Wanderers v Old Rutlishians A

Mayfield Stadium

(home of AFC Croydon Athletic)

Surrey South Eastern League Junior Cup

(part of the club's triple bill)

October 24, 2015

Ground No 177

 

 

IT'S not often you can watch a team with such an illustrious history plying their trade so far down the pyramid that the peak is so far out of sight that even Sir Edmund Hillary would give up on reaching it.

But Wanderers are such a club. The original Wanderers lifted the first ever FA Cup and went on to win it a further four times.

Declining fortunes meant the club was dissolved in 1887 but in 2009, with the blessing of descendants of CW Alcock, funding father of the club and major mover and shaker in Victorian sport, Wanderers were reborn, with the aim of benefitting charitable causes.

They currently compete in the Surrey South Eastern Combination Junior Division Two and play their home matches at AFC Croydon Athletic's Mayfield Park stadium.

The landlords are a club with a tale or two to tell as well - forced under after the owner admitted he only bought the club for money-laundering purposes; the chairman found shot dead in a garage; forced into folding; revived by the fans; emotional return to their stadium which was refurbished after an arson attack on the clubhouse and travellers had set up camp on the pitch.

Wanderers joined Athletic at the Mayfield Stadium in November, although it seems no-one told the ref for the first of today's triple header of matches - he went to the club's former home in Dulwich, resulting in a delayed start and a club official taking charge for the first half.

That match was played on one of the outlying pitches and featured the A team as the club kicked off a packed programme, with all three of their men's teams - the firsts, the As and the reserves - playing at the same location on the same day.

Entry, as always for a Wanderers home game, was free, and the first XI match offered an opportunity to see a game a tidy little venue.

Centrepiece of the ground is a simple modern brick and steel stand with plastic seats situated in front of the changes and a spacious clubhouse.

To the left is a shallow area of covered hard standing with a few concrete steps behind the goal, opposite are a couple more covered areas and the hard standing continued around behind the other goal. There's also some terracing either side of the stand.

Wanderers have a small fan base but they've made great strides since their reformation, did an admiral job of publicising their triple bill event and produced an excellent eight-page programme with some good reading for a quid. Good on them.

I'd also like to return to the Mayfield to see Athletic. With a bigger crowd, the tea bar open and an a bit of matchday atmosphere, I can imagine it would be a great place to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Clapton v Ilford

Old Spotted Dog Ground

Essex Senior League

October 10, 2015

Ground No 176

CLAPTON FC: Part football club, part bitter power struggle, part socio-political rabble-rousing, tub-thumping, conscience-pricking hub of community activism.

The word "unique" is over-used but there surely can't be another club like this anywhere. And I genuinely don't know if I'll ever enjoy a matchday as much as this, anywhere.

The afternoon started with a delicious Swahili meal in a Kenyan café then a pint in the Red House, around the corner.

The Red House (built in 1717, redeveloped in the 1870s is a beautiful old building now occupied by St Antony's Catholic Club. Save for the blackboard outside declaring 'Come in in for a drink' you would never in a million years guess this was a pre-match drinking hole.

In it we met a member of 'the Real Clapton FC' and, for a small donation, acquired a couple of their alternative matchday programmes (which turned out to be far better than the official ones - plenty more to read, with spot colour. Oh and the official versions, basically a black and white photocopy, had Clapton v Newham on the front and the Takeley squad where the Ilford players should have been listed).

Basically the 'Real Clapton' fans hate the bloke in charge of the club. They believe he conned his way into power, which he refutes, and that the make-up of the club under his ownership is not bona fide, So they've formed their own members' club and committee and consider themselves to be the, well, real Clapton FC.

The fans are also very, very much against fascists and bigots. The unofficial programmes proudly proclaim 'No place for homophobia, fascism, racism, sexism" and the hardcore Clapton Ultras have a proud recent history of encouraging social inclusion, welcoming and helping refugees and standing up to far right idiots.

So very, very much not your average Essex Senior League club then,

This being Non-league Day both the club and the fans offered their own incentives to fans - the former by way of free entry to OAPs and under-18s; drinks offers and a free raffle to win season tickets; the latter by paying entrance fees for fans who were unemployed, on benefits, refugees or asylum-seekers.

And sure enough a big crowd turned up - a whopping 761 to be precise, the second biggest attendance ever for an Essex Senior League match.

There's absolutely no clue whatsoever that you're about to enter a football arena as you approach the Old Spotted Dog Ground. Even the historic old pub that gave its name to the ground is closed and boarded up now.

Entrance is along a passageway next to the old pub, past the fans' merchandise stall (antifascista scarves £8  - a fiver if you're unwaged)then through one of two turnstiles - which were kept clicking until near on half-time due to the large number of fans queuing to get in.

