On the back of some rave reviews for Jonathan Baker’s superb piece on his trip to Stockport Georgians yesterday, I feel like I’m trying to steal his thunder with my own offering today. But I too embarked on a spot of groundhopping while County were down in Newport last week, for the first part of a regular feature. Although I’m lazier than Jonathan so I’ll be typing mine up in diary format. That way, I find it easier to include things like 50p biscuits and vomiting women. If you’ve got any recommendations on grounds you’d like me to visit, leave a comment below.
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Des Junior
Saturday 12 November 2022, 3pm
Chester 1 Leamington 1
National League North (5th v 10th)
Attendance: 2,238 (75 away fans)
1.37pm: I’m in The Town Crier, a pub directly opposite Chester train station, mostly used by people coming into the city to get pissed on a night out, or get pissed at the races, or those with a bit of time to kill before waiting for a train to get pissed somewhere else. I do acknowledge the fact I’ve walked past nicer establishments since leaving my house, such as The Old Harkers Arms, a popular Brunning and Price pub alongside the canal, but I want to catch the second half of City v Brentford on the telly.
I’m thrilled to see the Bees are drawing 1-1 in Manchester, but not so thrilled at not being able to hear any of the commentary, as there’s music playing throughout the pub. I’ve often been told I’d fall over if I was any more laid back, but I do have a minor gripe when it comes to pubs that screen live football without the commentary. I’ve no issue with hens, stags or whoever else wanting to balloon about to a Grease megamix or an Abba medley. I’ll probably join in. But, just for an hour and a half, let us have the dulcet tones of the Sky Sports commentary team while the match is on. The game’s currently stopped and I’m watching a bloodied Aymeric Laporte get bandaged up by the City physio. I want to be able to hear the commentary and the atmosphere while this dramatic scene is being played out, not Michael Buble crooning about making love to a Christmas cracker.
I’ve decided to book a taxi to take me to the ground. I could probably make kick-off if I walked, although only just, as it’s over two miles away. But I want to do this groundhopping feature properly and speak to a couple of Chester fans before the game. Taxi it is. Local firm Abbey Taxis tell me I should have a lift in 10 minutes, just as the fourth official holds up a board at the Etihad indicating 10 minutes of added time. That’s alright, innit?
2.28pm: My taxi’s early. Any irritation at missing the final moments of the live game evaporates instantly, however, as I get into the car, and Talksport’s Sam Matterface tells me that “City are going to lose today”. I catch my driver’s eyes in the rear view mirror, along with his beaming grin that could send the Cheshire Cat into the dole queue.
Turns out he’s a United fan. He speaks with a heavy foreign accent, but tells me he’s been in Chester for the last 20 years. “It’s getting worse here. When I first came it was very nice, very peaceful. But now it’s very expensive and very busy. The city is very historic but the council are making too many modern changes, like with the bus station.”
2.47pm: Pick up my ticket, courtesy of the lovely ex-Hatter Colin Woodthorpe - now assistant manager at the Deva - then have a quick chat with Tom Burton and Oliver Mizon, a couple of lifelong Chester fans just finishing off their drinks in the Blues Bar.
Thoughts on the season so far?
“We were hoping to make the play-offs, as that should be the target for a club of our size, with the attendances we get in this division. But to be where we are, only a few points behind the leaders, I think Calum McIntyre has overachieved so far. It gives us a little bit of breathing space if we do have a bad run at some point. We’re not going to win it, but I’d like to get a home draw in the play-offs, although I’m still not sure if we’ll finish that high.”
2.55pm: “Please welcome your teams, Leamington and Chester!” There’s nothing better than a crackly tannoy at a proper football ground, and the soothing tones of an old bloke who sounds like he’s announcing the winning raffle numbers at the village fair.
3.10pm: Wrexham fans shag sheep, Cal McIntyre’s got a massive head, and Ryan Reynolds is a sex offender. Three sides of the Deva Stadium are quiet (to be fair one of those is closed), but the young lads stood on the Harry McNally Terrace behind the goal are making a decent bit of noise. The five young boys sat in front of me, all drinking plastic bottles of Coke, piss themselves at the Ryan Reynolds song. By the way, please don’t shoot the messenger, Wrexham fans. You too, Cal McIntyre.
