WEYMOUTH HOLIDAYS AND A TRIP FOR A BALTI

 

Printed in the National League South game v Weymouth Saturday 30th August 2024 We won 1-0 in front of 889 to stay top of the league and go ONE YEAR WITHOUT LOSING AT HOME !

This is a tale of our first away day of the season, the first supporters run club in the country and a football team in Weymouth named after a curry house.

First up was Salisbury, a newly promoted club who should have beaten us in the FA Cup last season if it wasn’t for the heroics of our Cardiff loanee goalkeeper at the time.

Now I love an away day on the train but it seems train companies are doing their best to suck any joy out of travelling. ‘Success Starts Here’ read the sign as I trundled past Havant. Well, not for their lovely football team. Miss you already. But I did miss the early Saturday morning phone call from Kieran Wall asking where I was. When I got on at Southampton it was already the Sardine Express. By the time I got off at Salisbury, another 100 or so wanted to join a train busting at the seams, that would have been totally illegal if it was a building. 

So please don’t tell me about the perils of the old British Rail– our train services have already been nationalised, they are just owned by other countries rather than our own. How very patriotic. And passengers just seem an annoyance.

Even our train stations are crap – Farnham has a great independent cafe but cash only but no cash machine nearby. I remember sitting here one freezing New Years Day after a boring 0-0 draw with Salisbury. Happy Chattering Teeth New Year and all that. Southampton Central can’t cope – all the usual boring corporate brands selling weak coffee and stale croissants with massive queues for the toilets.

This journey did give me the fear when travelling with family and friends to Weymouth but to be fair the midweek journeys seem so much better.

Salisbury is a really friendly club but they’ve got a group of scumbags who’ve swallowed a Premier League songbook and a limited vocabulary swear-book. Often in situations like that, you can launch the odd song that makes others laugh and clears the air – ‘We discovered Uranus’ we sang, ‘Your just a bus stop near Stonehenge’ we joked but they kept up with their Neanderthal growling. Our supporters deserve medals for some serious restraint. A few kept offering me out, despite telling them thanks but i'm already married. The Supporters Trust quite rightly wrote a letter of complaint and its’ going to have to be segregation for that club from now on unless they show the door to a few individuals.

The ground is a good bus ride away past Old Sarum, which used to the original town, until the religious orders gave permission to relocate the cathedral to New Sarum – which eventually became Salisbury.

They wouldn’t allow a drum as the ground is slowly being surrounded by houses with some neighbours having the audacity to complain about football noise! We really need the law they have in France that says if you move to the countryside and start complaining about animal sounds or smells you are told where to go. Or in Brighton where music venues are getting protection from people who move next door then say its too loud. At the end of the game me, Wootton Bassett Steve and Ian the Shirt managed to hitch a ride back to New Sarum from one of their nice officials and drown our loss with a few beers with more friendly locals.

I missed the Enfield game cos rather ironically I was on holiday in Weymouth. A Weymouth we choose after many a visit watching the Rebels. So come on Slough the Town, smarten yourselves up – having a National League team is the perfect way to show off your wares. Canal boat tours to the ground anyone?

I’ve got a lot of time for Enfield, who we used to have some real ding-dong battles against in the old Isthmian League. They became the first supporters run football club in the country and deserve a hell of a lot of respect for that. I’ve not visited their art deco new home yet but that will have to wait another season. Everyone praised what a friendly club they were despite us leaving with a 6-1 away victory. What a time to miss an away trip made slightly better by hearing of countless Slough fans missing three late first half goals cos they went to the bar!

Still I wasn’t going without my football fix so I scrolled the local paper for some football - £18 to watch Weymouth play Chippenham – no thanks. Instead it was time for a Balti to ease the Rebel withdrawal symptoms; Balti Sports v Bridport Town Reserves in the Dorset Premier League. Or Division 11 in the footballing pyramid which is a league made up of 16 teams, half of which seem to be called Sports and the rest reserve sides.

