No. 91: The Hive [Barnet]

Saturday, 19th March 2016
Barnet v. Oxford United [League Two] 0-3

The last League ground in the capital, and also the newest of all Football League grounds - it was North London and Barnet this weekend for a visit to The Hive.

Well, I say Barnet, but The Hive is actually around 6 miles from Barnet FC's old ground of Underhill, somewhere between Harrow and Edgware, just above the North Circular.

Travelling to watch Barnet at Underhill for non-Londoners used to involve a seemingly never-ending ride to the end of the tube's Northern Line to High Barnet station. I'd twice in fact misjudged the transit timing and ended up watching the game kick off from the tube train as it pulls in above the ground in full view of the pitch.

Canons Park Tube - Gateway to The Hive.

These days, it's a relatively short hop from Baker Street on the Jubilee Line to Canons Park, the nearest station to The Hive, which I made early to arrive with a good few hours to explore this unknown to me part of north London.

I've written a few blog entries now for London ground visits, and a common problem I've found when trying to do the pre-match 'cultural bit' for games in the capital is that most grounds are in cultural deserts.

Now, that's no fault of the clubs themselves of course, and I'm not trying to say that this makes the places shit or anything! It's as you'd expect really - the clubs grew up in residential areas where folks could enjoy a leisure pursuit at the weekends. Being 30 minutes' tube ride from the cultural capital of western Europe (Sorry Paris, it's true) means it's hardly necessary/likely to have museums, and trendy restaurants somewhere like Canons Park.

So Barnet/Canons Park people - don't feel bad at not having anything for me to do - I understand. And actually, if I'd bothered to get here early enough and done my homework, I could have had a wander around the "registered Grade II Historic Landscape" of Canons Park itself, and the 'remarkable church of St Lawrence" adjacent to it.

But as it was, I went and had a greasy spoon fry-up and spent all afternoon getting pissed in a shit faux-Irish pub. You can't always keep it cultural folks.

Canons Café Fry-Up Brekky: Lovely Stuff.

Next to the tube station is a row of shops, within which was the Canons Café - where I started off with a healthy breakfast of fried pork and potato products, which happily lined my stomach for the rest of the day.

Pre-match refreshment options were not in abundance - I'd already been told I couldn't use the bar at the ground as it was home fans only. Thankfully I ran into a chum who was just heading into a bar a few doors down from the café, so with little else to do, shutting myself away in a dark bar with a few dozen other Oxford fans seemed the best bet.

My friend had brought a guest along who was also close to finishing his 92 - Barnet being no. 90 for him. It brought up the discussion on what the rules are for what counts/what doesn't count as a 92 visit.

He believed that any visit to watch a sporting event at a ground counted, no matter what it was. So, watching a Wasps game at Coventry's Ricoh Arena would count. Or seeing a reserves or youth team game also counts. Or, for example, watching England play at Villa Park - also a tick on the way to the 92. I politely listened but internally I was vigorously shaking my head disapprovingly at this gentleman's scattergun approach to the serious business of 92 collecting.

My own view is, if you are going to do it at all - do it right. And since the whole point of categorising a ground as 'one of the 92' is that it's the home of a particular club - I think you have to see that club playing a home game there.

I think to not feel like you are cheating you'd want to make the visit a 1st team fixture too. Counting anything else would feel a bit seedy, wouldn't it? Like convincing yourself a greasy fry-up is an acceptable healthy breakfast. Further still, if you want that 92 Club tie, the 'official' rules state it has to be a competitive fixture too - so pre-season friendlies don't count either.

Entrance to The Hive Concentration Camp Complex.

Personally - I think it's really whatever you want it to be, if you even give a shit. No-one else can judge you but yourself, so if you think a rugby game counts, then that's your call.

But shame on you if you do, all the same.

Suitably moistened, it was time to head to the ground just a few minutes' walk away from Canons Park across the training pitches of The Hive Complex.

The complex was opened in 2009 as Barnet's training facility and centre of excellence, built partially with Football Foundation money from land granted by the London Borough of Harrow.

It was never intended to host Barnet's first team, but following long-running disputes with the London Borough of Barnet to allow redevelopment of Underhill, Barnet chairman Anthony Kleanthous moved the club to The Hive following the end of the 2012-13 season.

The Hive. A Training Complex in a park.

The move was still initially meant to be temporary pending building a new stadium somewhere in their home Borough, but the Barnet fans I spoke to believed they'll be at The Hive for some time to come.

Rickety old Underhill is apparently still standing some miles East in Barnet itself, used currently by the London Broncos Rugby League team as their training ground. Personally I'd rather be re-visiting characterful yet dilapidated Underhill rather than the Lego kit-like temporary appearance of The Hive, but I seemed to be alone in this.

North Stand Terrace: Entry for Away Fans at The Hive.

One Barnet fan I spoke to pre-match said "You could eat your dinner off the toilets here - you couldn't do that at Underhill!". Well, I guess when I get to the stage that eating food from a toilet basin is top of my wish-list for a ground visit, The Hive will be up there.