3.16pm: Jesus, this game’s dogshit. I forgot how bad the sixth tier of English football is. I’m not trying to belittle Chester or Leamington here; my team were also dogshit at this level of the pyramid for quite a long time before Jim Gannon came in and scraped the muck off our shoes. But the opening quarter of an hour is abysmal, culminating with a Leamington player sending a header into the Harry McNally Terrace with the stereotypical 50p head. “Fucking useless,” mutters a local.
3.27pm: Leamington’s big number nine Rackeem Reid is getting frustrated up front on his own, with the rest of his teammates playing quite deep. The referee has a word as he shoves over Chester goalkeeper Harry Tyrer, after he’s collected a loose ball. A home fan also has a word: “Dick.”
3.49pm: There’s no vegetarian food at the tea hut (or sausage rolls for that matter, once a mother and daughter behind me take the last two, pissing off an old bloke who’s next in line). I make do with a £2.50 hot chocolate, which is one of the worst I’ve ever had in a football ground. I’m not expecting a Costa with sprinkles and marshmallows, but for two and a half quid I wouldn’t mind a little bit of chocolate in there, rather than a cup of boiling water, with the slightest hint that a Twirl might have had a splash about in it three weeks ago. I don’t want to get bullied off 12-year-olds on Twitter, so I can’t be bothered doing ratings as part of these groundhopping features, but it’d be a nailed-on 0/10 if I was. Actually… scrap that… 1/10. Chester have tickled me with their handwritten sign flogging biscuits for 50p with any purchase. Don’t get that at Anfield.
4.06pm: I’d like to think I’m a fairly confident guy; I don’t embarrass too easily. But I do feel my toes curling slightly when a bloke next to me asks: “WHO ARE YOU SCOUTING FOR?” The reason I write that in capital letters is because the bloke is clearly a Brian Blessed tribute act, highlighting the fact I’m a lone nerd with a notepad, as the entire block looks at me.
4.13pm: I’m not Calum McIntyre. I mean, I do have quite a large head as well, but I’m not the Chester manager. If I was the Chester manager, however, my half-time message would have been quite simple: keep putting the effort in but we need a bit of quality and composure. Enter Declan Weeks. Chester break quickly with purpose, and the ball finds its way to the number four, who delightfully curls the ball past Callum Hawkins from outside the box. “Let’s see what they do now cause they’ve done fuck all so far have they?” says a Chester fan behind me.
4.45pm: “Take your flags, and fuck off home.” The young lads on the Harry McNally Terrace have got a lot to learn. When your team should have put the game to bed a long time ago, but are only 1-0 up in the closing stages, you risk having your bums bitten with a chant like this…
4.52pm: …because you just know the fourth official will hold up the board indicating five minutes of added time, and the visitors will pile forward, building up a nice attack down the right, before crossing to a completely unmarked Louis Hall at the far post, who will smash the ball into the roof of the net, off the Chester keeper’s legs. “EVERY. FUCKING. TIME!” That’s not Brian Blessed again, but another Chester fan, encapsulating this gut-wrenching sucker-punch from the visitors, which earns them a point.
5.10pm: I’m in full-on geek mode today, so I have a wander round to where the away fans are waiting for the green light off a couple of coppers for their coach to depart down Bumpers Lane, which takes about three weeks to clear after a Chester home game. As expected, they’re in high spirits, and their spokesperson for the group is thrust towards me, who says “Just call me Boris” which is hopefully an innocent nickname and not a weird fetish where he puts on a scruffy blonde wig and an Eton accent.
Thoughts on the game?
“A really good point on the road in Wales.”
How long have you been supporting Leamington?
“About 12 years now. I’ve been following them away for the last 8. Chester’s always one we look out for. It’s a great away day, with some top pubs and a decent ground. Looking forward to a lot of beer and singing on the coach home now, as that goal feels like a winner.”
Hopes for the rest of the season?
“Just to try and be competitive and stay in the National League North. It gets more and more difficult each year with more money being ploughed into the division - I think York were spending about £30,000 a week last season - so all we can really hope for is a good run in the Cup and the Trophy, and a few results on the road.”
