Richard Walden 1948-2009

Richard Walden died on November 17th after a long battle with leukaemia.

Richard was a ‘local boy’ who would regularly watch the Shots before signing for them on schoolboy terms in the early ‘60s. He made his first team debut against Oxford Utd in 1965, aged just 16.

And I guess for the many supporters ‘young enough’ to remember the last 50 years, the greatest player to appear in an Aldershot shirt would be Jack Howarth, but ‘the best ever’ player?….Richard Walden.

Richard Walden pictured next to Jack Howarth, on the beach at Southport before the FA Cup 3rd round match with Liverpool in 1971.

Somerton Park, Newport was home to Newport County for 77 years….and then in February 1989 the club went ‘bust’.

The eccentric old ground had seen many highs and lows, the most notable being the Welsh Cup and Fourth Division promotion triumph in 1980, the European Cup Winners Cup quarter-final appearance in 1981….and of course not forgetting the greyhound racing, speedway and Aldershot’s brilliant 4v3 victory on December 27th 1969.

Newport County came back to life in 1989 playing in ‘exile’ until 1994. And Somerton Park hosted it’s last game in 1993 before it was finally covered by a housing estate.









Richard Walden scored for Aldershot in the 4v3 win over the County in 1969, played for Newport in the Cup Winners Cup campaign…..and he took part in the final match to staged at Somerton Park on June 22nd 1993.

Undoubtedly he was the best ever Shots player, and at the age of 45 Richard was still head and shoulders above the many ‘past and present’ Welsh Internationals who played in that last Somerton Park game.


Richard was a beautiful footballer who made nearly 450 appearances for the Shots, 100 for Sheffield Wednesday and approaching 200 for Newport County.


But above all…..he was a charming and genuine man.

Images from Tranmere....

FA Cup 2nd Round, Saturday 28th November 2009

Tranmere Rovers 0 v 0 Aldershot Town

The replay will be held at the Recreation Ground, Aldershot on Tuesday 8th December, kick off 7.45pm.

Time can be a great healer......

Just over a month ago fellow Shots supporter, Victoria Rogers, posted her thoughts on the sudden departure of our manager and coach to Wycombe Wanderers. And I have to say she sounded a bit down at the time ( see ‘It's a funny old game' - October 21st 2009).

So how is she feeling now?…..

A week is a long time in politics…

Harold Wilson once said that a week is a long time in politics.

And I’m sure like all politicians, he was thinking of his own survival when he passed the comment in the lobby at Westminster. But if he was concerned about just seven days let me say that a month in football can feel like a lifetime.

Yes, a month ago I sat at my computer and attempted to work through my feelings over the somewhat abrupt departure to Wycombe Wanderers of our manager, Gary Waddock and coach Martin Kuhl.

At the time it was hard to know how I felt. Surely sensible adults shouldn’t get worked up over things like football. Or should they, given that the majority of Shots fans felt betrayed and let down, however irrational that might seem now. And I was one of the majority..

But as the days became a week and the weeks turned into a month I have discovered the truth in another well-worn saying; time can be a great healer. A healing process that required me to experience a rollercoaster of emotions through the employment of a ‘caretaker’ management team, new acting chairman and the secrecy of the ‘new manager interviews’.

So a fairly quiet month really!

Then mixed in with all the off-field activity has been progress to the second round of the FA Cup, a couple of useful league points and, most surprisingly of all, three clean sheets. Yes no goals conceded. A pretty rare commodity in the free-scoring Waddock days. And didn’t we all celebrate the miserly reformation.

Meanwhile, Gary Waddock has struggled to get to grips with a shell-shocked Wycombe team, who are leaking goals through the spectacularly large sieve that parades as his ‘back four’….adding ‘schadenfreude’ to the dictionary of some still-enraged Aldershot fans.

I suppose none of this really proves anything, but after a period of uncomfortable turbulence perhaps we are now heading into calmer waters. The appointment of new manager Kevin Dillon gives us all something positive to focus on. An appointment that has returned us full circle.

Once again we are a team with a manager and coach. And all of this in just about the space of a month. I have no idea where the next few weeks will take us, but I do know that I’m going to be hanging on for the ride.

So what were we all panicking about? I’ve no idea!

Who needs a long week when a month can deliver such unexpected events.


Victoria Rogers – 17th November 2009

And following on from Victoria’s thoughts Aldershot secured a 0v0 draw at Notts County, a 2v1 win at home against Northampton Town……and another 0v0 draw away to Tranmere in the 2nd round of the FA Cup….

The Recreation Ground as winter approaches......

In Loving Memory

I guess for most people of my age who were born within touching distance of the Royal Aircraft Establishment, Farnborough, childhood family memories will always be mixed with images of the annual Air Display…..the Fairey Rotodyne, Handley-Page 115, the incomparable Lightning and the seismic aftershock of the Avro Vulcan.

And I’m sure my great-uncle Charles was beguiled in a similar way by the first aeroplane flight in Britain – it was from Laffan’s Plain, Farnborough. Yes, Charles was just 12 years of age when Samuel Cody made that first powered flight of 424 metres, on October 16th 1908.

Cody was a pretty colourful character. He was a Texan, who began life as a cowboy and an actor….a friend of ‘Buffalo Bill’ Cody. And his goatee beard topped by a waxed moustache, providing a 12-inch span, was more than enough to ‘hook’ Charles.

Family businesses in Staines, Camberley and Aldershot meant that young Charles was lucky enough to be able to spend most weekends and holidays mixing with the early aviators.

Then World War I broke out by accident. No European government wanted a general war, but most of the European powers preferred to fight rather than back down in the face of diplomatic provocation from their rivals.

The spark which provided the excuse to set the armies marching was the assassination of the heir to the Austrian throne, in the summer of 1914.

Austria immediately accused Serbia of instigating the murders and issued an ultimatum, whereupon Russia declared her support of Serbia. Once the Russians ordered general mobilization (and they 'had to' because they needed more time to move their forces to the frontiers then their enemies) - Austrian, French, and German mobilization orders followed in quick succession, each triggered by the other.

Between August 1914 and the introduction of the first Military Service Act three million men volunteered for military service.

On the 26th November 1914, with Heart of Midlothian comfortably leading the Scottish First Division, sixteen players exchanged their football boots for Army Issue. They enlisted to fight in France, inspiring many others to do the same.

Seven members of the Hearts team were killed.

Another, Paddy Crossan, was so badly injured that his right leg was labelled for amputation. He pleaded with the German surgeon, ‘I need my leg - I’m a footballer.’ His leg was saved but he died after the war from the effects of poison gas, which had destroyed his lungs.

With popular and mainstream political opposition to mandatory military service, Britain was the sole major European power not to have in place a policy of conscription when war began in August 1914. And despite Winston Churchill being an early advocate of introducing a form of conscription, it wasn’t until January 1916 that the British Government introduced the first of a series of Military Service Acts, which set out call-up regulations.

So when the letter finally dropped on the door mat and teenager Charles was called up, the subsequent question was an easy one to answer.

"Yes, I would like to join the Royal Flying Corps, thank you Sir. I have plenty of experience moving planes and I 'knew' Sam Cody".

In October 1917 great-uncle Charles was commissioned as a flying officer.

Lieut CR Tolley served operationally in France in 1918 with 65 Squadron bringing down a number of Fokker D VII’s……

‘Fearless, keen and joyous he revelled in the work, and was soon known as one of the most daring pilots in the 65th Flying Squadron’.

He remained on active service right up to the end of the Great War, when he was transferred to the Home Establishment, and posted to the Beaulieu Aerodrome, near Southampton.

Tragically Charles was killed in a flying accident in April 1919……aged just 22.

RETURNING, WE HEAR THE LARKS by ISAAC ROSENBERG

Sombre the night is.
And though we have our lives, we know
What sinister threat lies there.

Dragging these anguished limbs, we only know
This poison-blasted track opens on our camp -
On a little safe sleep.

But hark! joy - joy - strange joy.
Lo! heights of night ringing with unseen larks.
Music showering our upturned list’ning faces.

Death could drop from the dark
As easily as song -
But song only dropped,
Like a blind man’s dreams on the sand
By dangerous tides,
Like a girl’s dark hair for she dreams no ruin lies there,
Or her kisses where a serpent hides.

Trust.....

It was November 1938 and manager Bill McCracken prepared Aldershot for their FA Cup first round match with local rivals Guildford City…………

The Southern League in the 1930’s was an exotic mix of Football League club reserve sides, like Millwall and Norwich and full-time professional non-League teams like Guildford City.

And I have no doubt that when Aldershot FC were elected to the League in 1932 the club felt pretty superior to their Surrey neighbours. A feeling that was nurtured when they maintained their Southern League status, fielding the second team in all fixtures.

Then as chance would have it, the two clubs met the weekend before the FA Cup tie – with Guildford easily winning the Southern League fixture 4v2.

But the FA Cup is special and I’m confident that not one person in the 11561 crowd that packed the Recreation Ground, Aldershot, on a bitterly cold November day, gave a moment’s thought to the events that had occurred just a couple of months earlier.

Had it really been two months since Neville Chamberlain returned to Heston Aerodrome from Munich and his meeting with Adolph Hitler. Two months since the Prime Minister had stepped down from his plane holding a piece of paper, signed by both Hitler and himself. A piece of paper that set out a comforting resolution to commit to peaceful methods in an attempt to overcome Hitler’s successive assaults on the restrictions placed on Germany by the Treaty of Versailles.

Chamberlain returned to Downing Street in triumph. The streets were so packed with cheering people that he took an hour and a half to journey the nine miles from Heston to Buckingham Palace and then onwards to Downing Street.

"Go on Neville, go up to the window and say ‘peace in our time’"

"My good friends this is the second time there has come back from Germany to Downing Street peace with honour. I believe it is peace for our time. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Now I recommend you go home, and sleep quietly in your beds."

The fans packed into the North Stand on Saturday November 26th were reassured, and their minds could be totally focused on centre forward, Cecil Ray. Yes, the Prime Minister had said that everything would be ok…….

‘Guildford put themselves on the Soccer map by drawing at Aldershot. The tie had been the only topic of conversation down Guildford way and the day of the replay will be somewhat in the nature of a Bank Holiday in the town.

Aldershot placed third in the Third Division (South) table, sustained shock after shock from Guildford’s lively forwards, and their defence was worried incessantly’.

The final score 1v1…..

The replay on the following Wednesday was a high scoring affair. Two goals in the first ten minutes, one of them a gift, placed Aldershot on the road to victory. And after the 4v3 defeat Mr Haydn Green, Guildford’s manager was disappointed, but his eyes lit up when he was told the crowd was 9932, a record.



Aldershot lost in the second round 3v1 at Runcorn……





October hasn’t been a great month for the Shots. Winning one game and securing a draw at Rotherham was never going to be enough to maintain the feeling of optimism that I had developed in September. If losing to Lincoln, Bury and Shrewsbury was bad…..then losing both manager and coach to Wycombe Wanderers mid-month, was very bad..

A quick stock take shows that we have taken just 5 points from the last 6 games. We have not had a Chairman since the death of John McGinty in August. Two Directors resigned in the week leading up to last Saturday’s game with Rotherham. And a manager is still to be appointed.

The recent boardroom exodus, and shock departure of manager Waddock and first team coach Kuhl has prompted comment that the Shots are suffering a cash crisis.

So as Aldershot prepare for Saturday’s FA Cup first round home tie with Bury ‘I sleep quietly in my bed’ reassured by the remarks from Shots director Simon Groves, reported in today’s ‘The League Paper’.

‘It’s very, very sad to hear these falsehoods and I won’t dignify them in a lengthy response’.

Don’t let me down Simon because I have confidence in you and that piece of paper you hold ……

Images from Shrewsbury......

Shrewsbury Town 3 v Aldershot Town 1

‘It’s a funny old game’.....

Sunderland’s winning goal on Saturday was awarded by the referee despite the match ball colliding with a beach ball, introduced to the field of play by a Liverpool supporter…..keep your head down for a couple of days young man.

And if getting sacked by Tranmere Rovers on October 9th was bad news for John Barnes then how did he feel when he filed for bankruptcy only five days later?

My advice John, is to use the well crafted approach displayed by former home secretary Jacqui Smith. She ‘got away with it’ by making a brief apology to MPs after she was criticised by a Commons committee for using the second home allowance to fund her family home.

She also apologised "unreservedly" for wrongly claiming for the cost of films watched at her family address, including two pornographic films seen by her husband.

Although I have to say I’m still not convinced by her defence that the parliamentary system approves of her action. In fact I would like to know where she keeps her collection of Redditch United FC programmes. The Reds are not having a great season in the Blue Square North, in fact they look a good bet for ‘the drop’…..……but if Jacqui keeps her collection, that no doubt dates back to 1891/2, in her London ‘box room’ then she is truly ‘innocent’.

October 9th wasn’t a great day for League managers. As Peter Taylor joined John Barnes in the ranks of the unemployed, when he parted company with Wycombe Wanderers.

But did we care at Aldershot Town?

No, certainly not on the following day when the Shots climbed to 6th place in League 2, following a 4v1 home win over Morecambe.

But then it happened……Gary Waddock resigned.

Despite the news coming as a bit of a shock I'm not so sure it will prove to be Gary's best ever career move. At the age of 47 he certainly can't be considered a 'good young manager'- 36 year old Roberto Martinez, Wigan Athletic, is a 'good young manager'. No, Gary is almost the same age as Liverpool boss Rafael Benitez, and his future doesn't look too good at the moment.

A few weeks ago I was approached by a Shots fan who wanted to share her feelings about our Club with a much wider audience than just husband and son.

Waddock’s move to Wycombe Wanderers, accompanied by the loss of coach, Martin Kuhl inspired Victoria Rogers to write the following……

‘Gary has gone…..yes, he’s gone to Wycombe…’

Music has always been the background to my life. The many years of LP, cassette and CD purchasing has left me with a huge selection of popular songs that suit just about every occasion. But when I feel the need to start listening to the melancholic musings of The Verve, I know that something is not quite right in my life.

And so it was when I got into my car, on Wednesday October 14th 2009, and realised that only the words of ‘Bitter Sweet Symphony’ and ‘The Drugs Don’t Work’ were going to match my mood.

But why was this?

Simple.

Because Tuesday had been an angst-filled, tension-filled, frustration-filled and ultimately, a sadness-filled day. A day when it became slowly and inevitably apparent that, manager, Gary Waddock was going to leave Aldershot Town - after only two years in charge. Yes, he was going to leave at a time when our form and league position could not be better. Well, perhaps our defence could tighten up a little bit.

The bad news had started to surface on Monday when various postings on the Shotsweb message board suggested that Gary might be moving on to Wycombe Wanderers, to replace their recently-sacked manager, Peter Taylor.

With no formal announcement by the end of that day we were all hopeful that it was, just a rumour.

Sadly though, when I ‘logged on’ to Shotsweb on Tuesday lunchtime, things were really hurrying on at a considerable pace. Oh how I wanted to read that it was no more than a cruel hoax. But there they were. Posts supporting the ‘fact’ that Gary was to leave – and from people in whose opinions I had trust.

From then on it was no more than a long and anxious afternoon, waiting for the inevitable. And it duly arrived, early evening, in the form of a text message from the Aldershot Town Shotsonline service.

Will I always remember where I was at 7.16pm on October 13th?

Possibly not. This wasn’t a death, birth or marriage.

But as my phone squawked into life a feeling of relief flowed through my veins as the pain of uncertainty was over. I relayed the information of Messrs Waddock and Kuhl’s departure to my Shots-supporting husband and son. Then, in a family show of solidarity, we gathered around the computer and listened to Gary’s final interview with Graham Brookland on ‘Shotsonline’.

The rest of the evening was spent in various states of emotion. We tried the ‘elephant in the room’ approach, where we tried not to talk about it- but this just led to long periods of silence. Then we tried discussing it, so that we could perhaps rationalise the events - this was not madly successful either as there was quite a lot of distress, frustration, disappointment and anger pretty close to the surface.

Yes, we were all Shots fans, so nobody could to tell us that it didn’t matter, ‘it’s only a game’…


However, night follows day and day follows night. And here I am just 24 hours after the event, searching out my Verve albums. For now it does all seem like a ‘Bitter Sweet Symphony’ and a bit of time may need to pass before I wish that Gary Waddock is a ‘Lucky Man’.

I will move on though. No doubt as we all will. But just for a while, and as I start my recovery process, I will wrap myself up with the sounds of a band who at times sound even more down than I am at the moment.

But then they are from Wigan.

‘Gary has gone….yes, he’s gone to Wycombe’.

-Victoria Rogers, October 14th 2009

The greatest goal.....

The 1966/7 season was like so many others. Excellent home form. Pretty dismal away form. And a final League Division 4 position of tenth.

Jack Howarth had joined the Shots at the beginning of the previous season, scoring his first goal in only his second outing. The first of 171 League and a further 25 cup goals.

After disposing of Torquay United on November 26th in the first round of the FA Cup Aldershot were paired with arch rivals Reading in round two. The game was set for Saturday January 7th, but as the insert to the match day programme confirmed, ‘Thank you for purchasing this programme. As you will observe, it was prepared for the original fixture but cancelled because of the unfit state of the ground.’ – the game was finally set for Monday 16th.

And only two days before the ‘big’ encounter, Aldershot flattened Newport County 5v0, in a League game at the Rec. The Shots were in form and the pitch was left looking like the Severn Estuary at low tide.

My memories of the FA Cup game are incredibly vivid. Even within the relative sanctuary of the North Stand the pressure from the crowd was intense. The floodlights tried their best to cut through the gloom that engulfed the Rec. The massive and expectant cheer, as the teams came out onto the pitch from the two tunnels in the South Stand, made me shudder. ‘Happy Jack’, played with such a force that it shook the bolts free from every loudspeaker around the ground. And then the goal.

The greatest goal that I have ever experienced in all of my years watching Aldershot.

A goal, that like a fine wine improves with age. The images in my mind enhanced by a power far greater than that found in any modern day computer.

And with only a grainy photo of the moment when Jack released his thunderbolt to refresh my mind the status of the goal can never be challenged.


Steve Curry wrote the following report for the Daily Express - published on Tuesday January 17th 1967.

‘Happy Jack’s the Cup hit’

Happy Jack Howarth spun on the mad thrill of a goal to the top of Aldershot’s hit parade last night.

He smacked the goal that ends the brave fight of Reading and wins a home clash with Brighton in the third round.

Howarth was swept off the field at the finish by frenzied fans who had swung from the grandstand roof and climbed floodlight pylons to view this thriller.

‘Happy Jack’…that was the record with which Aldershot greeted the teams as they came out.

‘Happy jack’…that was the song those fans sang as they went home.

And Howarth was the happiest Jack of the lot.

The 21-year-old who was rejected by Chelsea as ‘not good enough’ and came on a free transfer from Swindon had rightly become a Cup hero.

It was not the only record played out this furious night. Aldershot counted up their crowd to 16,500 and their takings to £3,300 – both club records.

That 16,500 includes fans who fought a running battle with police as they kept their slender grip on the roofs.

It does not include those who had the gates shut in their faces and climbed trees near by to peer in on the action.

The magical moment for Aldershot and Howarth roared up in the 56th minute.

Ernie Yard mis-hit a pass and Peter Kearns whipped in to snap it up and send Howarth away.

Big, bustling Howarth smoothed in on goal and even the defiance of brave goalkeeper Arthur Wilkie could not keep this one out…………

……Roy Bentley, Reading manager, said afterwards: ‘I thought Howarth’s goal was off-side. But I am not quibbling about the result. I thought Aldershot played extremely well. There is no doubt the better side won.’

Dave Smith, Aldershot manager, said: ‘I’m absolutely delighted. I can’t see how Reading could possibly dispute Howarth’s goal. He must have run 20 yards in possession.’

Images from Torquay.....

Torquay United 1 v 1 Aldershot Town

Manager watch.....

Substitutions during Football League matches were first permitted in the 1965/6 season – one per game and to replace an injured player.

Aldershot’s first use of a substitute was on November 6th 1965 when Richard Walden came on in a 1v0 win over Stockport County, at the ‘Rec’. And then from the 1967/8 season the replacement rule was relaxed to allow for tactical substitutions – the ‘super-sub’ was born.

Harry Bennett was probably our ‘greatest ever sub’, coming on in 9 of our final 11 games in the 1972/3 promotion winning season. Manager, Tommy McAnearney would quickly look at his watch to confirm that there were twenty minutes to go, and the tough tackling Bennett would be introduced to deny the opposition time and space. Tired legs and a playing surface that always created images in my mind of the beach at Weston-super-Mare……a grey overcast sky, the tide out leaving miles of exposed clinging mud…..yes life was made pretty easy for the cumbersome but clinical ‘super-sub’.

Now it’s a pity that our current manager, Gary Waddock, has still to learn the science of substitutions.

Today, the bench is full to bursting with replacements who are presumably both fit and useful – but time and time again Gary leaves it until the opposition has scored before making a change. So, this small piece of advice is targeted at you Gary, consider the momentum of the game and act before the crisis makes a change inevitable.

By the time John Grant had got his socks fully pulled up to cover his knees, at Lincoln last Saturday, just 3 minutes of normal time and 4 minutes of stoppage time were left for him to get the Shots back into the game. Somewhat frustrating when quite clearly Hudson, Soares and Chalmers were all failing to make an impact…..were the players sitting on the bench really that bad?

And at Torquay earlier in the week....another frustrating performance………


So spend the next few days thinking about it Gary and I look forward to seeing a revitalised approach on Saturday, when we entertain Morecambe at the Recreation Ground.

Conference watch......

Oxford United have had a great start to the Blue Square Premier season and following a 1v1 draw at Barrow on Saturday, they find themselves 6 points clear of Kettering Town at the top of the table......

But has the arrogance, that was so evident when Aldershot Town visited the Kassam Stadium a couple of seasons ago, been replaced by an honest endeavour.....?

‘He was like a cock who thought the sun had risen to hear him crow’ - (George Eliot)

Jan Ludvik Hoch was born in the small town of Slatinske Doly in the Carpathian Mountains of Czechoslovakia in 1923.

He died Ian Robert Maxwell on November 5th 1991. His body found floating in the Atlantic Ocean off the Canary Islands. He fell overboard from his luxury yacht, Lady Ghislaine.

And Oxford United was, until 1960, Headington United. A club founded in 1893. The name change a matter of profile, and driven by the desire to gain entry to the Football League….

And in 1962 their wish came true, when they were elected to join the League following the demise of Accrington Stanley........(read more by looking up A Shot from Wales, 16th September 2007).

I have a sneaking feeling that Altrincham, my favourite Conference side, will have to stock up on the pies in readiness for the visit by 'Headington United' next season.....