Until that day though, I can do without grounds like this if I'm honest. Sure, it's neat and tidy, and the main (West) stand with its 2,700 orange seats could probably be described as a decent one a lot of grounds would be proud to have. And hey - they've got terraces you can stand on! Always a bonus.

Oxford Fans in the North Stand Terrace.

But the temporary feel of the tiny metallic North Stand Terrace that the Oxford fans were housed in really had a Mickey Mouse feel to it - especially during exuberant bouncing from the expectant away following - I thought my knees had given way but it was just the stand buckling beneath us. If a few others had joined me in the Canons Café for a gut-buster I don't think the stand would have held.

The East Stand is basically the back of the main gym and office complex, with six rows of seats bolted on to the pitchside of it to make it look like part of a football ground.

East Stand, The Hive.

But hey, I'm clearly just peculiar, as most Oxford fans I spoke to seemed to not mind it, and with planning permission already granted to extend the North Terrace to a 2,000 all-seater, it looks like Barnet are planning on hanging around here for a while.

Onto the game itself, and despite Oxford's position second in the table and sparkling away form, it wasn't going to be a walkover - Martin Allen's teams always seem a struggle to play football against and their home form is second only to runaway leaders Northampton in League Two.

The Hive's West Stand, and a man dressed as a Bee.

Sure enough - it was a real physical battle in the 1st half and Barnet rattled the Oxford defence with aerial threats for the first 45 minutes. There were a lot of nervy fans in the away end that were thinking Oxford may struggle to get anything out of this game.

In the end, Oxford's class did tell and once nerves were settled by Callum O'Dowda's first goal as he was quickest to react to a loose ball in the area, Oxford took charge of the game. Barnet's early dominance had been subdued by a classy and dominant performance in the 2nd half.

Barnet Pressure in the First Half.

The 0-3 scoreline was probably a little unfair on Barnet in the end, and it's easy to see why Martin Allen has built a bit of a fortress out of this former training complex turned Football League ground.

Sitting in mid-table now, Barnet are sticking around in the Football League for another season at the very least, and I'd wager a few more than that too - so visiting The Hive will be a regular destination on the 92 Club route for a few years yet.

Oxford Players Celebrate a Goal with their Fans. South Stand Terrace behind.

It may not be for everyone, but it isn't the worst experience of the 92, and I suppose being able to eat food off a toilet is a plus point of sorts, isn't it?

For me, it was no. 91 and now it's onto Colchester - the town of my birth - next Friday to complete my 25-year journey since I started my Football League odyssey as a 12 year old. I simply cannot wait.

With thanks to Steve Long (@BeSteveL)

NEXT UP - THE FINISHING LINE! No.92: Colchester United Fri 25th March!

No. 90: Britannia Stadium [Stoke City]

Saturday, 12th March 2016
Stoke City v. Southampton [Premier League] 1-2

The last Premier League ground, and more importantly the last time the M6 was a necessary routing,  it was to Stoke to hit the 90 mark this weekend.

The city of Stoke-on-Trent is a unique place - being the only polycentric city in the UK, founded not around one centre of population but as an initially organic conurbation of six separate and still distinct towns. 

Tunstall, Burslem, Hanley, Stoke, Fenton and Longton are those six 'towns' that make up the city, and perversely, what is thought of as the 'city centre' today is actually Hanley, not Stoke itself - the two respective town halls being just over 2 miles apart.

Jovial Foresters Inn, Hanley. Fuck knows what they were jovial about.

It's all very confusing indeed and took me a while to realise what was happening when I parked up in the City Centre. Or Hanley town centre. This handy map from the visitor centre gives you an idea of how confusing this is.

Lemmy's (Motör)head, RIP.

Hanley, or Stoke-on-Trent city centre, or whatever the fuck it is, isn't really much to write home about and there isn't much to recommend a visit. It's mostly eerily dilapidated old pubs, a few civic buildings and the main shopping high streets of the city, similar to many others in modern Britain (i.e. bland).

I had high hopes for the Potteries Museum and Art Gallery here, but I'm afraid to say although well-intentioned I found it pretty mediocre. There was a Spitfire in there (the aircraft's designer having been from Stoke), which was pretty cool I guess, but the highlight for me was probably the bust of Motörhead's Lemmy, Burslem's finest recently departed musical export. 

Other than that I was struggling to find anything of interest in the City Centre/Hanley. I was just about to jump back into my car and head out to one of the other six towns when I stumbled across Oatie Mostons' Staffordshire Oatcakes van.

Yep, I'd never heard of Staffordshire Oatcakes either, but oatcake supremo Kevin Jones soon explained to me that they were a Stoke institution, and back in the day there would have been an oatcake shop on the corner of every terrace-housed street in the city. 

Oatie Mostons' Kevin Jones & his famous Staffordshire Oatcakes. Yum.

Made of oats, flour and water (and a special ingredient Kevin would not of course impart), the batter mix is griddled on a hot plate like a French crêpe, with your choice of tasty savoury filling, be it cheese, bacon, sausage, egg, mushrooms or any combination of the above. 

I had to try one, of course - and went for the traditional, filled with a generous heaping of crumbly Cheshire cheese from just up the road. Absolutely delicious and makes any trip to Hanley worthwhile - get yourself down to Oatie Mostons for an Oatcake! But don't ask for a free one unless you want a face full of batter.

