Friday 26 December 2014

26th December 2014 - West Allotment Celtic

Desperate times called for desperate measures and with the Bay suffering 4 defeats in my last 4 visits - it was time for desperation! The Mother-in-law would have to be called upon with her 'extensive knowledge' of football to put the Bay back on the right path. Hailing from Eston, near Middlesbrough originally, she usually had a good record of encouraging my teams to go 'the extra mile' to get results. Since this was her birthday then maybe her magic would be double the normal strength...anyway it would get her out of the house and stop her nagging me: job's a good'un. So the whole family set off up the hill for the big derby against the Celtic. First off we had to get Christine (the M-I-L) to remember who we were playing. At first it was West Celtic Allotment then Celtic West Allotment and finally she managed to pronounce West Allotment Celtic correctly: this was important for the magic to work. As the others walked around the ground I slipped in the old "Just nipping to the loo" routine and managed to get her birthday read out over the tannoy: a feat we had managed most boxing days at various football grounds and panto performances around the Northeast. The Whitley Bay announcer duly obliged and the magic began to work.
The magic lady with my interloping
 photo bombing children.
I had also managed to get my youngest to a game for the first time since she had retired her vuvuzela. Apparently she was too old and didn't like "wrapping against the cold". 
Long-haired Andrew and Thomas:
loyal WAC and  true non-league fans.
We were joined by our Allotment-supporting pals: Long-Haired Andrew and his son Thomas. True fans of all things Northern League who liked nothing better than heading off to a local non league ground. This was to be part one of a coast double header as they were to follow this game up with a trip to Blyth  v Workington followed by Newcastle Benfield v North Shields the following day. Imaginatively he had been nicknamed Long Haired at the time that all my friends seemed to have been called Andrew. He joined the ranks of such stalwarts as Sensible Andrew and Silly Andrew.
The magic gradually began to work as the Bay made tentative forays into the Celtic penalty area and finally I was able to see Whitley take the lead in a game since the 25th November. Chow produced a sparkling cross for Watling head to in: a great Christmas gift from the visiting defence. There was more to follow as Chow turned provider again as the bald maestro rounded the keeper but found himself too wide for a shot, so he laid another great ball to Robo, who slotted home. We hadn't even started giving him stick yet! Unfortunately a worrying clash of heads saw Chow taken off soon after. A stretcher was brought on, which greatly impressed us as we didn't even realise we had one...even though it was a vintage WW2 piece of merchandise.
The family pose!
Moving spot at half time put us in front of a real Allotment Ultra, who spent the  half coming up with such great phrases such as "Push them out...pull them in..." in the same sentence and telling the players to Clothes...clothes..." a reference to the boxing day sales he was missing. we thought until we realised he was saying "Close...close..." Our mistake! Not even Watling's second goal to put the bay 3-0 up stopped him. He did show us the error of our ways in one respect though. The boy Mark and I had become accustomed to calling the players by their second names...maintaining a bit of formal distance between us fans and our idols on the pitch: eg Chowie, Birdie, Robo etc. None of this for Ultra boy! No it was "Hard to bear, Paul!", "Push up, Mark!" and "Keep working, Liam" He even tried to outdo himself by trying to name as many players in the same sentence....."Clear it Dan...Tony and Mark push up....Liam drive on and cross it....Mark and Michael get a head on it...." As the visitors grew more confident in the game he became more excited advising the strikers to "get it on target" while the midfield either had to "close" or "attack the goal". No way could they have worked all that out for themselves! He lost his sense of fun when ref Lindsey Robinson (who had booked people today, much to our delight and had had a good game) pulled out a red game to send off Bradley Brooking. Ultra man went off it when he realised it was all just Boxing Day banter!
The relieved crew...
My own attempt at football punditry almost jinxed the whole day when I said that we had a good chance of winning. Basic error, there! No sooner had those immortal words left my lips than the score was 3-1 and 3-2. The Boy Mark and Paul T (our friend who had escaped the delights of family life for a couple of hours) began whacking me for my stupidity. However after a nerve-racking final few minutes the ref blew the final whistle. 
A win at last! That would calm the Boy Mark's claim that the Bay only won when I wasn't there and obviously the mother in law's magic had worked again!

