VCD Athletic 3-3 Tunbridge Wells

As I’m sure we’re all aware, the FA Vase is drawn regionally up until this round so this is the last game before they go national. In events elsewhere that rather ominous FA Vase munching machine, Whitley Bay, strolled into the 4th round with a 5-1 humping of another former winner Bridlington Town.

Both of those teams are in about the same position in different leagues at level 9 in the pyramid. Bay 5th in the Northern League, Bridlington 4th in the Northern Counties East League. Why am I babbling on about two Northern sides in a report about a Kent league Vase derby?

Well, aside from looking to emulate the previous winners, the Kent League duo are also at level 9 in the pyramid; like Brid, VCD are 4th while, like Bay, Tunbridge Wells are 5th. These two teams should have no fear about going far in this tournament and, on the evidence of this game, either side has the individuals to do it but, as a group, not sure either has the temperament to actually go all the way. We’ll see.

VCD were born of the old Vickers (V) works team in Crayford (C), on the Kent/South East London borders. The (D) stands for, seems to be Dartford.  A more anodyne little ‘burb you’d struggle to find. With its selection of bland, unappealing and uninviting pubs you could be forgiven for getting to Crayford and then immediately leaving. It would be foolish though, for the Oakwood sports ground is rather grand.

From opening turnstile you get a vista of  a sloping runway down to pitch level. We’ve noted the aspect on The Ball Is Round and Tales From The Pigeon Stands before and both of them seem to have visited on much more pleasant days. Those two venerable sites have documented the whys and wherefores of a trip to VCD so while you click the links (not now, later!) we’ll concentrate on the day.

Today was bitter, Bovril was taken prior to kick off, which is a first for this season. Next to the turnstiles is a little building that tea bar manager Maxine told us would soon be a club shop (excellent, non league club shops rule) and next to that is the VCD committee room. It takes it’s place above the pitch looking imperiously down upon the action below.

For the first 20 mins or so the dignitaries watched over some engaging play from both sides until a shambles in the tightest defence in the Kent League (just 8 goals conceded thus far) gifted Cornell the ball about 6 yards out and he tucked it past the keeper – VCD 0-1 Tunbridge Wells.

It wasn’t that long until VCD were level, the goal was deserved but controversial when it arrived. Seconds earlier the VCD no.9 Aiden Pursglove, a rather annoyingly waspish Paul Dickov of a striker, had held the ball up well at the corner flag but lost it thanks to an obvious twinge in his hamstring. He stood there rubbing it while the ball was cleared, except it wasn’t cleared very well and came right back towards him. The defence stood statuesque waiting for him to be whistled for offside, he wasn’t taking part in play and was still oohing and ahhing like Kajagoogoo (look it up, youngsters) while the lino steadfastly, and correctly to the letter of the convoluted law, failed to flag. The overlapping Wheeler was not offside and his pin-point cross was headed home by Scotter.

Letter of the law or not, twas a bit of a tricky call for the lino because, although Pursglove was clearly not active, the ball was just a few feet from him when crossed. The Wells defence didn’t play to the whistle but, on top of that, they outnumbered the forwards in the box by at least 3 to one so how they failed to get to the ball first is beyond me.

In mitigation, they may have been lulled into a false sense of security by a linesman’s error just a couple of minutes earlier. A ball was lobbed forward and Pursglove had nipped past the last man as the ball was played, only to be flagged offside when he received it. It wasn’t offside when the ball was played, I and the ten or so other people standing serendipitously parallel with the lino and the last line of defence quite clearly saw Pursglove was onside when the ball was played. Pursglove isn’t that fast, for a start, the lino was ball watching – and we’re usually so very pro linos.

What? What? Nooooo? You’re shittin’ me, it is! An ice cream van sailed past the chilly ground, full jingle blasting. I tweeted. Dangermousebot came to the rescue. I was distracted back to the game by a roar of “DON’T BE TOO PRETTY” from one of the benches. I assumed it was VCD as they had possession, although they may have been talking about Darryl Hannah [later].

Just a few minutes before half time and it was 2-1 to the home side, Pursglove turning his man, taking a touch and lashing into the roof of the net, his mysteriously healed hamstring not restricting him at all.

Half time, more Bovril. Brrrr.  For those who follow our tweets you may have noticed mention of chazzundave. Pre-match it appeared to be Chas & Dave Live, at half time my hands were too cold to care. I nearly spat out my hand-warming Bovril when I saw Darryl Hannah in the match programme looking like a terrible genetic experiment with a fish had gone horribly wrong. Hang on, no, not the mermaid thing, that Bride of Wildenstein thing.

Up to now the game had been pretty good without really kicking on and after just a few minutes of the second half it looked to have gone horribly wrong for Tunbridge as they shipped a third. But, with an hour gone, Tunbridge got one back and the game got all proper Cup match.

VCD had looked in control but the goal gave them the proverbial jitters and after a period of classic end to end shenanigans, xxxx pulled back a Wells forward who was through on goal and got his marching orders. Cue ten minutes of kitchen sink and Tunbridge equalised. I then spent the rest of the game wondering why Tunbridge hadn’t turned the screw and how VCD managed to compose themselves and get back in to the game.

What I’d failed to notice was a shove and second yellow for brace-scorer Cornell. Durrrr. My excuse was I was watching the Tunbridge fans. I was standing beside one of the goals and the Wells fans were mostly on the turnstile-side but there were half a dozen or so on the other side and they started singing “Tunbridge, give us a wave” to each other across the pitch.

Mission: Generate an atmosphere in a crowd of about 80. Mission Accomplished. Briefly.

My frozen fingers were praying for a winner but it failed to materialise. Extra time was 30 minutes of endeavour, more end to end action, chances for both sides, but, although both were trying to win it, they were tired, weren’t over committing so chances were of the half variety. A post may have been hit, some onion bag minder’s palms were warmed and some time was wasted, most notably by the home keeper who then wasted some more yapping to away fans when they called him on it.

Actually, an amusing afternoon and some good play. No idea who will win the replay, if I had to have a bet, probably Tunbridge now.

This is so late I can tell you the replay score was 2-0 to Wells.

Seaford Town 1 – 2 Tunbridge Wells.

As I walked into the clubhouse two men were complaining about the Police’s lack of interest in strangers knocking on their doors. This was proper ‘Disgusted of Tunbridge’ stuff and I was all ears. Except it was Seaford fans complaining about cold-calling which went to a vote this week and could mean the end of Christmas Carols, trick-or-treaters, rotary club charity collections – but not Jehovah’s Witnesses! This was proper Victor Meldrew stuff.