Still with a few more hours to kill, my cultural radar was in need of finding out a little about what this city is most famous for - the industry that gave rise to Stoke City FC's nickname, The Potters.

If you are not sure what I mean it is the Pottery industry, and you are probably an idiot.

Stoke's skyline was once dominated by the distinctive curved, squat chimneys of the bottle ovens and the dirty smoke they unhealthily belched out, within which hundreds of local factories fired pottery for shipment around the world. 

Even as recently as the 1960's there were still over 2,000 of these bottle ovens in Stoke, but since then they have rapidly left the skyline as the industry declined, with any remaining factories moving to cleaner, more efficient methods of production.

In Longton at the southern reach of the city, is one remaining Victorian pottery factory complete with four bottle oven towers, now preserved as the informative Gladstone Pottery Museum.

Gladstone Pottery Museum, Longton. Well worth a visit.

Now, you may be thinking "But mate, I don't give a fuck about pottery!", and normally I'd agree with you. 

Although I love a good history museum, when it gets to the bit where we are shown the bowls peasants ate their gruel out of or the bedchamber pot Henry VIII did a post-feast dump in - I bore quickly and whizz on by.

But I have to say, to get a real feel for the life of industrial Stoke's population and understand the history of this proud city, this is as fine a place as I could have gone to. 

Pottery Demonstration: Gladstone Museum, Longton.

Although many of the famous names you associate with ceramics also had their bases here in the Potteries, most of the factories made everyday chinaware for the masses and it was far from a glamorous existence working in a place like Gladstone's.

Bottle Oven & Inset: Saggers being loaded.

You can easily spend a fascinating couple of hours here both being treated to some demonstrations on how pottery is made today, but more interestingly learning about the back-breaking work and atrocious conditions people were paid a pittance for to keep the intense fires of these bottle ovens burning at 1,250°C.

Pottery was loaded into handmade clay pots called 'saggers' to protect the pieces during the firing. Men had to carry each 25kg sagger on his head to stack inside the kiln. 

Each firing took 2-3 days to complete and the fireman would attend the oven continuously during this time and use 10-15 tonnes of coal per firing to painstakingly control the process - a bad firing could mean the end of the factory so it was a crucial job in unpleasant conditions.

By far the worst job in the factory though was emptying the oven - a process that took 5 hours in the small, dark, dusty and intensely hot interior of the oven. It was not a healthy employment.

Well over half of the Stoke population would have been employed in the pottery factories in the early 20th Century, with the average age of a worker being just 47. 

Pretty much the only thing a worker might have had to look forward to once he clocked off on a Saturday afternoon was to grab an oatcake and pile through the turnstiles of the Victoria Ground to watch the 'wizard of dribble' mesmerise the crowd.

Hanley-born Stanley Matthews was English football's first true superstar, tearing defences apart with his trademark runs down the wing. He turned out for Stoke for 19 years from 1932-1947 and 1961-1965, with a 14-year soujourn in Blackpool in between where he won an FA Cup medal in a career-defining man of the match performance at the age of 38. 

Matthews is still the oldest player to represent his country, and was still playing top-flight football for Stoke at the age of 50 before finally retiring quite obviously the club's greatest-ever player. 

Sir Stanley Matthews Statue, Britannia Stadium, Stoke.

The statue of him at the Britannia is one of the finest of any sporting statues I've seen, featuring three representations of Matthews through his career, from teenager in the 1930s, to England international, to his last days at Stoke in the 1960s. A wonderful tribute.

Stoke City's 28,000 all-seater Britannia Stadium opened in 1997 to replace the old Victoria Ground (at that point the oldest ground in the football league), and sits on the southern edge of the city, in between the towns of Fenton and Stoke.

Q-Railings (Main) Stand, Britannia Stadium, Stoke.

It's an impressive ground, and would be a claimant to being one of the most impressive grounds to have hosted third tier football - Stoke being relegated to what was then Division Two (now League One, but before both the old Division Three - confusing, isn't it?) in 1998, in their first season at the Britannia.

Built just before the 'bowl' stadia frenzy took hold, the Britannia has a little bit more character with two stand-alone cantilevered stands, including the main one I was in.

The main home end behind the goal (Boothen End) is connected in the corner to the DPD (East) Stand. The other stands were built some distance from the pitch and from each other (a regulation at the time of construction, which demanded that an ambulance could be driven around the entirety of the outside of the pitch). So I can't see much need for them to fill in the other three corners anytime soon, even though they do fill up the ground most games.

Stoke spent 4 seasons impressing away fans used to rickety old terraces with their new ground before finally being promoted via the play-offs in 2002. It seems strange to think of Stoke spending time so recently outside of the top flight - only the most hardened Port Vale fan would have to admit that since their promotion in 2008, Stoke have become a well-established Premier League side.

Looking towards The Boothen End. Nello in his seat in foreground.

With Stoke finishing in 9th place in each of the last two seasons, I certainly felt a level of expectation had been dropped below for the Potters fans when they started poorly against Southampton this afternoon.