A view from.......

One of the advantages of living a very long way from Aldershot is that to clients, colleagues and friends a trip to the Recreation Ground sounds exotic…..

And for the game with Port Vale, it was the turn of a long time friend to take in the delights of Hampshire. Now, Elaine should know a bit about football as she is an adviser to government on all matters sporting, her dad played first class rugby and……oh yes, she supports Hearts.

In her words this is how the world of Aldershot looks from Edinburgh.

‘‘They say that writing a second novel is much harder than the first. But then they also say that all Scottish ‘keepers’ are useless and women goalkeepers are worse!

The preparation for my return visit to the Recreation Ground had not gone to plan - the demands of work left me with little chance to listen to Radio 5 and when I did have the time to prepare for the game with Port Vale, my mind drifted to the memory of Edinburgh’s great victory over Cardiff in the other football code.

Despite these set backs I travelled to the Rec carrying with me the same feelings that I experience when Scotland start a World Cup qualification campaign, or indeed the ‘6 Nations’…. the inevitability of a win securely wrapped up in a blanket of whisky fuelled optimism. Yes, I was really looking forward to the game and my second trip to watch “The Lads”.

I was picked up bright and early on Saturday morning and just knew that I was not going to be disappointed. The trip down to Aldershot was accompanied by a discussion on the topic for the 'Blog'. I had a few ideas, but ‘Shot from Wales’ seemed preoccupied by a ‘web discussion’ that had taken place on the Shots message board earlier that week. The thread was in relation to women’s sport, and with ageing misogynists in the ascendancy the comment that all women footballers are lesbians was never going to be far away.

By the time we stopped for coffee at Membury my mind was full of the pathetic insults that rain down on footballers and officials up and down the country every week. And I’m sure you will agree with me when I say that unfair criticism of one’s ability to do ‘the job’, to be judged a poor performer when this is quite clearly a contaminated opinion, is the worst insult that could be thrown at anyone. And I have no doubt professional sports people feel just the same.

So as I sat in the La Fontaine pub, raising my glass to ‘The Lads’ and the sadly missed Jimmy, I resolved to watch the game through the eyes of a ‘psychologist’. And with such detachment from the passion of the game I hoped to reflect on the impact that any comments directed towards the players, officials and management might have.

On the whole the North Stand tirade was performance related. A torrent of abuse questioning skills or decision making. But then as the final whistle approached, and Aldershot battled to score a winning goal I registered an increase in more personal comments - including those relating to sexuality. Now, I am a bit of a 'saddo' when it comes to checking on evidence. And despite a full and thorough search could I find any research that linked sexuality to sporting ability? No, but I did uncover an interesting article that established that in most cases having sex will not impact negatively on sporting performance - unless both were attempted at the same time – perhaps this is taking multi-tasking a bit too far!

As paying spectators we have every right to criticise players when they turn up poorly prepared for the game, lacking in fitness, commitment or skills – these are the basic requirements for the job, but beyond that…? I guess Jimmy Greaves would say, ‘prejudice is a funny old game’.

And finally, my memories of the day. Glorious sunshine. A fantastic pre-match pie. Thank you Marilyn for the glass of wine. Reassuring pre-match rituals and a noticeable emotional power of the fans that I’m sure cannot be found in the ‘palaces’ of the Premiership. The shots at goal kept on coming and the tension was unbearable. Aldershot Town 1 v 1 Port Vale……. and this Shot from Morningside loved every second.

To the Lads and Jimmy.’’

The ‘bobble hat’ lives on…..

Sadly my dear old friend Betty died recently. Perhaps not something that will stir the emotions of many Shots fans, but for me her death secured the importance of my own piece of her life.

Betty, who was born just two years after the outbreak of the Great War and then decorated for her work in the Fire Service during the Second, moved to East Anglia when her husband left the frenetic BBC newsroom in London for the tranquillity of regional television.

And her great passion…well other than red wine and golf…was to be immersed in an ocean of crafts - crochet, knitting, sewing, dress making, spinning and weaving. Somehow producing her most brilliant ‘stuff’ when she was gently drunk.

I didn’t really want the hat. Perhaps it didn’t quite fit my mid twenties ‘trendy’ image. ‘But then I suppose it will be warm. And it is an excellent replacement for the one I threw away ten years ago’, I thought to myself as I was presented with the ‘bobble hat’ just in time for the Shrewsbury Town Cup replay in 1979.

And it has seen some action in the last thirty years………

I will be at Crewe tomorrow, wearing the ‘bobble’, but in my mind I will carry just the simple image of Betty which I 'recorded' late last year….…

’Betty sat back in her chair, looked out over the haunting beauty of Blythburgh Marshes and then softly closed her eyes…..it was time to leave her in the shroud of her own memories.’ - A Shot from Wales, 14th November 2008.

The ‘Archer’s Bow’…..

It’s more than fifty years ago but ‘my knees (still) hurt Mum’.

I don’t suppose for one minute, that three year old children walk from Cove to Farnborough today. In fact I’m not sure that youngsters walk anywhere today. The roads are so busy. The cars so fast. The drivers more concerned with the latest incoming text message than the small child escaping the security of their mother’s hand.

But in 1956 the walk to Farnborough was just something that Mum and I did every Wednesday afternoon.

We passed Tower Hill Primary School, with just a glance to see if my ‘big brother’ was outside playing football. Then onwards through the RAF houses, across Pinehurst Avenue and into RAF Alley. In those days Farnborough Road could be crossed without too much of a second look. Mum pretty confident that the odd car and lorry would stop and that the Rag-and-bone man would never let his horse run me over.

Now at this point we could choose…was it to be Boundary Road or Albert Road or Church Road. They all took us to Granny’s house, which backed onto King George’s Field.

Church Road was always my favourite because, half way down, the ‘circle’ allowed me to do just that. Run around in a big circle. Pretty pointless and Mum always said, ‘slow down you’ll fall over’.

The fall was predictable. But on this occasion Mum didn’t see the fall. She was unaware of my pain. And then the realisation that my knees were cut and bleeding profusely. My hands, oh did they hurt. Grazed and sore, they broke my fall, saving my head from injury and the likelihood of a bus trip to hospital in Aldershot.

After a minute or so I let out a cry…’ my knees hurt Mum’.

Diving is not an exact science, just ask Uefa. But 53 years on from my own realisation that when you trip you put your hands down not up…..you scream when you are cut and not when you are ‘tickled’, Dr Paul Morris, of the University of Portsmouth has perfected the art of detecting when a ‘foul’ is not a foul, but a dive.


In short his ‘Archer’s Bow’ describes, both arms up in the air to gain attention, chest thrust out, legs bent at the knee.


Yes. I can see why he is a Doctor…..

Bring back 'proper diving'

Eduardo da Silva has been banned for a couple of games by Uefa for his apparent dive in Arsenal’s win over Celtic in the Champions League play-off round. And true to form Arsene Wenger branded the Uefa action as a complete disgrace.

Now I would have some sympathy for Wenger’s opinion that, ‘Eduardo was (has been) touched by the goalkeeper and we can prove that….’ if he didn’t suffer from myopia. Yes, I’m sure that supporters from right across the globe would step forward to give evidence that the Arsenal manager suffers from an inability to see distant objects clearly. And not only is he myopic but he probably knows that the word entered our language via new Latin from the Greek word ‘muops’……

But if that accounts for Arsene’s failure to say, ‘the boy dived. It was never a penalty. I have taken him to one side and had a word. He won’t do it again’, then how can one be satisfied that the Uefa President is not simply leading a ‘witch hunt’? Is the mind of Michel Platini as pure as the waters bursting from beneath the green and ancient volcanoes of the Auvergne in France?

Platini was undoubtedly a great player but even he has admitted that, ‘I know why players do it – because I’ve dived myself. I did it because I knew the referee wouldn’t see me trying it on and also because there were no cameras either. If we thought we could get away with it, we would’.


Justification for his comment is often illuminated by recalling the game between France and West Germany in the semi-final of the 1982 World Cup. The ‘artistic’ French team led by Platini lost after one of soccer history’s most shocking fouls went unpunished.

In the second half, France’s Patrick Battison was played clean through, with only West German goalkeeper Harald Schumacher to beat... Schumacher launched himself at Battison and his hips smashed into the Frenchman’s face, leaving him unconscious and with a broken jaw.


As Battison was stretchered off, to spend many months in recovery, the referee calmly awarded a goal kick.

Platini, the man who hates injustice, was determined to get his own back. ‘But I just couldn’t get into the box. If I could have dived to get a penalty and win the game I would have done it, to make up for what happened between Battison and Schumacher’.

Stevie Melledew was a great little player. Aldershot signed him from Everton in 1971 for a fee of £7500; I guess it really was quite a lot of money, when one considers that the Football League’s minimum admission charge in our promotion winning season of 1972/3 was 40p and a match day programme cost only 5p.

(£7500 is worth £80,000 today using the RPI; £140,000, average earnings or £190,000 using the growth in share of GDP.)

Steve made just over 100 appearances for the Shots, in no more than a couple of years. He was the type of player that home fans loved and the away fans loved to berate. His haircut was in celebration of the Beatles, despite their impending dissolution and his shirt was two sizes too big. A shirt that was probably Jack Howarth’s famous ‘number 9’ before he went into a brief period of exile in Rochdale. Yes, vivid memories of an impish little Beatles look-alike torturing opposition defences with his baggy shirt hanging down over his shorts.

And just like Eduardo da Silva, Melledew was a great diver. But unlike the Croatian Steve dived properly. No, not the ‘simulation’ with intent to fool the referee, because his dives were proper ones. The kind that kept his legs attached to his hips and waist. Dives that resulted in Melledew playing in every one of our 46 games in the promotion winning season of 1972/73 - and becoming our leading goal scorer with 18 goals.

Lined up against the diminutive Melledew that season were some of the game’s great hard men : Sam Ellis (Mansfield), Ray Harford (Colchester), Chris Turner (Peterborough), Graham Rathbone ( Cambridge) and the great Jimmy Giles (Exeter, but once of Shots fame), Tommy Youlden (Reading, but he ‘saw the light’ and he joined the Shots in ’76)………I shudder just typing their names.

Aldershot’s centre half in 1972/73 was Ray Dean. A wonderful player who by his own admission was slow…..in fact to be brutally honest, very slow. But as he recounted only last week, his job was to stop the opposition. And that is all he ever did. He stopped them……’quite beautifully’

So that’s it Michel and Arsene, bring back the ‘stopper’ and make ‘proper’ diving an essential part of every forwards game.

Welcome back....

Despite the frenetic social change, brought about by the overpowering digital age, I can still remember the time when holidays were a genuine release from the daily grind of work and the inherent need to know what was going on in the world. A time when news from the first weekend of the football season could only be found by restoring order to a hallway floor covered by newspapers, the gas bill, a polite reminder from ‘the taxman’ and an invitation to contribute to the Salvation Army Christmas Appeal.

But today iPhones give instant access to information ameliorating the inevitable ‘first match nerves’. So as the final whistle blew at the Recreation Ground, Aldershot, on the opening day of the season, I was already toasting a 3v1 win over Darlington in the sophisticated surroundings of the Kalkan Regency in Turkey.


Yes, a couple of weeks in one of the Mediterranean’s finest hotels was surely going to be long enough for me to gather my thoughts for the new season and to decide whether or not to continue with my blog……

For all of his life Chairman Mao loved swimming. He considered it to be the best of all sports; a struggle of man against nature.

And I have no doubt that it was his powerful association with the Yangtze River that inspired him to write the famous ‘Little Red Book’. The overwhelming desire to publish his thoughts in 1966, as part of the Cultural Revolution, balanced by the allure of the mud brown waters of the Yangtze stretching out before his ‘holiday eyes’, and with the horizon no more than a beckoning portal to his imagination. Time given over to a few passages of political or social insight, punctuated only by the odd recreational moment.

Life does become easier to understand as the mind and body is detoxified of the ‘everyday trivia’ that destroys our ability to create and innovate. Freedom from Government, politicians, MPs expenses, the money markets, rising unemployment, school league tables, rain, vegetables rotting in the ground…….

So as I sat looking out over Kalkan Bay, with just the odd boat aimlessly drifting across the horizon to accompany my thoughts, I decided that perhaps my mind was sufficiently regenerated to give this blog another season – like fresh shoots appearing to replace the retreating blanket of winter snow or buds bursting to fill the skeletal landscape with texture and colour ‘A Shot from Wales' was indeed ready for the travails that lay ahead.

And then having reached such a simple decision I could see quite clearly how a few weeks in Glenrothes or Kirkcaldy would also work for Gordon Brown and how his advice to colleagues – ‘take a few days in a tent in the Lakes, or a B&B in Great Yarmouth or a caravan in Cleethorpes’, would see the ‘New Labour’ ideals bloom just in time for a spring 2010 General Election.

Mao once observed, ‘The Yangtze is a big river, people say. It is big but not frightening. Is imperialist America big? We challenged it, nothing happened. So there are things in this world that are big but not frightening.’

As Aldershot start their second season back in the Football League a reminder to Gary Waddock (Manager ATFC) and all of the players – there are some big clubs in the division, we have some big games ahead……but they are not frightening.

James Robinson....'A Fan For All Seasons'

James (Jim, Jimmy) Robinson, supporter of Aldershot FC for 62 years sadly died today…….

News from my brother that Jim had been admitted to hospital after a trip to Paris came as no surprise to me. His fight against cancer had been long, determined and resolute. Promotion from the Blue Square Premier and a season back in the Football League shared with his many friends…….a personal triumph.

So it wasn’t another Saturday, and another long trip down the M4 to the Recreation Ground, Aldershot. It was a Friday and the destination, Frimley Park Hospital.

And as I approached the Second Severn Crossing, such a majestic link to home, its towering form reaching ever upwards, in search of the milky blue sky above, my thoughts turned to the friendships formed over the years and secured by the union of red and blue.

Jimmy started following the Shots in 1947 although he could never recall his first game at the Rec, only the fact that it cost 9d return on the double decker bus from Dogmersfield to Aldershot.

In 1950 Jimmy joined the RAF as a stores accountant and was stationed at Middle Wallop. On Saturdays he used to get the ‘steamer’ up from Andover via Basingstoke and Woking to Aldershot. In those days the Shots played in front of 8 or 9000 and even the reserves played to crowds of 1000. Then after the game Jimmy would hit the town….well the cinema, and he probably downed the odd pint before catching the last train home.

I swung into the hospital car park accompanied by thoughts of my first game at the Recreation Ground, October 15th 1960.

Peterborough United had been elected to the Football League at the expense of Gateshead, and what a first season they had. Champions by two points, ahead of Crystal Palace, Northampton Town and Bradford PA. We were 10th……

12385 supporters joined my Dad and me…..at the Rec that day. We stood behind the goal at the High Street End. I was just about big enough to see over the railings….the images still fresh and vivid today.

And then Tunbridge Wells in the FA Cup…November 1961. Brilliant sunshine after rain, and George Norris scoring with a diving header just in front of me….as again we stood behind the goal at the High Street End.

We queued for what seemed hours when the mighty Villa visited the Rec in 1964. 2v1 and the first time that Aston Villa had been removed from the FA Cup by a team outside of the top flight. I watched the game from the terracing behind the seats in the North Stand, just about where the ‘corporates’ sit today. And probably within a few feet of Jimmy Robinson…….

September 9th 1970 was I think the only time that I have stood in the East Bank….the day United came to town. They say the crowd was 18509 but I reckon it was more. Richard Walden’s goal was scored at the far end, but who cared…we went mad, and the thousands of Reds fans fell silent. But in the end Charlton, Best and Law were just too good.

January 2nd 1971 was a depressingly cold day. The British Rail ‘Specials’ were late leaving Aldershot…they got lost around Crewe…we took a shortcut along a mineral line and the driver asked a signalman for directions….we got to Anfield just as the game started …we lost 1v0 and Dennis Brown missed a sitter. Then Bingo on the way back with DJ Ken….

Stockport County May 4th 1973…….and promotion, followed by Sunderland beating Leeds in the Cup Final. What a weekend.



Shrewsbury Town and Malcolm Crosby gifting the Shrews a last minute equaliser. The Quarter Final draw for the FA Cup had us playing away to Wolverhampton Wanderers. But the replay at Gay Meadow was just one game too many…..we drank to ‘the lads’ that night.

And then 1987, the first year of the Play-offs….we stuffed Bolton. Then we destroyed the mighty Wolves, and somehow the Shots were back in the 3rd Division. The pinnacle reached….and then 1992…March 20th…Ninian Park…the depth descended.

But we came back….happier…stronger…optimistic…joyful. And how we all cheered as Bully scored from the penalty spot against Hendon, in our last game in the Rymans Premier.

And what a day we had at the Britannia Stadium, Stoke in the Conference Play-off Final…..and the pies at Altrincham ….the victory at the Kassam…..the Scott Davies 94th minute winner at Torquay…the Championship winning point secured at Exeter on April 15th 2008….what a great adventure.

Jimmy gripped the handrails of his hospital bed. I could sense that he was back home in the North Stand…….

So many memories to comfort us all.

The season ends......

Not even the news that Tam Dalyell, the former Father of the House of Commons, attempted to claim £18,000 for bookcases two months before he retired as an MP could break me free from the malaise that had engulfed the last few weeks of the 2008/09 season.

Aldershot back in the Football League, how good did that sound….. following the trauma of losing our Club in 1992. But by April the last game couldn’t come soon enough.

Mr Dalyell said that his expenses claim had been ‘absolutely justified’. He said, ‘I’m absolutely at ease with all of this….The bookcases were needed for all the Hansards I’d collected. I also do a lot of obituaries and wanted them to be in order.’

Well Tam I can absolutely advise you, and without the benefit of access to your very large bookcase, that your first contribution as an MP was recorded on July 10 1962 EDUCATION, SCOTLAND Commons and by the time you retired to your 200 acre estate (The House of the Binns) you had made 24758 contributions.

I’m sure all of our lives have been enhanced as a result of your efforts. Thank you. Although I’m not so sure that Cabinet Makers will have much of a future in this digitised world…..

Aldershot Town finished the season in 15th place with 54 points. I guess one would record that as a pretty good effort, if you didn’t watch any of the games in 2009…..

‘Freshers week’…..I can’t wait.

In memory..........

The point gained at Exeter, on April 15th 2008, returned to Aldershot a status that was so painfully taken away in 1992.

No Club has a ‘right’ to membership of the Football League. And our place, somewhere closer to the ‘top table’ was not achieved by the outstanding goalkeeping of Nikki Bull or indeed the innocent exuberance of the young squad. No, it was the combined emotional power of so many people over the period 1992-2008 that secured the status of Blue Square Champions.

But as Aldershot’s 2008/9 season continues to track the performance of our Government, the final whistle at St James’ Park has become no more than just a moment in a lifetime of emotion.

At 3.06pm on April 15th 1989 the FA Cup semi-final between Nottingham Forest and Liverpool was stopped as fans spilled onto the pitch from the Leppings Lane end.

For 96 Liverpool fans a lifetime of emotions were tragically extinguished.

The Hillsborough Inquiry, led by Lord Justice Taylor, concluded that the main reason for the overcrowding was the ‘failure of police control’. Chief Superintendent David Duckenfield had determined that opening ‘Gate C’ would be a good idea. And as a direct result 2000 people passed through, and headed for the already packed central pens behind the goal.

The police incompetence was exposed, but despite a number of attempts for ‘justice’ the public examination of the tragic event resulted only in the acceleration of the founding of the Premier League and the introduction of all-seater stadia.

Duckenfield retired early having ‘survived’ the inquiry and a six week trial at Leeds Crown Court – the jury failed to reach a verdict in a private prosecution of manslaughter.

But if only Government had the ability to foresee disaster…..to have seen before the ‘global credit crunch’ that banks were spinning out of control…..

The ‘defence’ argued that the Hillsborough disaster was ‘unprecedented, unforeseeable, unique’………..Rubbish.

In 1946 33 lives were lost as a result of overcrowding at Burnden Park…..66 Glasgow Rangers fans were crushed to death at Ibrox in 1971 and 56 fans lost their lives in the Bradford City Fire on May 11th 1985.

I know 10 Downing Street has always been ‘home’ to a lot of clever people…..the problem today is that they seem to take more interest in the personal life of Tory MP Nadine Dorries than the economic well being of the country - the political assassination of opponents and colleagues taking centre stage. And then when the inevitable ‘disaster’ unfolds Gordon Brown records his ‘deep regret’.

And how can we expect appropriate policing at the G20 demonstrations in London when Jacqui Smith, the Home Secretary, clearly signs any piece of paper that is put beneath her pen….and then when told that she had claimed expenses for a few dodgy films together with a number of family films….her response was in accordance with ‘Government Policy’, telling us she was sorry and it was a big mistake.

At 2.52pm on April 15th 1989 Chief Superintendent Duckenfield ordered that Gate C should be opened to ‘ease the crush’.......96 Liverpool fans died.

On the same day Aldershot lost at home to Wolverhampton Wanderers, and relegation to Division 4 was pretty much guaranteed.

The painful events that followed were finally ameliorated when Aldershot Town was promoted back to the Football League in 2008.......we are so fortunate to have experienced such a moment in a lifetime of emotions.

A look back over the month of March...........

As I crossed the Second Severn Crossing, and headed south in search of Bournemouth, I found it hard to believe that March 3rd 2009 was the anniversary of Aldershot Town winning 2v1 at Torquay United, in the Blue Square Premier.

I guess for many supporters the Scott Davies winner in the 94th minute at Torquay was the deciding moment in our promotion winning season…..but for me a mood of optimism developed following victory at the Kassam Stadium, in September 2007.

Oxford, the pre-season favourites to win the league……..Aldershot just a bunch of kids. A day when the innocence of youth overcame the arrogance of experience.

But as I approached Newbury, in a storm that threatened to wash out the evening encounter with relegation threatened Bournemouth, my thoughts returned to Plainmoor, and the ‘title decider’.

The game was tense and frenetic. The crowd passionate but totally consumed by the public emotion.

Aldershot scored early on…..Torquay equalised in the second half. Then Scott Davies hit a superb volley in the last minute of injury time, to win the game.

The explosion of feelings in the ‘away’ end, powerful and beyond control.

The silence on three sides of the ground, no more than a shroud for the pain felt by 3500 Torquay supporters.

By the M27 my thoughts returned to the exuberance that pervaded the Club around Christmas……but then as the New Forest disappeared under an all-consuming blanket of cloud, the feeling of optimism was replaced by the desolation that had resulted from such a devastating form inversion in 2009.

The eight games in March would certainly determine whether Aldershot’s first season back in the League was to be one of consolidation or simply misjudged expectation.