The last time I visited Seaford Town was six years ago when they were up against more grumpy neighbours complaining that if the club got permission for floodlights it would bring crowd trouble! Their first application was refused by Lewes Council because the lights would be ‘detrimental to local residential amenities.’ Ignoring the fact that football clubs are invaluable community amenities.

Eventually the moaning gits were ignored and not only floodlights but a new seated stand was built meaning entry to the FA Vase and, hopefully, soon the FA Cup. They only need standing cover for 22 more people and they would be eligible for promotion to the Sussex County League Division One.

So, having only competed in the FA Vase twice before, this first round tie was the furthest the club has ever got and the local paper billed it as their biggest game so far this season.

Their visitors Tunbridge Wells play a league higher in the Kent Premier League and have a healthy average attendance of 129 something as Seaford’s programme notes pointed out said ‘they can only dream of.’

Seaford is a pleasant little town in between Brighton and Eastbourne, nestling at the foot of the South Downs where they head out to the sea under the English Channel on their way to France. As their website explained “The club is over a hundred years old, and because it never had the benefit of wealthy patrons in the early years, the club remains typical of local football: keen players, enthusiastic supporters, dedicated officials and just as many crises as any Premier League club. Ours don’t make national headlines, we don’t go spectacularly bankrupt or have to call in foreign billionaires to rescue us, and we continue to play on much as earlier generations have done.”

However, the club definitely has the feel of one on the up. OK so crowds might average around 50 but with football clubs for the under nines upwards, over 250 people play under the Seaford Town banner. They have a healthy number of people helping out, and although today’s crowd was given as 98 it seemed a lot more, with no doubt plenty of non paying players, wives, officials and four keen ball-girls. And with a 23,000 residents they surely have a large enough pool to pull in more punters.

As for the match; well for starters it was nice to actually enjoy a game as a neutral rather than one watching with hands through eyes. I was impressed with the quality of football and although Tunbridge seemed more skillful going forward the teams evened each other out even until Tunbridge’s Drew Crush struck in the 35 minutes.

But Seaford’s pressure finally paid off with Tom Morton scoring a wonder goal on the stroke of half time. Picking up the ball 30-yards out, he found the keeper off his line and picked his spot with great accuracy to level up the scores. In the second half Tunbridge started to assert themselves and, on the 78th minute, defender Andy Boyle headed the Wells winner. Seaford had a few more chances but the Tunbridge keeper was commanding his goal and it was not to be as the Kent team celebrated their 125th birthday with a win.

Still, on that performance Seaford Town should be challenging for promotion to the first division this season.  I’m sure the ‘disgusted of’ types will be shaking in their Seaford-seaside-bungalow-boots at the very thought.

Words: Warren Carter, from the Slough Town Soapbox, also known as @BrightonRebel.
Photos: The mysteriously titled ‘Andy The Photographer’. See more of Andy’s work at flikr and contact him on Twitter @andythephoto

FA Vase Final – Sunday 8th may 2011 – Coalville Town .v. Whitley Bay

In some ways, the FA Vase is the real FA Cup, the still beating heart of the damaged football pyramid. When the FA Cup started, communities were, obviously, more localised than now, they were the sporting equivalent of a royal street party. Those living within a holler of the ground would come together on big occasions and have a bit of a sing song and support their town’s own folk. The final of the Vase was played last Sunday, the show-piece of lower league football. People went to Wembley and they saw a little bit of football history at the ‘home’ of English football. Two communities, spurring on their own town in competition against but also in unison with each other, as part of a football community.

Meanwhile, some fans, fans of much bigger clubs, sat in front of their computers, miles from Wembley, high on insularity, childish tartrazine-fuelled fury, overflowing with bitterness, antagonistic to fellow fans. They were confused and angry that people with even a big connection to a smaller local community could feel pride and joy in a team other than their every-day team, especially one considerably further down the football pyramid. And they simply couldn’t stop themselves spitting bile at the many thousands of fans of THEIR teams who were just going for a day out at Wembley to include themselves in the narrative of another team, with which they actually shared an intrinsic link that pre-dates their link to the bigger club.

These football Meldrews simply cannot enjoy a footballing moment that does not include their team, they have no truck with the footballing pleasure of others, even peers and colleagues who they otherwise call ‘friends’. You have to wonder if these people even enjoy the game of football? Their football support is conditional, they appear not to even understand what they are part of, that football is not simply a vacuum in which their one club exists.

It is quite sad that such people cannot celebrate football for what it is, a game.

We were there as one of the derided onlookers, one of us with absolutely no connection to either side. Another, me, with a short ten year association with the town but a mere three as borderline fan. One of our cohorts for the day, Andy, suggested I was not a fan, just that I had a soft spot for them, which is true but I think it would edge beyond if I lived there. If Whitley played Ipswich, I’d want to see an entertaining Horses victory but not a disrespectful one. Maybe 3-1. If it was Whitley Bay .v. Dulwich Hamlet, I’d want any form of away win. But against any other side I’d be wanting Bay flying at them, chowing down on defences and kerrling balls into the top corner.

Andy’s right though, it’s not quite there yet, it’s definitely a soft spot because there is still sufficient detachment that allows me to stand by and capture the atmosphere and the moments of excitement for others while they celebrate. And that atmosphere was different to last year. All confident, rowdy and ebullient last May to face the clear underdogs, Wroxham, the atmosphere on Sunday among they Bay fans was the meditative calm of experience tinged with a slight wariness of dangerous opposition. The frisson of tension rendered the notoriously boisterous Bell End Choir strangely mute, although not fearful.

It turns out they’d gauged the opposition as well as pundits had. Both hypothetically and, it turned out, in reality Coalville were more than a match for Bay. If you’d asked anyone in the ground after 25 minutes what the final score might be I’m fairly sure everyone would have said ‘Coalville’ by two or three to nil. But Ian Chandler’s boys are a resilient lot. Take last year’s semi final against Barwell. 3-1 down after 88 minutes of the first leg and staring an uphill task in the face, they scored twice to head to the home leg in ruud health. And against Poole in this year’s semi final first leg, 1-0 down heading into injury time they somehow finished the game as 2-1 winners. Never. Ever, think you’ve got Bay beat. You haven’t.