5.25pm: One last trip back to the Blues Bar, before my walk back into the city centre. I have a quick chat with Laura Thrift and Kris Blythin stood outside.
Laura: “We’re all part of the Chester family. I first came here with my dad when I was about nine. He was desperate for a boy. My mum gave me a colouring book because she knew I’d get bored. I loved it though. I’m a single mum with a nine-year-old myself and I’ve been bringing him since he was five.”
Kris: “I’ve been coming since I was 10. I’m from Blacon so a load of us could walk to the games from home. With Chester, what you see is what you get. We don’t have a lot of money, we spend what we earn from the fans. In the Premier League, clubs would still make millions even if no fans went to the games, but at our level the fans are everything. Too many people in Chester support Liverpool or United, but they should support their hometown team. They’d enjoy it; as you can see in the bar it’s still bouncing even though we’ve conceded so late today.”
6.22pm: I’m back in the city centre, outside the town hall, looking at a huge puddle of vomit. Just above said puddle of vomit is a woman called Becca sprawled across a bench. I’m lurking nearby as Becca’s four female friends, with broad Lancashire accents, are tickling me as they try to get this situation under control.
“Becca, what’s your password for your phone?”
Yeah, good luck trying to get an answer from Becca, as Becca seems to have snot and vomit bubbling from every orifice above the neck.
“She needs a nurse.”
“She needs to stop being a dick.”
“It’s utterly pointless calling a taxi for her now cause they’re not going to let her get in like that.”
A taxi does arrive, and perhaps unsurprisingly, the driver makes a sharp exit, not wanting to spend his Saturday night, the busiest time of the week, scrubbing vomit out of his upholstery.
One of Becca’s friends isn’t happy with her.
“Right, you need to sort yourself out, or you’re sleeping on this bench.”
Trouble is, Becca’s currently viewing this bench in the same way you or I would a four poster bed at The Ritz.
I do actually get chatting to them eventually. (Well, four-fifths of the group.) They’ve been to Music Hall Tap for a bottomless brunch, the scourge of boyfriends and husbands across the land who have to pick up the pieces afterwards. Such as Becca’s husband, who’s summoned by phone to come and pick up his comatose companion, just as I’m leaving them to it.
Matt Walker ‘eats’ the World Cup
No 2 - England (The New Cross House)
“There used to be a toll at New Cross Gate to enter London. Apt place for a pint of English craft beer and snacks to accompany a comfortable win against Iran, although 26 minutes of injury time didn’t help with this challenge!”
One of my favourite football books is Matt Walker’s Europe United, in which the author and Fulham fan spends a whole season taking in a game in all 55 UEFA countries. Well he’s back with another fun challenge, to experience Qatar 2022 in restaurants and bars across London which represent all 32 competing nations. I was going to attempt this myself but apparently there aren’t any Australian pubs in Adswood. But fear not, Matt has kindly allowed me to use his photos and I’ll bring you one each day, giving you a tasty flavour of the World Cup, in more ways than one.
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Bunch of fives
County’s last 5️⃣ trips to the Deva Stadium
1) Chester 0 County 6 (National League North, 2018-19)
2) Chester 0 County 0 (League Two, 2007-08)
3) Chester 1 County 1 (League Two, 2006-07)
4) Chester 3 County 0 (LDV Vans Trophy second round, 2006-07)
5) Chester 1 County 2 (League Two, 2005-06)
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Stockport photo of the day
Edgeley Park
A year on from that memorable night against Bolton in the FA Cup, this popped up on my Facebook memories the other day, your editor looking slightly nervous on the live BBC coverage.
Today in SK
⚽️ As I write, the World Cup game between Morocco and Croatia (0-0, you’ve not missed anything) is currently underway at Bask. Well, technically in Qatar, but you can watch all the action on the 75” screens at Bask. All the games are screened live, including some of the big boys entering the fray today, with Germany, Spain and Belgium on at 1pm, 4pm and 7pm respectively.
I was at the opening night of the Deva Stadium when County rather spoiled the party by beating Chester 2-1 in the League Cup. When I got back home to Edgeley, my delight at the result was somewhat tempered by finding that the sofa had been shoved up against the front door and the house ransacked by some light fingered scrote.