Bournemouth was wet, cold and thoroughly miserable. The two nil defeat a fair result on the night. And then spirits weren’t exactly lifted by the heavy defeat at Bradford City.

The Shots did manage to secure a home draw with Shrewsbury Town on March 10th, in a pretty lacklustre game….and with all of my optimism thoroughly shattered, the end of the season couldn’t come soon enough. Yes, it was definitely a good time to take a long walk with Wini, our Welsh Sheepdog.

High above our house a stream flows, strong and quiet. There are eddies and little disturbing whirlpools near the big stones. And as I sat and listened to the murmur of the water, watching its quiet strength, the season's worries were gently soothed away......

The sun was out when Luton Town came down to the Recreation Ground on March 14th. And at last we had a game to savour. Energy and passion replaced timidity and tiredness. From the depth of our players memory came pace and confidence. The well deserved home win was followed by another victory at the ‘atmospheric’ Don Valley Stadium, against Rotherham United.

The stream, never resting, was once again carrying me to the play offs. But then after the long trip north to Darlington, and yet another away defeat, I was once again in need of the healing waters.

Even the ‘locals’ said it was cold when the teams came out to face the Arctic wind that swept across Blundell Park, Grimsby. The 90 minutes became no more than a test of keeping the ball in play, with each side taking its turn at going head to head with nature.

Aldershot won the ‘passing battle’ but lost the ‘war’, thanks to an assistant referee who felt the need to wave his flag frantically for a penalty, perhaps he was just trying to keep warm.

Chesterfield visited the Rec on the last day of the month and left with a point…..their play off hopes dented, and for Aldershot, the ‘green shoots of recovery’ deferred for another day.

In search of the Aldershot

Sir Alex Ferguson’s view of the refereeing decisions that no doubt helped Fulham overcome Manchester United at the weekend was typically caustic – ‘It’s Phil Dowd so what do you expect?’

Well Sir Alex, probably no more than the collision of the posturing arrogance of Dowd with the pathetic insolence of Ronaldo, resulting in the inevitable dismissal of Rooney- simply a hapless victim.

Opinion will always be divided on every ‘big’ decision. And of course incidents inevitably occur at the other end of the field; the distance from the action limiting objectivity, with prejudice compounded by an in-built myopic view.

Without doubt Philip Dowd does get some decisions right…perhaps even some of the important ones. But on Saturday he was gifted a stage and supporting cast that became an irresistible force. His hubris a delightful counterpoint to the effrontery of Ronaldo.

For every decision his chest was pumped up, his arm extended in a manner demanding respect. His eyes searching for anyone to fix onto….. players, spectators, Sir Alex…no one was safe.

’Yes, I’m right. I’m Philip Dowd. And if you stand still I will engulf you with the power of my wisdom’.

The instant judgement, and emotional outpourings from Sir Alex, was never going to deliver a satisfactory assessment of Philip Dowd’s performance.

No, on reflection Dowd is simply a victim of the avarice that pervades the Premier League.

Of course the love of status is easy to see in the flashing eyes of Ronaldo and Mourinho’s ‘playful teasing’ of opposition managers. But the pernicious contamination has spread unchecked, like the Black Death, from boardroom to stand….Toon Army to the Stretford Enders…..and with the art of Well Dressing confined to just a few areas of England, it was simply a matter of time before ‘the men in black’ joined the club.

Yes Sir Alex, as the suffocating blanket of irrational thought lifts I’m sure you will see clearly again……although for me it took fully six days, after Philip Dowd ‘took control’ of Luton Town and Aldershot Town back in September of last year……………

Aldershot Town’s post Christmas form has been dire. Bournemouth on Tuesday 3rd March was cold, wet and thoroughly miserable. We lost.

And then at Bradford City we were ‘stuffed’.

After the optimism that pervaded the Club around Christmas it was unsettling to experience a form inversion and a feeling that the season was starting to slip disastrously away. Gary Waddock certainly needed a rapid change in fortune if he was to survive.

The Shots managed to secure a pretty dismal home draw with Shrewsbury Town on March 10th….

It’s funny how a bit of sunshine convinces us that the battle with frost is over for another year. A few warm days and thoughts turn to evening skies that are blue and clear……trees shimmering with gossamer……and birds busy the woodland through…..

The sun was out when Luton Town came down to the Recreation Ground on March 14th ……and without Philip Dowd in control, at last we had a game to savour. Energy and passion replaced timidity and tiredness. And from memory came pace and confidence.

Luton were sent home pointless, and for them the trap door to the Blue Square Premier looks to be almost fully open, perhaps leaving them to spend their summer holidays checking out the delights of Eastbourne and Wrexham.

And then another win…….this time at Rotherham, set the heart racing towards the play offs. Only for the head to take control after the long trip north to Darlington, and yet another away defeat…

I was only five when the first Cod War started on 1st September 1958, after the First Conference of the Law of the Sea in Geneva failed to muster the two-thirds majority to adopt a 12-mile limit on territorial seas.

Even before the first Cod War the Royal Navy maintained a patrol in Icelandic waters for about 15 weeks a year. The mission of the Navy was to prevent any interference with British fishing vessels.

The Icelandic Coastguard started with seven ships and two aircraft, the largest ship was the Thor of only 920 tons. The first encounter involved the trawler Northern Foam when boarded by an unarmed detachment from the Icelandic gunboat Thor. The frigate HMS Eastbourne interceded and eventually obtained the release of the fishermen.

Then in 1971 the limit was extended to 50 miles, this would have a dramatic effect on British deep-sea fishing business so another Cod War was inevitable.

During 1972 eight British boats had their trawls cut by Icelandic gunboats. Despite political negotiations about limits and cod quotas the war escalated…….

And then it happened.

The British trawler Aldershot, out of Grimsby, was rammed by the Icelandic gunboat Aegir. The Aegir seriously damaged the Aldershot in the stern….she ‘limped’ off to the Faeroe Islands and the hole was patched up with cement…..now that sounds so very Aldershot!

The aggression levels increased and in July 1975 Iceland declared a 200 mile fishing limit. Serious contingency planning for a third Cod War started immediately as there was little chance of a negotiated settlement.

This Cod War lasted until 28th May 1976 when an agreement was reached after a Foreign Ministers meeting in Oslo limited the number of trawlers fishing in Icelandic waters and implemented conservation areas, including extra prohibited zones.

Iceland grew in economic strength outside of the European Union….…Grimsby died and the trawler Aldershot vanished.

But today as the economy melts faster than the polar ice cap under the radiator of global warming, Iceland is sending fresh fish to market in Grimsby for the first time in more than a decade.

And if I get to Grimsby in good time on Saturday, for the game that the Mariners really must win if they are to have any chance of avoiding the drop, then to the rear of the fish docks, the National Fishing Heritage Centre may just reveal the secret of the Aldershot.

Oh yes, and a win would be good Gary…….

So everything is fine.........

The increasingly incandescent outrage that has followed the global banking crisis went nuclear this week when left-wing Labour veteran Dennis Skinner, who was undoubtedly speaking for all sides of the House of Commons, profoundly explained that the banking fraternity had been "on a winner" for some time and were no better than Nick Leeson, the rogue trader who caused the collapse of Barings Bank in the 1990s.

He said: "Instead of paying out these vast executive bonuses and Freddie Goodwin's massive £650,000 pension, why not tell them that those of us on these benches will gladly walk through that voting lobby to ensure that all those executive bonuses and all that pension fund for Freddie Goodwin and his mates will be paid for out of the toxic debt when it had been repaid - and that will be never.”

"That's the proposal we ought to put to these bankers, and treat them with the contempt they deserve."

And now we have Harriet Harman, leader of the House of Commons, telling us that Freddie shouldn't get too comfortable with his pension as ‘the court of public opinion’ is going to bite back, with the Government stepping in to cut his ‘entitlement’……I have this nagging feeling that the plan, hatched by John Prescott, to withhold Freddie's monthly cheque may just cost all of us money in the ‘court of law’.

But of course what really ‘got up the snouts’ of our politicians this week was not that Fred was on to a good thing. After all he had been travelling in the luxury of his own ‘virtual financial world’ for many years. A fact recognised when the Government bestowed on him a Knighthood for his services to banking. No, the pain came from the realisation that the ’RBS trough of easy cash’ was considerably deeper than the pitifully small one that they had to share in Westminster.

Poor Jacqui Smith might be the Home Secretary but it hasn’t saved her from scrutiny following the disclosure that her ‘first home’ is in fact the spare room at her sister's. And of course where her children and husband live in Redditch, is her second home.

The tax-free Additional Costs Allowance - worth up to £24,006 a year at present - is claimed by MPs for the costs, such as mortgage interest and fuel bills, of working in both Westminster and a constituency. Conservative leader David Cameron told a news conference in Westminster the arrangement - which enabled Ms Smith to claim £116,000 over a period of years - did not look very good.

You are right Dave….not good.

Now of course Jacqui claims that the parliamentary system approves of her action…..I’m sure it does. But what I want to know is where she keeps her collection of Redditch United FC programmes. Hovering just above the relegation places in the Blue Square North, Redditch are not having a great season……but if Jacqui keeps her collection, that no doubt dates back to 1891/2, in her London ‘box room’ then she is truly ‘innocent’.

But this allowance is pretty pathetic when compared with Freddie’s years of largesse and in 'scrutiny terms' probably only just ranks alongside Gordon Brown’s ‘inadvertent’ sub-letting of his constituency office in Kirkcaldy, which resulted in a criticism from the Standards and Privileges Committee. Now I wonder which bit was ‘inadvertent’?

Getting things right is easy when the mood is positive, the ‘company’ is growing and markets are expanding.

Aldershot Town dined out last season on a menu that was both fresh and dynamic.

The plan was delivered without fear but perhaps, just perhaps, the risk of environmental change was never calculated. A similar failing destroyed RBS, left Sir Fred with a £693,000 headache and the resulting national debt will no doubt have the same half-life as Uranium 238.

It is a criticism of the Aldershot Town management team that the alternative approach necessary to secure League position, when the momentum that ensued from the ‘promotion bubble’ inevitably burst, was never established. As a consequence the recovery action has been unstable, in fact just like the Government’s current 'measured financial plan'.

Without doubt the disastrous sequence of results that we experienced, six defeats and three draws, following the splendid 3v0 win at Barnet on Boxing Day meant that Aldershot Town had to beat Accrington Stanley last Saturday. Yes, even the economists currently working for Gordon Brown would be capable of working out that our Club cannot afford to play in front of crowds that have fallen from 3600 to 2600 in a direct correlation with plummeting performances.

As we entered 2009 crisis followed crisis. Our ability to plan for the future, and respond to injuries became so much more difficult.

Poor form and falling levels of confidence was accentuated when goalkeeper Nikki Bull was injured and subsequently absent for eight weeks ....his replacements were not up to League standard…and the midfield without the energy and drive that was so uplifting last season left a weak defence cruelly exposed at times…..and clearly a ‘personnel issue’ with Lewis Chalmers – from bench warming to Crawley Town – was not part of Gary Waddock’s development plan for the season.

But then Nikki came back on Saturday and so too Lewis….Accrington were poor and Aldershot Town scored three.

So everything is fine….. well at least I will be travelling to Bournemouth on Tuesday evening with an optimism that has been absent for a few weeks..

'Gary Waddock still has time to restore to Aldershot a ‘year of wonder’ consigning the mensis horribilis to a mere footnote in the history of our club.' - 'Life in the Freezer', 5th Feb 2009.

'Life in the Freezer'

I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised, after all most of the country had spent the first days of 1979 blanketed in snow. Heavy snowfalls, blizzard conditions and near-Arctic temperatures had brought freezing fog and hazardous conditions to East Anglia and I was beginning to regret the decision, taken just a few years earlier, to leave the ‘warmth’ of London in search of work.

The winter of 1978/9 was to go down as the coldest since the ‘great freeze’ of 1962/3 and therefore significant for more than simply the only occasion that Aldershot have featured in the draw for the quarter-finals of the FA Cup.

Yes, living in ‘exile’ has never been easy……

I pulled back my curtains to be surprised by the new vista. The haunting beauty of Geldeston Marsh replaced by a film set for David Attenborough’s ‘Life in the Freezer’. The mysterious Bittern sensibly long gone, to be replaced by a battalion of Adelie Penguins, getting ready for the long march to the welcoming North Sea.

And it didn’t take me long to calculate the proportion of the working population who lacked drive; commitment; ‘I must get to work…’; pack the car with soup, blanket, water, whistle, spade……

The streets were eerily empty as I strode out to check the state of the ‘highways network’, and the probability of getting to Norwich safely.

I paused briefly outside of the Council Depot. The ranks of vans and refuse vehicles stood forlorn, the comforting blanket of bureaucracy replaced by the all consuming power of nature.

I followed a couple of tyre tracks that had formed an abyssal furrow in the pristine snowfield. And then the deep throb of a massive diesel engine shattered the monastic silence.

I turned the corner into Market Street and there it was, the Council’s first line of Arctic defence.

A big yellow beast just bursting to get going……

The impressive snow plough had certainly done a good job. The road around the Market Cross was clear, and the tarmac glistened in the weak early morning sun. My progress through the powder snow quickened as I considered the obvious quality of the driver's work, so evident in a circle of no more than 100m. ‘Perhaps Norwich will be accessible’, and my thoughts turned to the working day ahead.

The windows of the cabin were steamed up like the door of an overworked sauna. I banged on the side of the stationary vehicle…..I banged a bit harder. The only response, a muffled drone from the radio. I hit the door of the cabin with my fist, and in a somewhat reluctant response the window lowered just a couple of inches. ‘Yes….what do you want?’, the anonymous driver shouted back above the noise of Tony Blackburn and Radio One. ‘Is the road to Norwich open?', I enquired with the optimism of youth.

‘No, it’s blocked with snow……’

‘But will you be……’

The window started to close. I turned around and started to walk home. I was ready to join the ranks of committed workers who just didn’t have any soup….spade….

And as we suffer another shutdown of road and rail services along with the closure of schools together with the failure of Local Authorities to respond effectively to the sudden Arctic-blast, why do we consider our plight as ‘News’? Is the situation any different to the surprise that Napoleon had when he found Moscow to be a somewhat cold and unforgiving place in the winter of 1812?

The French invasion of Russia was certainly a turning point in the Napoleonic Wars. The campaign reduced the French and allied invasion forces to a tiny fraction of the initial strength.

At the time of the invasion Napoleon was at the height of his power with virtually all of continental Europe under his direct control or controlled by treaties favourable to France.

Yes, Napoleon was riding a ‘massive surf’ with the arrogance of a man fuelled by a history of success.

But then with Moscow burned to the ground the army had few food stores to sustain 100,000 men and hunger compounded by the bitter cold accounted for countless deaths. And the severe weather was given the nickname of ‘General Winter’ – the Czar’s deadliest soldier.

Success, victory and winning are indeed powerful drugs. They support the belief that everything and anything is possible. And the odd set back can be dismissed with the confidence of a Government Minister’s statement.

The British economy experienced nearly sixteen years of growth since the last recession ended in the autumn of 1992. And from 1996 the level of real national output grew in excess of two per cent for many of the years - leading to a large rise in total real GDP and an increase in average living standards.

Then from about 2000 the real GDP grew by about 3% each year, largely the result of a high level of consumer spending and also as a consequence of a rise in capital investment demand, alongside which the economy of the United States experienced a massive boom.

But then Gordon Brown understood all of this when with 10 years of Treasury experience wrapped up in his dress suit, and aired annually at the Mansion House he comforted us with his belief that Investment Bankers could be trusted with our money. He knew that they would always put our interests ahead of their Polo Ponies….that the yacht in the 'Med' was no more than an essential office overhead.

‘Your dynamism allied to the City's openness has led London to innovate: the most modern instruments of finance, an ability to compete that depends upon an open competition policy which rewards and is a stimulus to innovation and which does not restrict new entry and so helps new companies, new products and new services to come into the marketplace.’ - Gordon Brown, 21st June 2006.

And now he reassures us that we can extract ourselves from the current ‘global mess’ with plans to build 100,000 Council Houses, massive injections of ‘our’ money into the abyss of the Banking System, a cut in the rate of VAT………….…….

A few of Napoleon’s troops probably survived the retreat from Moscow and the snowfields of East Anglia did clear without the ‘big yellow beast’s’ pathetic intervention. And our economy will recover too…..but it will be through the power of ‘nature’ and not as a result of the lame interventions of politicians.

For Aldershot Town, 2008 was indeed their annus mirabilis and as we entered the New Year a victory over Notts County on January 3rd 2009 would have taken the Shots into the play off positions.

But the late postponement of the game, the result of a frozen pitch, not only upset this long distance supporter but it proved to be the start of a sequence of poor performances that the ‘management team’ clearly didn’t see coming.

With the games against Gillingham and Chesterfield also lost to the weather, January’s return of two home draws and three defeats delivered an icy antonym for Gary Waddock (Aldershot Town, Manager).

Undoubtedly it is easy to play well when the team is winning. And it’s even easier to manage well when the ‘company’ is trading in an expanding market – just ask Gordon. But the real trick is to be ready with a new plan, an alternative approach, and a new direction before the arctic blast hits home.

Suffolk County Council was not prepared in 1979, Napoleon was too arrogant in 1812, Gordon Brown was found wanting in 2008 and America did finally grasp that it is ‘banking bombs’ that go boom.

Gary Waddock still has time to restore to Aldershot a ‘year of wonder’ consigning the mensis horribilis to a mere footnote in the history of our club.

2008 was great, if you only read the 'back pages'......

2008 was a horrendous year for the financial stability of the world. Banks collapsed all over the place, the pound became a euro and the high street will never be the same again. Yes, the demise of Woolworths proved that one just can’t survive on pick ‘n’ mix alone.

And the safe stewardship of our economy by ‘Prudence Brown’ was finally exposed as no more than a mirage of fatal attraction. Added to which the whole of the ‘Banking World’ was shown to be either dishonest or pathetically inept.

So wasn’t it reassuringly comforting to wake up on 31st December to the sanctuary, safety and tradition of the New Year’s Honours.

In 1297 King Edward I was almost overthrown by his rebellious subjects, and was compelled to reaffirm the Magna Carta, which recognised the rights of nobility. Sir replaced ‘sire’ as the correct way to address the 6000 knights who made up the lowest level of nobility, and whose support he desperately needed to fight a war in France and to help suppress the Scottish rebel William Wallace.

Most of the other honours featured in the ‘list’ were founded in 1917, to recognise people who had contributed to the war effort but did not qualify for bravery awards. They of course include, in order of seniority, the CBE, OBE and MBE.

Pele, Charlton, Moore, Charles, Yashin, Eusebio, Cruyff, Best……all genuinely great players. And I’m pretty confident that anyone who, like me, has watched soccer over the last fifty years would include them all in a list of the top ten greatest players.

And in the United Kingdom the Honours System designed by Edward I, and refined in 1917, is a wonderfully apposite way of recognising a pre-eminent contribution in any field of activity, defined by achievement which is both inspirational and significant.

Bobby Moore, who so sadly died in February 1993, was awarded the OBE in recognition of lifting the World Cup in 1966.

Sarah Kate Webb joined the ‘OBE Club’ after winning ‘Beijing Gold’ in the Women’s Keelboat Yngling.

But recognition came somewhat belatedly for Bobby Charlton, and many years after the end of a playing career that few could match, a CBE in 1974 was followed 20 years later with the knighthood that his world-wide inspirational status so richly deserved.

There are 195 countries in the world. Although if you live in Puerto Rico, Bermuda, Greenland, Palestine, Western Sahara and, yes even Northern Ireland, Wales, Scotland and England….I’m sure you could argue that the ‘fully independent country, state or nation-state’ definition is somewhat outdated. Perhaps you would prefer measurement by FIFA membership…..currently standing at 208.

Winning three gold medals was undoubtedly a great personal achievement for Chris Hoy. But I do suffer from a nagging worry when Team GB proves to be so much better than the rest…..

Sir Bobby Charlton - inspirational and significant. Sir Chris Hoy……I wonder what Edward I would have made of it all.

The barren urban form of Northfleet was never going to be a fitting venue for a performance that would determine the return of Aldershot to the Football League.

To have witnessed promotion at Stonebridge Road would have been like experiencing the return of Nigel Kennedy to public acclaim, after a self-imposed exile, in the South Bank underpass and not within the restored splendour of the Royal Festival Hall.

But it was not simply the surroundings that made Ebbsfleet inappropriate. Had Aldershot Town secured promotion on April 8th 2008 it would have been as a result of Torquay’s failings.

Aldershot Town reached the top of the Blue Square Premier in October 2007.…and they sustained their position by winning games.

So as the players travelled back to Aldershot, after a hard fought draw, the points needed for promotion were down from 5 to 4.

And then a home game with Burton Albion, on April 12th, offered another chance for Torquay to fail in their quest to reduce the massive points gap. An expectant but nervous crowd of nearly 6000 filled the Rec, all praying for a Torquay slip up. Torquay ‘kept standing’ and another Shots win left the revised promotion points target….one point from the four remaining games.

Then when around 900 Shots fans made the trip to St James’ Park, Exeter on Tuesday April 15th……it would prove to be just another game….one point…..ignore the rest.

Looking back I guess the terminal illness that struck Aldershot FC could have been diagnosed long before December 28th 1991, when the Shots recorded their last League win - 2v1 v Maidstone Utd. But what followed was an experience that no football supporter should ever be subjected to.

The death of our once proud Club was painful. From January to March 1992, Aldershot played 16 games, lost 14, drew 2 and scored just 2 goals.

1374 fans saw the ‘last game’ at home to Northampton Town on March 7th 1992. But it wasn’t all over, the heart flickered and the Shots entered a phase of temporary remission. Then Lincoln City attracted a crowd of 1473 programme collectors to the Recreation Ground for what had to be the last game.

But with the Government still resisting the opportunity to support assisted suicide the ‘big needle’ was simply not available, and it was Ninian Park, Cardiff on March 20th 1992, that saw Aldershot pass away.

The Football League statement that followed the High Court decision was short and to the point….’The liquidator called in to supervise the winding-up order of Aldershot confirmed to the League that no offers had been received for the club. It is with deep regret that the League is left with little alternative but to announce that Aldershot’s membership is terminated with immediate effect’.

It was so hard to watch Aldershot gasping for breath over the final weeks of life. Each visit to the Recreation Ground undertaken with a dutiful resilience. A responsibility normally reserved for the few to attend at the bedside of an aged relative…….and when death finally came we were released to get on with our lives.