The Whitley Choir had been subdued with the kind of inspirational dynamism from Coalville that really gets fans blood pumping. They played a high tempo game that energised their fans. But MacFarlane’s purposeful burst past the full back and inch perfect cross into the six yard box gave Chow one of the easiest finishes he’ll have had in the Vase. 1-0 to Whitley and the noise switched briefly from right to left. Not for long though. The Coalville fans were genuinely very happy to be there and I do not mean that with even the slightest hint of condescension. It may even now be cliché to say that in the foundation of every cliche lies the concrete of truth. But the power of a first (or rare) outing to the national stadium in a cup final cannot be underestimated. Coalville were debuting and their team’s doubling of effort quickly stirred the crowd back into action.

Whitley somehow held out until half time and beyond. It was an hour before the inevitable Matt Moore equalising goal arrived and things looked distinctly dodgy for the Bay. While they looked very dangerous on the break and likely to score, they too often found themselves penned back. We should have known that the very next example of the former would see a curling, inviting cross from last week’s realfacup interviewee, Paul Robinson, and Kerr executing one of the most textbook headed goals you’re ever likely to see.

For the next 20 minutes Coalville’s siege to the Whitley goal was broken several times by a Bay break and Burke made two great saves, one of which the 38 year old tipped over the bar with agility that brought applause from much younger, suppler human beings. In between, Coalville hit the woodwork but no end of quality wing play and crossing seemed able to get past Burke in Whitley’s goal.

When Anthony Carney, Coalville’s most dangerous player, crossed to the penalty spot and Matt Goodby leapt to meet it, the crowd expected another Burke save but this header left him no chance and The Ravens were level again. 2-2. Consensus was sure there would only be one winner now but whatever Bay lacked in possession, they did not lack in resilience, potency or fortune. Kerr swept a 20 yard freekick over the wall, it hit something, bounced down, hit something else and went in. It turned out to be Chow, who emerged from a crowd of players in classic ‘wheeling away’ fashion and Whitley were up 3-2 with 5 minutes left. Could they hold on? It seemed possible this time, Coalville were adept at building pressure over time but they didn’t have much of it left this time.

We had some classic keeper-in-the-opposition-box action but it was to no avail. Whitley were victorious again, this time they were record breakers, Chow was a record breaker, Chandler was a record breaker and Burke & Chow were heroic. In fact Burke was the hero, he was the man-of-the-match, Les Sealey-esque in his recall the previous week. That has to go down as a managerial masterstroke. For me, Coalville’s Carney was close to MoM, he looks a terrific prospect, his ability to find a yard of room for a cross and then providing a good one was a stand-out, although Robinson’s cross for Kerr’s goal was the pick of the day’s many.

Coalville could, and perhaps should, have won the game, their manager said as much, Bay’s went as far as to say a draw at 90 would have been fair. The Ravens fans were very impressive, I can’t imagine what simile Stuart Hall might have come up with. They will rue missed chances less than cursing a keeper in form but will regret defensive lapses when up against a quite accomplished twin pronged Jarrow finishing machine. Although disappointed, the fans were out in force afterwards. Hands were shaken, memories shared.

Glory hunting is looked down upon, rightly so when it results in regular fans missing out on access to big occasions, but when there are plenty of tickets to go round, the small profits go to the clubs involved, the teams benefit from a rare big-game-big-crowd experience, where’s the harm? What’s not to like about this game? Why would anyone who hasn’t joined in get so worked up about other people enjoying the fortune and happiness of another club? What possible purpose does it serve? What does it prove? Does it make them feel ‘better’ fans than us fly-by-nights? It’s quite a shame really, they don’t know what they’re missing.

Coalville Town 2 Whitley Bay 3

As a postscript, I found out on the way home that Paul Chow had been offered a slot in Blackburn Rovers’ end of season first team/reserve team game. A rather nice gesture in recognition of a prolific lower league goalscorer. I wonder if he impresses enough to get a deal …

*Hat Tip to the Hudsons – Andy for the Chow info and Michael for highlighting the Jarrow influence.  Zero silver realfacup trophies to the pub for the worst burger I’ve ever had. And *ahem* a few apologies to Coalville for the slightly Whitley-centric match report, although I don’t think we were too biased

Plenty of match highlights at Graham Yapp’s Modus Hopper Random and at www.thefa.com

As is fairly usual, we go for the Shoot! angle openers to ease our guests in.

Nickname: Robbo
I guess there’s no point in asking who you support, gonna be Toon all the way I imagine? Yeah the Toooon!
Job: Sage UK, it’s computer stuff and I have no idea what I’m doing!
Car: Navy Ford Focus

Who is your football hero and why?
Probably Gazza ‘cos he was the one I used to want to be when I was younger, not so much now!  So Gazza or Peter Beardsley … Beardsley’s the best player I’ve ever seen. An absolute class act!

What’s your favourite goal?
Either the winning goal in the last minute in last years Semi Final v Barwell. Or my goal at Wembley last season.

What level in the league do you reckon you could have made it to with the right break?
Premiership, probs playing just off Rooney for Man Utd! Ha! Naaa, who knows, you need so many things to go in your favour, right club at the right time with the right people. But I do wish I’d known at 18 what I know now about attitude and the way to approach things etc.

Who is your most difficult opponent?
We weren’t direct opponents in terms of position, but I played against Rooney when he was 15 when he was at Everton. It was an under 19 game and we lost 2-1 and he scored both! Even then you could tell he was gonna be a star.

Would you swap another Vase final for promotion?
Absolutely no chance. Vase all day long!

. .. and playing at Wembley must be immense, every boy’s dream?
Yeah it’s a bit special like!  [Damon: I am getting quite jealous at this point] Would be even better if it was full, but 10k plus will do I suppose! Haha.

How did you find out we’d nominated you for the Football Pubcast’s ‘Man Of The Year’?
I think it was Michael who does the Whitley Bay website who first told me about it.

Did you think you’d win?
I didn’t think I’d win to be honest, it was just nice to see my name next to some amazing players! Sneijder won the treble and played in a World Cup Final and my name was next to his! I’m sure the other players in the list didn’t lose too much sleep over it!

Knowing dressing rooms, I bet you got a tiny bit of stick when you won it?
I got a lot of stick, but most people must have voted as I somehow won!