The travelling Saints fans, who had themselves recently experienced time in the third tier of course, were in fine voice throughout and had much to shout about - their side seemed to be the only one in it for the first 45 minutes in a game that both needed to win to stay in the pack chasing for European football next season.

Looking towards the South Stand, Britannia Stadium, Stoke.

The visitors were deservedly 2-0 up going into the break, thanks to a brace from Graziano Pellè, who had his name ringing around the ground whilst the home fans bemoaned the apparent lack of movement, desire and speed of the Stoke players. I had to agree.

At half-time, there was a lovely moment as Stoke's legendary fan and former kit-man Neil 'Nello' Baldwin was presented with a shirt for his 70th birthday which he celebrates this week. Nello was already a local legend for the time he spent in the home dug-out during Lou Macari's time as manager in the 1990s.

Neil 'Nello' Baldwin: Stoke City Fan Legend and subject of 'Marvellous'.

Macari said of Nello that he was "the best signing I ever made". Baldwin, a registered clown, won over players and fans alike with antics such as dressing up as a chicken or a Mutant Ninja Turtle whilst taking his place on the bench, or for his role in an infamous 'unveiling' of Macari's new Scottish striker on an end of season video.

Nello became more widely known thanks to a BAFTA-winning BBC biographical film about his life made in 2014 called Marvellous, starring Toby Jones, and featuring a cameo from Baldwin himself. It's a heart-warming, funny and bitter-sweet joy to watch and one of the best football films I've ever seen. Highly recommended.

It turned out Nello was sat just two rows in front of me, and I spent much of the 2nd half smiling and thinking how wonderful it was that a city and a football club took this sweet man with learning difficulties to their hearts.

DPD (East) Stand, Britannia Stadium, Stoke.

Stoke turned up the heat a little in that 2nd half and showed what the atmosphere could be like in the stadium. Lanky Austrian striker Arnautovic netted on 52 minutes after a strong period of play for Stoke, and dominated possession from there until the final whistle.

Sadly for the home fans though, possession means nothing when a team like Southampton turn up and orchestrate a perfect counter-attacking game plan - and the best chance for a fourth goal of the game fell to the visitors as they hit the crossbar late on. Despite looking like a fightback might be in the offing, Stoke were deservedly beaten in the end from a team that simply executed better and seemed to want it more.

A rare first half Stoke Attack.

So Southampton jump two places above Stoke into 7th, and will be hoping to push on and sneak into the Europa League places. Stoke now sit 9th - level with their record Premier League finishes the last two seasons.

If they end up staying there, it may be treading water and perhaps for a club with such a proud history you can understand the ambition to do better. Perhaps, though, if they stood back and looked at the big picture, they'd remember that in the last 20 years they've spent a fair chunk of it nowhere near the Premier League. Yet today, Stoke City stand proudly as the 9th best side in England.

The Potters may just be 'pottering' around in the top flight. But there are 83 other clubs out there in the Premier and Football League that would snap their hands off for that sort of stability.

Plus, they don't have to carry saggers on their fucking heads into a 1,250°C furnace anymore, like their granddads might have done. 

OK so their granddads also got to watch Stanley Matthews. But I'd still take Xherdan Shaqiri and mid-table meandering over saggers and Matthews, any day.

NEXT UP: No. 91 - Barnet's The Hive! Sat 19th March.

No. 89: John Smith's Stadium [Huddersfield Town]

Saturday, 27th February 2016
Huddersfield Town v. Ipswich Town [Championship] 0-1

Earlier this season I took my Dad back to his hometown of Mansfield on one of my 92 trips. This weekend, it was my Huddersfield-born mother's turn to show me her roots. And after she'd sorted them out at the hairdresser's we drove up to Huddersfield with my dad and the wife in tow.

It's a long old drive up the M1 to Huddersfield - a drive I remember very well making as a child to visit grandparents in 'The North' in the 1980s and early 1990s. Turning onto the A637 at Junction 38 was always when the bland monotony of the motorway became Yorkshire for me, and it still is.

The View of Huddersfield Town from atop Castle Hill.

Dry stone walls instantly appear, framing expansive vistas across steep-sided green fields, and the dark stone, soot-stained slate tiled houses clinging bleakly to the edge of the Pennines. It always felt desolate, grey and cold, and yet somewhat warming inside in its unfamiliar familiarity.

Victoria Tower & Armada Beacon.
Inset: Tower Cornerstone

There was only one place to start really, and that was a drive up Castle Hill for a view over the town so familiar and yet so different to me.

Visible from much of the town itself, steep and windswept Castle Hill and its Victoria Tower stand sentinel over this corner of West Yorkshire.

The tower was built in 1897 to mark the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria's reign, and used to sit atop Castle Hill alongside an isolated pub-hotel that I remember sheltering in from the wind on many a family trip up the hill after my pestering to go up there.

Sadly, the pub is now gone - torn down in 2005 after the council landowners got into a dispute with the leaseholders over their renovations of the original early 19th century structure. Bit of a shame to tear the whole lot down, I'd have thought.

Today, you wouldn't even know there had been a hotel up there, and the tower looks a bit lonely.