The rebirth of senior football in Aldershot, created from the ashes of the old club, was for me, no more than a distant ‘play thing‘. The start of the 1992/3 season coincided with a move away from London and the south east. Aldershot Town was still an ‘obsession under construction‘.

My ‘big’ brother constantly pulls my leg about the lame excuse, ‘but I live in Wales’, offered when I couldn’t get to Collier Row for a Tuesday night fixture. Yes, ‘where were you at Royston Town?’….he chides, forgetting his absence at Carlisle on Tuesday 28th December 2004.

But in those ‘early years’ my infrequent trips back to the Rec always left me with the feeling of ‘ghosts from Christmas past’.

After parking close to Redan Hill, the walk down to the ground exposed deep seated emotions. The floodlights coming into view first, then the East Bank, the North Stand followed by a glimpse of the ageing but classic form of the South Stand. Everything was in place…..

And looking around in the North Stand the faces were the same. Perhaps all showing signs of age but still no wiser.

Promotion to the Conference at the end of the 2002/03 season coincided with my own ‘life changing’ moment.

The season started in hospital and ended up at Stoke. A season that exposed the senses to the beauty of power and pace. A confidence developed in innocence. And the play-off final? Simply an explosion of excitement dressed securely in a feeling of community pride.

A memorable day to store alongside my first game at the Rec in 1960, and Aston Villa (’64), and Manchester Utd (‘70), and Liverpool (‘71), and Stockport (72/3), and Shrewsbury (’79), and Wolves (86/7), and Jack Howarth……

So as I look back to the 1v1 draw at Exeter, it wasn’t just another game…one point….ignore the rest. No, the result returned to Aldershot a status that was so painfully taken away in 1992.

Membership of the Football League is not a ‘right’ held in perpetuity by 92 Clubs - a fact of life that all supporters of Oxford, York, Torquay, Wrexham…..and soon to be followed by Luton….will agonisingly understand. So it is with great pride that I can report that our place somewhere closer to the ‘top table’ was achieved not by the outstanding goalkeeping of Nikki Bull or indeed the youthful exuberance of the young squad. No, the restoration of League football to the Recreation Ground was achieved through the combined emotional power of so many people over the period 1992-2008.

Aldershot are back, and a win tomorrow against Notts County could move the Shots into a Division 2 play-off place. Yes this is quite simply a sporting success story of far greater significance than the winning of a few ‘soft’ Olympic medals…….

A break in transmission......

So much to say and so little time....I'm sorry but business commitments dictate that I will only blog on the last Friday of each month and to the end of the season.

So to Gordon Brown, Ed Balls, Haringey Social Services, Kirklees Social Services.....I'm sure the blame must lay on another doorstep and to Peter Hain....I always thought you were innocent.


Millwall last Saturday was a great disappointment....but I have a good feeling about Wycombe tomorrow.

To all readers of this blog have a great Christmas and and look me up on the last Friday of each month.

'Blog Crunch'.....

Credit Crunch……ouch. And now I’m told to expect a Christmas Crunch……bah humbug.

Blog Crunch….it’s been a busy week and despite having a mind full of ideas tonight’s offering will be brief.

Tuesday evening saw the Shots easily dispose of a compact and competent Lincoln City in a manner that drew a favourable comparison with the efficiency displayed during all of last season. And despite failing to show the pace and power that had so beautifully disposed of Rotherham in the Cup replay, the week before, the result was never in doubt.

Four straight victories without a goal conceded will certainly give heart to the 1000 Shots fans as they make the short trip to the New Den on Saturday, for the FA Cup 2nd round clash with Millwall.

And on Sunday perhaps the best tie of the round….Histon v Leeds United.

I had so much that I wanted to write about Sunday’s game……the population of Histon 4400, although Impington does add another 4000. The total population of Cambridgeshire, including the Unitary Authority of Peterborough, at 710,000 just a bit smaller than Leeds - the third biggest City in the UK.

Steve Fallon took over as manager of Histon in 1999 just as Peter Ridsdale entered the second year of his Chairmanship of Leeds United. Histon were promoted that season from the Eastern Counties League to the Southern League Eastern Division. Swapping Lowestoft for Newport Isle of Wight and Great Yarmouth for Hastings.

Then in 2000/01 Leeds were within 90 minutes of reaching the Champions League Final….losing to Valencia in the semi-final. In that same year Histon lost to Bishop’s Stortford in the FA Cup 2nd qualifying round.

By the end of his tenure, in 2003, Ridsdale had delivered a £79m debt for Leeds United. ‘To suggest the biggest mistake I made – and I made plenty – was to have two goldfish tanks which cost £200 per annum, was just laughable,’ said Ridsdale recently and after Leeds fell from the Champions League to the third tier of the English game in seven years……

Meanwhile Histon continued to rise and the Club now sit proudly on top of the Blue Square Premier, within touching distance of the Football League.

Leeds will find the Glass World Stadium easy to locate…….but that’s about it really. With a strong breeze….a long high ball after 10 seconds followed by the next long high ball…..and then another, and….a big set of forwards bearing down on goal……I have a sneaking feeling that the few hundred Leeds fans who make the trip south will rue the day Ridsdale became fascinated with goldfish.

The power of nature.....

For almost ten years the Torrey Canyon made money for all who chartered her. She was a ‘big girl’, the first of the supertankers capable of carrying a cargo of 120,000 tons of crude oil.

On February 19th 1967 she left the Kuwait National Petroleum Company refinery at Mina al-Ahmadi, under charter to British Petroleum.

Then on March 18th 1967 Captain Pastrengo Rugiati took a short cut to save time in getting to Milford Haven and struck Pollard’s Rock in the Seven Stones reef between the Cornish mainland and the Scilly Isles.

This was the first major oil spill in British waters and of course the Government had no plans in place to deal with the disaster.

Unsuccessful attempts were made to float the ship off the reef, and one member of the Dutch salvage team was tragically killed. The ship started to break up and 50 miles of French and 120 miles of Cornish coast were ultimately contaminated.

After 10 days of Government dithering bombing raids began and eight Royal Navy Buccaneers set off from Lossiemouth in Scotland to drop 62,000lbs of bombs, 5,200 gallons of petrol, 11 rockets and large quantities of napalm onto the ship,

Despite direct hits, and a towering inferno of flames as the oil slick began to burn, the tanker refused to sink.

The Government said,’ We have been informed officially that the fire in the wreckage of the Torrey Canyon is out. We cannot say at this stage what the next step will be’.

The answer came wrapped up in hard work and the power of nature……

Gordon Brown was ‘on the Bridge of the Torrey Canyon’ for ten years and now he wants us to trust his use of 'bombs, rockets and napalm' in his attempt to reverse the ‘global recession’.

I would prefer the power of nature alongside hard work and a reduction in the size of government.


Aldershot Town travelled to Chester on Saturday in a confident frame of mind following the brilliance of their Cup replay win at Rotherham on Tuesday evening.

Undoubtedly Rhys Day’s return to fitness has instilled a confidence and strength to the back four that has been lacking all season. His presence a natural and powerful force. Added to which, Gary Waddock has at last found a formula to energise the whole team, such that performance can be sustained over 90 minutes.

Chester never threatened and despite the ‘woodwork’ working hard to keep the scores level, the Shots were always going to win.

When it finally came, the winner was no more than a just reward for the effort of Marvin Morgan, even if it was in a style befitting the scruffy and dismal surroundings…..but then who cares.

'There's only one Sally Gunnell.....'

‘There’s only one Sally Gunnell….. One Sally Gunnell….. There’s only one Sally Gunnell.’ The 174 Shots fans who made the long trip north for the first round FA Cup replay with Rotherham were certainly in good voice on Tuesday night.

Sheffield’s Don Valley Stadium, ‘temporary’ home to Rotherham United, is a miserable place. The board that announces the next event has yet to be updated. Behind one goal looms a metallic Olympic-style pyre. Its flames once heralded a new era, but now its rusting form does no more than commemorate an event that has divided the Yorkshire city for 17 years.

The torch that once lit up the night sky to celebrate the World Student Games of 1991, as Sheffield broke free from the despair of the ‘pit closure programme’ and the collapse of the steel industry, is a stark reminder of an event that was meant to transform the city

But the politicians dream was perhaps no more sophisticated than the storyline played out in ‘The Full Monty (1997)’…..’and for one night only, with nothing to lose……..’

The World Student Games cost around £150m to stage, with the Athletic Stadium setting the City back £29m. And with an annual interest payment liability of about £25m until 2024, the Student Games debt amounts to about 7% of the City Council’s annual budget.

The 25,000 capacity Don Valley Stadium has rarely been full since 1991, the only exceptions being pop concerts by the Rolling Stones and the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

And the sporting legacy?

Hard to measure, particularly when after 17 years the Shots fans could only sing the praise of Sally Gunnell, who won gold in the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, overlooking the efforts of the City of Sheffield Athletic Club’s best athlete Jessica Ennis, who won a bronze medal in the 2006 Commonwealth Games in Melbourne…..her coach is Toni Minichello and the event Heptathlon…..

8 away defeats in succession has been pretty painful to watch, so I can’t say that the trip north to Sheffield was eagerly awaited. But after a tentative start the Shots took control of the game with a return to the exuberance and pace so often seen in our Championship winning year. Rotherham were never allowed to settle, and for the first time this season the defence looked both composed and confident.

Goals from Hudson (2) and Morgan took the game well beyond the reach of a Rotherham side who never really threatened the Shots goal….3v 0…easy.

McFly to McNish......

I have written tens of thousands of words in support of the Shots over the past couple of seasons in an attempt to expose the emotions of the terrace, while at the same time placing the feelings in context with a view of the world beyond the Recreation Ground.

Tonights blog is however a first.....

Last Saturday I took a friend to see the Shots play Exeter and this is her account of the day....with just a bit of Editorial privilege applied.



''It was with a heightened sense of anticipation that I made ready for my first visit to the Recreation Ground, Aldershot. Of course I had prepared for the trip. My years at the University of Liverpool had not been wasted and I studiously spent the week building up to the Exeter game listening to Radio Five. And by Saturday I think I had a pretty keen understanding of the current interpretation of the offside rule and I knew all about the Respect Campaign. So yes, this wee Scottish Lassie, brought up on a diet of Andy Irvine and Gavin Hastings felt fully ready to embark on a voyage of discovery, in search of the true meaning of ‘the beautiful game.’

Isn’t it funny how theory and real life evolve in disparate worlds. Read a book and life is simple. Step out onto the street and cars all seem to go very fast.

What I experienced on Saturday was a day full of rituals, a gathering of the ‘Clans’, the strengthening of common bonds and a heightening passion for ‘The Lads’.

The rituals ‘kicked off’ when I was picked up in Cardiff and presented with my outfit for the day - an Aldershot away shirt. But I was soon to discover that the true fan does not simply rely on a replica shirt; no the true obsessive is wrapped up in an array of knitted items, many of which have been handed down through the generations.

And then with the Second Severn Crossing disappearing from the rear view mirror my senses were shattered by, ‘Gary Waddocks Red and Blue Army….Gary Waddocks Red and Blue Army….just coming over the bridge son’. I suppose a simple answer to the question, ‘where are you?’ And a ritual hands free phone call that must take place as England is entered. Well if the Shots are to win……

On the face of it pre-match drinks in La Fontaine and the clinking of glasses to support ‘The Lads’, should have been a pretty ordinary event. Apparently the ‘clinking’ had been going on since the FA Cup defeat at the hands of Shrewsbury in 1979…..and it was something that Jutta, over from Stuttgart, was to be held responsible for.

But then uncertainty over the likely result took hold of the ‘Clan’ when we were not able to sit in the ‘ceremonial’ seats in the pub. It was full of ‘The Exeter’. And then this trauma was followed by a bit of a debate on the purchase of the pre-match pie. ‘A Shot from Wales’ had already consumed two rolls ….should he purchase the ‘traditional’ steak pie and then give it away, bin it, or eat something that he really didn’t want…just to maintain the unbeaten home record. Suddenly I was welling up with a feeling of horror.

Taking over the season ticket of ASFW’s brother who was en-route to Bournemouth, with his young kids, to see McFly was scrambling the forces of nature. Was my presence upsetting the unseen and dark forces that control football….

And after a truly lack lustre first half and with the ‘thermos flask’ in Bournemouth, I was definitely getting worried that the deviations from normal practice were indeed having an effect on the outcome of the game.

But I shouldn’t have fretted because for the second half, a totally different Aldershot came out onto the pitch….a team packed with blazing guns. It was not long before I was able to add my sigh of relief to the hearty cheers as the ball found the back of the net after a defensive error and a John Grant shot.

The excitement continued right up to the final whistle. Loads of shots…off target. A few saves and a penalty miss. Aldershot never really in trouble and the Town held on admirably to win 1-0.

And as the songs from the terraces reverberated around the Eastbank I began to understand the drug that had ‘hooked’ my friend for all these years,

I’m now safely back in Cardiff and contemplating my weekend.

Thank you Aldershot Town for letting me share your team for the day.

And I raise my glass - “To the Lads”......''

A Shot from Morningside.....

Why did we forget.......

I didn't go to the game on Saturday as I took the opportunity of the FA Cup weekend to visit an old friend in Southwold. Betty, who was born just two years after the outbreak of the Great War and then decorated for her work in the Fire Service during the Second, moved to East Anglia when her husband left the frenetic BBC newsroom in London for the tranquillity of regional television.

Yes, I was so certain of a draw with Rotherham that a trip to Sheffield, taking in a business meeting in Llandovery on the way, was planned the instant that our ‘numbers had been drawn’.

My brothers both agreed that Aldershot, ‘were all over Rotherham’. That, ‘we were by far and away the better team’. And they were in accord that, ‘we should have scored four’.

Rotherham scored first and John Grant converted a penalty in the last minute. It was destined to be a draw and my trip to the Don Valley Stadium has been confirmed.

As the inevitable result was being played out at the Recreation Ground I was enjoying the autumn solitude of the East Anglian coast and attempting to stimulate images from a mind that has experienced so much in over 92 years. Although each day is now no more than 24 hours spent in conversation with her memories, I found Betty reassuringly bright and informed.

Age gives the brain security in its ability to ignore the 'news trivia' of today….Joey Barton, Eastenders, Terry Brown (former manager of Aldershot Town FC)…..and with every day that passes energy is channelled in an attempt to maintain and sharpen the image of the important……the Wall Street Crash, the War in Europe, The Beatles, the Falklands War, Bobby Moore and the ’66 World Cup.

As the War in Europe entered its last year Betty’s work for the London Fire Service became less intense and for the first time in years hope for the future started to suppress the daily pain of war.

And for Aldershot FC the days of playing Arsenal, Chelsea, Tottenham, West Ham, and Portsmouth were also drawing to a close and the Recreation Ground would soon resonate to the sounds of Exeter, Torquay and Mansfield.

On Saturday February 17th 1945 nearly 16000 spectators crammed into the Rec to see the ‘D-Day dodgers’ lose 6v1 to Tottenham Hotspur in the League South Cup. On the same day U Boat 1278 was sunk north-west of Bergen, Norway – 48 dead (all hands lost) and U- 1273 was sunk in the Skaggerak, Oslofjord – 43 dead and 8 survivors.

Furthermore two clear signs of German disarray in face of the Russian onslaught emerged in the week leading up to the Aldershot v Spurs match. As military difficulties increased for Germany, Martin Bormann drafted women into service to support the armed forces. And the Soviet offensive forced the evacuation of rocket expert Wernher von Braun together with other scientists from their top-secret V-weapon station at Peenemunde. Yes, Betty’s life would soon return to ‘normal’.

The words ‘Lest we Forget’ form the refrain of ‘Recessional’, Rudyard Kipling’s poem, composed on the occasion of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1887. The phrase passing into common usage after the First World War, becoming linked with Remembrance Day observations - and often found as the only wording on war memorials.

Betty sat back in her chair, looked out over the haunting beauty of Blythburgh Marshes and then softly closed her eyes…..it was time to leave her in the shroud of her own memories.

And at the Recreation Ground Aldershot, on the day before Remembrance Sunday, the Town welcomed back Terry Brown. ‘Today’s guest of honour needs absolutely no introduction to Shots supporters.

Terry Brown will forever be remembered with fondness by all at Aldershot Town…..’

And as the corporate party continued right up to kick off, no time for a ‘Minutes Silence’; the Chairman recording the next day that it was 'circumstances' or was it an 'oversight' as the reason.

I'm sure the crowd gave Terry an efficacious wave at half time.....it's just a shame that it was he who was remembered.....

It has nothing to do with luck...........

The feeling of satisfaction lasted from the moment Lewis Hamilton passed Toyota's Timo Glock as they entered the pit straight, to the ‘cut away’ featuring the look of horror on the faces of the Ferrari pit crew as they realised that ‘time’ had been called at the bar.

Yes, like millions of others I too had been gripped by the unfolding drama from Interlagos. After a day in the garden, a necessary part of my post match recovery strategy, I sat down in front of a roaring log fire to watch the last few laps of the 2008 Grand Prix season.

Hamilton's success was secure in my thoughts for perhaps ten seconds and then the event came sharply into focus. Conspiracy theorists will no doubt argue, that with millions of pounds riding on the result, a quick sprint down the pit lane, from the Maclaren Garage to Toyota’s, with a chunky ‘brown envelope’ might just have resulted in Glock taking on the persona of Thora Hird for the last lap, culminating in, ‘your father has moved the pedals again’…..(Last of the Summer Wine)

But then perhaps it was no more than….rain, wet track, one car on dry tyres…..last lap, Glock ahead of Hamilton by 18 seconds…oops, ‘I can’t keep it going in a straight line’……Maclaren’s computer calculates a last corner overtaking manoeuvre that results in the Championship being won…….easy.

The diminutive Hamilton rose from his car to be ‘crowned’ World Champion and for some unknown reason my mind flashed back to distant memories of the ‘Farnham Flyer’.

Mike Hawthorn was the first British World Motor Racing Champion. He won the 1958 Formula One Championship despite winning only the French Grand Prix that season, against the four wins of Stirling Moss.

Hawthorn was born to race. His father had bought a garage in Farnham, just down the road from Aldershot, to be close to the Brooklands Circuit. And after his father was killed in a road accident Mike took on the management of The Tourist Trophy Garage.

He was big, well over six feet tall (188cms), blond and endearingly boisterous. His trade marks a broad grin and a bow tie that led the French to nickname him Le Papillon.

The 1958 Championship was decided, just like this season, by the narrowest of margins. The second place points secured in the Stewards Room at Porto, where Hawthorn had been disqualified for pushing his Ferrari, against the rules, were enough to consign Stirling Moss in the Vanwall to a lifetime of, ‘near, oh so near’.

The passing of time has done nothing to improve standards of behaviour, honesty and integrity. The myopic drive for success has destroyed the world that gave us the intervention of Stirling Moss on August 24th 1958.

If Moss had visited the same optician as Arsene Wenger then it would have been ‘his year’. As it was he interceded on Hawthorn’s behalf, the podium finish was restored and the Championship decided by one point.

Hawthorn loved life, drove fast, retired at the end of the 1958 season and died young.

On 22nd January 1959, at the age of 29, Mike Hawthorn was killed on the A3 Guildford bypass. What happened that day is still a mystery – driver error, mechanical failure, high speed, bad weather, impulsiveness, competitiveness……Hawthorn’s Jaguar 3.4-litre was nicknamed ‘the Merceater’….was he racing Rob Walker’s 300SL Mercedes on that fateful day?

But whatever the cause, it was not bad luck…..

And for me, just boyhood memories of my Dad ‘slowing down’ in our Standard Eight, so that we could get a good look at the Ferraris and Jaguars parked outside The Tourist Trophy Garage.

Aldershot Town made the long trip north to Morecambe last Saturday and suffered their eighth straight away defeat.

A missed penalty, poor finishing, sloppy defending and 'bad luck' all conspired to ensure that the Shots left Christie Park without a point.

Gary Waddock must sharpen up pretty quick, as success in life is determined by behaviour and not luck……

Moving on.....

Russell Brand gets out of his £200,000 BBC contract to pursue a more lucrative career in the United States, without the slightest hint of ‘oh no you won’t, you are signed to us for the next…..’ and Jonathan Ross gets to spend a bit of ‘quality time’ with his kids.

Now I would have sacked Ross and put Brand on Woman’s Hour for the next year…..yes he would have enjoyed working on a programme with such exacting broadcasting standards.

Port Vale visited the Recreation Ground on Tuesday evening and left without any points, but with a few millimetres of snow on the roof of their coach.

The 3000 plus fans who turned out on a bitterly cold evening were warmed by a gutsy performance from the Shots. A busy midfield and a more confident backline kept a lightweight Vale at arms length for most of the 90mins.

Too soon to say that Gary Waddock has brought the team back under control, but it was a promising antidote for the misery that was suffered at the hands of Chesterfield and Rochdale.

Morecambe tomorrow will be a stern test…..but with a confident and solid defence…..renewed midfield vigour and with the electric pace of Hudson, perhaps we can once again contemplate…..just another game, and three points.

'A sorry affair'

Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross must be feeling pretty pleased with themselves today. ‘Leading article’ status in The Times and to be blogged by A Shot from Wales ahead of Peter Mandelson, George Osborne, Gordon Brown and even dear old Harry Redknapp, is an achievement that not even the inflated egos of the two ‘entertainers’ could have established as an outcome, when they hatched their sordid plan to phone Andrew Sachs.

Until yesterday, I have to admit, I didn’t really know who Russell Brand was. His name only creating an image in my mind of an overweight TV astrologer…

Then I saw the news, and Russell Brand came chaotically into focus….and to compound my feeling of unease, I was subsequently advised that ‘we’ pay his wages.

Jonathan Ross is less of a mystery….he is simply overpaid and without talent.

The reported unsavoury incident was described by one commentator on Radio 4 this morning, as a product of ‘the pursuit of youth by the BBC, which is why Jonathan Ross is employed’.

Now at this point I choked on my croissant. The statement was as grotesque as witnessing a 47 years old Jonathan Ross ‘dancing’ to The Prodigy at a wedding party. Perhaps just acceptable at midnight, and after the bride's gran and spinster aunt have gone to bed…..and when all of the remaining guests are equally drunk. But in daylight hours? No, it would never pass the, ‘but it was quite funny’, test of Radio 2 listeners, many of whom drink no more than a glass of Pic St Loup with their evening meal.

After the painful defeat at Chesterfield on Wednesday evening, Aldershot crossed the Pennines to play Rochdale on Saturday.

I have always had a soft spot for the Lancashire club, probably because their footballing history can be found in the same reference section as the Shots.

A lifetime in the basement was beautifully described in Derick Allsop’s book – Kicking in the Wind.