How cool was it to beat £35million Andy Carroll and how much does that make you worth?
Andy Carroll is brilliant in my view, maybe not worth 35 million. God knows what I’d be worth! Couple of packets of crisps and Mars Bar maybe?!

Have you ever scored from the half way line? [In our nomination for Paul, much was made of his long range efforts]
Yeah I scored last season against Norton from the half way line, caught it sweet and it ended up going in. I’ve had a few go close as well but for every few that go close, there’s more that end up going nowhere near!!

Who is the Bay’s dressing room joker?
There’s a few to be honest, its a good team spirit. Gav Fell our coach is never, ever far away from any banter flying around tho!

– A direct question from the Bell End Choir – and I am quoting this word for word -
“How does it feel to be back at Wembley in front of legions of your adoring fans?”
Haha … its going to be great to be back in front of them as we never thought we would do it again, I just wish we could fill the whole of Wembley stadium with the Bell End Choir! Ninety thousand worth of Bell End Choir would be something special!

Do they ever give you any grief?
Haven’t had any grief from them yet and long may it continue!

This weekend is all about the Vase. The FA take a lot of stick but we think they deserve a lot of credit for keeping the Trophy and Vase finals at the home of English football. Would the Vase be as special without a trip to Wembley?
Yeah they defo do deserve credit, I noticed the Football League Play Off finals [I think we're talking Conference into League here] aren’t even at Wembley this season due to the Champions League Final, so to still have the Vase and Trophy there is massive for us non league players. The Vase would lose so much of its appeal if the Final was anywhere else, in my eyes. A national cup should be played at the national stadium.

Have you got a goal celebration lined up in case you score on Sunday?
I tend not to do goal celebrations! It’s been a while! Possibly the Shearer classic, one arm in the air??!

Are you going to give a score prediction or is that tempting fate and, if you win, can we come to the party?
No predictions but this will be our toughest game at Wembley, without doubt. And yeah, course you can come to the party, we’re at the … <venue deleted, we don’t want any dodgy pasta being served up on Saturday night>

Is (Bay legend*) Mark Taylor going to be around on Sunday?
Yeah, Tayls is going down, he’ll be in our hotel and be at the game as well.

What would you be doing this weekend if you weren’t playing at Wembley?
I would be doing whatever my girlfriend Laura told me to do as I’ve been out the house loads lately and she’s had our two kids to look after all on her own without me! She calls herself a half single parent! Nice! I would try and sneak a game in somewhere tho’!

We did ask Robbo if he wanted to ask us a question but I think the answer will get us both in trouble, so I’ll leave it for now.

—-

*Mark Taylor, long serving Whitley Bay left back and 2009 Vase winner who was diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease. Volunteers and his colleagues wanted to give something back and here’s where you can too Mark Taylor Fund.

FA Vase Final, Sunday 8th May, 3pm – Coalville Town v Whitley Bay. Tickets £25

Thanks to Ian Kinnon for providing The Bell End Choir question.

FA Vase Semi Final 1st Leg – Poole Town 1 Whitley Bay 2

Days like today reaffirm my belief in football. A piece of grass, very little in the way of stadium but, nevertheless, 1500 locals and 200 away fans turned up to participate in some grass roots action. And Fabio Capello was there to run his eye over some potential new talent, which was odd as apparently he should have been in Cardiff watching England play a third division international side. Sorry to the Welshmen of the World.

The FA Vase is, nominally, only the third most prestigious FA tournament but, for me, there’s something about it that elevates it above the Trophy. You’ll probably know successful Vase teams as places but not as football clubs. Apart from Whitley Bay, of course, who currently have their mitts welded to it. The Wembley final certain helps, even Bournemouth manager Lee Bradbury admits to jealousy at the chances of Poole making it there this year. Dolphins manager Tom Killick won the Vase with Wimborne in 1992.

Before the game, much had been made of the dictat of segregation but, other than the intended separate entrances for ticket holders and a small fence amusingly placed half way down the side of the burger van, the club, stewards and Police took an appropriate hands-off stance towards keeping fans apart. It wasn’t necessary anyway and the apparent ban for Whitley fans going in the ‘clubhouse’ appeared ill-regulated at best.

Sermon over.

Football hasn’t been kind to Poole in the last 15 years and it has to be said their local council isn’t exactly walking over hot coals for them in their pursuit of a permanent home. The school, on whose land they currently have a temporary home, have been thoroughly accommodating, although some local residents have been, perhaps understandably, less comfortable with the influx of hundreds of people into their locale.

The club bar is a portacabin, the burger bar is half a portacabin and the Directors’ lounge a big gazebo. Not ideal but it does work, well, it probably does when there are 500 people around. The burger ladies told me it was a nightmare when 1000 turned up for the Hayes & Yeading FA Cup game earlier in the season and they were wary of the mooted 2000 turning up today. I offered my services for £10 an hour and was pointedly reminded they did it for nothing. Yep, nothing, this MUST NOT be forgotten. I raise my glass to the burger ladies of this world.

By now I was busting for the loo and, searching for them, I ‘accidentally’ found myself first in the away dressing room and then the home dressing room. 1-1. Having walked blithely past a Policeman to get to the team area, I went back and asked where I should be.

Wandering round the ground I was cajoled into buying 10 pieces of A4 stapled together. This, I was told, was a match programme. I’d seen one before, I’d just never seen one so thin for 2/3rds of a pint. Actually, that’s a lie, it was a behemoth of value compared to the folded piece of A4 we got in Corinth last year. Spirits were revived by the folk duo singing songs about cider (is this cider country?) and a lad sitting on a goalpost. It was also the first time in MANY years I’ve seen a bloke carrying a crate into a footy ground. If you don’t know what this means, you are probably under the age of 30 or are an armchair football fan, although the latter would probably mean you aren’t reading this.

For 89 minutes of this game, Poole retained possession well and looked to utilise the firepower they undoubtedly have. Why they kept top-scorer Steve Smith on the bench is a question only manager Tom Killick can answer, and it’s certainly a question the Poole fans we spoke to after the game wanted an answer to. Smith has scored over 30 goals this season so their bafflement is probably justified. It was 83 minutes before he arrived to try and get the second goal the Dolphins possession might have deserved but their guile in the final third certainly didn’t.

Instead, Whitley who, by the Bell End Choir’s own admission, had been woeful for 89 minutes suddenly burst into life and their clinical finishing saw them equalise and then snatch victory with a superb free kick from Kerr. The slight sense of burglary riddled the post match discussion. Ian, who had introduced me to various members of Whitley’s famous Choir, was almost embarrassed as we pre-ambled about the result with some locals before getting the skinny on Poole’s ground woes.

