NO ESCAPE FROM SLOUGH
Printed in the Southern Premier League Division game v St.Neots Town on Saturday 5th December 2015. We drew 2-2 in front of 280.
I
reckon if I got on a spaceship and landed on the Moon, I would bump into
someone from Slough. Forget Marsbars, the towns biggest export is
people. On the long train to the back of beyond, we arrived in the
seventies time-warp that is Kings Lynn. I wondered aloud if this was
the place you could hide from some hideous crime, where no one knew
your name or cared. Until we walked into a local boozer and someone
from Slough said he used to drink in the Wheatsheaf. FFS. Or 'its a
small world' as they say in polite society. My cover was blown, not
helped by my Rebels top and big amber and blue knitted mittens.
I
love the fact that football sends you to the far ends of the earth.
Too places you would never visit unless imprisoned or trying to
escape detection like Wroxham or AFC Croydon (just go round the back
of the crematory, down a windy old lane, you can't miss it). When I
was growing up I could map the British Isles with ease thanks to my
football knowledge. Maybe learning the football pyramid should be
part of the Geography syllabus.
Forget
the 92 league clubs. Pah! I reckon as I approach my 50th
year on this earth i've visited 200 grounds and I take great pleasure
in pointing out these places to my missus as we drive around the
country, as she pretends to be bored stiff. From Dover to Gateshead,
Truro to Boston, i've been there, done than and wiggled my Slough
Town bobble hat. In the case of Boston, got stuck behind a wedding
ceremony as we wound around country lanes and blew my air-horn so
loud, I think I might have killed a small dog and its elderly owner.
Some of these grounds are now unfortunately buried under housing and
supermarkets, but supermarkets are now in internet-shopping retreat
trying to offload their out of town stores. I look forward to the day
when one is knocked down and replaced with a non league football
ground.
A
sense of belonging means everything to fans, but not it seems to the
businessmen behind Whitehawk FC who have long been pining to ditch the name (and the ground) as they splashed the cash that has hoisted
them up the leagues. They tried Brighton City but for some reason
Brighton and Hove Albion weren't keen. The owners complaint that they
are different from the corporate Brighton don't quite ring true.
Both have been bankrolled by rich owners, but in Brighton's case they
have 26,000 supporters coming to their games, whereas Whitehawk are
lucky to get 200 in the Conference South. Sure, they have a dedicated
bunch of ultras but the Wealdstone raider chant still holds true –
'you've got no fans.' The Whitehawk owners blame this on the
reputation of the Brighton estate and no one knowing where it is, but
with their FA Cup antics i'm not sure the latter is true anymore. The
only trouble i've seen was years back in the FA Vase when some Truro
fans unwisely sang 'does your boyfriend know you're here.' They think
there is room for a second league club in the city but I think they
need to get real. I went to watch the Albion on Saturday on a
freebie, worth it because my eldest says he now supports the team of
his birth town rather than the Arsenal. They are heading for the
Premiership and that will attract even more supporters from across
Sussex. Shoreham's chairman, a club just a few miles down the road
admitting that their crowds drop by half when Brighton are at home.
If
they do become Brighton Town, I don't want to be in the same
situation I found myself in at Biggleswade. Wandering round their
market town centre before being drowned in another of Nigel's real
ale pubs, I spotted a stall run by Biggleswade football club. 'We are
playing you today' I said, offering the universal non league hand of
friendship, only to be told 'That's the other lot.' As they chased
me out of town with a pitchfork I cursed the fact that I should have
brushed up on my Geography syllabi, and seen that there was a
Biggleswade Town as well as United.
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