By now the voyagers were famished and I had been informed by all that there was only one food source good enough for the occasion. In fact, my mum said the only reason she'd agreed to come up was to have some proper Yorkshire fish and chips.

Even the most staunchly patriotic southerner has to have some grudging respect for the northern chippy and its far superior take on the British classic of fish, chips and mushy peas. Oh, and 'bits' of course - known as scraps in other parts of the North, Huddersfielders cling to their uniqueness in calling the small crunchy left-over pieces of fried batter 'bits'.

I'm not sure what it is about the frying process up here that makes them so delicious, but my mother reckons it's because they still fry everything in beef dripping rather than oil. I couldn't confirm whether this was true or not - but they certainly have a distinct, delicious and extra crispy batter in "Olde England Fisheries" in Huddersfield town centre that floors anything down south.

The George Hotel, Huddersfield. Inset: Mum & Dad.

After that, we hauled our batter-filled bellies to St George's Square, surrounded by beautiful 19th century civic buildings that betray the wealth that the textile mills brought to this town in previous centuries. None more beautiful than the George Hotel, built in 1851 with an Italianate classical facade, and where my mum and dad had their wedding reception when they worked in this historic establishment in 1977.

Sadly it's been closed since 2013, so our original plan to stay here for the weekend was scuppered. This hotel has enormous significance to a sport for men with odd-shaped balls, as it was in the George in 1895 that Rugby League was birthed, when clubs voted to break with the Rugby Football Union.

I'm not particularly interested in either form of the cauliflower ear-making cuddle-fest, but it's still a shame somewhere playing such an important part in the origins of a sport is standing derelict. It's also where my mum and dad got married, so that's even more of a reason for someone to re-open it, please.

On the other side of St George's Square is one of the most impressive train stations in the country, and in front of it a statue of Huddersfield's most famous son, former Prime Minister Harold Wilson.

St George's Square, Huddersfield. Inset: Harold Wilson Statue.

On either wing of the impressive main facade, with its corinthian columned portico (a railway frontage described by John Betjeman as 'the most splendid in England'), are two pubs. The one on the left as you look at it is The Head of Steam and well worth a visit if you like your beers, or your railway memorabilia. If you are a train-spotting CAMRA member, you'll probably mess yourself.

Head of Steam Pub, Huddersfield. CAMRA-tastic.

We had a few welcome beers in here, warming up out of the crisp, chilly Yorkshire February afternoon, and allowing our bodies to process the obscene amount of batter we'd just consumed.

Our hotel was a 5-minute walk beyond the inner ring road from here, so we checked in and chilled out, before hitting Huddersfield for a night on the tiles. To be honest, it was a bit of a struggle as we were all suffering from a severe bout of post-prandial torpor. In our first stop, another great ale house called The Sportsman, I managed a pint of an unusual salted, smoked maple ale from Yorkshire based Bad Seed Brewery.

But by the time we ended up in the pumping, loud and lairy Voda Lounge to join the usual Friday night revellers starting their weekend out on the town, I think we realised the night was over and retreated back to the hotel.

My Grandparents' old House, Crossland Moor. Ginnel at left.

Starting early the next day, we went on a drive out to find the house my mum grew up in just up the road in the Huddersfield suburb of Crossland Moor. A traditional 'back-to-back' terrace with a connecting covered passageway, or 'ginnel' so the houses at the back can access the road at the front - this house was the one I remember visiting my Grandparents in as a child.

Today, it was on the market for sale, and for a cool £80k I could own this two-bed terrace in Huddersfield that my Grandparents bought in the 1960s for about £500.

We had a quick drive around a few other of my mum's old haunts including her school Royds Hall (also Harold Wilson's alma mater), about 4 miles away that she used to have to walk home from because she'd spent her bus money on a pineapple ice cream from Dixons Milk Ices. Sadly, it was February and temperatures were struggling to push above freezing, so we couldn't partake of the Huddersfield tradition of a Dixons.

Holmfirth: Last of the Summer Wine Country.

With a few more hours to kill before the game, we drove over to the nearby small town of Holmfirth, a pretty little place on the river made famous by the long-running BBC sitcom, Last of the Summer Wine. I'm sure it was was hilarious in its 1920s heyday or whenever it was it started, but for me it always seemed well beyond its sell-by date as I was growing up.

It also was part of a regular Sunday night TV line-up including Songs of Praise and Antiques Roadshow that reminds me of sitting through them with gritted teeth procrastinating doing the homework that had to be handed in Monday morning.

Despite my personal dislike of LotSW, it was immensely popular, ran for 37 years and Holmfirth still draws a tourist crowd to see where Compo tried to get into Nora Batty's wrinkled stockings, or where the three pensioners went uphill and down dale in a bathtub, or whatever unlikely japes the old loons got up to.

Toasted Teacake & a Cuppa. 'Aaahh'!

We popped into the Wrinkled Stocking Tearoom and had another Yorkshire classic - a toasted teacake and a cup of tea. On a frosty February day, there is nothing that'll make you exhale a contented 'ah' more than a freshly brewed cuppa in a Yorkshire tearoom.