So, what is now 3 years and umpteen games, Whitley Bay’s unbeaten record in the FA Vase marches on but this was as close as they’ve come to losing it – and they deserved to do so.

At the risk of being twee (again), today was quite emotional. The fans know the players and this, for me, is what is missing higher up the pyramid. It increases the sense of community, that you’re all in it together. You won’t often hear a non-league fan accuse players of not trying because they actually know the (majority of) players want to be playing for them. It makes a ‘club’ more than multi million pound strikers, pre-match cordon-bleu restaurants, comfortable seats or even brilliant sight lines.

We retired to the Poole Labour Club, next to Mammy’s Baps cafe and had a chinwag about ground irrigation with the Poole groundsman, Chris, and spun a few yarns with their long serving physio Dick Thomas. Poole need a new ground to progress, let’s hope the Council can pull their fingers out to help the club benefit the community even more than they do now.

Having said all that … the best bit of the day was the ‘young man’ who was ticked off by the fuzz for stealing daffodils. Cue “we’ve got your daffodils” song for much of the first half. Ironic then that we found this Whitley Bay flyer in the Labour Club …

Visit therealfacup youtube page for our fortuitous capturing of the winning goal and subsequent mayhem.

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Thanks to Ian for allowing me to tag along with the Whitley fans and John at Poole who was so helpful prior to the game. And also to Fabio and Friend, otherwise known as Poole fans Nigel and Paul.

Dunston UTS were beaten but not outclassed by FA Vase holders Whitley Bay in a splendid quarter-final confrontation between the Northern League rivals. With a two-legged semi-final ahead, and Coalville, King’s Lynn and Poole Town in the hat as potential opponents, few would now bet against a third successive Wembley appearance for the Bay.

Dunston arrived at this stage with three home ties followed by two away wins and a 13-1 goal ratio. They saw off Stansted of the Essex Senior League in round 5 and Andrew Bulford had eight of those goals to his name. Whitley Bay joined, as holders, in round two, and have a 15-3 aggregate from two home and two away ties. Paul Chow scored seven of them and he has netted in all four rounds. Something therefore had to give, which is why this tie had been hotly anticipated in these northern parts, and 1496 of us turned up to watch.

BUZZ

The Dunston programme announced quite rightly that this was the biggest game in the club’s history, and there was a tangible buzz around the ground as spectators arrived as early as 1pm to take up their chosen positions to watch. Both teams ambled around on the pitch before the warm-up in their dress tracksuits. Before kick-off, there was a minute’s warm applause in memory of Dunston physiotherapist Matty Annan, who had died suddenly last weekend.

Any feeling that Dunston were showing too much respect to the visitors was dispelled in the early minutes. They took the lead and held it at the interval, and had enough in the tank to fight back after going 2-1 down, but in the end the stronger side won.

Whitley Bay got their equaliser early in the second half so they could continue to play in their preferred style. They had come out after the interval a full three minutes before their hosts and started the second half full of intent. Possibly, choice words of wisdom from the management were ringing in the ears. The first real chance of the second half fell to Whitley Bay’s Lee Kerr (who has four Vase goals this season himself) and although there was no power in the header, the neutrals like me felt that the goal was coming. Then a cross from the right was flicked on by Gary Ormston and Paul Chow had enough time to control the ball and smash an unstoppable shot to keep up his scoring record. 1-1, and within two minutes, Chow almost had his second. A horrendous miskick by home keeper Liam Connell almost presented him with a gift, but Connell redeemed himself by diving bravely at Chow’s feet. However, the tide had turned and in due time the more casual Dunston supporters were leaving before the end to beat the traffic.

PINK

Both sides had started the game well. The first chance was a diving header after five minutes for Dunston’s Steven Preen, from a cross by Fergal Harkin after good work by Lee McAndrew. The physical Whitley presence of Chow and the pink-booted strike partner Kerr were already causing problems for the home side, but an eighth minute header was straight at Connell. Their battle with the centre-backs looked to be crucial and a great clearance by Dunston’s centre-back Ben Cattanach snuffed out another chance on 20 minutes. The best Dunston offered in this phase of the game was a direct free-kick from Terry Galbraith, sent wide.

In the 23rd minute, Dunston lost Preen with an arm injury and substitute Stephen Goddard got himself booked almost immediately. Whitley’s Paul Robinson had a good turn and shot, and Cattanach was lucky with a sliced clearance that went over his own bar, as the Bay got themselves on top. Therefore the Dunston lead came against the run of play in the 35th minute. Goddard caused a ripple of laughter with his back towards the goal as he miscontrolled the ball and it hit his standing leg. However, from the rebound the ball was played forward by Harkin to Bulford who had time to steady himself before smashing an unstoppable shot past Kyle Hayes for his ninth Vase goal of the season. The home side held on to the lead comfortably enough until the half-time whistle.

PANIC

It was clear in cup-tie football that Whitley Bay would have to attack after the break. The crucial point would be Dunston’s approach, whether they would sit back and play on the break. The fact that the equaliser came so soon meant that the pressure never really built on the visitors. However, all credit to Dunston whose heads stayed firmly up. After the equaliser, Goddard’s shot forced a full length one-handed diving save from Hayes in the 66th minute. Hayes also tipped over a cross-shot from Bulford after Harkin had seized on an error in midfield. A drilled cross from Galbraith allowed a header for Michael Dixon, but substitute defender Pounder did enough in the box, and there was another moment of panic in the Whitley Bay six-yard box when a mishit shot bounced around. Fair play to Dunston for looking to win the tie with their home advantage.

A calm and classy finish after 81 minutes settled the game in favour of the visitors and removed the threat of extra time. The ball was won by Kerr who put Chow through for a one-on-one. Chow rounded the keeper, stayed on his feet and finished with enough care to miss the defender rushing back to block. Despite Dunston’s valiant attempts to get an equaliser, Whitley had the best chance of the final minutes. Chow set up full-back Craig MacFarlane but a good block from Connell kept the game alive for a few minutes more, before the Bay took the ball into the corners to run the clock down.

