Shildon 1 Norton United 2

FA Cup, fourth qualifying round replay
Attendance: 936

My FA Cup overfloweth. I witnessed one of the upsets of the fourth qualifying round at Warrington on Saturday and tonight ventured to darkest, deepest Durham for the replay between the two lowest ranked sides still in the competition. Shildon was seeking to become the first Northern League club to reach the first round since 2003 (when it was they who made it) while Norton (a village within Stoke-on-Trent) has never been beyond the first qualifying round.

Dean Street is a proper football ground through and through. It is embedded in its community both in terms of its feel and location, tightly hemmed in and overlooked by narrow streets of terraced houses and the sense of enclosure all the greater after dark. Residents watched from bedroom windows as did a boy up a tree. The bonhomie of the queue for the turnstile was replaced by a hushed intensity from the crowd inside. In keeping for a match between step 4 and 5 sides calls on the pitch matched the volume of the occasional cheers and jeers off it and all were heard against the continual drone of the generator for the burger van.

Norton took the lead against the run of play when a Shildon defender slipped on the dewy grass on the edge of his box and Cropper swooped to swiftly fire home. The visitors upped their game thereafter and then extended their lead on 53 minutes when Diskin lashed a loose ball into the top corner. Another fortuitous if well taken goal. Shildon battled well, maintaining a very brisk pace, and got one back with a drive by Connor from the edge of the area (above) but they then missed three or four good chances which ultimately cost them the match.

It was an exciting game for the neutrals and away fans not that there was many of either group. The final whistle was greeted by silence apart from a manic roar from the blur of Norton bibs in the centre circle. The Shildon lads collapsed to their knees and hung their heads. They know the feeling. They lost an FA Vase quarter-final here in 2010 then a semi-final to a goal six minutes from the end of extra time in March last year. A desperate hat-trick to be sure – and no home first round derby against Gateshead. Next up for me: Blyth/Alty.

Further reading: For a more comprehensive description and daylight pics of the ground see my previous blog post from Shildon. The action pics in this post are by Thomas Clegg. His full set is here.

 

Fixtures and fittings: Shildon’s distinctive main stand was built in 1923 and Alex Ferguson switched on the floodlights prior to a friendly against Man United in 1987. The ground has many ornate, domestic banisters and balustrades because the president is part of a family staircase business.

Caught (out) on film: As I watched the first round draw on Monday night I was reminded how the competition is approaching the point where it loses its innocence. The programme included often blurry, amateur footage of fourth qualifying round matches lifted from YouTube. No chance of that now particularly for Warrington who’s tie with Exeter has been selected as the live match on BBC2. The cameraman at Warrington v. North Ferriby (shooting on his phone from the look of it) missed the Wire’s historic winner and the club has put out a plea on Twitter to anyone who may have captured it. In this internet age when we can see everything without going anywhere I rather like the quaint, exclusive notion of an incident that was seen only by those who were there. Erik Lamela’s (frankly not that exciting) ramona goal for Tottenham last week has been seen over five million times, the Warrington strike just 691 times. Talking of blurry footage from YouTube below is my humble attempt to capture the mood of the match.
 

Warrington Town 1 North Ferriby United 0

FA Cup, fourth qualifying round
Attendance: 691

‘Welcome to Warrington. Home of the Warrington Wolves’ read the sign after my turn off the M62. Well, blow me. Always thought the Wolves played in St Helens. A rather unnecessary sign, perhaps, but one that underlines that Warrington is very much a rugby league rather football town. The step 4 football club hasn’t shared the Wolves’s fortunes but they do have the same nickname of The Wire in recognition of Warrington’s history of steel wire manufacture which explains the steel sculptures on the roundabouts approaching the town centre.
The club should really be The Wire Men or something similar. Just calling them The Wire is a bit like referring to Northampton not as The Cobblers but The Shoe. Still it works for The Iron (Scunthorpe) and gives endless possibilities for headline writers (more of which later).