I left family 'aah'-ing away in Holmfirth and headed back to Huddersfield for the main reason for the visit - the afternoon's game with Ipswich and my 89th current Football League ground.

John Smith's Stadium, Huddersfield.

The currently-named John Smith's Stadium (previously the Galpharm, and before that the Alfred MacAlpine) sits a mile north-east of the town centre, just yards away from where their previous Leeds Road home had been until their move to the purpose-built multi-sports facility back in 1994.
As one of the first 'new generation' of stadiums built in the early 90s, it's starting to show some expected wear and tear 22 years later, but it's still a pretty impressive and actually rather characterful ground I kinda liked.

All four stands feature a unique curved cantilevered design, converging in the open corners in free-standing anchored poles of concrete, between which the voyeur can glimpse a tantalising section of the pitch. Although not quite enough to make viewing the game from this vantage worthwhile.

The ground is also partially built into a natural bank behind it, with a densely wooded hill directly behind making a full circuit of the ground impossible to all but a committed adventurer. I know because I got halfway around the back before realising the muddy trail I'd been following petered out into nothing. The discarded discount cider bottles and novelty balloons here probably meant the trail was most widely used by bored teenagers and unadventurous doggers.

The Fantastic Media (North) Stand, Huddersfield's John Smith's Stadium.

I managed to re-trace my steps before something Blair Witchy happened to me, and took my place in the two-tiered Fantastic Media Stand at the North end of the ground. I was right at the front of the top tier and this was one of the steepest stands I've ever been in - feeling almost vertiginous every time I had to stand up to let someone file past me.

Looking towards the South Stand and Town Centre Behind it.

The away fans were housed opposite with the town centre visible to me behind the stand, and they had travelled in good number from Suffolk. Alongside them in the same stand were a very vocal group of fans who have made it their aim to make the John Smith's match day experience more vibrant and colourful. They are known as the North Stand Loyals and bring with them the usual plethora of Ultras waving flags and songs involving bouncing around a lot.

Ignoring the lack of loyalty to the North Stand that betrays their name a bit, fan initiatives like this are so important to the game these days and they certainly created a good amount of noise and atmosphere. And bouncing.

One of the faces on flags I recognised was that of Herbert Chapman, who built the team that won the Terriers three successive Division One titles from 1924-1926, the first time it had ever been done. Although by the time of that record-breaking third title, Chapman had moved on to manage Arsenal, where he went on to found their first success, but died of pneumonia half-way through Arsenal's 2nd title in a row in 1934.

Arsenal also went on to win a third straight title in 1935 - so Chapman has the unique honour of being the guiding hand in two separate clubs winning three titles in a row, even though he never got to see both through to fruition.


Huddersfield rightly so cling to that historic triple, their club badge featuring three stars to represent the triumphs.

In honour of Chapman pioneering the use of tactics in football, I munched through a box of on-brand 'Town Tactics' during the game and gave Chapman's flag a little salute of respect as I did.

Unfortunately, I can't see Huddersfield repeating that 1920s success anytime soon on this afternoon's showing. The programme was billing the new, exciting style of play that the new manager has introduced to the team as the 'Wagner Revolution'.

David Wagner is a German with American parentage, qualifying him to have played for the US national side, and before his appointment in November 2015 at Huddersfield was the coach of Borussia Dortmund's reserve team. He's certainly brought an intricate style of possession play football, building from the back and working the ball forward and they certainly created a whole heap of chances and had much the more possession.

Problem is, without a front line who can take those chances, you end up not winning games. According to the post-match stats, Huddersfield had 67% of the possession and 27 shots to Ipswich's 7. Sadly, 22 of those shots weren't finding the target, and it took Ipswich's only one that did find it to win the game.

1st Half: Huddersfield put Pressure on Ipswich Goal.

A lesson perhaps in style not always triumphing over substance, and they'll need a bit more substance if they want to ensure a mediocre mid-table finish doesn't slip into a brown-trousered relegation panic come the start of May. That would certainly be one way to bring a revolution to Huddersfield.

Still, you have to admire a man who wants to try and play football - and Huddersfield certainly did that. Off the field, it would appear the club are also trying to make waves and convince lapsed fans to come back in droves.

East Stand, John Smith's Stadium, Huddersfield.

Next season, the first 10,000 season tickets in any part of the John Smith's Stadium will be just £179. That's a pretty decent offer for Championship football, and perhaps in 2016-17, with increased crowds and a few off-season signings to strengthen his squad, the rest of the Football League could also be hailing the Wagner Revolution?

Stranger things have happened. As someone with a strong family connection and warm feelings towards the town, I hope it does.

The second night in Huddersfield was a bit more of an event. We took up a recommendation from the night before on the best pub in town and headed to the Rat & Ratchet Brew Pub on Chapel Hill - a marvellous little place that brews its own beer as well as serving a fine selection of other ales. This pub has won countless awards and its on-site brewed White Rat is something to try.

We also ended up chatting for hours to the middle-aged couple next to us about Huddersfield and our little pilgrimage, and had a lot of fun making new friends in this wonderful hostelry. My mum has been saying it for decades, but people are a lot more outgoing and friendly 'up North' than they are down South. Just like the superior fish and chips, it's an unwelcome fact to all Southerners alike.