For the passing neutral ‘hopper such as myself, this counts as a really good game because the result was in doubt right up to the final whistle. I loathe one-sided games where one side is three up by half-time. These two sides were great ambassadors for their step five league, and I shall certainly make a point of coming up to the north-east again. Of the Vase quarter-finalists, I’ve also seen King’s Lynn and Leiston in action this season, and the latter went out to Coalville Town. I have to say that a Linnets v Whitley Bay final is my bet if they avoid each other in the semi-final draw. Regular readers of my blog can already do the maths because the dynamics of semi-final draws have been geekalysed – there is a one in three chance that they await each other next, over two legs.

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Thanks again to Graham for his report. What he didn’t mention was that he went to this game thanks to randomly asking someone on Twitter to pick a colour; I said “blue” and sent him to this game. For more random hopping visit Graham’s brilliant blog ModusHopperRandom.

So, Whitley march on towards yet another final? Or can someone stop them? Visit The FA website on Monday to see the semi final draw.

Welton Rovers v Verwood Town in the FA Vase was a game approaching that level, but happily not quite reaching it. Notionally, these teams are at the same level of the “pyramid” though I’ve often wondered how good a guide that really is. If there are more strong teams in a particular area then their bit of the pyramid is going to be stronger. These sides are only about an hour and a half apart (which on Somerset and Dorset roads is only around 50 miles) but the contrast between them was huge.

This was part of my ongoing quest to find a new non-league team to spend my Saturdays with, having moved 200 miles out to the West Country, leaving behind my regular Ridgeons League heroes. Welton are now my most local team. I was hoping for a more spiritual experience than I had enjoyed previously at Paulton Rovers who are a few miles further away and play at Zamaretto level, in a rather pragmatic (but effective) way.

Being a lapsed Ipswich Town season ticket holder, it would have been easy to fall for Paulton had they won their televised tie against Norwich in the Third Round last year. But they got face-raped 7-0. Worse still, all the locals still wear commemorative shirts telling the world how awestruck they are at having mixed with a team and fans which some of us know to be worthy of nothing but utter disdain. With all that in mind, I had high hopes for Welton and the excitement of a Vase tie seemed like the ideal reason to pay my first visit.

The ground ticked all the boxes. The initial conundrum was where to park given that the car park was directly behind one of the goals. Straight behind the goal seemed safest bet, but my poor car would still have been at serious risk from looping deflections from corners. I ended up at the back of the car park where the chances of being hit seemed lower, but the risks if it happened were probably higher given that it would need an enormous hoof (or a Royle as I used to call it) to reach that far. I suppose that, on cold November night, I could sit in the car and watch the match, but that would rather defeat the object of going. And would be a waste of the football shaped pocket warmers my Mum bought me last Christmas.

I was surprised to find people actually sitting in the main stand, which I had assumed (from a distance) to be off limits for safety reasons. The wooden benches actually sloped at such an angle that you could let go of a coconut shy ball (the ones hacked out from lumps of wood until just about round enough to throw) at one end, and it wouldn’t stop accelerating until it flew off the other. Worryingly, that was purely down to the state of the structure rather than because the ground it was built on sloped.

I went with the intention of getting behind Welton, and with an open mind as to adopting them as my local side. That quickly went out of the window though. The sign warning of asbestos behind the semi-derelict stand was a good deal more threatening than the Welton attack. Verwood on the other hand scored with minutes gone, and played all the football despite the best efforts of an Ian Holloway look-a-like manager screaming “Early!” at any player receiving the ball within punting distance of the Welton box. Happily, the players largely ignored his hollering and played some decent stuff. Equally the manager ignored my hollering; “let them play football gaffer”. I’m probably lucky he didn’t tell me to fuck off.

I wanted to like Welton. I want to fall in love with a nice local team, but they have made it very hard. Even with the incentive of progression in the FA Vase, they were limp and unimpressive.

Verwood could and should have had two more before half time. An effective young centre forward by the name of Haskell was out-jumping and outrunning the Welton defenders at will. The goals eventually came in the second half. First a neat hooked volley after the ball was headed thuddingly back across the box from a corner, and then a classic breakaway against tired and demoralised opponents in the last few minutes.

It shouldn’t be hard to love a team who actually have a player they call “chopper”. But he turned out to be a skinny ginger teenager.

Can they turn it round and win my affections? I don’t know, but its going to be tough when I’ve already applauded their opposition and felt rankled by the partisan locals whining and bitching about blatantly correct refereeing decisions. Ground which is level enough to play football on is at a premium in hilly Welton. I hope its not wasted on Welton Rovers.

THE FA Vase final was perhaps always going to be the most likely source of season finale for therealfacup. The FA Cup final was always likely to be an unappealingly corporate whore-athon and the experience of our chum Rich at runcorn2wembley illustrates that perfectly.

This was therealfacup’s first trip to Wembley. Well, it was mine, Matt had been before to see Exeter in the Conference play off final and to see Oasis (!?) and Andy had been to see Blackpool in the League One play off final.

Pre-match was set fair and off to the Green Man in Wembley to join the throng. If there was any indecision about who we should be rooting for in this game, it was swiftly and sharply brought into focus by a ‘Wroxham fan’ wearing a Norwich City shirt. Why? This is Wroxham’s day, who cares if you are a Norwich fan you selfish aunt.

It was pretty quiet but jovial at the Green Man with the Whitley fans, there were some big lads having occasional sing songs but, generally, there were loads of kids around and it was all rather pleasant. And then the sun came out and it shone brightly off the not inconsiderable midriff of a Bay ‘fan’ wearing THAT Newcastle shirt. We nearly dropped our earlier objections to the Norwich one but it takes a special breed of man to wear that ‘Solero’ away kit, so we let it go.

Throughout the 3 pints we were there, the sun got warmer and the volume gradually increased but it dissipated from about 2:15 as people drifted off to the ground a bit early.

My other half, a Whitley native, had decided that planting seeds and shopping took preference over watching her kinsmen grace the hallowed turf of Wembley. As Wroxham had reportedly only sold 2500 tickets, it looked as though this absenteeism was unlikely to mean The Bay were outnumbered. That was the case, they had well over 5000 in a sub-par crowd of less than 9000.

Given the current strength of the Northern non-leagues, we were predicting a comfortable win for Bay against a side not used to this stage of the competition. After just 23 seconds, man of the match Paul Chow nipped in between the Yachtsmen’s ‘keeper and a defender, both clearly frozen in Wembley’s headlights, to score the quickest goal in Vase final history – and possibly the quickest at the new Wembley.