Winning: I just can't get enough of it! Cue Depeche Mode!

Sunday 21 December 2014

20 December 2014 - Marske (h)

There were a couple of reasons I was feeling more cheerful. My other love (apart from the Wife, daughters and Whitley of course) Racing Club de Lens had managed to win their final game of 2014 2-0 against Nice on the Friday night, live on BT Sport to leap out of the bottom three in Ligue 1.
The other thing was that I had finally had my hernia operation and if all goes well, in six weeks or so I will be able to get back to playing football, standing at the Bay and generally running around like the other boys and girls.
Tuesday night:Post hernia op and
looking well:
 Whitley 2 Jarrow 1
Lens 2 Nice 0





















The boy Mark couldn't make it because of family duties in Leicester (near Coalville in fact!) so it was up to my kind wife to transport me and the chair to Hillheads. Arriving fashionably late i missed the queues and was pleased to find I hadn't missed any goals. By the time I had set the old chair up and sat down there was barely time for a quick look around the ground to work out the crowd before the first Marske goal went in....after that the rest of the match was a waste of time and not worth mentioning. The only sign of any urgency in the ground from those of a Whitley persuasion was when the legend that is Barry the programme collector and Northern Ventures salesman sprinted past us - it was the most dynamic any of us had ever seen him be and it was quite a shock to see such athleticism. Had he heard there was a rare 1975 Whitley Bay programme on offer for sale in the bar?
The memorable aspect of this game was the contribution of the Marske fans, who were annoying but witty. When the first goal went in they began their own rendition of Spandau Ballet's Gold...
At least I could put my feet up!
"You're indestructable, always believing...Because you are, gold...."  They then followed that up with a "Let's all do the Poznan." It was unusual to be joined by so many vociferous away fans in the new stand and all ten of them made a great deal of noise under the tin roof.
The second and third goals were followed by "I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky..." a cover of Bianca Ryan's hit (I have no idea if this is true - just googled it so apologies if you know better). The ref fell over and they sang "Sit down if you love the Marske..." as well as many chants of "Tee...Tee..Tee siders" which at times could have been "Cheese...Cheese..Cheese siders..." which have been better suited to French fans, I thought.
I don't see it myself.....
In the second half I was able to get a better view of them (all ten) as I moved my chair to see all the Whitley second half attacks. Although Whitley managed to put a few passes together and even hit the crossbar...it was still dire stuff.
At the risk of being called a jinx, my last four games had seen four defeats and the only game I had missed was the victory over Jarrow Roofing. The boy Mark had told me that I should not go any more but I have a feeling it would take more than that. A bit of time spent passing to each other would probably be a help to the Bay players and some work on trying to stop other teams scoring against them, rather than me boycotting matches.
The fourth goal was signalled by the hymn "Give me oil in my lamp..." "Twenty seven, twenty seven, keep on scoring, ....Jamie Owens, Jamie Owens keep on scoring in the old Marske way..."
After that their attention turned towards poor old Chowie (younger than me, I will just add) who they thought bore a similarity to Voldemort in Harry Potter. Where they got that from I have no idea but they did (dare I say Teeside and chemicals...?) and continued with "He's coming for you, he's coming for you, Harry Potter, he's coming for you!"
The final attack on the hapless striker was their version of "There's no limits..."
"No, no, no, no, no, no.......he's got no hair...."
By the time the seventh goal dropped over the line most of the Bay fans had had enough. There was shock amongst the nearly 300 crowd. The performance had been dire and the managerless Bay needed something to happen. Prior to the Dunston FA Vase game we had won four games on the trot so what had gone so obviously wrong? The best supported team in the league is being treated to the worst football and something drastic needs to be done.
As the terraces emptied the ten visitors sang "Is there a fire drill...?" yet  Whitley's performance would have put out any fire. Trying to rub it in that they had beaten us in the League Cup the previous May at St James' Park, one of them was asked how many times  they had won the Vase at Wembley? He didn't seem to understand but it was becoming a sad fact of being a Whitley fan. We were no longer the team we were: like Newcastle fans having to look back to 1969 for the last major honour they had won.
My solution is to bring my Mother-in-Law and family to the boxing day derby game against West Allotment....if she doesn't frighten them, I don't know what will: they better shape up!
At least I am getting some fresh air!
Whitley beware: my Mother in law is coming and it is her birthday so you better win!
She may look harmless.....