I began enjoying the afternoon immediately after I’d paid my tenner admission for my son and I (fantastic value) and entered the ground. The first thing I saw was a garden shed as a programme shop with two animated fellas selling pin badges and programmes as if they were at Petticoat Lane and, beyond that, a B&Q-type gazebo for flogging golden goal tickets. I entered at the same time as a man in a dog collar, a Tweedle Dee-shaped Ferriby superfan who I’d spotted two rounds ago at Cleethorpes, another away supporter in a white pith helmet and geezer in the classic 60s West Ham away shirt.

The clubhouse is what you might call open plan. VIP suite? That will be the table with a plate of biscuits. Press box? That’s the table opposite with the fella on his laptop. Among the early arrivals was George Riley, the sports reporter on 5 Live Breakfast who had also attended the previous round’s replay against Colwyn Bay. (This was Warrington’s seventh match in the competition this season.) At the top of the stairs is a fantastic Romeo and Juliet balcony with club initials on the balustrade.

An understated, characterful ground, Cantilever Park boasts a wonderful mish-mash of stands of differing vintages and, it seems, structural integrity. The backdrops are great too. Overlooking the ground in the same corner as the clubhouse is a chapel and little white villa and behind the goal, a new all-weather pitch where lads played oblivious to the main event just a slide tackle away. The view towards the far end of the ground is framed by the Cantilever Bridge (steel, of course, and from which the ground gets its name) over the Manchester Ship Canal and an apartment block which affords the same sort of free aerial view that Man City fans sought of the CSKA Moscow match behind closed doors last Tuesday.

Moments before the start a drummer struck up the best beat I’d heard since Basingstoke. “Wire on the telly, Wire on the telly,” the lads beside him sang before addressing the Ferriby fans as: “You’re just a bus stop in Grimsby.” The scene was well and truly set for a what was to be a cracking contest between two sides seeking to reach the first round proper for the first time in their histories.

The match was pretty even throughout despite the two division gap between the sides. Warrington had two good chances in the first half and, at the other end, their goalie nearly gifted a goal to the visitors when he spilt a shot. The turning point came mid-way in the second half when the Ferriby skipper was dismissed for pushing over a Warrington player. Facing 10 men and their tails up, Warrington entered their best spell of the match and crowned it when Field (sporting the finest Jesus hairstyle this side of Jonathan Woodgate) burst through the midfield to beat the North Ferriby offside trap and lob the onrushing goalie before tapping home.

As the tension mounted and number of spectators on the balcony of the apartment block swelled from one to three Ferriby surged back and put the hosts under huge pressure especially from a series of corners. Their 6ft 5 inch centre forward Denton looked forever menacing but the Wire goalie kept his side in the match with a string of five saves. So it did go down to the wire (sorry: couldn’t resist it). At the start of the game I told my son that I could smell an upset and, for once, I was right.

At the final whistle someone rushed onto the pitch with a cardboard cut-out of the FA Cup wrapped in tin foil that had been fixed to the shed door and Metcalfe sprinted over to where we were shuffling out to kiss his girlfriend, a length of cotton wool hanging from his left nostril as it had done since an earlier clash of heads (with the oppo, not the girlfriend). A vintage FA Cup occasion in all respects. My El Clasico.

Programme notes: Inexplicably, the programme inclues a review of four other programmes from random minor clubs, each scored out of 10 according to eight criteria. Chew Moor Brook’s four pager wasn’t much of a bedtime read, apparently. The programme also chronicles that in 1994 Warrington drew Darlington at home in the first round proper of the FA Cup before being knocked out in a replay in the final qualifying round. I like the way that a match that never came to pass is still part of club history. The reference reminds me of how Tow Law came within a replay of playing Arsenal at home in the Cup in 1967.

Star turn: Warrington’s manager is Shaun Reid, brother of ex-Everton, Bolton and England star Peter recently appointed manager of Mumbai City. You can see the brotherly likeness in the interview at the end of these brief highlights.