‘The third (D2) is the factory floor of the game, where diligent tradesmen endeavour to stave off injury and competition long enough to make a living, buy a comfortable semi and run a second-hand car….And yet, within inevitable constraints, a club like Rochdale can still have its ambition and motivation…..The supporters, too, yearn for greater things – a Cup run, the play offs, even promotion. Faith and hope will forever bond all football people.’

So when Aldershot Town ran out at Spotland they entered a familiar world….a world in balance.

48 matches between the ‘two clubs’….14 wins, 7 draws and 3 defeats for the Shots at the Rec and 14 defeats, 7 draws and 3 wins for the Shots at Spotland.

The 3v1 defeat no more than another statistic……..but it wasn’t funny.

Tonight we entertain another old favourite, Port Vale, in a game that will have ‘urgent improvement needed’ coursing through the arteries of every Aldershot fan.

But on the 67th birthday of Hank Marvin, The Shadows, it will be good to hear the sound of Apache rolling down from the East Bank to form a protective shield around Bully’s goal……

Der…Der…….Der…Der…Der…Der…Der …Der….

I’m off now in search of the single that reached ‘number one’ on August 25th 1960, just as I was about to begin my love affair with the Shots…..

It's time to shape up......

Having a laugh.....

So at last we know, official figures released yesterday confirm that the country is in recession.

But we shouldn’t be fearful of the current credit crisis, the housing crash and the plummeting value of the pound. No, not when we can sit back and listen to Alistair Darling, the Chancellor, who came out straight away with a commanding statement. ‘Yes, it’s going to be difficult, yes it’s going to be tough, but we can get through it’.

I’m reassured Alistair, …… ‘0.5 down and we are having a laugh’.

The Wednesday night defeat at the hand of a poor Chesterfield side was a truly painful experience. And on reflection the dismal performance withstood the test of a post match comparison with many of the away trips experienced in the final days of our former manager, Terry Brown.....

And as we all express our opinions on the tactics, substitutions, Chalmers in, give Donnelly a go....a role for Newman, give Bully a rest, bring back Rob Gier….and is Dean Hooper fit?.... I guess the experienced observer may just conclude that it is perhaps manager, Gary Waddock, who has to catch up with our promotion from Conference to League. Unless he quickly brings order to the chaos that we have witnessed in defence for too long, we are going to enter ‘recession’, and experience a very long hard winter.....

‘5v1 down and we are having a laugh’.

The last to light up.......

Tomorrow will be the 41st anniversary of the first Football League game to be played under floodlights at the Recreation Ground, Chesterfield. Yes, it is somewhat surprising to note that more than ten years after Portsmouth played the first League match under lights in February 1956, Chesterfield were the last to light up for Sky….

And the cost of the ‘new’ lights was offset by the sale of goalie John Osborne to West Bromwich Albion for £9,250, a decision that may just have cost the Club promotion from Division 4 that season. Compounded no doubt, by the Shots 2v1 win at the Chesterfield Rec, with goals from Howarth and Gowans, in front of a staggering 11,000 crowd……

So in just a few minutes I will be off to Derbyshire for a return to one of my favourite grounds….and for a Wednesday, 7.30 kick off.

Wednesday….7.30. Now that does seem strange.

Last Saturday Brentford sold out the ‘away end’, and pushed the crowd at the Recreation Ground above 5000 for the first time this season. 1v1 perhaps a fair result, as both sides failed to make much impact in front of goal.

Tonight will be a big test for Aldershot after a poor series of results ‘on the road’. Without doubt Gary Waddock will have to bring order to a midfield and defence that has conceded ‘soft’ goals in the last four away games.

Now is the time to earn your salary Gary…..now is the time to substitute organisation for the chaos that has taken up a seat on the 'Team Bus'.

'Enigma Variations'

‘If ever after I’m dead you hear a little tune amongst the bracken on these Hills, don’t be frightened as it will only be me humming the opening bars of my Cello Concerto’.

For 55 of his 76 years Edward Elgar lived within sight of the Malvern Hills. And despite a mystery surrounding the inspiration for the main theme for his ‘Enigma Variations’….a work that recalls key moments and people from his life…..he carried the secret of the haunting melody with him to his grave.

However I like the theory that the written melody follows the contours of the Malvern Hills, as seen from Claines Churchyard.

The Malvern Hills are breathtakingly beautiful, giving views over the Worcestershire and Herefordshire countryside. William of Malmesbury described the area as a “vast wilderness” and indeed, the name “malvern” seems to come from Gaelic “moel bryn” meaning "bare hill”, but these descriptions do not do the landscape justice. The names of the individual hills are more evocative: Perseverance, Pinnacle, Sugar Loaf and Midsummer.

And as I looked out to my left in search of freedom from the banality of the M50 and M5, the long drive from Wales to Macclesfield was instantly made so much more pleasurable by the serenity of the Malverns.

‘What’s happening….it’s the M42 and not the M5 (M6/NW)’, I exclaimed in a moment of panic. A signpost for Solihull flashed by as my wife asked if we wanted the next exit. My wife was driving. I was having a Jack Woolley moment (The Archers). It was Saturday and Aldershot were playing at Macclesfield. I was sure of that. But why was my wife with me…..?

And then it all fell into place…..Tom and Laura’s wedding. It was ‘International Weekend’ – England v Kazakhstan, and no Premiership fixtures, so what better day could there be to get married, especially when half of the Church wore Aston Villa ties.

Getting hold of programmes from the January 1964 FA Cup 3rd Round tie between the Villa and Aldershot was pretty easy. 0v0 at Villa Park and 2v1 to the Shots at the Rec. The first time the ‘mighty’ Villa had been beaten in the Cup by a team from outside of the top flight.

What a great wedding gift….‘There will be good days….and not so good days. Bad days and really bad days. And then there was the day Villa lost to the Shots…..’

Life in perspective….now I can’t remember if I mentioned the game to anyone on Saturday.

The wedding over, a pint in hand and news from the Moss Rose Stadium that Aldershot Town had capitulated at Macclesfield, losing 4v2…. my painful hangover on Sunday made worse by watching the video clips of the goals conceded.

I just hope the cause of our defeat is no ‘Enigma’ for Gary and Martin, and on Saturday we return to the youthful exuberance, power and pace….hunger and desire that will undoubtedly tear Brentford apart.

On the other hand, a win and three points will be just fine.

A good neighbour.....

I was driving through mid Wales a couple of weeks ago with Radio 5 as my front seat passenger. The mountains a towering contrast to the ‘studio audience’ that were being encouraged to comment on the Conservative Party Conference.

It was nearly time to stop for a roadside coffee when the presenter asked the assembly to compare the leadership qualities of David Cameron with those of Gordon Brown.

A young Manchester Uni law student, at a guess, was the fastest to the microphone….’well the best you can say about Cameron is that he would make a great neighbour’. He sat back and waited for the laughter that would confirm in his own mind the power of his thought.

I stopped alongside a tea bar and sat back and considered his view. Brilliant, after too many years of working with politicians, Government and Ministers at last I have a measure to determine my own vote. ‘Would I like him/her as a neighbour?’

Politicians are, after all analysis, the same….a change in political party leading the Country only resulting in a different set of losers. From Community Charge to local Income Tax no more than a shift of the sand, and a new cohort of those worse off.

And all Politicians have the same in-built survival kit. The one that would guarantee a place in a lifeboat on the Titanic.

But to be my neighbour would demand something that would lift them above the political killing fields.

Peter Mandelson is a survivor and someone to sit next to on a cruise ship, if icebergs are about but, ‘come round for supper Pete’. No, I can’t see it working. Ken Clarke however would do a great Bar-B-Q and with real ale no doubt….and Boris Johnson…perhaps a bit noisy but I think I could trust him with my collection of Aldershot Town programmes. I sense honesty in his behaviour not evident in Mandelson and, with breaking news, Sarah Palin….

Last Saturday Aldershot Town failed to get out of the trap and League leaders Bury cruised to a 3v0 lead without breaking sweat.

Rob Elvins scored a consolation goal with about 20 mins to go just as my thoughts were turning to the long drive back to Wales.

Then a penalty in front of the East Bank….the usual scrummage and a booking for the Bury goalkeeper, Brown. Now I have to say I didn’t see the incident that led to the booking, but television and my brother confirm that he appeared to be taking his horticultural NVQ seriously and was attempting to plant daffodils under the Recreation Ground penalty spot……Scott Davies scored. Danny Hylton made it 3v3 and the cheating Brown would not be welcome as our neighbour.

Tom and Laura’s wedding today means that I will be in Lapworth as the team run out at Macclesfield…..good luck to everyone.

Jimmy Sirrel 1922-2008

One way of making money during the 1920s was to buy stocks and shares.

Prices of these stocks and shares constantly went up and so investors kept them for a short-term period, and then sold them at a good profit.

And then in October 1929, ‘Stock prices virtually collapsed yesterday, swept downward with gigantic losses in the most disastrous trading day in the stock market's history. Billions of dollars in open market values were wiped out as prices crumbled under the pressure of liquidation of securities which had to be sold at any price.’

Nearly eighty years on and it is so reassuring to have Gordon in command. His calling for us all to join together to fight the ‘credit crunch’ an inspiration. And with 10 years of Treasury experience wrapped up in his dress suit, and aired annually at the Mansion House, Gordon knew that the Investment Bankers could be trusted with our money. He knew that they would always put our interests ahead of their Polo Ponies….that the yacht in the Med was no more than an essential office overhead.

‘Your dynamism allied to the City's openness has led London to innovate: the most modern instruments of finance, an ability to compete that depends upon an open competition policy which rewards and is a stimulus to innovation and which does not restrict new entry and so helps new companies, new products and new services to come into the marketplace.’ Gordon Brown, 21st June 2006.

But now Gordon says it is a good time to look closely at the way our financial markets are run…..and Gordon has brought Peter Mandelson back…..have I missed something?

Jimmy Sirrel was born in Glasgow seven years before the Wall Street Crash. He died 86 years later a ‘Legend’.


His playing career no more than a supporting role at Celtic, Bradford Park Avenue, Brighton and finally Aldershot, where he made 32 appearances between 1954 and 1956.

After a brief period in charge of Brentford, Jimmy joined Notts County in November 1969, taking them on a magical journey from Division 4 to the top flight.

When news of his death flashed across my computer screen last week, I went off in search of Jimmy Sirrel…..after all we were due to play Notts County at Meadow Lane, on Saturday September 27th, and Jimmy was a man of both clubs.

His playing career ended in 1956, so I never saw him play….and I think he was the trainer at the Recreation Ground in October 1960, when I saw the Shots for the first time. Nearly 12500 crammed into the Rec to see the ‘new boys’, Peterborough United, play out a 1v1 draw with my ‘new team’. Although to be truthful I can’t remember much about the game.

Despite being only a young lad I could feel the optimism of the 60’s. A resurgence that was quick to blow away the dreary austerity of post War Britain. But with Beatlemania still a little way off, my first visit to the Rec found the East Bank packed, but not rocking with the sound of, ‘Smithy Smithy give us a wave’ (Dave Smith , Manager) or even ‘Jimmy Sirrel is worth a million pounds….’

However I have a nice picture of Jimmy in the 1961/62 Supporters club handbook, so I do know he was one of us….

Looking back in search of Jimmy Sirrel, was like looking through a box of family photos, in pursuit of the sunny holidays we always had at Hayling Island. Feelings formed from disparate memories, distorted by time………and somehow never supported by the tiny black and white images stored safely away in the cupboard under the stairs..

But my quest to 'find' Jimmy Sirrel left me feeling that I should know him better. That I should be able say more than, ‘he played a few games for Aldershot, and he was the trainer for a few years…’

The legend of Jimmy Sirrel will live on in the minds of every present and future County supporter. It will be a memory burnished to a competing brilliance that may just result in Brian Clough walking across the Trent to have a word ‘young man’.

As for the game on Saturday….well Aldershot were by far and away the better team.


Notts County won 2v1, with a last minute winner.

I’m sure the Aldershot Town Manager, Gary Waddock, will have reflected on the manner of the defeat.

If Jimmy had been watching, he would have said….… ‘being the best team does not always make a winning team.’

From Turner to Rothko

It must have been mornings like this that inspired Turner to create so many of his great works.

By 7.30 the sun had gently removed the top layer of mist to leave our garden bathed in a warm, early autumn light. In the distance Somerset and Devon still wrapped up in their comfort blanket.

Another Saturday, and another long trip down the M4 to the Recreation Ground, Aldershot.

The Second Severn Crossing came out of the mist, like a majestic Transatlantic Liner breaking free from the shackles of the fog, that so often engulfs the Grand Banks off Newfoundland. Its towering form reaching ever upwards, in search of the milky blue sky above.


Yes, Turner would surely have painted this…….

Despite this brief ‘arty’ interlude it didn’t take me long to re-focus on the home game with Gillingham.

And yes, another apology. I have to admit to a bit of a ‘work overload’ this week, which has left poor old Gordon Brown to drink alone, from his cup of self pity at the Labour Party Conference and for all of us to look forward to the Government’s intervention to keep the ‘credit crunch’ at bay.

All of a sudden I feel overwhelmed by a Maginot feeling….so back to the Rec.

Aldershot were just too good for Gillingham. Goals from Kirk Hudson and Scott Davies sealed a well deserved, and never in doubt, victory.

I’m off to Nottingham now and the first visit for a long time, to the County. And with the sad passing of Jimmy Sirrell this week, a poignant reminder of years long ago…..

Heading for the Premier.......

On such a cold and damp September morning it’s hard to believe that Prestatyn was for more than a century the favourite destination for thousands of holiday makers.

The popularity, prosperity and growth of the resort started with the opening of the town’s railway station in 1848. Vast numbers of holiday makers and day trippers descended on the area in those early years – escaping the smoke and misery of Manchester and Liverpool in favour of the sun, sea and fresh air of the north Wales coast.

In 1923 Prestatyn Estates opened a ballroom and outdoor pool on the seafront. Then just as the ‘Great British Holiday’ reached its height of popularity, the Urban District Council modernised the facility in 1960, to create the Royal Lido and Ballroom.

Later to be renamed the Nova Centre, the Ballroom was for many years the ‘jewel in the entertainment crown’, giving opportunity to hundreds of rising stars in the 50s and 60s. And its zenith…..?

Without doubt, Friday 24th November 1962, just two days before they recorded Please Please Me, The Beatles played in front of a packed and screaming crowd at the ‘Nova’.

But today the call of an agent bringing news of a booking, on a Saturday night….in Prestatyn…at the Nova….no more than the affirmation that a bright career was coming to a close.

Yes, on such a cold and damp September morning the Nova sits just above the high tide mark, a forlorn reminder of the blazing summers of long ago….waiting for the inevitable. The next big tidal surge of value for money reviews, and it will be gone…...

‘Phil it’s the League on the phone.’ ‘The Premier?’ Philip Dowd replied with just a hint of uncertainty. ‘No, the Football League’, and Phil’s thoughts immediately migrated from Anfield to St Andrew’s.

If it had been a call to say that he had got ‘the’ job at Lehman Brothers the reaction would have been the same. Phil was stunned, and he wrestled with his tongue to deliver a response. ‘So you want me to do Luton against Aldershot’, his mind was now on fire with images of non-League football. The long forgotten ‘sticker’ book, with pictures of Jimmy Melia and Jack Howarth. Kenilworth Road, and where to park. And hadn’t Aldershot gone bust.

‘Who have you got then Phil?’….

’Don’t ask. Don’t ask.’

Luton Town have experienced good times…..an FA Cup Final defeat in 1959, winners of the Littlewoods Cup in 1988 and two periods in the top flight of English football…..but with the Club renamed ‘Luton Administration FC’ the future is now uncertain.

The Club moved to Kenilworth Road in 1905, playing their first match against Plymouth Argyle, and despite the current capacity set at 10,200, just over 30,000 crammed in for an FA Cup game against Blackpool in 1959. But now the sad old ground is incarcerated by concrete and urban sprawl, a forlorn reminder of the heady days and the walk up Wembley Way….waiting for the inevitable. The trap door to non-League football is poised to spring open……….


Luton Town played the first half on Saturday as if their lives depended on it……and when the season starts at -30 points I guess they can’t hang about for the Consultants’ diagnosis.

And Aldershot, who were ponderously slow to get going, very lucky to go in at half time only 1v0 down.

But the second half was to be different. Aldershot finding vigour and confidence to replace frailty and timidity. The pace throughout the team challenging the authority of Luton – 1v1 with just minutes to go. And then two late goals giving Luton a 3v1 home win.

Oh yes, and in the middle Philip Dowd, Premier League referee..

Opinion will always be divided on every ‘big’ decision. And of course incidents inevitably occur at the other end of the field; the distance from the action limiting objectivity, with prejudice compounded by an in-built myopic view.

I have no doubt that Dowd got some decisions right…perhaps even some of the important ones. But for all of Sunday and for much of this week it wasn’t the unacceptable quality of his decision making that I found hard to forget. No, it was the posturing arrogance of the man.

For every decision his chest was pumped up and inflated, his arm extended in a manner demanding respect. His eyes searching for anyone to fix onto….. players, spectators, managers…no one was safe.

’Yes, I’m right. I’m Philip Dowd. And if you stand still I will extend to you the opportunity to listen to my wisdom as well’.


Instant judgement and emotional writing was never going to produce a satisfactory reflection on Philip Dowd’s performance.

On Saturday I felt cheated; I had spent 90 mins distracted by the ‘man in black’. The splendour of John Grant’s first goal of the season and the electric pace of Hudson pushed to the back of my consciousness by such a gauche refereeing display.

Six days on, and the suffocating blanket of irrational thought has lifted and I can once again see clearly. Dowd is simply a victim of the avarice that pervades the Premier League. Of course the love of status is easy to see in the flashing eyes of Ronaldo and the post-affray demeanour of Joey Barton. But the contamination has spread unchecked, like the Black Death, from boardroom to stand….Toon Army to the Stretford Enders…..and with the art of Well Dressing confined to just a few areas of England, it was simply a matter of time before ‘the men in black’ joined the club.

But time heals, and with Aldershot Town in the ascendancy, last Saturday was no more than another game… three points to Luton, in support of their attempt to retain League status.

As for Philip Dowd I have a feeling his wish for Premier league football will be granted………

Histon is really easy to find. It’s just off the A14….head for the village, Phil, and you will find the ground on your right….loads of parking too. I’m sure you will receive a warm welcome in the Blue Square Premier………no more than the affirmation that a bright career was coming to a close.

Is it really one year ago......

‘He was like a cock who thought the sun had risen to hear him crow’ - (George Eliot)

It’s hard to believe, but today is the anniversary of Aldershot Town winning 3v2 at Oxford United, in the Blue Square Premier.

For many supporters the Scott Davies winner in the 94th minute at Torquay was the deciding moment in our promotion winning season…..but I developed a mood of optimism following victory at the Kassam. Oxford, the pre-season favourites to win the league…Aldershot just a bunch of kids. Yes, for me the 3v2 victory was to become the defining moment of last season. A day when the innocence of youth overcame the arrogance of experience.

And if you want to retrieve the feeling of joy that we all shared, have a look back to my blog of Sept 16th 2007….

But a warning to any Oxford fans …..it’s painful.

‘I’m sorry Oxford but this is non-league football. It’s not easy. And I have a feeling, you haven’t visited Moss Lane for the last time………….’ A Shot from Wales, 16/09/07.
Oh yes, and Oxford are back at Moss Lane, Altrincham, on October 12th 2008………a 'proper’ football ground with great fans….enjoy.

Last Saturday Aldershot Town entertained Darlington, in League 2.

After an exhilarating first half, that saw Aldershot play some of their best attacking football of the season, a second period in retreat left many in the 3400 crowd simply pleased to hear the final whistle

The final score 2v1…..and another 3 points.

And just a quick apology to……..sorry the blog is a bit brief again. But I should have more time next week.

So just time to say….Luton Town in a few hours and our first trip to Kenilworth Road for probably 40 years.

.

I love League 2.....

‘Newcastle have to change managers so often because quite simply they rarely pick the right bugger in the first place’.

Quote: Billy Furious, The Sunday Times, 30th Dec 2007

What a week it has been. It's rained a lot. And Brian, who has been painting the outside of our house for weeks, started to eye up my Sloe Gin, which is now just two days old....I reckon he will still be with us when it is ready to drink at Christmas.

And as I'm still recovering from the excitement of last weekend's victory over the fallen giants, Bradford City, I have no time to reflect on the goings on at Manchester City, West Ham and Newcastle.

Just time to focus on Darlington......and say no, I wouldn't want a billionaire to take over our Club. I love the Recreation Ground, and the combined effort of so many people that has resulted in us running out against the Quakers tomorrow, is something that 'millions' simply cannot buy.

The Shots are back........

After 86 mins of a pulsating game Scott Davies hit a shot that had ‘winner’ stamped all over it. Aldershot Town’s third goal was indeed one that would have graced any great stage.

The home supporters stood as one, their minds exploding with the intensity of excitement. The travelling 647 from Bradford silent, their minds imploding with the pain of, ‘from Premiership to defeat by ‘tin-pot’ Aldershot in 8 years’.


And then the final whistle – the Bradford players drifted from the field of play, heads bowed, well beaten and showing their age. Aldershot – as one in the centre circle, young and ‘on fire’ ready for more.

Despite twelve months of planning and ‘training’ the next two weeks were certainly going to be a challenge.

It was May 1992, my wife, nine year old son and I stood with our toes in the Irish Sea at St Bees Head, Cumbria. Ahead of us about 200 miles of the ‘Coast to Coast’ walk.

I can still remember the feeling of unease as I looked up and beyond the coastal hills, to the mountains of the Lake District and Pennines. They would cast a long shadow over the next seven days. And then, the North York Moors…… Robin Hood’s Bay seemed a lifetime away.

Of course we had put the necessary amount of work into our preparations for the walk. The Dorset and Pembrokeshire Coastal Paths were easy and Snowdon, by three different routes, had been a breeze at Easter. And we had accommodation booked and low level escape routes planned……But this was different, and no amount of ‘pre-season training’ could have prepared us for the moment.

The first few days were tough. The weather was great but the power of the Lakes made each day such a severe challenge.

Then as we sat in triumph on top of Kidsty Pike, at 2560ft the highest point on the walk (unless you take the Helvellyn detour), the challenge came clearly into focus. It wasn’t 13 days, 200 miles and a serious test of our mental and physical ability. It was on that afternoon no more than a couple of hours and then a few pints. And the next day, 15 miles and a few more pints. The goal of Robin Hood’s Bay, clear and welcoming. A goal that was not to be suffocated by the tedium of the Vale of Mowbray or the desolation of the North York Moors.