Balti Sport are you guessed it, named after a curry house, which used to sponsor them when they formed in 2005. They play at Weymouth College who won’t pay for floodlights. I assume they won’t pay for electricity either to light up their cosy clubhouse – well more dentist waiting room, which serves hot drinks and also acts as turnstile as I parted with my £4. There’s a small stand and a wobbly iron perimeter fence that for some reason had a plastic bobbing owl tied to it. The match was slightly delayed cos they needed a goal peg but the thirty or so spectators were treated to a decent first half and it ended 5-2 to the curry boys.

The early kick off meant I scurried back to listen to Rebels Radio with special guess Lenchy enjoying our biggest away league victory for some time. Now where did I put that poppadom.

LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR

 

Printed in the National League South game v Hornchurch Saturday 24th August 2024  We won 2-1 in front of 744

And it so it begins. Another season supporting the Slough.  Absolutely buzzing as they like to say. 42 years with the odd spell missing in action because of poverty, politics and falling out of love with football. 

The Elizabeth Line - which has apparently made Slough a Go to Live destination - was up the spout so it was back to the tourist hell of Victoria and Paddington where people are catapulted towards you at they dash around the globe looking for something. The fast train arrived at Platform 5 and I found my something. Welcome to Slough although disappointingly Station Jim wasn’t around as he was getting a grooming. Probably needed after 130 years.

First stop curry. Now some people have bemoaned the state of the high street and they would be right. I was around when they pedestrianised (a good thing) but made it all grey stone (a bad thing). Should have gone with amber and blue to brighten it up. Now the Queensmere is half closed and shops lay empty. It’s certainly not a Go To shopping destination.

The perfect start to my footballing day is finding a cafe then a rough as you like boozer and sitting there listening, scribbling down stories. In Slough I’ve found my favourite breakfast stop – RKM cafe with home made curry and sizzling paratha bread straight from the pan to my plate for just £7. Perfect.

There’s an older guy who sits in the cafe – he often asks about the Rebels, but says he’s too busy to go, even tho he always seems to be sitting in the cafe with his mate listening to his phone very loud. This week he was screaming at some programme on his phone until some old lady told him to turn it down. Gogglebox - I think I have found you a contender. I once heard the Asian owner bemoaning to him the fact that lots of 70’s comedy like Love Thy Neighbour can’t be shown anymore. Political correctness or whatever gone mad, he lamented. I reckon we should hand him, his mate and the owner and his family some free tickets and match day posters.

Next up was the Wheatsheaf where the lone punter told me he should go and watch Slough to get away from his family. Which is certainly one marketing method. The Wheatsheaf has always been a Slough Town pub. It used to organise away day coaches and I think its community feel and supporting lower league football go hand in hand. The new owners promise new energy, more music, food and a greater alignment with the club whose scarfs and tops already adorn the pub. But this being Slough one building by the garden is now a pile of rubble with a huge metal pole seemingly holding its former neighbour up; the house next door – well it doesn’t have a door anymore and looks like a tornados hit it; while a man often sleeps in the tree opposite the pub. The gem of Herschel Park is across the road and over the years plenty of people have got together and made it there mission to expanded and rejuvenate this Grade II listed park. Lucy the Nurse’s dad Keith Tebbit was heavily involved, and my mate Derwins ashes were scattered there last week under the impressive monkey puzzle tree – a tree which would even pose a problem for the man who sleeps up a tree.

When I lived in Alpha Street, I loved learning about Herschel Park and Upton-cum-Chalvey. There was a massive ramshackle old house with an overgrown garden, that we of course told ourselves was haunted. Infact I love learning about history, not to indulge in some rose tinted view of a past that never existed but to try and understand it.

Because you can learn a lot from studying history. A while back I picked up a random football book about someone I’d never heard of. Bela Guttmann was the first superstar football coach. He was Jewish and the book weaves in his footballing genius with the relentless persecution of Jews across Europe. He escaped Hungry and survived a Nazi slave labour camp. His family did not. He coached in ten countries from 1933 to 1974 and won ten national championships pioneering the 4-2-4 formation, but most notably back to back European Cups with Benfica.