Saying that though, their weather is fucking shit, isn't it? 2-1 to the North.

Someone else's Shield, Kabana.

Another staple of any trip North for me is also a decent curry. However, that's usually a staple of any trip anywhere for me, but I wasn't missing out this weekend.

We'd been recommended a place called Kabana, a Pakistani run place in town that did a special dish called a 'shield' or 'Tawa', which is basically a selection of your curries and starters on a metal sharing platter the size of a dustbin lid placed in the centre of the table, surrounded by breads. It looked amazing.


Sadly, Kabana was absolutely packed out and music was pumping out of it like a nightclub, and my parents really didn't fancy a raucous meal out. So we ended up going somewhere else instead that was ok but nothing special, which was a slight disappointment to end the weekend on.

Saying that, it didn't ruin what was a wonderful weekend with family in a pretty decent town full of cracking pubs. Seeing my mum so excited showing us where she grew up and hearing stories I never knew before, such as being arrested for underage drinking, their friend locking himself in an Italian Restaurant toilet all night, and my mum and dad being chased down the street by a restaurant owner with a meat cleaver.

I've decided not to share the finer details here, but if you go into the Head of Steam, The Sportsman or The Rat and Ratchet anytime soon, you'll probably find someone who overheard some of them.

Bye Huddersfield, it's been a blast.

With thanks to: Oli Fisher (@olifisher) and Keir Whiteside (@KeirWhiteside)

Next Up: Stoke City! March 12th

No. 88: Ricoh Arena [Coventry City]

Saturday, 13th February 2016
Coventry City v. Bury [League One] 6-0

I sent myself to Coventry this weekend.

I've always wondered why being sent to Coventry is meant to be so bad. Certainly, the city doesn't seem to have a very good reputation. When I asked on twitter for suggestions of things worth seeing in Coventry on my visit, I was told the road that leaves the place was a highlight.

As it happens, continuing a theme of being surprised at how nice most of the places I've visited on this 92 Club quest are, Coventry was surprisingly quite nice and, I think - unfairly maligned.

Coventry is probably best known for the fact the cathedral was destroyed in WW2 by Nazi bombing raids. So this was always going to be the main focus of my pre-match 'cultural' tour.

Driving into Coventry centre along the raised ring road, it's easy to see the effects today of the Coventry blitz, with so much post-war concrete dominating the skyline and so little remaining that pre-dates the air raids.

Coventry City Centre: Morning after 14th Nov raid.
(Photo By Taylor (Lt) from Imperial War Museum collection)

Coventry was targeted a number of times during the war, but in one night on 14th November 1940, over two-thirds of Coventry's buildings were damaged or destroyed in an intense bombardment by over 500 German bombers.

That night, 4,300 homes disappeared in the city, along with 568 lives and all but the shell of the old cathedral. The residential suburbs and the city centre have been re-built since, but the ruins of the old 14th century gothic cathedral remain in situ as the only real reminder of the blitz.

Inside the ruins of the old Coventry Cathedral.

A new, modern cathedral was commissioned shortly after the war and built in the 1950s right next to the existing shell of its medieval predecessor, the latter's shell now serving as a memorial garden to peace and reconciliation.

The old cathedral tower still stands in one corner of the ruins as the tallest structure in Coventry at 295ft - so I thought I might as well climb its 186 steps (yes I counted them) for a view of the city. There isn't much to see from up there to be honest, but it does give you an idea of how pretty much the whole of Coventry is a modern construct since the blitz.

Coventry Cathedrals: Old 14th Century Ruins to left, 20th Century rebuild to right.

The new cathedral is not overly striking from the outside, looking something like many 1950s modernist buildings, today's eyes may find the structure a little bland and sterile. But from within, the interior does look pretty impressive and is well worth stepping inside - especially to see the 195 panes of stained glass which make up the Bapistry window - which even this godless heathen found absolutely stunning as it caught and filtered the light outside.

New Cathedral Interior: Stunning.

Perhaps the most impressive bit of the new cathedral though is the Jacob Epstein sculpture mounted on the exterior wall near the entrance of St Michael's Victory over the Devil. From afar it's a striking depiction of a vanquished and chained fallen angel helpless at the feet of a triumphant St Michael.

But close up, I found out that it also gives you a chance for a cheeky gander at Beelzebub's impressive schlong.

Can you spot The Devil's Cock? It's there look, bottom right.

In the bowels of the old cathedral is also a lovingly put together Blitz Museum, featuring a mock up of 1940s Coventry life, including a school classroom, a 1940s kitchen and a recreation of a street dealing with an air raid.

The highlight of this museum is being guided around the various rooms and displays by volunteer residents of the city. On my visit the guides were the wonderful Barry Gittins and Ken Barber - two sprightly pensioners who were children of Coventry during the blitz, and had fascinating stories to tell.

Barry was the self-styled "Local lad with the gift of the gab" - and a visit to chat to these two fellers is highly recommended if you find yourself in Coventry with time on your hands.

Lady Godiva Statue: Broadgate Square. You can see her titties.