No, it was quite simple, we would enjoy the walk in the knowledge that we were fit and prepared for the test that each day would bring.

Walking around the headland to Robin Hood’s Bay brought our goal into sight. The ribbon of little houses clinging to the steep cliffs like limpets exposed at low tide. By the time my wife and I arrived at the slipway by the side of the Bay Hotel, to dip our toes in the North Sea, Malcolm was already up to his waist……..


The feeling of satisfaction…..perhaps the same emotions as the ones we all experienced when we secured a point at Exeter, and with it promotion back to the Football League.

After 86 mins it wasn’t just the winning goal that Scott Davies scored. The moment encapsulated all of last season’s joy. It was a reprise of the power and pace. The ability to play for 90 mins and always look like scoring one goal more than the opposition. The intensity of desire and the exuberance of youth.

Aldershot beat Bradford City 3v2 because they believed that they could……

It was no good my brother telling me ‘don’t worry’ as I returned from Shrewsbury, the previous week, without any focus for the season. It was about as good as telling a child not to worry the night before the A Level results are due out, and they need 5 A’s to secure a place at Oxford.

But on Saturday I was reminded of the power, energy and enthusiasm of youth – Aldershot Town never to be beaten. The view from Kidsty Pike was great.

The Shots are back and we can go up…….

Darlington at home next Saturday.

90 mins….3pts and ignore the rest.

Firmatas, Utilitas, Venustas........

Visiting Shrewsbury Town, last Saturday, was a first for me. And no, not for the obvious reason….the first game between Shrewsbury and Aldershot to be played out at the ‘New Meadow’.

After watching Aldershot for nearly 48 years Saturday 23rd August 2008 will go down as the first time that I was required to read a comprehensive ‘Travel Plan’ before leaving home to attend a Shots game.

And how reassuring it was to read that I had such a wide range of options…..walk, cycle or motorcycle, taxi, bus, coach, park and ride, park and walk…….

But I travelled north last Saturday with a troubled mind. It was after all my first game of the season and just like going back to school after the long summer break, it was inevitable that I would feel expectantly nervous.

Shrewsbury had already been identified by the knowledgeable as ‘promotion favourites’, and who was I to dismiss such certainty about a club that had been such a rare visitor to the Rec over the years. Although the Shrews did feature in two of my ‘Shots lifetime’ memorable games.

In 1979 we were within minutes of playing Wolves in the FA Cup Quarter Final…..but Malcolm Crosby fancied a midweek replay at Gay Meadow, he gave the ball away….Shrewsbury scored and then went on to win the replay, after extra time. And in more recent times the 2004 Conference Play Off final, at Stoke, will be remembered by our travelling fans as perhaps one of the greatest defeats ever.

At this point I had intended writing a piece about the apparent stupidity of building a football ground ‘out of town’, underpinned by a Borough Plan statement that required the Club to satisfy a series of criteria including, ‘adequate parking and servicing (to) be provided within the site’, only for the requirement to be the subject of a counter balance reference to a parking standard of 1:15. No doubt this led to the problem being resolved by the ‘Shrewsbury and Atcham green transport department’ and the oh so clever creation of a match day exclusion zone around the ground. Gosh how they must have loved the ‘brainstorming’ sessions that resulted in….no private car ‘drop off’, no Taxis 'to the door', loads of BMX bikes. I have no doubt the plan is great….but I wouldn’t want to be in a 10,000 crowd on a cold and damp January evening, when more than 7000 spectators would be required to park and walk/ride…..the safe management of the decanted supporters simply a nightmare.


And as I find it so hard to consider the concrete bowl of the 'New Meadow' in context with Vitruvius, I will return to my feeling of unease.


Promotion secured at Exeter last season satisfied a 16 year obsession….. our return to the Football League. But what next? Manchester Utd and Liverpool have won the European Cup (Champions League) and they can go on and win it again and again….it is no doubt a perpetual obsession for their supporters. But for Aldershot our return to League action restores the club to what? History would suggest decades of mediocrity, mixed up with the odd freezing trip to Liverpool for an FA Cup 3rd round fixture and a promotion to League 1 soon to be followed by relegation.

So I sat in the Brooklands Hotel and reflected….at this point I must own up and apologise to the author of the ‘Travel Plan’. Sorry, sorry, sorry….. I ignored this bit of the comprehensive document, ‘parking on this site (Brooklands Hotel) is designated for home fans only’.

The crescendo of emotions that finally lit up the Exeter sky when promotion was secured, now no more than a warm and satisfying glow. Travelling 16000 miles this season would be for what purpose…..in search of what….to achieve what?

But then I guess the team and management have the same problem. For much of Saturday’s game Aldershot were the better side. Comfortable in possession and confident in defence. But at no time did the Shots work out how to release the pace that can be sourced throughout the team. The pace and power that became the hallmark of last season.

A few long range efforts gave Nikki Bull a bit of practice in the Shots goal and then after 79 mins it was 1v0 and the game was lost.

The team and management will need to grow up very quickly if I am to establish a meaning for another long season on the road.

Bradford City on Saturday……and a new focus.

I’m working on it……

The season starts and I'm.......

So just as the new football season was about to start we found ourselves travelling down to Avignon, to stay with Martine and Jean-Jacques for a couple of weeks. Martine has been a friend for more than 33 years, in fact ever since I picked her up from Norwich Station on a very hot July evening in 1975. Now Principal of a Business School, Martine spent a year in England as an ‘exchange teacher’, the result of an introduction made by another long time friend, Didier, who now lives just outside of Montpellier.

The south of France has held a fascination with so many people for centuries. The Romans were the first to wake up to the potential of the region and invaded in the 1st century BC – clearly they weren’t daft, as Tavel and Chateauneuf-du-Pape are undoubtedly very fine wines. Then in the 14th century the Pope determined that the Papacy would be better served with a holiday home in Avignon rather than Tuscany.

And today it is the turn of the British. The extension of the Home Counties to embrace Vaucluse and the rest of Provence no more than an attempt to extend the Fulham Broadway beyond the Tube Station and Kebab Shop.

And sandwiched in between our time in Avignon…..a few days in Barcelona.

Barcelona is a vibrant city, but one in danger of being overcome by the insatiable demands of young people.

During the long hot summer months the streets and metro experience the daily crushing migration of sun worshippers from home to beach to bar. And by 8pm the many desirable and exclusive restaurants are hidden away under a sea of tattoos.

Yes, Barcelona, once famous only for its football team and a few iconic buildings designed by Gaudi, has discovered economic growth.

New apartment blocks and offices are stretching the city boundary ever outwards and upwards. The port now modern and busy, seamlessly joining the city with the Mediterranean.

And new transport links with the rest of Europe, good hotels and clean beaches underpin the rampant growth in prosperity.

Without researching the genetics of such a renaissance I would imagine that the Olympics, in 1992, can claim much of the credit for the change in urban fortune. And this despite the sporting legacy being no more than a 20th century replica of the Roman Arènes de Nîmes and the aqueduct at Pont du Gard. Yes, the Olympic Park is now forlornly stranded in Montjuic, high up above the city, with about as much chance of getting to the beach and sea as Noah, when he woke up to find himself stuck on top of Mt Ararat.


I have no doubt most of the UK danced the night away in celebration of the Team GB Gold in the Yngling Class.

Yes, probably just like all of Spain in 1992, when they finished 6th in the medal table, with 13 gold, 7 silver and 2 bronze.


But four years later Team Spain lost its funding and dropped to 13th in the table, with a return of only 4 gold medals. And today they continue to languish in 13th place, again with just 4 gold medals, helped in part by Rafa Nadal winning the tennis. So much for the Spanish Government’s commitment to the long term development of sport.

Perhaps now is a good time to say, ‘no’ to the all so common Government obsession of intervention and ‘spending’ driven by political vanity alone.

Resting beside the pool in Avignon I found it predictably frustrating trying to keep up with the score from Accrington Stanley, in our opening match of the season – Aldershot Town FC, back in the Football League.

But then I only have myself to blame. Avoiding the pain of emails and the addictive fascination of the Internet is a discipline to be upheld, if relaxation is to be total. And so with a Trappist heart but a head full of, ‘who is playing in midfield….is Morgan going to partner Grant up front?’ I lay back and waited for the ‘plaintive call of a text’.

For much of Saturday evening, August 6th it was 0v0. Then in the early hours of Sunday, the final score of, Accrington Stanley 0 Aldershot Town 1, popped up on my phone. Followed six hours later by a picture taken of the ground just before kick-off. And then a video message of Scott Donnelly’s beautiful free kick was received to complement the aperitifs, before dinner on Sunday night!

The midweek Carling Cup game at Coventry was, however, much more straightforward – my brother sent a text at full time, ‘Shots lose’.

And with the phone not quite fully acclimatised to the heat of Avignon, I received a picture of the Aldershot crowd being held back after the home game with Bournemouth, 24 hours before I received a pre-match picture, taken from our ‘new seats’ in the North Stand. And the final score of 1v1 was known long before I received the half-time message telling me it was 0v0.

Gosh, I am pleased to be home………and with four points secured from the opening two league fixtures, we can look forward to Shrewsbury Town on Saturday with an optimism well and truly founded on the exuberance of our play last season.

Future prospects..........

Despite the national addiction to holidays, the timing of them is invariably inconvenient. So with the football season about to start, and with Aldershot Town back in the League, we find ourselves packing our bags and heading south to meet up with friends in Avignon.

And I reckon this week has been pretty much the same for me, as it has been for the many who ‘turn up the turbocharger’, in an attempt to ‘clear the desk’ before the last call for ‘BA flight 345’ to Minorca.

Yes, it was with some discomfort that I wrestled with the prospect of leaving home without getting my blog going for the new season. No doubt the same pain that David Miliband was suffering as he struggled to clear his desk of Iraq, Iran, Zimbabwe, Russia, Sudan and……but ‘I must get the new Labour vision to the Guardian before I go off on my hols….if only I had more time….oh our foreign policy can wait. I must write a few thousand supportive words before the last call for BA flight 345….’

Poor old Gordon. The Guardian piece, written by a ‘friend’ and designed to make his holiday in Southwold just a bit more enjoyable.


And I have such a strong image of his smiling face, the relaxed look, his soft and caring eyes scanning the daily papers.

Southwold is without doubt an inspirational place. And this, despite the ‘extension of London’s suburbs’ in the 1980s. The buying up of fishermen’s cottages with City bonuses resulted in the town losing its idyllic and secret retreat status. But the innate Suffolk charm prevails. The Adnams beer simply the finest and the Red Lion always a welcome retreat.


And as Gordon looks out from the Southwold Sailors’ Reading Room, out across the steel-grey North Sea. Can he see Siberia….no of course not. But if he opens the door he will feel it. And with that his thoughts will no doubt turn to……no not young Miliband, he is long gone. No perhaps with the impending change to his work-life balance….perhaps now is the time to buy a season ticket for Raith Rovers.

Aldershot Town are in the Football League. Many of us will say, ‘back in the Football League’, ameliorating the loss of our former Club in 1992. For the pedants and the youngsters who follow our club, it is quite right to record that Aldershot Town has climbed from nowhere to the League in 16 years. A remarkable achievement and one that may never be repeated.

I returned to the Recreation Ground a few weeks back to watch a pre-season friendly against Crystal Palace. I normally give such games a wide berth. My Aldershot carbon footprint is big enough without adding to it unnecessarily.

However I was in London and I wanted to check out the new seating arrangements, following the building works to make the Directors Box larger, a bit of pre-season training could be justified.


And when I got to the Recreation Ground it looked pretty good. Fresh paint everywhere. A splendid playing surface. Better access to the seats in the North Stand.

Yes, the hard work of the many volunteers was there for all to see….well done and thank you, from all of us who will simply turn up every week to follow the Shots.

But as the game unfolded my thoughts turned to the new turnstile arrangements, the ‘no standing at the High Street end’ rule, the 'no half-time migration' rule, no smoking anywhere, no tea hut behind the North Stand, the new stewards….and so many of them, the CCTV cameras, the Police Control Room………

……..Aldershot has had to catch up with 16 years of ‘progress’ in just three months.

Ah yes, I must mention the football prospects.

Plenty of pace and power…..see you all at Shrewsbury when I get back from my holidays.

A new season.....

After the excitment generated by our return to the Football League, this summer has seemed just a bit flat.

I keep telling myself that a trip down to Avignon and then onwards to Barcelona, to visit friends, is something to look forward to. But then I'm reminded by my brother that I will miss our opener at Accrington, the midweek trip to Coventry and our first home game against Bournemouth. To counter these mind games my wife affirms that the 16000 miles on the road to watch the Shots this season will come at a personal cost much greater than that incurred by the spiralling price of petrol, the Severn Bridge Toll and overnight accommodation in Darlington!

Ok, I will do my best to display a fascination with the architecture of Gaudi.

Postscript.....

‘Look I understand, Aldershot are back in the Football League. I know you are really pleased. But don’t you think I have suffered enough. Your trips, to goodness knows where, every Saturday. Business meetings in Carlisle on a Friday night. So, no. The ‘Clubcall’ board is not going up on the wall of our house. And no, it will not be erected at the entrance to our drive.’

‘Ok, what about developing a sculpture garden? I could tuck the board away somewhere discreet’, I ventured, knowing what would come next.

‘No.’

It’s funny how confident my wife can be on matters over which she has no knowledge whatsoever. An irresistible determination displayed by someone who has never been to a game of football.

And I wouldn’t say that Rugby was her passion, that is reserved for all things equestrian. But she has been to the odd game over the years. She was born in Leicester, so when the Tigers got to the European Cup Final in Cardiff a few years ago, I used a bit of influence and got tickets for her and Uncle Doug in the VIP block. I guess she knew all along that this was part of my master plan to get the ‘board’ up on the wall.

The loss of our Club in 1992 affected so many people. And when the last few bits and pieces were sold at auction, in the summer of that year, I was far away. With no interest in the sale, just getting on with a new life in Wales.

And isn’t it strange how the aftershock of an event, that took place just 18 days before we kicked off away to Burnley, in our last season in the Football League, can still be felt in our house today.

August 6 1991 was the day that links to the fledgling computer code for the www went world wide. And of course in no time at all eBay was born.

It seemed a bargain at the time. The old Clubcall board was a piece of Aldershot history that needed conserving. Just what I needed to add to my burgeoning collection of Shots memorabilia. Long gone the sadness over the loss of our club. The future was one wrapped up in optimism. Promotion came on top of promotion. Perhaps the return of League status could be achieved.

So without any thought of how I would get the board back to Wales from Aldershot, in my car. And without the courage to let my wife know what I had bought off eBay. The deal was done. The board was mine.

‘Can I have your car on Saturday?’, was never going to be a question answered with a simple, ‘Yes.‘ So I hired a big car and collected the sign before the next ‘home’ game.

To say that my wife was excited by my purchase would be a line that only the Government could utter in such circumstances. Truth and statement being linked only by the fact that the statement was untrue.

‘Put it in the cellar. It is too big. Too ugly. Too…..well just too football’. My wife seemed determined to conserve the sign for future generations by protecting it from the Welsh weather.

And in the cellar it has been for many years.

Aldershot Town FC Blue Square Premier - Champions 2008. ‘So to celebrate what about granting just temporary ‘consent’. For a few months of the year?’

‘No’.

Have I got old news for you......

Alistair Darling is an inspiration…….

I’ve been putting off writing this ‘end of season blog’ for weeks. ‘I will put some thoughts down after the play-off semis’, I pledged as we travelled back from Rushden, on April 26th. ‘No, perhaps I will wait until after the FA Trophy Final. No, why not hang on until we see who comes out on top in the battle of the also-rans. Yes, wait until after the Blue Square Premier Play-off Final.’

But then this morning Alistair delivered an infusion of adrenaline that resulted in a powerful feeling, similar to the one created by ‘the Scott Davies goal in the last minute at Torquay.’

All season we have ‘ignored the rest.’ So no more prevarication, here is my quick look back at the winners and losers from our championship winning year.

But I can’t start the review without first, putting Alistair to one side. After all it was his grey tones on Radio 4 this morning that got me going.

What a great idea. Borrow £2.7bn to give those on low and middle income an extra £120 this year.

Now I worry about Alistair. A trip to the cash point. Two cards in his wallet. He needs cash….£120, to buy a birthday present for his wife. One card says VISA Debit, the other VISA. Gosh, ‘I think one of these is a credit card. And if I use it, I will be paying off the interest for years’ Credit…Debit. ‘Oh, this is so confusing’, Alistair pauses, waiting for advice from Number 10, then uses his credit card.

Droylsden, Farsley and Stafford were poor sides that were never going to be good enough to compete with so many full-time teams, in the Conference. And as I wrote way back in September, after our 5v0 win, Northwich would be relegated ‘unless some miracle occurs between now and their last game….’ Dino Maamria, was appointed manager at the end of September 2007. Perhaps not a miracle worker….more an advocate of discipline and hard work.

The season came to a close with Altrincham, yet again, filling one of the relegation berths. Only to survive with the sad demise of Halifax Town. A situation that will only serve to remind Oxford Utd that it was a just a bit arrogant to write in their programme notes, ‘the thing is, Altrincham still are plucky non-leaguers, and last Saturday they were as plucky as a chicken on the run from Bernard Matthews.’ No doubt Oxford supporters will feel more at home in the comfortable surroundings of the Racecourse Ground, Wrexham and Field Mill, Mansfield…..in another season of non-league football.

Northern Rock, now they were massive winners. They mess up big time. And we all give them £50bn. Simple, and it makes Alistair’s £2.7bn tax give away look like sound economics.

Sir Menzies (Ming) Campbell went without any obvious aftershock and Peter Hain disappeared with a flurry of, ‘it’s absurd.’ Yes, I know that keeping track of political donations can be hard work. So, yes it is quite absurd to consider that a man who failed to keep tabs on £103,000 could be in any way involved in the management of a £50bn underwriting of Northern Rock.

Aldershot Town’s season started to take shape in September. A 1v1 draw at the Abbey Stadium, Cambridge, evidence for the first time of the ‘passion and pace’ that would lead to 31 victories and 101 points. ‘And the obvious difference between this season and the previous two…..all of the players want(ed) to play.’

Jack Dromey…..what a loser he turned out to be. I bet he felt so clever when he called Boris Johnson a ‘tufty toff from Eton’ at the Labour Party Conference. Now I haven’t seen Boris on the TV lately….perhaps the Mayor of London is a full-time job, Jack.

Torquay came to the Recreation Ground in August, hit long balls forward and won 3v0. Then in March 2008 the Shots went to Plainmoor and won 2v1. ‘The explosion of emotion in the away end powerful and beyond control. The silence on two sides of the ground, a shroud for the pain felt by 3500 Torquay supporters.’

Aldershot Town were going up as Champions……

A squad of young players bound together by a common and genuine desire to be successful. Power and pace nurtured so beautifully by the management team, proved to be just too good for the rest.

And the biggest winner this season? Now that is something for you to determine.

And as we all prepare for next season, we must promise to never forget the pain of 1992; perhaps ameliorating the thoughts with flashbacks of the welcome extended to all Shots supporters in so many social clubs across the country.

‘No Club has a ‘right’ to membership of the Football League. And our place, somewhere closer to the ‘top table’ has been achieved not by the outstanding goalkeeping of Nikki Bull or indeed the youthful exuberance of our young squad, but it has been achieved through the combined emotional power of so many people over the period 1992-2008.’

Not every game next season will be,’ another game …three points’, so be prepared to recall the power of our celebration when we lost to Shrewsbury in the 2004 Conference Play-off Final.

We have enjoyed 16 years of corporate growth, illuminated by promotion...promotion.…promotion…..promotion and promotion.

But I’m not ready to check the best route to Latvia, for a first round Intertoto Cup game against Skonto Riga….Bury will do me just fine, for now.

The point gained at Exeter, on April 15th 2008, just a moment in a lifetime of emotion.

A Shot from Wales is now on holiday……see you next season.

'Hope, friendship and strength'

Looking back, I’m not sure if I travelled to the Recreation Ground last Tuesday in a ‘party mood’. Perhaps the thousands of miles travelled this season in support of the Shots had finally taken control of my senses. So many miles. So many late nights. So many wins……

And in a game played out to satisfy the survival needs of Weymouth, my attention was distracted by news from Edgar Street, Hereford.

My phone flashed….Wrexham were one nil down at Hereford….then two nil. Relegation to the Blue Square Premier now secured for a club who entered the Football League in 1921, just five years before Aldershot.

The Shawshank Redemption is one of the most popular movies, probably of all time. Despite failing at the movie theatres, after its release in 1994, it achieved public acclaim by way of video, cable television and DVD.

And quite coincidentally, filming took place at the same time as Aldershot Town played out their first season in Diadora League Division 3 (1992/3).

The original story called Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption was written by Stephen King, and appeared in a collection of four stories called Different Seasons.

As the text message confirmed the harsh reality of relegation for Wrexham, my attention drifted from the stalemate being played out of the Rec and returned to the Racecourse Ground, and May 30th 2006.

After months of financial uncertainty, High Court action and Administration, I was required to attend the meeting of creditors to register a vote in favour of the Company Voluntary Arrangement, confident that the difficulties of the past could be swept away. And with new owners waiting to takeover, the club could once again perform in a manner consistent with their history.

But after two seasons of on the field failure Wrexham are in a state of corporate despair, as they search desperately for the locations of Nailsworth and Histon. The Blue Square Premier will certainly be a 'shock to the system'. Aldershot didn't have to visit 'The Dripping Pan - Lewes'. But I have no doubt that it will be small, and probably intense. Despite any concern over the unknown, a warm and friendly welcome will be extended by most clubs. But beware, any hint of 'we are too big for this League' will be harshly treated. My advice to all Wrexham supporters is therefore simple. Hire the Shawshank Redemption DVD and observe the treatment of arrogance throughout the film….

York City dropped out of the League under the headline, ‘we will be the Arsenal of the Conference’, and they certainly are!

Like Arsenal, no trophies again.

The Shawshank Redemption is a powerful story of hope, friendship and strength.

Aldershot Town are Champions.

After the party......

After nearly eight months of planning, effort and achievement the party was, when it arrived at Exeter, one to savour. And how the creators of our ecstasy must have celebrated. Singing, and no doubt dancing, long into the night.

The following day my world seemed just grey and flat. The Champagne laced with adrenalin served only to dull the brain, making any sensible thought a step too far.

‘Did we really play in red shorts?’, I enquired of my brother. The night before no more than a footnote in the Times….’promoted’.

And then on Thursday of last week, I checked my diary and was surprised to read that the season wasn’t over. How could I have forgotten the long standing commitment to go up to Halifax to meet old friends.