How low can you go? Desperately seeking pitches at step 7

 

I’m getting slightly worried. My late father, a retired livestock auctioneer, used to stop when we were driving around on holiday to admire herds of cattle. None of the rest of the family could understand it. We sat in the car and waited for him. Now I’m the father and my wife and kids are similarly silently bemused when I insist on stopping on our holiday travels to take pics of any scenic football pitches I spot. Somewhat eccentric and nerdy interest, I know, but heh, I’m not drowning kittens or anything …

I’m also currently  sufferering from ground envy. Other bloggers have been revealing the delights of pitches in corners of the the South Pennines, Snowdonia and Cornwall while I’ve been making do with a modern sports centre ground at Cleethorpes.  So, after considerable  Googling and today shamefully shunning the FA Cup (actually there were no suitable ties for me which is why I was up for the Sheffield & Hallamshire Cup instead) I threw my anorak in the back of the car (just as rain protection, honest) and set off for on a step 7 southern Yorkshire double-header packed with pictorial promise.

A real find in more ways than one, Shelley’s home is the former sports pitch buried deep within the woodland of the former Storthes Hall psychiatric hospital that operated between 1904 and 1991. You approach the pitch by passing through student halls of residence and proceeding down a lane. Before checking out the pitch I went in search of the old tennis courts (couldn’t find them) and also got a distant view of the clock tower of the main building of the old hospital. The references on the signs on the fence to the guide dogs “not being vegetarian” successfully dissuaded me from further exploration.

The pitch – actually let’s call this a ground  – is an utter delight. If you don’t feel like playing football looking at it then you must have a serious malaise. The playing surface is immaculate (grass routes don’t come much greener) and enclosed by trees which make the ref’s whistle echo. The dug-outs are pristine too even benefiting from guttering. A splendid backdrop is provided by the Emley Moor TV transmitter which I’d previously enjoyed from AFC Emley but the undoubted jewel in this particular crown is the redeveloped and extended, Edwardian cricket pavilion. Inside is a smart café, flat screen TV and small office area with laptop. (The security system for his place must have cost almost as much as the build). There are further tables outside.

 

Steps lead down between eight rows of bench seating (for up to 400) which have been cut into the embankment, an arrangement and the setting that gives the ground a Scandinavian feel like I’d encountered at Gallstads. Floodlights were recently added and excavations have been made for a pair of cantilever stands that will shelter the back four rows of the two outer blocks of seats. The ground –which includes two other pitches – opened in summer 2013 since when Shelley have hosted pre-season friendlies against a Leeds United XI and FC United of Manchester.

What an absolute gem that’s destined to become a groundhopper’s rite of passage. To experience the ground in its full glory I’d recommend waiting until a golden summer’s evening, late autumn when the leaves are turning or perhaps even until Shelley ascend to the Northern Counties East League which with the impetus provided by this sort of set-up can’t be far away. The club’s president and benefactor is entrepreneur, philanthropist and ex-Huddersfield Town chairman Graham Leslie (his son is chairman) who sourced funding from the Football Foundation. Town used to train at Storthes Hall and its ladies side play there.

 

I left at half-time with Shelley one up against Bentley Colliery in the aforementioned cup (they went on to win 3-0) and the game about as one-sided as England v. San Marino last Thursday to head to Horbury Town. The least said about that visit the better. Suffice to say that what I judged from Google Earth to be a football pitch with tow-tiered grandstand was, in fact, a bowling green with small pavilion. Easy mistake to make (see below) although, with hindsight, the squareness of the grass is a giveaway.

 

Furthermore, I hadn’t examined the coutour lines properly and what I thought was a bank that would’ve given an elevated view of the ‘ground’ was actually a downwards slope. And as for the railway lines either side of the ‘ground’ which, I’d imagined, would provide some locos to add to the photographic interest … Well, one line was at the bottom of the aforementioned slope and the other was hidden from view. “D-. Could do better,” is how my old geography would’ve summed me up.

 

Horbury were, indeed, playing my local lads Boroughbridge (in the West Yorkshire League, 6-2) but on a roped off pitch with dugouts about 150 metres away on the far side of a hockey pitch.  Ho, hum. Such are the hazards of step 7 ground hunting.

 

Programme notes: The point of note about the Shelley programme was merely that there was one. The attendance was 30-40. Given that entry is free at this level I was more than happy to part with my pound.

Further reading: For more amazing pitches check out this slideshow from The Guardian.