I've just recompleted my Northern League set....
There
are certain local non-league clubs for whom I’ve always had the greatest
affection: Dunston Fed and Whitley Bay for instance. Another team I’d include
among that select band are West Allotment Celtic; partly because of their
indomitable spirit in keeping going against seemingly insurmountable odds and
partly because of their deserved reputation for playing the game in the right
way and in the right spirit.
The
latter was exemplified during their early years in the Northern League when,
after years of dominance in the Northern Alliance, Terry Mitchell, now in
charge at Consett of course, fashioned a side blessed with lightning pace,
superb ball to feet movement and an unbreakable team spirit. The gifted
Cumbrian winger Dean Douglas encapsulated all these qualities and was a joy to
watch. However, alongside the on-field triumphs came administrative headaches
by the hundredweight. Having left their original home, the Farm Ground, WAC
used Backworth Welfare for a few years. In January 1994 they hosted Newcastle
United (Malcolm Allen, Liam O’Brien and Nicos Papavasiliou included) in a
Northumberland Senior Cup game. They lost 3-0, as could be expected, but the
real story, as so wonderfully retold in Harry Pearson’s seminal The Far Corner, was of the pampered,
Premier League parvenus travelling by coach from the changers to the pitch.
That, and the fact the lack of lights meant the game kicked off at 1.30pm,
showed the rustic charms of Backworth Welfare were sadly unsuited to the
Northern League.
Within
a decade, having firstly groundshared with Whitley Bay at Hillheads, Allotment
were in the top flight of the Northern League, after signing a lease on Whitley
Park in Benton, informally known as Blue Flames on account of its former status
as the British Gas recreational facility. Having played both football and
cricket on the bottom pitches at this complex, I can confirm the outfield is
better than many squares I’ve come across and the turf flatter and truer than
any 4G surface I know. As tenants of Blue Flames Social Club, Allotment made
zero income from bar and food sales, only taking what they managed in gate
money and from programme sales. Generally edited by the wonderfully erudite
Stephen Allott, I always availed myself of a match day magazine that was
replete with interesting articles from the whole world of football.
WAC
often played home games on Friday nights, hoovering up fans of other clubs at a
loose end and wishing to see the grassroots game, which was played to an
accompanying soundtrack of cheesy 70s disco, leaking through the open upstairs
windows from birthday parties held in the lounge of the social club. Around
this time, the Northumberland FA had moved into a suite of offices there and,
as part of the deal, Whitley Park became host for all county cup finals, bar
the Senior Cup that was still held at SJP, as well as county representative
games at junior and senior level. This was no great imposition on Allotment,
but the ominous presence of Newcastle United, whose Darsley Park training
ground adjoins Blue Flames, signalled the death knell for WAC’s tenure at
Whitley Park. I don’t have a full understanding of the labyrinthine structure
of U23 football in the professional ranks, but suffice to say, NUFC were keen
to play half their home games at SJP and the other half at Blue Flames. Having
built a covered shed behind the far goal and upgraded the lights to broadcast
standards, they demanded primacy because of cash investment in the fabric of
the place and insisted Blue Flames “renegotiate” WAC’s lease on less favourable
terms. It was a no-brainer; the club either found a new ground or died.
Out
of sheer desperation, the club moved to Druid Park. Once known as the
Wheatsheaf Ground, where Newcastle Blue Star played for years in the Wearside
and then Northern Leagues, it had been upgraded with lottery money, only for
NBS to vacate it for Kingston Park in a doomed bid to compete in the Northern
Premier League. Druid Park, with the darkest 4G surface you’ve ever seen, was
home to Newcastle University women’s Rugby League team and just about nobody
else. Initially it seemed a marriage of convenience that just might work, but
one forgets just how far out of town Callerton Parkway is. Crowds were terrible;
I went to their first home game in September 2017 and was shocked to see only
40 other souls dotted around the place. It got no better either and I was not
surprised to learn in late 2020 that WAC and Forest Hall were merging, to play
at a vastly upgraded East Palmersville Pavilion. Typically, COVID got in the
way and the curtailment of 20/21 on the back of 19/20 (two campaigns when
Allotment were streaking away towards promotion of course) meant the new ground
wasn’t up and running until pre-season 21/22.
A
friendly against Northern League Division 2 side Newcastle University on July
17th caught my attention and I cycled up after work, stopping off in
the local ALDI for a bottle of water and a sandwich. I’ve been to this ground before, watching both
Forest Hall’s Alliance side and a short-lived reserve team that played in the
Tyneside Amateur League on separate occasions, but that was a while ago. Now,
the main pitch has been made immaculate by Jacka, Tynemouth CC’s groundsman and
peripatetic surface maintenance expert and the whole ground brought up to
scratch by the installation of floodlights, not that they were needed on a mid-July
Wednesday evening, two small seated stands on the top touchline and a covered
standing shed behind one goal. There is still a second pitch, though the
Alliance team, now called Forest Hall Celtic, will share the main one with WAC.