Arriving at the Shay was a stark reminder that the last partygoers, probably about ten years ago, stripped the place of all fixtures and fittings. The ground a forlorn and windswept rusting hulk.

Gosh, how we all tried to be cheerful. Even the players attempted to raise our spirits. A brief injection of pace and purpose by Kirk Hudson and a few ‘step-overs’ by Joel Grant added a bit of zest to ameliorate our combined hangovers.

0v0.……….and thoughts turned to Tuesday evening.

The final home game. A full house. The presentation of the Blue Square Premier Trophy…….who would have predicted that, as we kicked off the season at Kidderminster, way back in August of last year?

The risen Phoenix....

The barren urban form of Northfleet was never going to be a fitting venue for a performance that would determine the return of Aldershot to the Football League.

To have witnessed promotion at Stonebridge Road would have been like experiencing the return of Nigel Kennedy to public acclaim, after a self-imposed exile, in the South Bank underpass and not within the restored splendour of the Royal Festival Hall.

But it was not simply the surroundings that made Ebbsfleet inappropriate. Had Aldershot Town secured promotion on April 8th 2008 it would have been as a result of Torquay’s failings.

Aldershot Town reached the top of the Blue Square Premier in October 2007.…they have been top ever since….by winning games.

So as the players travelled back to Aldershot, after a hard fought draw, the points needed for promotion were down from 5 to 4.

And then Burton Albion, last Saturday. Another chance for Torquay to fail in their quest to reduce the massive points gap. An expectant but nervous crowd of nearly 6000 all praying for a Torquay slip up. Another Shots win left the revised promotion points target….one point from the four remaining games.

Around 900 Shots fans made the trip to St James’ Park on Tuesday evening……it would prove to be just another game….one point…..ignore the rest.

Looking back I guess the terminal illness that struck Aldershot FC could have been diagnosed long before December 28th 1991, when the Shots recorded their last League win; 2v1 v Maidstone Utd. What followed was an experience that no football supporter should ever be subjected to.

The death of our once proud Club was painful. From January to March 1992, Aldershot played 16 games, lost 14, drew 2 and scored just 2 goals.

1374 fans saw the ‘last game’ at home to Northampton Town on March 7th 1992. Then death was held off….the heart flickered and Lincoln City attracted a crowd of 1473 programme collectors to the Recreation Ground, for what had to be the last game.

But the ‘big needle’ was nowhere to be found, and it was Ninian Park, Cardiff on March 20th 1992, that saw Aldershot pass away.

The Football League statement that followed the High Court decision was short and to the point….’The liquidator called in to supervise the winding-up order of Aldershot confirmed to the League that no offers had been received for the club. It is with deep regret that the League is left with little alternative but to announce that Aldershot’s membership is terminated with immediate effect’.

It was so hard to watch Aldershot gasping for breath over the final weeks of life. Each visit to the Recreation Ground undertaken with a dutiful resilience. A responsibility normally reserved for the few to attend at the bedside of an aged relative…….and when death finally came we were released to get on with our lives.

The rebirth of senior football in Aldershot, created from the ashes of the old club, was for me, no more than a distant ‘play thing‘. The start of the 1992/3 season coincided with a move away from London and the south east. Aldershot Town was still an ‘obsession under construction‘.

My ‘big’ brother constantly pulls my leg about the lame excuse, ‘but I live in Wales’, offered when I couldn’t get to Collier Row for a Tuesday night fixture. Yes, ‘where were you at Royston Town?’….he chides, forgetting his absence at Carlisle on Tuesday 28th December 2004.

But in those ‘early years’ my infrequent trips back to the Rec always left me with the feeling of ‘ghosts from Christmas past’.

After parking close to Redan Hill, the walk down to the ground exposed deep seated emotions. The floodlights coming into view first, then the East Bank, the North Stand followed by a glimpse of the ageing but classic form of the South Stand. Everything was in place…..

And looking around in the North Stand the faces were the same. Perhaps all showing signs of age but still no wiser.

Promotion to the Conference at the end of the 2002/03 season coincided with my own ‘life changing’ moment.

The season started in hospital and ended up at Stoke. A season that exposed the senses to the beauty of power and pace. A confidence developed in innocence. And the play-off final. Simply an explosion of excitement dressed only in a feeling of community pride.

A memorable day to store alongside my first game at the Rec in 1960, and Aston Villa (’64), and Manchester Utd (‘70), and Liverpool (‘71), and Stockport (72/3), and Shrewsbury (’79), and Wolves (86/7), and Jack Howarth……

So as I reflect on the 1v1 draw at Exeter on Tuesday evening, it wasn’t just another game…one point….ignore the rest.

No, this result returned to Aldershot a status that was so painfully taken away in 1992.

No Club has a ‘right’ to membership of the Football League. And our place, somewhere closer to the ‘top table’ has been achieved not by the outstanding goalkeeping of Nikki Bull or indeed the youthful exuberance of our young squad, but it has been achieved through the combined emotional power of so many people over the period 1992-2008.

And as the realisation of, ‘we’re going up as Champions’, begins to sink in, I am concerned that with the obsession of League football realised, I simply don’t know how I’m going to feel as the new season kicks off in August.

But then as Roald Amundsen once said, ‘I’ve done the South Pole….I may just have a go at the North’.

Time to focus.....

It’s going to be a long day and I have to admit to a degree of nervous tension. So it is at times like this that a 0630hrs walk with Wini, our Welsh Sheepdog, is more effective than a prescribed beta blocker.

The air was crisp and clear as the thin early morning sun removed the lingering and gently frozen sign of winter from the fields high above our house.

In the distance the north Devon coast, an image just waiting to be hung in Tate Britain. And beyond Exeter. Perhaps a bit of work this morning and then…….

The people of Tibet are oppressed and the Chinese Government seem to struggle with the concept of human rights.

And?

Well, I suppose with it nearly being time for another ‘carnival’ dressed up as the Summer Olympic Games, it is hardly surprising that athletes from across the world have come forward to take part in the ancient sport of ‘torch stealing‘.

Despite Pierre de Coubertin founding the International Olympic Committee in 1894, which led to the first Summer Olympics in 1896, it was not until the Amsterdam Games in 1928, that the commemoration of the theft of fire from the Greek god Zeus by Prometheus was reintroduced.

The modern convention of moving the Olympic Flame via a relay from Olympia to the Olympic venue began with the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin.

And Leni Riefenstahl’s film Olympia released in 1938 was not only the first documentary film on the Olympic Games, but without doubt the finest.

So as Adolf Hitler prepared to lay his beach towels down over most of Europe the idea to add myth and mystique to the modern German Reich became an opportunity just too good to miss.

‘The sportive, knightly battle awakens the best human characteristics. It doesn’t separate, but unites the combatants in understanding and respect. It also helps to connect the countries in the spirit of peace. That’s why the Olympic Flame should never die.’ - Adolf Hitler 1936.

Now those are the emotions we would all subscribe to…..but given the horrors soon to engulf Europe and the Far East, perhaps Berlin was truly the end of the Olympic dream.

So the recent attempts to extinguish the Flame as it travels an incredible 137,000km to Beijing only adds a footnote to the history of the ‘Political Olympics’. A history that spans the Soviet Union’s cold shoulder of the Games until 1952, the tragic deaths of 9 Israeli athletes at Munich in 1972, the boycott by 65 nations of the Games in Moscow in 1980 because of the Soviet Union’s invasion of Afghanistan….now where have I heard that name before?

Perhaps it is time to return the Games to Olympia. An opportune moment to call time on this archaic sporting event. Time to question the relevance of the Olympics in a media driven ‘consumer world’.

And just how much is a gold medal in a rowing event really worth?

Well on ‘Redgrave day’ most of the nation sat expectantly on the edge of their seats. And with another gold medal performance didn’t we all sing and dance. A nation all waving the flag in a manner reminiscent of the outpouring of joy that surrounded the marriage of Charles and Di.

Well perhaps the flag-waving was not so obvious in Kirkcaldy, and the emotion was a I’m sure somewhat muted west of the Second Severn Crossing.

But I have no doubt, the 5800 spectators who crammed into the Recreation Ground, Aldershot, on Saturday are only concerned about the fitness of John Grant and our chances of securing the point needed to ‘go up as Champions’, at Exeter this evening. The prospects of the Quadruple Four can wait for another day.

Time, I think, to replace the vanity of government with a genuine value for money review of the benefits of the Olympics.

Jacques Rogge made the dramatic announcement at 1249BST on July 6th 2005, that London would host the 2012 Games. (Prime Minister) Tony Blair called the win ‘a momentous day’ for Britain.

Well for once he got it right!

It was time to join in with the flag-waving supporters who had gathered in Trafalgar Square to hear the news. And a hand of sympathy should have been extended by us all to our ‘friends’ across the Channel, who simultaneously received the result underneath a dismal blanket of cloud……then raindrops began falling on the disappointed crowd of Parisians outside the Hotel de Ville.

But hang on a minute Tony. Who was it that gave you the £2.4bn estimate of costs? Now at the time I was somewhat surprised, as the cost of the 2004 Athens Games was declared, in November 2004, to be no less than £6bn (not including the cost of transport projects)

In fact the Athens Games were five times over budget.

Not to worry though, because as Spyros Capralos, Technical Director of the Athens Olympic Organising Committee, admitted, ‘when it’s the Olympics, you worry about paying for it later’.

Well that time is approaching very fast. And is Tony still around to defend the commitment? Of course not, he is long gone and poor Tessa Jowell, Minister for the Games, reassures that the cost will be no more than £9.325bn. Most observers report that the budget is already £12bn and a figure of £20bn is more likely. That is unless Robert Mugabe is asked to prepare the final account.

In 1948 the Summer Olympics were held in London. After a break of 12 years caused by World War Two these were the first Summer Olympics since the 1936 Berlin Games.

The 1940 Games had been scheduled for Tokyo and the 1944 Games provisionally planned for London.

The ‘austerity Games’ cost only £600,000 to stage and remarkably made a £10,000 profit.

The equestrian events were held at Tweseldown Racecourse and at the Military Stadium, Aldershot…….


And after a nervous 90 minutes, last Saturday, Aldershot Town overcame a Burton Albion side devoid of anyone with the ability to put the ball beyond Nikki Bull in the Shots goal.

With most of the 5800 crowd hoping for a Stevenage victory over Torquay, the tension could be felt all around the ground, and by the end we were all relieved to record…..

90 minutes….3 points….one less game to play.

If only we could ignore the rest.


Exeter City will have to block out the fear of failure tonight. Another season of getting so close but falling at the last. Perhaps a season that will see the immediate return to the Football League of their south coast rivals, Torquay.

Yes, if we play with the confidence, pace and power that has been the hallmark of this season the one point needed for our own return to the League will be secured.

High expectation.....

So many games and so little time……

The expectations were certainly running high as around 900 Shots fans made the tiresome trip, around the M25, to Northfleet last Tuesday evening.

And having to travel from Wales, I would easily place Ebbsfleet in my top five, ‘I don’t want to go there’ trips. It is a long way….the traffic is always bad and it is not pretty.

But on Tuesday evening the sun shone….our spirits were high and the National Grid crossed my view from the broken down terrace with a majesty…..

No it looked just like it always does. And not even the stunning azure above could convince me otherwise.

Ebbsfleet threatened. Aldershot were pretty comfortable. Ebbsfleet scored and we drew level. Then John Grant scored a second.

And then news from Plainmoor flowed around the ground. A trickle of knowledge overtaken by a torrent of excitement; the news of Oxford drawing at Torquay swallowed up all in its path like the annual birth of a river in the plains of Africa.

"We were going up as Champions….".

Torquay scored a second after 78 mins….Ebbsfleet equalised in the 88th.

If only we could all remember that promotion will be achieved through the winning effort of our team and not by the failings of others.

Burton Albion today….90 mins…three points….one less game to play.

If only we could ignore the rest.

So near......

The Canal Age in Britain lasted, pretty roughly, from 1760 to 1850, taken over at the end by the advance of railways.

The impact of the waterways extended way beyond the base of the industrial revolution. Yes, they were more than simply a means of transport; they influenced business organisation, revolutionised the engineering profession, employed large gangs of men - the navigators or navvies - on their construction. And above all they led to the development of Towns and the urban pattern that we know so well today.

In a list of all time canal engineer greats, James Brindley would probably appear at number one. Born near Buxton in 1716 his work lives on to this day, in a British Waterways network that gives pleasure to tens of thousands of narrowboat enthusiasts.

So it was with thoughts turning to the industrial revolution that we set out from Great Haywood, last Saturday (29/03), for a stress releasing week completing the Black Country Ring.

A week when it is so easy to contemplate Man’s contribution to the landscape. A week designed to secure sufficient ‘credits’ from my wife for the next fifty Aldershot Town games. A week to set to one side the pressures of work and the endless search for clients with the ability to pay…..

I guess few if any of the Shots fans travelling to Stafford on March 29th would have registered that the Gravelley Hill Interchange sits above Salford Junction. Yes, underneath the confusion of ’Spaghetti Junction’ the Grand Union Canal’s ‘Saltley Cut’ and Tame Valley Canal form a ‘crossroads’ with the Birmingham and Fazeley Canal.

Engulfed in the concrete gloom, with tier upon tier of roadway spiralling above, time for just a moment to consider whether the M6 will survive another 100 years. Sufficient time, perhaps, for heritage to overtake engineering.

A week on the motorways….yes, that should gain sufficient credits for watching the Shots home and away during the 2107/08 season.

And so in the week that I have been ‘absent’, Aldershot Town beat Stafford Rangers 2v1.…overcame a spirited Rushden and Diamonds to win the Setanta Shield, then the Shots secured a vital 2v1 victory over Salisbury to go 17 points clear at the top of the Blue Square Premier.

With results going in our favour the message board has been full of talk about beating Ebbsfleet on Tuesday and perhaps Torquay losing at home to Oxford….making the Shots Champions, with five games still left to play.

But for me….and I’m sure Gary and Martin…it is 90mins…three points…one less game to play….ignore the rest.

One more point......

For much of last night’s game it was like watching a team representing the ‘production line and maintenance’ playing ‘the Directors and management‘….with the support of a few guys from finance, research, HR and marketing. A game where one of the sides has so much to prove and the other probably regrets agreeing to the fixture in the first place.

Now who was it that came up with the bright idea to pay single time on bank holidays, to keep pace with the Chinese?…..and who in marketing secured the agreement with BMW or was it Porsche for senior management loan cars….and cutting hundreds of jobs resulted in what? Big fat bonuses for Directors …… yes, they were certainly well received by the maintenance crew, as they had to make do with last years spanners.

So as Droylsden ran out on to the pitch I sensed that they hardly needed to warm up. They had all put in a days work……but perhaps saving just a bit of energy for the evening encounter with the full timers from the south.

So it was always going to be difficult, despite an excellent playing surface that had been covered by snow only a few days before.

Talk on the Shots message board of an easy victory, against a team rooted to the bottom of the Blue Square Premier, was only ever going to fuel the passion of the ‘production line’, bring out the worst in the boys from maintenance and turn the heads of some of their opponents, the young wizz kids from marketing……

Two defensive errors led to Droylsden dreaming of a famous victory…..but a well taken goal by Mendes followed by an own goal was enough to secure a draw.

And as the season races to a finish, perhaps 2v2, against the ‘production line and maintenance’ was not so bad after all.

On reflection…..one less game to play….one point…..ignore the rest.

And now a short break….as I set off in search of the canals for a week, missing both Stafford and Salisbury.

Time to focus and forget the, ‘how many victories do we need?’.

Just one victory, on Saturday, will be fine……

Another game......

It was always going to be a difficult game. And one I was not really looking forward to.

It was the 1200hrs kick off that finally convinced me that perhaps the Somerset trip was indeed the best option.....with regular updates from my brother, who is now fully recovered from the traumas of the last two seasons, although he can't find a 'work' reason to get to Droylsden on Thursday.

And perhaps it's just Aldershot that Evans and Raynor...the Crawley management team....don't like.

Why do they always seem to get upset, and then go to sit in the stand.....I'm sure they are really nice people and simply misunderstood.

But how reassuring to reflect that if we continue to play with power and pace...win...three points...to the end of the season, we will escape their pathetic behaviour......well unless a Football League Club Chairman appoints the 'dream team'.

An avalanche of fixtures....

So little time to recover between games, as the season draws to a close in an avalanche of fixtures.

Altrincham today….and then three away games. Crawley on Monday, then Droylsden Thursday and Stafford Rangers on Saturday.


So many matches in so few days. It will require planning and economy of effort, of the highest order, to get through this tough period.

Well the first part was achieved with consummate ease. Blue sky, brilliant sunshine and an easy drive down to the Recreation Ground today…..only to be greeted by wintery showers.

Altrincham was always going to be a difficult fixture. And despite a few scares, Aldershot Town secured the three points thanks to yet another brilliant strike by Scott Davies.

Crawley on Monday….. I'm going to send my brother, as I will be in Somerset for a couple of days. Then some work in north Wales on Wednesday and Thursday, which will make Droylsden a home fixture.

And Stafford….well I have to admit that I will be there on Saturday, but not at the game! A week on the Canals with my wife, to secure the ‘credits’ necessary for all of my long distance supporting, will commence just as the game kicks off.

Planning…….mine is complete.

Gary and Martin will have done their planning too. It’s not four games in eight days…it’s one game in 90mins. Focus and application…..three points….one game less to play….ignore the rest.

Wembley......

Surprisingly the hottest tickets in town last weekend, were not to see Wales play France in the Six Nations decider.

No, try getting a Wembley Semi-Final ticket, for Barnsley v Cardiff City.

On March 20th, 1992, Ninian Park, Cardiff, was the setting for the last Football League match to be contested by Aldershot FC. The 2v0 defeat in front of 6006 spectators was followed by a generous ‘bucket collection’, to get the ‘boys’ home.

And then……the High Court Winding-Up Order on March 25th. The Shots were dead.

Well 16 years later Aldershot Town FC are alive and kicking, and sit proudly at the top of the Blue Square Premier, with a return to the Football League tantalisingly close.

But for Cardiff it has been nearly 81 years since a Ferguson goal, in the 74th minute, was enough to beat Arsenal in the 1927 FA Cup Final at Wembley. A victory that gave Fred Keenor the responsibility to obtain the only export licence for the Cup, since the inception of the competition in 1871/2.

No doubt if Cardiff City go on to win the Cup in May, the club will expect to be entered for European competition, as every FA Cup winner has been since Wolves in 1960. Perhaps a reasonable position to take up, since Cardiff have always been considered an honorary English club, along with Swansea City, Wrexham, Newport County and Colwyn Bay.

But Cardiff should beware. Their history is littered with occasions when they have sought to distance themselves from England and the English.


For many years they were happy to be controlled by the Football Association of Wales (FAW), giving them opportunity to enter the Welsh Cup and, more often than not, being rewarded with an easy ticket to Europe.

Then in 2002/03 the club reached the second division play-offs final, against QPR at the Millennium Stadium. Suffice to say the National Anthem was replaced by Men of Harlech, and for QPR…..Papa’s Got a Brand New Pigbag!

And this burning desire to represent England in Europe would certainly inspire a quizzical look from those visiting Ninian Park in January 2002, when Leeds United played an FA Cup tie.

The genuine support for Cardiff was, for many, whipped up into a nationalistic fervour that has no place in football.

The FA launched a joint investigation with the FAW….but as time drifted on it was left to the FAW to hand down a punishment that amounted to a pretty paltry £20,000 fine. The club claiming that the FAW acted under pressure from London.

And a statement from the club after the event read, ‘The events of January 6 will only serve to bring together the club and the Welsh people as they strive to take Welsh football forward’.

But now as the European ticket has been withdrawn by the FAW in favour of clubs playing in Wales, the FA Cup final may represent a great opportunity for the Bluebirds…….but wait.

How will the FAW respond to Cardiff representing England in Europe?

Well not too impressed I would think, given the row that is developing over the British Olympic Association’s (BOA) determination to field men’s and women’s teams at the 2012 London Olympics.

‘We will field a team’, BOA chief Simon Clegg proclaimed.

However, the Scottish, Welsh and Northern Ireland Associations have all opposed the idea.

‘Wales will not take part in such a team. We will not do anything that will jeopardise Wales’ status as an independent nation within Uefa and Fifa’, David Collins, Secretary General of the FAW responded, in a manner befitting his Savile Row tailored job title.

But David shouldn’t worry, as the time will surely come when Wales and Scotland are independent states within Europe. A situation delivered not by the SNP in Holyrood or Plaid in Cardiff Bay.

No, absolute devolution will be delivered by the awakening of middle England to the fact that there are a lot of Raith Rovers supporters in the Westminster government.

And this season's FA Trophy Final will be between Torquay United and Ebbsfleet United.

Aldershot Town drew 1v1 in the second leg of the Semi-Final, last Saturday, losing 4v2 on aggregate and missing out on a trip to Wembley……best wishes to both teams and sets of supporters. The experience will be brilliant.

So it’s back to league action on Saturday, and the visit of Altrincham. A team desperate for points, as they once again attempt to avoid relegation.

Aldershot Town are now left with a simple focus…..each game in turn…three points.

And at the end of 90mins, one less game to play…….ignore the rest.

Stability

The build up to the big day had been pretty ‘low key’. So I suppose it came as no surprise when Alistair rose to his feet on Wednesday, with the tank of expectation showing empty, only to prove that grey is indeed the new grey.

Yes, Alistair Darling set out ’his’ first Budget in a manner befitting a man with a record of stability concealed only by a grey cloak of expressed stability.

‘How did it go darling? I missed most of it. The sink was blocked and I tried to get someone round from next door. But Gordon was out. So I had a problem. Anyway are we still stable? Is the future going to be stable? Can we be sure of worldwide stability? I do hope so. We must have stability because I just love all of the big cars and other perks….the free food…the John Lewis list….’

Well if the defeat at Ebbsfleet was the expected downturn after the emotional high of winning at Plainmoor, then beating Histon on Tuesday evening was a welcome return to the world of stability. Plenty of pace going forward when needed, and despite a few errors at the back….three points secured.

And the game tomorrow….an opportunity to throw everything at Ebbsfleet in an attempt to overcome the 3v1 reverse from the first leg.

I have high expectations for the Trophy game….but for Altrincham in a week's time…..a bit more stability will do just fine.

Life can be tough......

Isn’t it strange how a trip to Northfleet always delivers the same result.

Despite having lived in Wales for nearly 16 years, the feeling that we should return ‘home’, has always been just 'below the surface'.

So it was with thoughts turning to a ‘return flight’, that I headed east last Saturday.

Ebbsfleet International car park, no more than a five minute walk from the Stonebridge Road ground, was both convenient and depressing.