The early goal didn’t faze Wroxham and, with equal fortune, they found themselves level after Bay failed to clear a cross. But another defensive error was only minutes away as Wroxham’s Eastaugh turned a Hodgson cross beautifully past his own keeper and into the bottom corner. It was a great finish, wrong end.

The rest of the half produced no goals and although Wroxham were second best they weren’t out of it. They were however favouring the outlet of Lemmon on their right flank but he was well marshalled and had little support. Wroxham were trying to play the right way but their insistence on short passes was proving restrictive because they were closed down effectively by every Bay player. Whitley were doing the same but their players had the vision and ability to punctuate their short play by occasionally executing accurate longer crossfield and forward passes that stretched Wroxham’s back line.

Having been burgled of £25 for a ticket and £4 for a thin but glossy programme before the game I decided not to eat, choosing to leave myself open for embitterment at Wembley’s well known refreshments racket. A £4 slice of ‘stone baked’ (my arse) pizza looked to fit the bill but proved disappointingly appetizing. Herby, cheesy, tomoatoey goodness. Damn you Wembley. Andy’s £4 vegetable pie proved more satisfactory in the disappointment stakes. It smelled vaguely of curry but was three inches in diameter, the colour of David Dickinson and had some different coloured pieces in it that were, we assumed, supposed to be the veg. Grim.

Such was the pizza/pie intrigue, not to mention the food queue, we missed Whitley’s 3rd goal. Mind you, so did the vast majority of Whitley fans who went scurrying for the tunnels as a muted cheer filtered through from the stadium. I got there just in time to see the ball bounce gently over the line on the big screen replay. Bugger.

The dozen or so ten year olds behind us who’d been singing “You only sing when you’re winning’ for much of the first half, despite being told to sit down several times by a jobsworth steward, went berserk and then started to open up their repertoire. I’m not yet fluent in Geordie so I’m paraphrasing with this translation but my favourite went something like “I told me mam not to fetch us some tea, coz I’m off to watch Whitley at Wemberley“. It’s not often you get such well behaved young lads going mental for the WHOLE 90 minutes in a barely supervised group so it was quite refreshing in an almost empty national stadium to get a decent atmosphere.

The game was effectively over. Whitely were the better side anyway but with Wroxham needing to attack they were getting picked off every few minutes and Bay added a 4th, 5th and 6th which could easily have been extended to a 7th, 8th and 9th. It was a bit of a shame for the Yachtsmen’s adventure to end with such a walloping but, by all accounts, Wroxham’s best players simply didn’t turn up, so a tricky tie was simply made impossible.

You could perhaps assume such a low crowd would have us suggesting a smaller, alternate venue might be more appropriate for such a lowly final but, no, we stand by our comments in the preview. This is exactly appropriate for all the reasons we suggested and when the scorers names flashed up on the scoreboard, the replays were shown on the screen and when the players took the walk up the steps to collect the trophy, I couldn’t help but have a pang of non-begrudging covetousness for what even the vanquished players had experienced.

One thing about the attendance, though. Even the latter stages of this competition saw ticket prices of around £6/8, why was it £25 for the final? The question is answered, presumably, by the cost of Wembley Stadium but, even so, this crowd would have been much bigger if it was £15, which seems more in line with sense. The FA are to be praised for having the foresight to play Vase and Trophy finals at Wembley but they are somewhat short-sighted with the pricing and you have to ask whether they should pay more attention to the clubs when it comes to finals and not ride roughshod over an otherwise worthy competition.

Commiserations to Wroxham, congratulations to Whitley and SHAME on you jobsworth steward for getting ten year old boys to sit down on the back row of a sparsely populated stand. Good game.

Wroxham 1 Whitley Bay 6
Man Of The Match – Paul Chow (Whitley Bay)
Cheers to Andy Taylor, as ever, for some of the photos.

Actually, the law of averages suggests others surely must do but, still, when you think about it, it’s bloody good form, what! As a [insert cliched noble profession here], how much of a life highlight would it be to sit in the England dressing room, coveting the seat on which Goldenballs’ golden balls have perched, hanging your hoody on the peg that supported the full weight of Rio’s wardrobe or looking in the mirrors in which David James fixed his ‘fro? Fucking massive, number 1 highlight, that’s how much.

Two such teams of part time footballers will do just those things on Sunday week. And several thousand Whitley fans will return to Wembley having already pondered this last year after watching The Bay defeat Glossop North End 2-0. Their return this year is against more Easterly but, pyramid-wise, equal opposition and this is an odd final as I have at least a passing affection for both sides. therealfacup tries, and often fails, to be impartial but this one is going to be trickier.

Whitley Bay is what some might unfairly call a ‘traditional English seaside town’. It had it’s heyday back when other resorts did, when the Spanish City was in full force, but it’s not one of the many places that have become a shell. The lighthouse is cool, the chippies are good, the bars are, well, Geordie and the beach is excellent, if bloody freezing. I’m fairly new to it but thanks to my other half and her friends I’ve sampled its delights. And I like it.

We were going to check out a Bay home game at Hillheads on Boxing Day but the fierce weather that blighted blighty this winter got there first and dusted the pitch with frozen water molecules. No game. We did see them in the QF against Chertsey when they were hampered by a harsh sending off but they were clearly a decent side.

Wroxham, on the other hand, are a team very much from my past. It certainly used to be a fairly well kept small town with a decent bit of water running through it and an out of town shopping experience ahead of its time. No idea what it’s like now, mind? I used to cycle there when I were a lad, for something to do when not playing with disused farm machinery. I saw them play a few times back in the 90s when living in Norwich and have a vague, unconfirmed, recollection of playing there.

Though fun memories of visits to random grounds add a fondness, Wroxham are, of course, a Norfolk team and my newly found impartiality is hampered slightly by my Suffolk affiliation. But they aren’t Norwich, so move on, boy.

Wroxham are in the Ridgeons Eastern Counties Premier League, at the same level in the pyramid as Whitley, but are currently treading water in mid-table. Having never got this far in the Vase before, they are almost certainly underdogs. Two early Wroxham goals in the semi final 2nd leg effectively ended the tie in front of a record Trafford Park crowd of 1,262. The two goals killed it because they’d already despatched a Whitehawk side, champions-elect of the Sussex Counties league, at the same level of the pyramid, 2-0 in the first leg.