Sunday 14 December 2014

December 2014 - Newcastle Benfield (a)

Leon Ryan had left, we were out of the FA Vase and been drubbed by local rivals: North Shields. This week surely couldn't get worse for Whitley Bay fans: could it? Another local team up the Coast Road hopefully wouldn't provide as stern a test as Tuesday night's opponents ...would they?
Warming up with the  unlucky 13?
Smiles to keep our spirits up.
It was down to Steve Foster to hold the fort so when we arrived there he was, barking the instructions to the ...1...2...3...4...5....13 players. Were things so bad at the club that we could only manage 13 players? And none of them were a goalkeeper...unless you counted Paul Chow in his bobble hat. There was a goalkeeper but it wasn't Gladstone, who had single handedly (almost) kept Shields at bay. In his place was the unknown Dobson...We wondered whether we had seen him at Hillheads during half times kicking the ball around with subs so the jury was out whether he would stand up to the Benfield attack. Thankfully more Whitley players appeared to take up the extra places on the bench. Also taking his seat next to the boy Mark and I was Bay physio Glen Martin, obviously wanting to pick our brains about the happenings at Hillheads and the way forward. Shame for him that he picked us because we really didn't have a clue beyond score more goals than the opposition and wear odd shoes!
Unfortunately, just seven minutes into the game there were worries about the new keeper as Benfield took the lead in what looked like far too easy circumstances. We didn't have to wait long for the equaliser as Watling headed in Kempster's pinpoint cross. Not bad: 11 minutes in and already a goal each. Surely we would go on to get the next goal? Once again we were to be disappointed as the home team took the lead again.
"I hate going behind!" Mark roared in frustration...the smiles long since gone. Our new friend Glen wasn't impressed either as it had been another soft goal. The game took another twist just on the 20 minute mark when Robbie Birdie Bird scored to make it 2-2 and provide us with 4 goals in 20 minutes play. Surely now the Bay would be able to settle and play their football...? No.
On the half hour, Benfield made it 3-2 and unfortunately our new boy between the posts wasn't having a good afternoon. Virtually three shots had ended in three goals. When we asked where the hero of Tuesday's second half was...we were told he was being rested. Couldn't he come back in for the second half?
Arrogantly we were expecting Whitley to bounce straight back but Benfield hadn't read our script and scored again. The only thing to do was to shake our heads in disbelief. This was not a good week!
We were delighted just before half time, when another of the coaching staff, Dave Beardie Berry, (who had also been called into action) scored Whitley's third.

Fossie's first half in action:
Commanding Foster....

Demonstrative Foster....
Disbelieving Foster.

Normally the Boy Mark and I watch the Bay away from the respective benches but with the old hernia still causing me problems we had decided to sit on the furthest of the two stands which gave us a whole new viewpoint of the match. As well as the great views of Fossie and his crew we also had a great view of the home team manager's rantings as they were reduced to ten men after having a player sent off. His face exploded and turned the brightest shade of red as he bawled at the ref. "What the @#%£ was that for?" he screamed, ignoring the answer, and the fact, that their player had told the ref to "@#%£ off". Not a clever move.
The ranting 
Surely now Whitley would surge back in the remaining 38 minutes...the answer would be a disappointing "No." The Bay maintained possession but struggled to get accurate balls into the box.

Still 4-3 down and time is running out!


When they did manage some accuracy and speed in the attacks, their keeper hadn't been reading the same goalkeeping manual as ours and came up with a number of great saves to give the home team the win 4-3.
What a week!
The long drive home begins....at least 10 minutes
....maybe even 15 before a nice cup of tea!


Wednesday 10 December 2014

You'll be missed: good luck to you and your family!