It's fair to say this is a ramshackle old ground - a basic one at that. No Tannoy, small, unkempt and seemingly uncared for too. I'd seen someone describe the pitch as "like playing on egg boxes" and you could see where they were coming from.

If it really was a spotted dog it would probably have been carted off to the vet and put to sleep well before now. But like a well-loved, if aging, family pet, we're glad it's still there to lavish our love and affection on.

To the right as you enter is the clubhouse with a small strip of concrete in front.

Along the side is mainly hard-standing except for a small, squat modern stand with seven rows of plastic seating overlooking the halfway life and behind the goal is more hard-standing but with a grass bank behind and three steps of terracing in the middle - this being home to Casuals who provided the half-time entertainment by way of setting off flares.

But it's the far side that provides the beating heart of this vibrant, energetic club. That's where the Ultras stand, sing and cheer, bringing a fervency and passion simply unheard of in the Essex Senior League.

Young people, male and female, in their hundreds nor just enjoying a step-five non-league football match but creating a lively, passionate atmosphere. Incredible. Far from your usual non-league demographic.

The hub of it all was the small scaffold stand where the Scaffold Brigada beat the drum - literally and metaphorically - for the things that mattered most to them.

BYO cans in hand (and singing 'We are recycling' as they diligently cleared up afterwards) the Ultras sang, chanted and danced their way through the afternoon. Where else in the country would you hear hundreds of voices (and there must have been at least 400 fans along that side) chanting 'Alerta, altera, antifascista'?

You can argue that much of the Ultras' passionate proclamations have nothing to do with football. But if football clubs are supposed to be at the heart of their community, the voice of that community has a right to be heard.

There were flares, flags and banners (two unfurled from the roof of the scaffold stand ad half-time, one proclaiming 'refugees welcome') too and it didn't stop on the final whistle either.

I've never witnessed anything like this before, but at the end of the game both teams walked over to face the Ultras. After mutual applause and hand-shaking I thought that would be it. Oh no!

The Ultras sang their hearts out as the players stood and showed their appreciation. At one point everyone in the crowd crouched down, remaining silent as they did so... and the players did too! Then they all leapt to their feet again, bursting back into full lung-bursting voice and waving their arms as they did so.

If I hadn't been there myself I'd have been convinced that that an afternoon like this could never happen. But it did because I was there.

Ebbsfleet Utd v Maidstone Utd

Stonebridge Road

National League South

October 3, 2015

Ground No 175

 

 

DOES someone have a gigantic specimen jar full of industrial strength pickling liquid, big enough to fit a football ground in?

You do? Then get in down to north Kent, pop Stonebridge Road in it and preserve it for all eternity - because this is exactly what a football ground should look and feel like.

There was a time when a matchday experience was like this at traditional grounds over the country and more is the pity that football venues such as Stonebridge Road are becoming increasingly few and far between.

I'm not going to rant on about soulless modern concrete bowls or propose a blanket ban on progress but I'm sure you know what I mean.

Wide open terraces - to which you can even take your fresh from the barrel pint of Palaeolithic ale - a proud old wooden stand, and the feeling that if this ground was a person it would be your elderly, yet wise, Uncle Alf who could regale you all day with stories and anecdotes from through the decades.

There are bold plans to modernise Stonebridge Road and the new-look stadium will be a striking structure by the look of it. But to the discerning visitor of football grounds it's like knocking down the Houses of Parliament to build The Shard.

After  parking at Ebbsfleet station, the stadium is a short walk away, situated just across the road from a café proudly trumpeting its speciality, the full Engllish breakfast. I'm sure it's llovelly.

With a big crowd taking advantage of the unseasonally warm weather as table-topping Fleet entertained their Kent rivals, the sizeable social club just the other side of the turnstiles was doing a roaring trade. The Wadsworth Old Rucker had sold out about half an hour before kick-off but fortunately there were a couple of barrels from the nearby Caveman Brewery and accompanying bar staff to ensure we didn't go thirsty.

And if you need to, you know, relieve yourself of said liquid intake during the match, you needn't miss any of the action - the eye level slits in the loo walls mean you can watch the action while you wee. Genius. I was going to take a photo must there's something intrinsically wrong about whipping out your camera and taking pictures in a crowed toilet.

The ground itself reminded me of Leyton Orient's Brisbane Road ground before areas of it were redeveloped.

There's a grand old all-seat stand on one side, an open terrace to the right - home to large and vocal visiting fans today - and a covered area to the left, this one a seated enclosure since 2006 but previously terraced, and opposite is a big, covered terrace.

Maidstone ended Fleet's unbeaten league record for the season so the home fans went home very much deflated. To be fair, the game wasn't a classic. But I went home buzzing in the knowledge that not only do grounds like this still exist, but that I'd just seen a game at one. I hope it's still like this next time I visit.