My missus is Jewish and her family were terrified of the anti immigration protests promised in Brighton. In the end just 5 protestors turned up surrounded by 2,0000 people who didn’t want them in the city. When I see some of the language – often from the tabloid press – I think about books like Guttmann and wonder what has really changed and where does it all end up? I really recommend reading it, especially considering what’s happening at the moment.

And here’s the rub. I'm not going to fight you cos you support a different team, although I might laugh at you if you support MK Dons. I don’t care who you are, what you look like, where your from. Life is a melting pot of people. And if you’re alright, you’re alright. We can either shake our fists angrily and reminisce about a time that never really existed. Or we can fight for more places like the Indian cafe, the Wheatsheaf, Herschel Park and Slough Town that all bring people together. #OneSlough, Love Thy Neighbour and all that. It’s definitely much more fun.

AND AFTER ALL, YOU’RE OUR KIERAN WALL

Printed in the National League South game v Chelmsford City. Saturday 10th August. First game of the season. Won 2-1 in front of 859

One of the strange things about football is that for 9 months of the year you are almost wed to the same people then - especially if you don't live locally - they fall off a cliff.

Still, who couldn't be excited about the new season - not just for the football but the frenzy of activity that has been happening at Arbour Park after a 50 year lease was signed and the place became ours. We've now got enough bars to have a pub crawl around the ground and have tripled the number in a town that seems to take pleasure in closing watering holes.

But the new season is also tinged with sadness. How we are all going to miss Kieran Wall who dies much to young but was given as you would expect a Slough Town state funeral. 

We’ve all got so many Slough Town stories to tell about Kieran we could publish a book. Let’s call it ‘Tales from the Wonder Wall.’

I could begin with the first time he met my missus on the beach at Weymouth. I only went to get ice creams for the family but in that time he had asked her to marry him.

I can picture Dean and Kieran struggling back after an epic day watching Slough draw with Sutton in the FA Cup. Like a Laurel and Hardy Tribute Act they were in no fit state to get the train - especially with Deans navigational skills - so we managed to find a car to bundle them back home with the passenger shouting at them not to wee on the seats!

Or turning up at trendy Dulwich Hamlet as a fashion car crash and showing up the Slough fans as more hip replacement than hipster.

I went away with him first time Slough played at Torquay. After going out for a meal then a few beers he complained of exhaustion and hunger and got a taxi and a kebab. The taxi drove all of 5 seconds before dropping us off at our hotel and he woke up next to the kebab. Probably not the holiday romance he was hoping for.

Everyone got a bit over excited the first time we played Eastbourne. Slough scored from the half way line, Bill lost his teeth down the toilet and Dean found his hotel but decided to sleep in his car instead. He had booked the honeymoon suite for him and Kieran who slept like a baby unaware his mate was stranded outside.

Being in our favourite Indian restaurant with Kieran occasionally waking up and singing ‘Oh Jeremy Corbyn’. That went down well. Clubshop Sue constantly telling him off but Kieran just answering back I love you Sue and then always taking half an hour to get out of the car when her and Aiden dropped him off home.

Kieran was a kind and generous man. He loved his daughters, he loved his football and he loved his music especially Steve Harley who he must have seen a hundred times. Ironically tho he didn’t like Oasis. He had his demons but that didn’t make him bitter or resentful. He was political but even if he didn’t agree with your views that wouldn’t stop him calling you a friend. Mind you it certainly made his point, dressing up in a German army uniform when Nigel Farage visited the Jolly Londoner in Britwell.

It’s really not going to be the same without him on the terraces.

Slough has lost a legendary fan - I don’t think there are many supporters of any club across the country who have their very own song. But most of all we have all lost a very good mate who made us laugh, sometimes made us pull our hair out, but always someone you would want to be around.

So let’s sing a song or two for Kieran today – and for other Rebels no longer with us.

As he used to love to say – ‘We come in peace’ but Kieran my friend - you’ve left us in pieces.