Dec 2014 North Shields (h)




Right from the start you knew it was not an ordinary game as we were shocked to find a queue to get in. Not just a queue but an along past the Seahorse nearly to the newsagents on Hillheads Road -type queue. What was this all about? Standing clutching our season tickets in our grubby hands we were indignant: this was unfamiliar territory. The season ticket holder in front of us told me to make sure "You put it in your blog.." The voice of the people! Surely we should be ushered in via our own special golden gate as the stalwarts of the club's support...just a suggestion.
Fans here...
Fans there...
...fans every ........ing where!

 There was chanting...mostly for North Shields...in fact all for Shields. The excitement of youth? The previous Saturday Bob had heard a rumour that there would be bother at the game with hoards coming down 'from Newcastle' but there was no hint of trouble. The previous Saturday when I had looked around the crowd at the Vase game I was met by the sight of young kids, middle aged men (and women) and the elderly. Hardly the type of fans that would put up a good fight for the hoards  who were "up for aggro". As it was, apart from Bob not wearing his scarf and the fact that there was a big crowd, it was the usual midweek fare. The area behind the Shields goal was packed (and the parts of the ground that allowed easy access to the bar)...the rest wasn't. No problem setting up the chair and plenty of the normal space we are privileged to enjoy.
Embedded image permalinkThe talk before the game was of the formation: three at the back and MacDonald and McFarland on the flanks to bomb forward like wingers...well that was the theory. In practice it didn't work. the defensive three had no answer to the marauding Shields wingers. Although Whitley started positively and had the visitors on the back foot it was the sucker punch volley from Richardson that knocked the wind out of Whitley. After that old Whitley boy Denver Morris ran his socks off in a manner he only achieved in spells for the Bay. It was his super strike that put Shields 2-0 up and Saturday's match returned to haunt the Whitley fans. What we didn't expect was the third (offside) and fourth goals: all cracking strikes that had Bob purring: "They are entertaining to watch..." This fell on deaf ears however: we just weren't in the mood and as the team trooped off at half time Moira told them to "hang their heads in shame".
The Shields hoards.....?
To add to our misery during the first half we had had to put up with the Shields hoards in full voice singing such classics as "Is this the lib-ra-ry?" and various songs about Wemb-er-ley. Although I had to take issue with the song "What's it like to see a crowd?" With only two home league attendances less than 300, I would doubt that our visitors (and most if not all Northern League teams) could compete with Whitley's crowds. Okay so we aren't the most vociferous fans in the league but we are the loyalest: something previous performances had demonstrated. So the cry of "Can we play you every week?" didn't really apply since they wouldn't be there anyway: glory boys that most of them were.
Hallucinogenic effects?
The half time decision not to experiment with the hallucinogenic properties of the mushrooms growing on the advertising hoardings seemed to be wise and in the second half we were pleased to see that Leon had taken himself off and gone for a flat back four with our preferred choice of McDonald and McFarland (the two Macs) on the flanks. It was no coincidence that the team looked more solid and what could have been an 8-0 drubbing turned into a bit of a restoration in Whitley pride.
It was noticeable that just after half time a section of the Shields Horde set off behind the opposite goal expecting more action there but this time Gladstone came up trumps with some fine saves in what could have been his most commanding half to date. From then on the Shields encouragement came from behind Gladstone's goal while the other end wouldn't even join in with "Shields, Shields, what's the score?" Were they the hordes from the Toon?
Not happy!
There was better to come for us as Birdie finally got into the game. He and Kempster got more joy on the pitch. Although at times the Whitley players seemed reluctant to pass the ball wide (didn't want to tire Alex out) when the did Alex produced some great runs all over the difficult pitch. The main thing was we were actually getting crosses and balls into the box. As a result Robbie the Birdiemeister knocked in a couple to give the score respectability. The final score of 4-2 wasn't as humiliating as it could have been but something needs to be done to the shape of the team as the two halves were complete contrasts.
As the marvellous Maximo Park sing: "What happens when you lose everything? You start all over again....Apply some pressure!" Out of the Vase, marooned in the middle of the league, we need to rebuild, the second half display is a good place to start!


