on the pitch and off it, in the stands) the game was brought to a halt for some alternative entertainment, thoughtfully provided by a number of the by now very well "refreshed" locals. Having annexed a supposedly reserved, yellow-painted, hatched area of the concourse, in between the teams' two dug-outs, some Harlow fans began banging on the roof above the visiting coaching staff's seating. They then suggested various alternative views and opinions on such important footballing matters as their guests' sexuality and the historical behaviour and character attributes of their parents. In moments, the fuse had been lit and thirty or more folk (lads and a few local 'ladies') were eagerly trading punches and insults, throwing drinks and generally "giving it large", across the barrier separating fans from pitch. I can now add, to the rich tapestry of my long-running football spectating experiences, the unusual sights and sounds of a colourful punch-up; and a club manager, in respectable suit and tie, repeatedly yelling at fans of his own side to "F*ck Off! Just F*ck Right Off!" Eventually they did just that, once a brave stadium steward had forcefully made his presence felt. These were interventions for which he and Harlow's gaffer, Danny Chapman, were warmly applauded by all those other less physically 'involved' fans, nearby. If any footage of the incident were to come to the attention of the FA, or if the referee's match report is in any way reflective of actual events, I suspect Harlow could face a number of serious charges for breaching various match-day health and safety requirements. After an extended delay, the game eventually restarted; but not before most of the earlier momentum and energy had been drawn from the action by these unpleasant proceedings. That loss of tempo from the match was almost certainly of more benefit to Harlow than it was to their visitors who, before the interruption, had looked the more likely to score again.

With no further incidents of note, the first half was brought to a delayed conclusion; and fans were left to calm down and discuss in a civilised manner the merits of the exertions they had witnessed both on the field of play and off it. It was interesting to note later that the Hornchurch club's website match report made only a passing reference to the disturbance, incorrectly describing it as "an altercation between the two dugouts". While Harlow's equivalent (perhaps unsurprisingly) made no reference to it at all. If this game had featured on Match of the Day, it could well have been one of the central stories; with multiple camera angles, slow-motion action replays and in depth analysis. Not unlike coverage of the recent Battle of Stamford Bridge (Chelsea vs. Spurs in the EPL). My photo of the incident barely does it justice. This snap was taken slightly after the event. It had all flared up so fast and I was so surprised by the turn of events ... that my camera was turned off! Note that the players and referee are all standing a long way off.

Some People Are On The Pitch - Part 3: "Before and After" - that impromptu mêlée subsides, late in the first half (above). Rapidly, if belatedly, deployed Haz-Chem tape and a sunglasses-toting steward secure the disputed hatched area battleground, in the second half (below).

As the second half got under way, with the score at 2-1, there was a palpable sense that another goal at one end or the other could swing the momentum of the game strongly either way. That was not, however, the cue for a change to the 'cagey' play. Midfield tussles continued and it was an enthralling spectacle for the neutral. That was until eight minutes into the second half. At this point, Hornchurch's goalie, Sam Mott, was badly injured as he dived at the feet of Junior Dadson, who was stretching to convert a low cross from Syrus Gordon. There followed a delay of almost ten minutes as Mott was un-shirted, treated, bandaged and finally cleared to continue. Which was probably a relief for whomsoever would have had to go in goal instead of him. It was yet another unexpected delay which annulled, once again, any momentum the visitors had been building. It was also clear that Mott was not entirely 100%: his head wound making him now even more tentative than previously; and visibly shaken.

Some People Are On The Pitch - Part 4: Concern for shirtless Mott the Hoople leads to another extended stoppage.

I was watching events through the lens of potential future Enfield opponents. My own conclusions were that Hornchurch relied heavily on one man to break down opposition play and initiate moves (the ageing 'pie-man' Collis); while Harlow looked generally sharper 'up front' - making stretching runs into the forward channels and being a hyper-active nuisance. Both sides looked shaky and overly physical at the back; but neither would likely be disgraced, if playing against Tier 7 opposition, with a couple of judicial acquisitions. While I was mulling all this over, the game came to an end as an effective contest. In the 70th minute, the hosts left-back, #3 Layne Eadie, advanced towards the Urchins' penalty area, unchallenged. With time and space on his side - and still some 25 yards out - he drove a thundering, if speculative, effort across Mott and high into the right-hand corner of the net: 3-1. Would Mott have stopped that shot, if he had not been injured, earlier? That will remain an unanswerable question. The third Harlow goal lead to the best song of the afternoon. To the tune of The Automatic's "What's That Coming Over the Hill?", the home fans improvised an alternative response: "Is it Promo-shun? Is it Pro Mo-Shuuuun?". Glenn noted it was unlikely the band had originally envisioned such a use. I suspect they might have been impressed by the fans' creative hijacking.

Harlow's players celebrate in front of their Ultras, after Eadie's 'wonder strike'."Is it Promo-shun? Is it Pro Mo-Shuuuun?"

There followed the predictable series of substitutions and pack-shufflings: Hornchurch trying to pose new questions of their hosts; Harlow trying to run the clock down and break up any of their visitors' remaining momentum. Any goal threat came almost exclusively from Harlow, though; and Mott was called into action regularly in the later stages, as Hornchurch's desperation to go forward left them desperately stretched at the back. The injured goalie proved his mettle - and what might have been, had he not picked up that earlier knock.

Under cerulean skies, Harlow soaked up everything else The Urchins had to throw at them. Genuine warmth remained in the late-Spring air, as the referee (eventually) blew his whistle for the final time; but warmth was not in the responses of Hornchurch's faithful away following. Curses flew readily from the mouths of many of their fans. Were they unhappy at their side's slow start, their insufficient calibre and efforts, the pitch, the referee, THAT punch-up, their 'keeper's unfortunate injury - or all of the above? It mattered little. Failing any later intervention by the FA, Harlow Town had used their home advantage (by fair means or foul?) to massive effect; securing that all-important play-off final win - and (lucrative?) promotion to Tier 7. At the third attempt.

Late action in Harlow's goal-mouth; but, when it really mattered, Hornchurch (in yellow) could not muster a goal from open play. Over-awed by the occasion, the atmosphere and by small, black, rubber pellets that probably got everywhere.

"Some People Are on the Pitch. They Think it's All Over ... It Is NOW!"

By the time I had finished writing all of that, Dulwich had allowed East Thurrock to win their Tier 7 play-off final 3-1; and to grab that all-important promotion place. So it seems Enfield Town will face both Dulwich (again) AND Harlow, next season. Bring it on!

Meanwhile, Spurs had also fluffed their lines in that latest "Battle of Stamford Bridge". They got over-excited under intense pressure, allowing Leicester City to (finally) bask in the glory of their successful, 5,000-1 EPL title shot. The movie rights to this last, East Midlands story may already have been sold; but the tale of Enfield Town's phoenix-like rise from the ashes of Southbury Road and 1999 is still in the making. This year, Burnley, Wigan and Northampton are already on the move. Others will follow them, over the next few days. "It" is never, really, "All Over" at all, is it? Come on, you Towners!

P.S. As a Fulham fan of forty years standing, I still bear an entirely reasonable and deep-seated grudge against Leicester City for their having stolen 'our' promotion spot to the English top tier, back in the 1982 - '83 season. It's a long story, involving the goals of "Saint" bloody Gary Lineker and Alan "Sniffer" Smith; plus a final-day match at The Baseball Ground that has still never finished ... surely the longest game in the history of professional football. These are definitely the sorts of football grudge that are well worth nurturing, don't you think?

Culture Vulture Reference:
*Quote taken from "The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad!" (1988)
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0095705/