Whitley had an arguably trickier tie against a team who have this season achieved 101pts from a possible 111. Bay left it very late to nail their place with a 6-5 (agg), injury time-inspired win over Barwell. The Bay have, however, finished 3rd in the Northern League and it could have been better had they won their games in hand.

In a slightly disappointing twist, even though they’ve got to Wembley, one team won’t get to live the Goldenballs dream, they will be in the ‘away’ dressing room! And Whitley have missed out this time. Wroxham have the home ‘England’ dressing room and home colours but Whitley have been here before, this is their third Vase final in 9 years and, to celebrate, they’ve an old school ‘Football Special’ on hand to get from Newcastle to London.

For the Yachtsmen, this is their first trip to the big house and is, undoubtedly the biggest game in their history. Whitley’s two goalscorerss last year, Lee Kerr and Paul Chow are likely to start again. The FA Carlsberg Vase Final kicks off at Wembley Sunday 9th May at 3pm. Dream.

Ticket info for Whitley here and for Wroxham here. As if their fans don’t already know …

As I Tweeted after the game, this game annoyed me. Immensely. For several reasons. I wrote my original match report on the Sunday and it was, essentially, a hatchet job on the Chertsey fans. I thought better of publishing the match report and thought I’d give it a few days before having another go in a more balanced frame of mind. So I did a write up of only game action but that was pretty dull. Finally, I tried to do a mixture of the two and it was a furious ramble about the state of the modern game, which was a bit out of place and OTT. Also, in the mean time I read several reports of the game and all of them seemed slightly at odds with my impressions of it. According to both teams’ websites this was an exciting game so why was my impression so different?

It has to be said, it felt odd going to a game with my other half for the first time. This wasn’t one of the things that annoyed me but it definitely coloured my experience. Gone were the football comments, the game talk, I couldn’t quite ascertain how many of the situational and cultural reference points were or would be wasted. So I didn’t bother. This game was unlikely to hit the heights and the chances of it doing so were undermined with the other half’s Facebook update just before kick off that questioned why she was here at all. It was a joke but also a fair point, although also quite obvious as she is from Whitley Bay.

Secondly, the game really WAS pretty dire and this was the main problem. Neutrality at big, tight and tense games means that you don’t have the emotion and adrenal that both sets of fans do. Chertsey had the shoulder-chip inducing lack of history in the Vase to make this their ‘Cup Final’, as the bunting and balloons would hint. Whitley fans had the emotion of being cup holders to keep them goin. We had nothing. This neutrality often makes you view the game with cold eyes and a critical insight that means your view of the game is entirely different to the ‘fans’.

There was also the added problem of having no reference point to the previous week/month/season’s performances of either side. Was this better or worse fayre than usual? At a guess, it looked like Chertsey were playing at about par and Whitley had a little more. That might be unfair but the respective write ups do hint at that.

Though the general quality on show here was poorer than recent games we’d seen, the players undoubtedly weren’t helped by the undulating and sticky pitch. Control was often heavy, passes inaccurate and shooting wayward, particularly the latter by the home side.

The first half was only notable for the early goals and my noting that Whitley’s no.4, Hodgson, looked like he would get sent off at some point. My theory was fairly flimsy but he had managed a few minor yet cynical fouls that he’d followed up with a cheeky smirk or wink at the linesman, as if playing some odd game of cat and mouse with authority. I am pretty sure the lino clocked this and I do wonder if he mentioned it to the ref at half time? What followed might suggest he did.

The Whitley fans were amusing, they indulged in some soft-southerner baiting, bigged themselves up like any good fans should and sung of nights out, ladies parts etc etc. In short, they were nice and balanced, as you’d hope, and their banter was on the humourous side.

Chertsey on the other hand ploughed a defensive, insecure and aggressive furrow all the way through. They had a ‘no one likes us’ song like Millwall, although why anyone isn’t supposed to like them wasn’t apparent until after they’d been singing about this and flat caps for 20 minutes. They came out with so many northern (and some not even remotely northern, or accurate) stereotypes we lost count – flat cap, ‘we pay your benefits’, ‘dirty northern bastards’, something about the council not knowing they were down here or something … and many, many more, repeatedly. Banter is all part of football and the blowing of trumpets in the Whitley keeper’s ear when he was taking goal kicks was highly amusing. But, after 20 minutes or so of the same crass, inaccurate and tedious stereotypes being trotted out, it was not banter, it was constant and aggressive badgering.

The lack of warming ale might have been a factor and my decision to drive, thinking it would be both quicker and a nice drive in our now repaired English sports car, was just folly. I was wrong on all points. The beer, the fayre, the temperature, the lack of football’s cognescenti, they all accentuated the fan-watching aspect of the afternoon.

Could someone please tell me why Chertsey fans have such a chip on their shoulder? Do they have a beef with Whitley that wasn’t obvious? Was it just that due to a Sunday game, Chelsea Village were missing their idiots?

The second half of the game itself was equally as close as the first, in general. Early on came the decisive moment. Hodgson, got entangled and arms flailed. He found himself having his name taken. He didn’t appear to have done anything but, possibly thanks to his previous, he was deemed the guilty party. This may or may not have been the case but a few minutes later his little first-half smiles and winks seemed to come back to haunt him again when, after apparently being bundled over for a clear penalty, the ref told him to get up, reached for his pocket, booked him again and told him to leave the field. Harsh

I hate to say I told you so but I told you so. It was distinctly unfair on Whitley but if you dance with the devil etc etc. For the remainder of the half it was still pretty even but honours should go to Whitley for managing about a half hour with a disadvantage and not really being troubled.

There were a few good saves by both keepers in the dying embers of normal time and again towards the death of extra time but for large periods of the first half of extra time Whitley were the better side. For the neutral, however, there were large chunks of this game where nothing happened.

So, what’s the conclusion then? I reckon I just saw the wrong game at the wrong time with the wrong accomplice. Not enough footy chat, not enough entertainment, slightly tedious crowd and the game affected by a poor reffing decision. And maybe all of this just made me a bit unreasonable and abit tetchy.

Full Time: Chertsey Town 1 Whitley Bay 1 TheRealFACupVase 0

Off to QPR v Ipswich tonight to either achieve the partisan feeling so lacking on Saturday or to try to be as objective again and see how rubbish the fayre actually is when watching my own team. Either way, sorry to Chertsey, although I suspect their brag of having super loyal fans will be sorely tested at Hillheads on Saturday for the replay. Attendance here: 617.