Sunday 7 December 2014

December 2014 Dunston (H) FA Vase 3rd round


December 20014 

Dunston (h) FA Vase 3rd round


Reading the papers:
Saturday morning
It had been a strange feeling watching Jarrett Rivers score the winner for Blyth against Hartlepool the previous night in the FA Cup. Having watched him do the same for the Bay the previous year and hoping somehow that Bob's prediction about him "not staying long with us" didn't come true. On one hand there was the pride that I had actually witnessed him playing for us and here he was on live television. On the other there was the selfish Whitley Bay fan anticipating today's FA Vase cup tie. The FA Cup was all very well but for me it was the Vase that counted. Having never seen the Bay reach further than 2nd qualifying round there wasn't the thought that maybe we could actually win it. Yes we could have a great day out and maybe cause a shock like in 1989-90 when they reached the 3rd round, beating Preston and Scarbrough but winning at Wembley is precious memory and one I wanted to experience again.
The FA Vase is a competition for the minnows and as such is our chance to shine. Last season's run was disappointing in that we lost in the third round - again to Dunston. Maybe we had come to expect too much after those three Wembley wins but it was hard to keep your feet on the ground after those giddy days. How many supporters could claim to have won the ultimate prize in their calendar three times in a row? Having only begun watching the Bay the season of the first success in 2009, I had not seen them win the Northern League in 1991, however for me a cup final at Wembley would outweigh any league success - no matter how much harder it may have been to achieve. The last few years the Bay hadn't lived up to the heights of 2009-2011. A 2-1 5th round defeat in sad circumstances to West Auckland in 2012 will be remembered for a terrible tackle that threatened to end a young player's career while a shock away defeat to Brantham Athletic the following season in the 4th round ended our hopes in 2013. That was followed by last season's 3rd round defeat to Dunston. A match that had ended a a great run of six wins on the trot for the Bay and also featured the return of Bay favourite Chris Moore to the team. From a Bay perspective there had been nothing left to shout about and the let-down of the season. (Conveniently forgetting a disastrous trip to St James Park for a League Cup final defeat to Marske). Today I had convinced myself was payback time! I was up for it...were the players?
The crowd of just over 400 was slightly disappointing considering the match's billing as the tie of the round but then we were up against some other game being played in the big toon.
The first thing that became obvious was that the players hadn't put on the right boots - preferring plimsolls to actual boots as the majority of Whitley players seemed to be slipping over whenever they set off with the ball. Dunston had worn their extra long studs because they didn't seem to have any problems at all. A workmanlike performance from the visitors seemed to be causing Whitley no end of problems as the players toiled without much of an end result. The one exception proved to be Brad Brooking who looked dangerous whenever he got the ball but then made the mistake of passing it to another Whitley player who would then slip or lose control. The obvious thing would be to blame the pitch...which we did. Because the pitch looked heavy the ball spent most of its time in the air and as the wise sages from 90s punk band The Sultans of Ping once said in honour of Nottingham Forest legend Nigel Clough:
"If God meant game to be played up there
He would've put goal posts in the air
If God meant game to be played up high
He would've built pitches in the sky."


What we needed was a Nigel Clough and our Nigel Clough was Paul Robinson, however he didn't come up with the goods having not played in the previous three games due to a three match ban.
The worried hands of fate!
By half time we were 2-0 down and after a quick move of my chair to the opposite side of the New Stand we discussed the failings of the team. The change of Kempster for Godsmark seemed to boost things up a bit and the appearance of the old war horse Chow had some effect as he managed to get a head to a few of the long balls but far too often the midfield didn't move up with the attack so the big gap in the middle of the field became the reserve of the Dunston team.
We were resigned to defeat and then Watling raced into the box and the slow motion ref (who seemed to take his time to blow his whistle all afternoon) awarded us a penalty...were the hands of fate turning?
Chow stepped up and blasted it high into the left hand corner of the net. Could the comeback kings do it again? Unfortunately the answer was no. The final five minutes seemed to be spent with Dunston taking a liking to the corner of the pitch in the Whitley end and that was that. The end of our dream for another year!
The unhappy wander to the car...all passing in a blur!
There was worse to follow for the Boy Mark who, after we listened to 5Live and the Toon's 2-1 win over unbeaten Chelsea...
we were informed that his beloved Blackburn Rovers 1 - Sheffield Wednesday 2....It was all too much! There was nothing left to do but....


