Brentwood Town vs Brightlingsea Regent - 3pm k-o
Saturday 5th November, 2016
Ryman Isthmian League, Division One North
Yes, it was very definitely November 5th: 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 15th place hosted 2nd 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 1st 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 8th 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: 2nd 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!
I, by contrast, was here to see a fixture in The Ryman Isthmian League, Division One North; one level below Enfield Town. Where 15th place hosted 2nd 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 1st 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 8th 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: 2nd 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 4th 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.
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.
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"
"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
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 6th 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.
Comment: "Lessons in Love Maths"*
– a Rant from The Pharaoh’s Soap Box (pyramid-shaped, of
course!)
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?
"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 160th 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 2nd 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.
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 7th 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.