Sadly, the famed West Allotment Celtic Match Day Command Centre at Blue Flames
has been downgraded to a Portakabin, prosaically named The Office. Cloth being
cut according to means I’d wager. The
whole site is protected by vandal proof green metal fencing, that also affords
a free and unhindered view of the pitch, as enjoyed by a couple of residents of
the adjoining retirement bungalows, pints in hand. Beer, hot drinks and food
are available from the eponymous East Palmersville Pavilion, which is also on
site, next to the 6-a-side 4G pitch that rakes in a few bob. A few fellas I
know play there every Friday night, so the place does get used.
Entering
the ground, it was the usual delight to see the Northern Alliance’s superstar
officials Keith Scoffham and Barry Sweeney; I can’t imagine any other setting
whereby linesmen are applauded onto the pitch, except when these lads are
about. It was also good to see the West Allotment committee still in good
order, though their venerable ages mean I’m often minded of the line from And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda
that remarks year after year, their
numbers get fewer; soon there’ll be no-one to march there at all. I sincerely hope this isn’t the case as the
club have performed miracles to get to this point and, they’ve got their best
side, now rightfully promoted back to the top flight of the Northern League,
since Terry Mitchell’s 2003 outfit. Even Jack Errington looks composed,
committed and up for the challenge.
The
game began at a good lick, almost as if the players were making up for all the
lost time when they couldn’t play. As with any game involving the University,
there was the jarring sensation when local accents of the home players were
contrasted with the far flung speech patterns of the visitors. It was the University,
having spent 15 minutes on the back foot, who opened the scoring when a loose
ball out from the back was returned with craft and guile from 35 yards, leaving
the home keeper Finn Hodgson a detached observer. However, this Allotment side
are full of running and intent; they equalised within 5 minutes with a close
range finish after a fluent passing move. Both sides kept up their hard
running, quick passing, high tempo approach until the break, by which time WAC
had taken the lead with a towering header from a corner.
After
the interval, heat, fitness and earlier exertions took their toll as the pace
visibly slowed. Allotment made the game safe with a clever, curling finish from
the edge of the box. As the whistle blew, I reflected on a good game, in good
company and pleasant surroundings. No doubt I’ll be back here this season
several times.
Redcar Town: Vitality
Doors Mo Mowlam Stadium
Taking
a flyer from work, I caught the Metro into town and then the Northern Rail 17.42 to Liverpool. Just
as we pulled into Chester le Street, an alert on my phone told me Durham had
knocked off the required 281 to beat Surrey in the Royal London Cup semi-final.
As a reward, they faced Glamorgan in the final; not at Lords on the second
Saturday in September, as is traditional, but at Trent Bridge on the Thursday,
two whole days later. Meanwhile The
Hundred staggers on, like a Championship relegation battle IPL, as the England test team
disintegrates and the rest of the domestic game gets shoved to the back of the
pantry like so many tins of unpalatable comestibles, bought on a whim at
knockdown prices from a budget mini mart.
Anyway,
I changed at Darlo for the rattler down to Redcar, which stopped at two of the
least used stations on the entire British Rail network; Teesside Airport,
isolated and ignored in some farmer’s field at the end of a runway, and Redcar
British Steel, still extant in an eerie, post-apocalyptic alien landscape,
devoid of humanity. Nobody got on and nobody got off at either halt, but the
train still arrived on time, which is more than could be said of me, which is
usual in these parts. You see the last time I found myself in Redcar was to see
Redcar Athletic hand out an 8-0 coating to Brandon United. Unfortunately, my
utter inability to read maps meant I didn’t get to the ground, despite relying
on my phone’s sat nav, until the home side were 2-0 ahead. It wasn’t as bad as
that tonight, but I did initially read the map the wrong way up, resulting in a
short, circuitous detour through housing near Redcar Central train station,
before getting on the right road out of town, past the College, the local park
and rows of substantial pre-war semis, arriving at my destination as the teams
came out.
Both
Redcar Town and Horden Community Welfare are new to the Northern League, having
been promoted at the end of last season from the North Riding and Wearside
Leagues respectively. They are also fairly new clubs, with Redcar spending a
few decades as a Junior set up before launching a Senior Men’s team as recently
as 2014, while Horden CW formed in 2017, after the demise of their predecessor
outfit, Horden Colliery Welfare, also in 2014. Horden play at the capacious and
venerable Welfare Park, nestled in amongst tight rows of terracing at the
bottom of town, on the way to the reopened train station and the vast, grey
North Sea. Redcar Town’s Mo Mowlam Memorial Park (aka the Vitality Doors
Stadium) is a newer, work-in-progress affair. At the moment the ground, named
after the town’s late MP, best known for her stint as Northern Ireland
Secretary during the first Blair administration, is on the tidy side of basic.