...we faced defeat like men...not!

Wednesday 26 November 2014

25.11.14 Benfield (H)

There was a sense of optimism when The Boy Mark picked me and the chair up for the midweek encounter. Whitley had surprised everybody by coming from behind to beat Alnwick Town in the Northumberland Senior Cup 6-4. They then followed this up with an away win in the cherished FA Vase at Congleton Town - 1-0.
Unfortunately the win had come at a cost in terms of injuries and the count of first team players injured now stood at nine so the youngsters would have to be thrown in. 
Once we had shuffled over to our usual spot there was a surprise as we were joined by our standing chums: Bob, Moira and Paul.
Don't mess!
Bob and Moira were friends of Paul's dad: David, who unfortunately died last year but was a regular at the Bay games. We would always chat and joke our way through the games. More often than not we would miss crucial moments because of wide ranging conversations from tree cutting, passing bird formations to football. Bob and Moira both have a passion for non league football, and have had for years, and despite living in Whitley often go to watch North Shields, not something I approved of, which kept the non-league football debates lively. Moira's loyalty often slips when Whitley are struggling and will take such opportunities to announce, (on a too regular basis) that she would be transferring her allegiances if there wasn't an improvement: a great stirrer, not just during her career as a dinner lady. Now retired she regularly tells us about her adventures with a free bus pass and how much she enjoys retired life and freedom: particularly galling during midweek matches when work beckons the next day. 
Big crowd tonight!
Paul is the Bay Stato!
Paul on the other hand is our Stato. Regularly quoting matchday programme facts and internet research about both Whitley and non-league football. It took me a while to work out where he got the obscure match facts from until I read each and every one of them at home in the programme. His ability to memorise so many facts in a short space of time is certainly impressive and often enlivens dull matches.
 Unfortunately, the rest of Whitley had not shared our enthusiasm for tonight's action as a smaller than usual number of souls braved the dark and cold to come to Hillheads. The draw of Manchester City against Bayern Munich on the TV proving too much. As it was 195 was better than a lot of the attendances around the Northern League.

The referee tonight was one Rebecca Welch from Washinigton (according to the programme's teamsheet). It was always good to see a female referee  but from the outset it was obvious that the visitors didn't share my enthusiasm as they swore at most of her decisions and took every opportunity to challenge her authority. Trying to let the game flow and avoid sending anyone off she preferred to talk to them in an authoritative voice. As the game wore on the barracking went on and Moira questioned whether a male referee would have put up with it: especially when one decision was met by a Benfield player screaming:
Tightest shorts of the season?
 "@%$£ off linesman.." across the pitch
An older head, whether male or female, might well have taken action at that point, I replied. Having said that the match didn't get out of control and did flow so she got that right.
The other major talking point was the state of the Whitley Bay kit which seems to have been worn ever since the first Wembley Vase appearance in 2009. Young Ryan Kielte must have been last into the dressing room as he had to wear the tightest shorts of the season. Despite this inconvenience he managed to turn in a commanding performance on what we thought was his debut and was roundly cheered by Moira whenever he drove forward - which wasn't often. Despite Ryan's best efforts, it was Benfield who took the lead and although Whitley huffed and puffed at the Newcastle door, they couldn't blow it in. Favourite Chow was clearly struggling ("He's injured..." Bob told us every few minutes) yet as always happened when we started questioning the Chow's inclusion he popped up with a cracking goal to silence his critics, ie us.
The second half saw a flying (literally) tackle  from Whitley end in a converted penalty and just when Whitley looked like they were going to equalise, disaster struck as the third visiting goal dropped in.
Paul added his own statistic, gleaned from the programme earlier, as he shouted:
The Boy Mark cautiously celebrates
the second Whitley goal.
"Come on Whitley, Benfield haven't won away all season, you can't let them beat you." Obviously I hadn't studied the programme enough as this fact had eluded me: no dedication!
This, and the arrival of youngster Tom Potter for Chow and not so young Steve Foster  had galvanised the team... they woke up and battered Benfield. It all seemed too little too late though as the clock ticked away. Watling's hard work was rewarded with a goal but there still didn't seem much hope. There was a delay in play caused by one of the Benfield defender's kicking the ball off the pitch because "...it was £$%&!".  Again there was no booking as the same ball was returned to be played with. However, that ball didn't last long as at the next opportunity the same defender booted it over the stand to avoid playing with it. 
Wild, celebrating fans!
This seemed to do the trick for Whitley as the next ball found its way into the Benfield net via Godsmark. I would have been delighted with a draw but there was more to come as the angry Benfield players lost all control: this time Watling scoring. 
When your team has come back from the dead to lead, you always want one of two things: either for the final whistle to blow or to score another to make it safe. We got our preferred wish. With the goalkeeper stranded in the Bay penalty area the ball was launched forward. The chase was on between Whitley forward (rumoured to be Robbie Bird although my eyes weren't that good because of the tears of joy that had filled them) and the Benfield keeper. Unfortunately for the racing keeper, a Benfield defender came to help out and cleared it straight onto the knee of his team mate. The ball fell kindly for Whitley as Robbie ended up running through on goal before scoring past both defender and keeper. I even stood up to clap...and quickly wished I hadn't. Happy days! 