Other than a few remaining medieval streets around the Cathedral, everything is very much 20th Century. In Broadgate square just around the corner you can see the statue of Lady Godiva, who legend has it rode nude through the city on horseback. In the space of 20 minutes I'd seen a lady's boobs and the devil's cock in statue form. Honestly Coventry - that was quite enough culture for one day.

It was soon time to head of for some football, which entailed a 4 mile drive to the Northern suburbs of the city to the 10 year old Ricoh Arena.

Ricoh Arena Overview.

The impressive 32,000-seater Ricoh, with casino attached, was built in 2005 as a replacement for Coventry City's former Highfield Road home, originally operated by Arena Coventry Ltd (ACL), a company jointly owned by the City council and a charity, with the football club as happy tenants.

They didn't stay happy for long though - the stadium that the city built with the football club in mind was left empty following a protracted dispute over rent that saw The Sky Blues ground share at Northampton's Sixfields for over a year in 2013-14.

Coventry Fans Boycott at Northampton.

In that year away, most fans boycotted 'home' games in Northampton - for their first game there just 1,500 turned up, whilst at the same time, over 5,000 Sky Blues fans turned up to watch a charity game at the Ricoh instead. The crowds never really moved above the 1,500 mark during their time away from Coventry.

A miserable exile for the disgruntled Coventry fans ended in September 2014, with a return to the Ricoh in a two year deal that felt like a homecoming - 28,000 turned up at their first game back. Just a matter of months later, the stadium owners ACL sold up to Premiership rugby club Wasps, who are now Sky Blues' landlords.

What the future holds as tenants of a rugby club most fans aren't sure of. Certainly, the Wasps name is everywhere now around the ground and although there is a shop selling Wasps merchandise outside the ground, the CCFC club shop is relegated to a retail outlet next to Tesco, 10 minutes' walk from the ground.

But the seats in the Ricoh are still Sky Blue, and the ground is in Coventry, after all. So here's hoping the egg-chasers don't take the piss.

Jimmy Hill: Coventry Legend.

On top of some of those blue seats this afternoon in the empty North Stand was a large flag with Jimmy Hill on it. Football legend Jimmy died just before Christmas, and today Coventry City were dedicating to the memory of the man who made Sky Blues what they are.

Jimmy Hill had already having changed the sport by the time he retired as a player for his role in successfully lobbying for scrapping the maximum wage for players in 1961 whilst chairman of the PFA.

Hill's move into management at Coventry City was equally revolutionary. In what came to be known as The Sky Blue Revolution in fact, Hill changed the club's colours to Sky Blue, wrote a club song (still sung today by fans), pretty much invented the idea of a match programme being something more than a team sheet, and pioneered pre-match entertainment and the electronic scoreboard.

His revolution extended onto the pitch as well - Division 3 champions in 1964, and Division 2 champions in 1967. Hill then moved into broadcasting but having got Coventry into the top flight, they remained there as a testament to his legacy for 34 years until eventually relegation in 2001. It's no wonder he's so loved in these parts.

If that wasn't enough, he went back to Coventry as chairman in the late 70's and was instrumental in converting Highfield Road into the country's first all-seater stadium. Not so sure that was a good idea, but the man was clearly well ahead of his time and one of the great innovators - so I was delighted to be able to join in today with the round of applause for the great man's life.

Ricoh Arena: East Stand.

The game itself - well, it was pretty much all over 15 minutes after I took my seat in the packed East Stand, where the vast majority of the 11,000 crowd were housed. The actual sky above the Ricoh was more like a frosty and grim greyish white, but it was still very much a Sky Blue afternoon in Coventry.

Ten years ago I watched Joe Cole score an absolute screamer against Sweden in Cologne at the 2006 World Cup. Today he finds himself playing League One football at Coventry. He might be at the tail end of his career, but you could still argue he's playing beneath his natural level.

Coventry Celebrate Scoring a goal. I forget which one.

On the basis of this performance, I'd say he definitely is playing beneath his level. Dominating the game from the middle of the park, he ended up with 4 assists for the game, none of which wasn't a spectacular defence splitting ball that proved his class.

Coventry and Cole were simply too much for Bury on the day, the visitors perhaps struggling to find each other in one of the worst kits of the season - a colour I can only describe as "burnt grey". There was a public apology from Bury manager David Flitcroft after this performance. I hope whoever decided on this season's away kit will follow suit.

Seeing a stadium with over half the seats empty and a whole end of the ground unused is always a sad sight, and clearly no matter what the history of a club, you don't need 32,000 seats playing in the third tier.

Ricoh Arena: Main West Stand.

This ground was built for a side that expects Premiership football, and if they carry on like this afternoon they will be confident of taking a step back in that direction come the end of this season.

Coventry certainly is a unique place, and being sent here isn't actually as bad as you might be led to believe. Coventrians are certainly happy enough with their lot - as they sing about in the stands:

"In our Coventry homes, 
We speak with an accent exceedingly rare,
You want a cathedral we've got one to spare, 
In our Coventry homes..."

Lovely stuff.

Being Sent To Coventry is a bad thing?
Chinny reck on, mate.

NEXT UP: HUDDERSFIELD TOWN! (Feb 27th v. Ipswich)