There are floodlights, a tiny covered shed at the corner by the entrance and
the foundations for a covered stand that looks like it will be bolted to the
front of the roomy and welcoming clubhouse. I didn’t get any food tonight, but
the local mosquitos and midges made a meal of me, to the extent I was massaging
in ointment and swallowing antihistamines ten minutes into the game. It’s not
often I say this, but if I ever go back it will be in winter, when the insects
are all asleep or dead.
Around
ten minutes in, after a series of early exchanges, there was a lengthy stoppage
as the Redcar number 9 injured his ankle in a seemingly innocuous fall. His
screams of agony told of the level of pain he was enduring. Having been helped
from the pitch, he lay prone beyond the touchline until an ambulance arrived
about an hour later. Following this injury, the game became a largely subdued
affair with little penetration for the first 30 minutes. Horden twice had the
ball in the net, but both were correctly ruled out for offside, though the growing
dominance enjoyed by the visitors seemed certain to bring reward and so it did
on 39 minutes, when an eye-catching outside of the foot through ball left the
home defence flatfooted, allowing Liam Dunn to convert with some style.
It
was a deserved lead, but it could have been erased seconds later when Redcar
smacked the upright with a towering header from a corner. It wasn’t to be and
the score remained 0-1 at the break. So it did when I departed on 80 minutes,
determined not to miss my train and so it did at full time. I was informed of
this by John Dawson, King of the Groundhoppers, who arrived at Redcar Central
just as the train did. I caught it and merrily scratched my insect bites on
forearms and exposed leg, until we arrived at Central, musing how pleasantly
surprised I was to see how well Horden were adjusting to the higher standard of
football, as well as how Redcar needed to display both patience and guile if
they wished to breach defences at this level.
Sunderland West End:
Ford Hub Sports Complex
After
Tuesday night’s fun down in Redcar, I was itching for more. That may just have
been the aftermath of the insect bites, but it was enough to keep me off the
sofa and out the house, ready to recomplete my whole Northern League set with a
trip to Sunderland West End versus Tow Law Town. It was only once I got on the
Metro that I realised the enormity of my 26-stop odyssey to deepest, darkest
South Hylton; literally, the end of the line. I’d been here before, back in
West End’s Wearside League days for a cup final on a blustery May Day against
Redcar Athletic and I’d remember just what a hike it was to the ground.
However, that was for an 11.00 kick off not 7.45, so I’d not noticed most of
the journey was without any form of street lighting (columns and lanterns as my
old fella used to call them); the thought of trying to scrabble my way back in
the dark was unappealing to say the least. That’s why I was delighted to see
Gav and Glenn from Ashington, as they promised to give me a lift to Pallion
Metro at full time, fending off the inevitable broken ankle a return trip on
foot would have involved.
On
my previous visit, this place was still known as Ford Quarry; a set of
windswept pitches on top of a spit of land at the edge of a vast chasm, hewn
from the rocks of the real Wear Valley. It was the northern fringe of what was
the huge and hideous Pennywell Estate, near where Wearside Jack Humble had
scribbled with his poisonous pen and recorded his bilious hoaxes on top of
stolen Andrew Gold cassette singles that had sent George Oldfield mad and to an
early grave, to meet Barbara Leach, Marguerite Walls and Jacqueline Hill whose
deaths were enabled by Humble’s handiwork.
Sunderland
West End played on a north south railed pitch with zero other facilities. Once
promotion to the Northern League was assured, they decamped to Nissan, to
groundshare with Washington, to allow for the construction of the Ford Hub. Now
the complex is complete, boasting 3 or 4 floodlit 4G pitches, Washington share
these facilities. As is always the case with such grounds, more pleasure can be
found by those training or playing than the average spectator. Clean and bright
though the Ford Hub is, I’ll not be in a hurry to get back. Partly that was to
do with the palaver involved trying to effect entrance past the Checkpoint
Charlie style front desk security. Once you’ve got in, you still have to pay
when you get to a separate turnstile by the pitch. Either that or save yourself
a fiver and watch it through the fence for free.
The
game attracted a crowd of 92 to the three-sided, windy complex. Tow Law,
attired not in their traditional black and white but rather in an apologetic
dark blue and white number like an anaemic West Brom top, were beyond awful,
offering absolutely nothing and creating less throughout the game. West End
weren’t much better, insisting on belting the ball forward as high and hard as
they could manage, almost as a gesture of contempt to the perfect 4G pitch
beneath their feet. That said, they scored 3 unanswered goals; a tap in and a
20-yard curler in the first half and a very late and very soft penalty after
the break. So much for aesthetics eh?
Well,
that’s the Northern League up to date; now my attention turns to Bedlington
Sporting, Ponteland and Whickham U23s, which I need to mop up the Alliance.
It’s a hard life, but someone has to do it.