Saturday 15 November 2014

Whitley Bay v Shildon November 15th


Shildon (h) 15th November 2014

Having missed the previous week's draw away to Ashington (a 1-1 draw snatched by the Colliers in added time as well as a Robinson sending off) I was expecting great things from the Bay today. However for my first home game since herniagate, me and the Boy Mark would be joined by my faithful folding chair so that I could watch the game from my usual vantage spot in the newish stand rather than sitting in the cramped main seated stand with its pillar-obscured view.
Despite the lack of Premiership and Championship football, because of the international matches, there didn't seem to be that many fans in the ground so I was able to set up camp near my usual spot.
There was only time for a quick scan of the teamsheet before the game kicked off and the first time I looked up the ball rolled into Whitley's net.
Strangely dancing linesman....
"This is going to be a long afternoon." promised the bloke in the flat cap next to us and indeed it was. Shildon ran the show but on the occasions that they managed to get possession, Whitley showed glimpses of good play and came close on a couple of occasions. The referee bottled a potential sending off after one of the visitors kicked out at Robo, an incident that was spotted by the linesman but still went unpunished. Disaster struck next as the referee's watch stopped and once again I looked up from checking the time to see Shildon celebrating their second goal. The second the game was restarted by Whitley the half time whistle was blown...strange timing that.

A hobble around to our usual second half spot meant I could lean on the barrier. Maybe there would be a change of luck yet there would be no difference as Whitley struggled to make any meaningful efforts: ex-Whitley keeper Kyle Hayes, in the Shildon goal, becoming a virtual spectator for long periods of the game. The Bellend Choir behind his goal watched silently, deprived of even the occasional tingle of its famous bell: sadly missing today.
Unfortunately for the Boy Mark and I, our afternoon was made even more unbearable as the Shildon fans behind us got louder and more excited: well actually only one of them did: a young woman (younger than me anyway). She gave us enlightened inputs on a constant loop:
"Turn him...man on yer back....don't let him... (he didn't)...go to him...get rid..."
She then added her own variations on the players' names and this reached a peak when Lee Chapman (not the Lee Chapman) was introduced to the field of play "come on Chapper...Chaps....Chappsie..." This got worse when the third Shildon goal sped past Gladstone in the Whitley goal and her cries were joined by another visiting fan in the main stand who constantly cried out in a long and drawn out manner: "C'mon on Shildon".
....and a thundering headache.
I once again failed to spot their fourth and fifth goals going in and it was a subdued crowd that left Hillheads.
Tears on the way home.
With Robinson suspended for the following week's FA Vase the chances of our season's excitement ending in the next week looked a distinct possibility. The boy Mark even mentioned the R word: surely we weren't that bad were we?
The prospect of watching the England v Slovenia match improved my mood slightly...until it started and then it became re-run of Whitley's performance and the fact that Strictly Come Dancing would follow after it made matters worse.
Would things have been better if I had worn odd shoes again? Or if Mark hadn't forgotten his hat? Who knows? The responsibilities of a football fan were all too apparent!