The trackside sign showing ‘100’, a stark reminder for anyone heading to Europe, that they would only have to shut their eyes for a couple of minutes, to avoid the barren townscape of Northfleet.

And I have no doubt that the twin chimneys towering over the Ebbsfleet ground would have raised the heartbeat of Fred Dibner, but for me they were no more than an affirmation of the misery of the place.

Yes, Northfleet had indeed delivered the same result…..a vivid reminder of why we had left London and the south east far behind in the first place.

When we moved to Wales in 1992 our first home was set in orchards and woodland, high up above the Wye Valley. Nesting buzzards, garden birds of many species, badgers, foxes, dormice, deer……and from early in each new year the garden was an Impressionists dream…..a wall-to-wall carpet of wild flowers.

And just about the first thing we did after moving in was to put up a nesting box. Looking back it was a pretty pointless thing to do, given that the high canopy of the broadleaf woodland was home to nesting buzzards. But then what did we know about nature, coming from the land of ‘gridlock’….the M3/M25.

But my son was genuinely excited , when in our first year the nesting box was taken over by a pair of Blue Tits.

And by the end of May, after weeks of frantic feeding the incredible efforts of two hardworking parents paid off. Ten healthy youngsters took to the wing for the first time.

The morning had started, I guess, pretty early with the ‘dad’ bringing a mealworm to the entrance. ‘Mum’ disappeared inside the nest to undertake her usual bout of housekeeping at the bottom of the box. And this was then followed by visit after visit with food. The chicks gathered around the entrance and most feeds took place without the adults entering the box.

As the moment of flight approached, the anticipation in the nesting box was overwhelming, and any chick perching in the opening for more than a few seconds was brushed to one side by the excitement of the others.

Then the moment came. A call of the parents from a nearby coppice of hazel could be heard outside, the bustling and jostling in the box seemed to stop, as one by one they made their departure.

The innocence of youth overtaken by the frantic first flight……only 20m, but so dangerous.

Disaster struck…..the first five chicks were taken out by a predatory Jay, who like us had been watching the ‘departure lounge’.

The parents' call so much more plaintive……but the last five survived the early test and quickly grew to understand that controlled flapping of the wings was of primary importance…..that an awareness of danger was probably something good to comprehend….a plan to overcome danger was a useful survival tool….and having a good sense of direction would always get them home after a late night!

On Saturday Aldershot Town left the safety of the Changing Rooms and immediately forgot to flap their wings….and, as for the rest?

Well I guess Gary and Martin will take time to remind their fledgelings that life can be tough.

Functional elegance......

I guess for most people of my age who were born within touching distance of the Royal Aircraft Establishment, Farnborough, childhood family memories will always be mixed with images of the annual Air Display…..the Fairey Rotodyne, Handley-Page 115 and the incomparable Lightning.

And fifty years on, my body still recalls the seismic aftershock of the Avro Vulcan passing within what seemed to be no more than an arms length of our house.

But for just one summer, in 1963, my fascination turned to trains. The mainline from London to the ‘exotic’ south coast passed through Farnborough. And like so many kids before, and no doubt many after, I made it my mission to collect locomotive numbers.

On looking back I guess the time spent alongside the railway embankment was pretty pointless. A few numbers written down on a scrap of paper……ten down, twelve thousand five hundred to go.

But the distant rumble. The ever increasing noise. The sense of power…..and then the thick blanket of smoke. Choking. Wiping the tears from my eyes….and it was gone. To where I had no idea.

However at the time it seemed such a good idea to write down the number……34026.

34026 - Yes Tor was a massive brute of a steam locomotive and a favourite of mine. A functional elegance driven forward by a body of power well beyond the comprehension of a small boy.

34026 took its name from the second highest point on Dartmoor. And at 619m Yes Tor is classed as a mountain.

Millions of years ago magma created deep-seated dome batholiths which over time were revealed to the atmosphere and subjected to weathering. At nearly 350 sq miles Dartmoor represents one of the largest areas of exposed granite in the UK. Some of the more durable granite has survived to form the powerful rocky crowns of the Dartmoor tors.

The area comprising modern Torquay has been inhabited since Palaeolithic times but the name originates from the ‘quay’ of the ancient village of Torre. In turn Torre takes its name from the tor, the extensively quarried remains of which can be seen by the town’s Tor Hill Road.

So it was with a mind full of history that I sat down in the Ten Tors pub just outside of Torquay for lunch. With Dartmoor to the north, dusted with a fine covering of snow and to the south, Torbay shimmering under a canopy dressed in azure.

Monday evening football to satisfy the insatiable appetite of television is a modern invention. A nuisance that we have to live with. But not something that I will ever grow to love.

And as 2000hrs approached, on Monday 3rd March, my two brothers, niece and business associate, who managed to get away from Exeter in time, joined me, to make our away following five, for the first time this season.

As it turned out quite a few more people took friends and neighbours to Plainmoor last Monday, swelling the Shots support to around 1000.

The game was tense and frenetic. The crowd passionate but intense.

Aldershot scored early on…..Torquay equalised in the second half. Then Scott Davies hit a superb volley in the last minute of injury time, to win the game.

The explosion of emotion in the ‘away’ end powerful and beyond control.

The silence on two sides of the ground, a shroud for the combined pain felt by 3500 Torquay supporters.

Yes, Aldershot Town won the ‘six pointer’ and sit proudly on top of the Blue Square Premier.

And no need for any caffeine on the long journey back to Wales. The adrenaline was pumping around my body, creating a feeling that not even a case of Red Bull could replicate.

The Second Severn Crossing, and time to reflect on the events of the night. Television cameras. An early goal. Some great saves by Bully. A Torquay equaliser. A brilliant strike by Davies. The noise…..3 points.

Was it really so easy? Perhaps on reflection Torquay did have a lot of possession. Come to think of it the ball was constantly being played long and into the heart of our defence.

I turned into our lane at about 1.30am….with my mind as clear as the sky above my head. The answer to our victory was of course founded on the all-round effort of the team. The will to win overcoming anything that the older, wiser…more experienced Torquay could throw at them.

But at the heart of the team effort on Monday was a big lad who just might have grown into his body.

Dave Winfield was indeed a ‘functional elegance driven forward by a body of power’.

And now….time to calm down and focus on Ebbsfleet, and FA Trophy semi-final on Saturday. With still a quarter of the season to go it so important that the victory over Torquay is seen as no more than three points…….

Teamwork....

It’s funny how The Non-League Paper has suddenly woken up to the fact that Aldershot Town are top of the Blue Square Premier. ‘Young Shots have no fear’, Stuart Hammond proclaimed today, in a piece about the youthful exuberance of Aldershot Town. And he went on to acknowledge that seven of the starting line-up that destroyed Stevenage, a fortnight ago, were signed by previous manager Terry Brown.

So credit Terry for his signings, but how can one explain the difference in performance between this season and the last two….?

Kidderminster turned up on Saturday determined to go home with a point, after losing the previous three games…..and I guess 10 men across the last third of the pitch could be considered a pretty defensive set up.

A fluke early goal for Kidderminster was quickly balanced by a Danny Hilton tap-in. The rest of the game was then an exercise in patient build up and winning. Yes, the difference between today and previous seasons….Gary and Martin have the team thinking about how to win.

The ingredients are pretty simple…effort and control….pace and power….teamwork. It almost matters not who the players are on the pitch….witness the 6v2 demolition of Crawley earlier in the week (Setanta Shield).

And how refreshing it is to see players wanting to come onto the pitch, from the bench….and not hiding away, hoping they will never be asked to ‘strip off’.


On Saturday three substitutions ten minutes into the second half, saw the Shots look to improve on the effectiveness of the team performance. At this point Gary was not searching for better individual output. No, he was about to display a modified game plan, to achieve the winning outcome.


The team were more effective, and the Shots recorded their 24th league win of the season.

Torquay will be tough on Monday night. But Aldershot have come a long way since the naivety of the 0v3 defeat at the Rec in August.

Gary and Martin have taught the young team how to win games.

Moving on....

The 2003 Rugby World Cup was the fifth world cup. And of course it was won by England.

Originally planned to be co-hosted by both Australia and New Zealand, all games were moved to Australia following a dispute between the New Zealand Rugby Football Union and Rugby World Cup Limited.

And Jonny Wilkinson will dine out on the last minute drop goal for the rest of his life.

But world cup victory came not simply via Jonny’s boot, but more as a result of the forward's massive effort on Saturday October 18th. England beat South Africa 25-6 and then went on to play Wales in the quarter finals. South Africa were left to get stuffed by New Zealand….

October the 18th was also my first game of the 2003/04 season, our first in the Conference. A season that would take us all the way to the Britannia Stadium, Stoke, and the heartbreak of a penalty shoot out defeat in the play-off final.

Yes, I had been grounded by something more powerful than my wife, and after a long summer of recovery Tamworth was to be my first game of the season….3v3, with a last minute equaliser... just the test my heart needed.

So it is always with a mind full of memories that I make the trip north to Tamworth. Despite being relegated from the Conference last season the Lambs would still prove to be dangerous opponents in the quarter finals of this season's FA Trophy.

And it doesn’t help telling children….’don’t worry it’s only an exam….don’t worry the new school will be nice….just forget what that boy said, names will never hurt you…..I know you lost 12v0 son, but don’t worry, move on….’

I guess for many of us moving on can be easy. Examinations, illness, divorce .....losing to Shrewsbury in a penalty shoot out.

But suffering two seasons of the most dismal football, after the exuberance of 2003/04 and the optimism of the following season, led my brother to the edge. His despair so intense, he refused to buy a season ticket for this season….

And no amount of comment on the Aldershot Town ‘message board‘, advising ‘move on, get over it, we all have’ could get anywhere near to his innermost feelings.

But on Saturday, at the scene of my own rehabilitation, my brother was there.

Yes,at Tamworth. Shouting at the Ref. Shouting something about a character in Eastenders. …Something to do with Max and Stacey?

The FA Trophy quarter final, last Saturday, was not a game for the purist. A narrow pitch that helped the Tamworth midfield get very close to our speedy youngsters resulted in a poor game, settled by a sublime strike by Kirk Hudson, in the last minute of added time. Certainly a goal out of keeping with the rest of the game.....

Tamworth 1 v 2 Aldershot Town....and back to league action tomorrow.

Kidderminster will be tough on Saturday.

But then they won’t enjoy our power, and pace……speed and intensity of thought.

Oh and by the way….thank you Gary and Martin.

Harding, Hudson and Hylton.....

It certainly doesn’t seem like 34 years ago that I folded back the hood on my MG, and made the short drive into Norwich to collect Martine from the station. Her first trip to England and the start of a friendship that has survived to this day.

As Chief Executive of an Avignon Business School, with University links across Europe, Martine now makes regular visits to the UK. Her husband, Jean-Jacques, on the other hand, very rarely strays from ‘the south‘. Perhaps a trip to the Alps for a weeks skiing, but certainly not England in February. So it was just a bit of a surprise when they both turned up to visit last week……a few days in Wales, sandwiched between meetings in London, Stoke and Portsmouth.

And for the second time this season, I found myself grounded. ‘No, Jean-Jacques doesn’t want to go to Aldershot on Sunday to see the Stevenage game…..so don’t ask him’, my wife quietly affirmed.

I considered that to be a decision…..

I think we were about to serve the roast beef as our third goal went in……the French love a ‘good roast’.

And I was still singing Gary Waddock’s Red and Blue Army in my head at 2am….. a 3v1 win accompanied by Pic St Loup and Tavel.

Symmetry is the set of mathematical rules that describe the shape of an object. The two most common kinds being reflection or mirror symmetry and rotation symmetry. Interestingly the letter H has both horizontal and vertical mirror symmetry. And when one considers rotational symmetry H displays two-fold symmetry…..when one rotates the object around the symmetry axis.

As the season got under way last August I guess few Aldershot Town supporters would have predicted that the Shots would be setting the pace in the Blue Square Premier on February 21st….and how many would have marked Ben Harding down as the future player of the season? Not too many I guess…..but Ben has been the axis around which all of our power and pace has been controlled.

And to complete the symmetry….Hylton a gem to be polished and Hudson a gem currently being polished by our maturing coaching staff.

Yes, H, H and H…..long may the symmetry prevail.

And a postscript to Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling…..

‘Northern Rock has now been nationalised, the government says.
The Northern Rock Transfer Order 2008 has been passed, transferring all shares in the troubled bank into government hands.

The order was made after the bill allowing it to pass into government ownership was given Royal Assent (late on Thursday night Feb 21st)’ - bbc.co.uk

Now I wonder if Gordon and Alistair purchased JJB shares ,when they were valued at 97.75, and after reading my blog on January 15th. My concern then, was that with the Rock passing into state hands, the Bank’s sponsorship of Newcastle United may be at an end, and new shirts could appear before the season was out…….

My professional indemnity insurance would not cover me for Stock Market advice…but with the price closing yesterday at 126.75, an increase of 30% in about a month, all I can say is…… that my contribution to the future of the Northern Wreck has been covered……nice one Gordon.

The '39th step'.....

John Buchan wrote The Thirty-nine Steps while he was ill and in bed with a duodenal ulcer. And the novel, first published in 1915, marked a turning point in Buchan’s literary career.

It is the first of five novels featuring Richard Hannay, an all action hero with a stiff upper lip and a James Bond ability to get out of perilous situations.

With Europe close to war, and with spies hiding behind every curtain, Hannay uncovers an anarchistic plot to destabilise Europe; with Act One….a plan to assassinate Greek Premier, Karolides, during his upcoming visit to London.

Despite departing from the original story line, Alfred Hitchcock’s 1935 adaptation The 39 Steps is a ‘Cinema classic‘…..

Real Madrid are football’s highest earning club, making £24.1m more than Manchester United last season (Source: Deloitte Football Money League 2008).

The European Premier League makes interesting reading….

Real Madrid £236.2m
Manchester United £212.1m
Barcelona £195.3m
Chelsea £190.5m
Arsenal £177.6m , followed by….

AC. Milan, Bayern Munich, Liverpool, Inter Milan, AS Roma, Tottenham, Juventus, Lyons, Newcastle, Hamburg SV, Schalke 04, Celtic, Valencia…..

And propping up the League….

Marseilles £66.6m
Werder Bremen £65.5m

Now I wonder if Newcastle, currently languishing in 13th place in the EPL, would feel ‘bigger’ if they held down a similar position in a new Euro League….

Perhaps Richard Scudamore, Chief Executive of the Premier League, has an eye on this mountain of Euro cash when he talks of the ‘39th step’.

Cambridge United came to the Recreation Ground on Tuesday evening determined to go home with a point…..

And they did.

Cambridge defended deep….filled up the midfield. And ran and ran and continued running, right up to the final whistle. Aldershot wasted two good chances to, perhaps, steal a victory and the game ended 0v0.

And in a hard fought game the sending off , by Referee Phillips, of Aldershot defender Anthony Charles, appeared to be the result of a personal motivation rather than the fair application of the Laws of the Game.

A 'Global Brand'....

On May 21st 2007 the Cutty Sark caught fire and burned for several hours before the London Fire Brigade could bring the fire under control.

Initial reports indicated that the damage was extensive……

I watched the news reports with a feeling of shock and personal loss. A strange mixture of emotions surfaced without any obvious or rational cause. Strange emotions, given that it had been twenty years since I had taken my son to see the famous clipper in its dry-dock.

And it was probably fifty years since my father had held my hand on the same trip to Greenwich. The image of the ship, stranded forlornly like a whale washed up on the beach at low tide, still etched in my memory.

The Cutty Sark was designed by Hercules Linton and built in Dumbarton. She was destined for the tea trade and the intensely competitive race from China to London.

But in reality she was not that successful…..and with the advent of steamships the Cutty Sark was moved to service the Australian wool trade....In 1895 she was sold and her name changed…..

Much has been written about the Cutty Sark since the fire. How much of the ship is original? Why should we spend £35m on the restoration programme? Indeed why bother…….?

I guess the answer can be found in the feelings that I experienced on May 21st.

Legal interest, equitable interest, exclusive possession, exclusive use and enclosure, acquisition, conveyance…..

Possession - the actual holding of a thing, whether or not one has any right to do so. The right of possession is its legitimacy and the right of property is that right which ‘trumps’ the lot.

So what should we make of the Premier League declaring that the season will be extended by one match….to be played somewhere in the world. Somewhere that will come up with loads of money. Money that will be used to improve the game back in England.

Richard Scudamore and his ‘Brand’ managers declared at the weekend, that if ‘they’ didn’t do it someone else would. Well Rich it won’t be me….and I don’t think it will be the Blue Square Premier. Farsley Celtic v Droylsden in New York….

But it is the ownership of this ‘Global Brand’, the ongoing development of the product that gives me cause for concern.

Emotional connections are not simply warm and fuzzy……illustrated by a distant memory of Jim leaving his gloves on the coach at Carlisle, on the coldest day of the decade…..nor are they simply interesting aspects of behaviour to contemplate and debate. No, they have powerful financial consequences, ranging from a share of my disposable income to frequency and repeat business.

Fully engaged customers spend more and return more than those who become disengaged.

Some companies are good at creating emotional connections with their customers. Most, however, are not.

And the Premier League should beware….the customer is first and foremost a supporter. Someone who has acquired emotional property in their Club.

And emotional connections aren’t static. They ebb and flow but will never go away. Brand ‘passion’ should be treated with respect.

Roker Park…..The Stadium of Light.

Anfield…..the stadium of ‘who paid the most’!

‘Our next home game will be played in Bangkok on January 29th…we regret to inform all supporters and club members that coaches will not be organised for this fixture’.

Players from every football playing country in the world are featured in our ‘Global Brand‘….. Celtic, European Cup winners in 1967, with a team of Scots.

Bill Shankly, Brian Clough, Alex Ferguson……Fabio Capello, Vladimir Petrovic, Zhu Guanghu.

Yes, I think the Premier League should take care…..as for me, I’m comforted by the fact that The Cutty Sark will still look like the Cutty Sark after the process of restoration.

Farsley Celtic was a long trip north…..three more points and a first senior goal for Danny Hylton. And two more for Kirk Hudson. Too much pace and applied power, when needed, flattened Farsley, despite a spirited second half performance by the home side.

And just a passing comment for the local Police.

If you are worried about our travelling fans, don’t just panic the local club….and demand segregation….then demand additional stewards….and then advise, that if it ‘kicks off’ you will get there as quick as you can.

The village centre pub was a comfortable retreat….

Flight of the bumblebee.....

Britain and Ireland have 25 native species of bumblebee, although 3 species have already become nationally extinct and a further 5 are now designated UK BAP species (UK Biodiversity Action Plan).

But they are such fun creatures.

Bumblebees are indeed fascinating and important insects. They live in annual colonies, feeding on nectar and pollen and they provide an important pollination service for many of our fruit and vegetable crops, as well as wild flowers.

According to 20th century folklore, the laws of aerodynamics prove that the bumblebee should be incapable of flight, as it does not have the capacity (in terms of wing size or beat per second) to achieve flight with the degree of wing loading necessary. Not being aware of scientists 'proving' it cannot fly, the bumblebee succeeds under "the power of its own arrogance".

Braintree Town visited the Recreation Ground last Saturday…..the Shots eased past them, and into the Quarter Finals of the FA Trophy.

A competent performance against a team clearly from a league lower. Superior fitness and the performance of two players, in particular, the difference between the sides.

Ben Harding has been the outstanding player of the season…..and his goal against Braintree was one for my ‘top three all time strikes’ seen at the Rec.

Simply brilliant…..

The second player to turn Braintree inside out was Danny Hylton….a youngster who has spent most of the season warming the bench or playing in the reserves. He first came to my attention at Burton, back in October, when he replaced a lacklustre Jonny Dixon in a two nil defeat. His tenacity unsettling a strong Albion defence, untroubled by the lightweight Dixon.

And now with Dixon signing for Brighton, Hylton has been given a chance to shine…..and he has grasped the opportunity with youthful exuberance.

Danny doesn’t really look the part. Ungainly gait, but deceptively quick. An ability to get behind defenders….something Dixon could never do. Always looking to find space. A first goal will be followed by many more.

Hylton may just succeed under the power of his own arrogance….

And finally a quick postscript to Peter Hain….

Peter, after more than ten years of a New Labour Government, are things still so bad in your Neath Constituency that the only person you can find capable of operating e-mails, and using a mobile phone is your 80-year-old mother. Were you not the Work and Pensions Secretary before falling…..

In memory of Munich

At 3.04 pm on 6 February 1958 a British European Airways flight carrying 40 passengers and 4 crew made a third attempt to take off from a snow bound Munich airport.

The plane failed to gain adequate height and crashed into a fence surrounding the airport, then careered into an unoccupied house.

As news of the crash flickered across our television screen I was oblivious to my father’s concern. The new red wheelbarrow, that I had been given the day before for my birthday, held my attention as Dad tried to explain the unfolding tragedy.

And it would be another two years before I could start to understand the enormity of the disaster that unfolded on the slush ridden Munich runway.

Two more years before I experienced my first game at the Recreation Ground.

It was not until Bobby Howfield and Paddy Hasty….. Alan Woan and Jack Howarth had filled my veins with red and blue blood that I could possibly understand the events of Feb 6th 1958.

23 people died in the crash.

And Manchester United lost eight of their finest players.

Geoff Bent
Roger Byrne
Eddie Colman
Mark Jones
David Pegg
Tommy Taylor
Liam Whelan
Duncan Edwards


In most, if not all, of the documentaries about the disaster Duncan Edwards is described as the ‘golden boy’ and Bobby Charlton said of his friend, ‘he was the only player who made me feel inferior’.

Had Edwards survived the Munich crash then in 1966 he would have been 29, at the peak of his powers and Bobby Moore would have been consigned to West Ham history and not World Cup winning glory.

But I like to read about Mark Jones…..he died aged only 24 having made 121 appearances for United. A big man, Mark stood 6ft 1in tall and weighed in at 12st 12lb. The Barnsley born centre half was the imposing centre piece to a skilful back line.

But Mark was a gentle man. His dressing room nickname, Dan Archer, after the leading character in the radio series still broadcast today……(and I think Brian Aldridge has just made a big mistake….yes in my opinion Debbie and Adam should be left the farm).

He smoked a pipe….kept budgerigars…in fact he had 55 budgies….and on more than one occasion he brought his shotgun to Old Trafford to assist in keeping down the pigeon population.

Mark Jones and Rio Ferdinand ………..sadly generations apart.


The Crimean War, 1853-1856 was fought between Imperial Russia on one side and an alliance that included France and the UK on the other.

The ‘popularity’ of the war inspired the Prince Consort to establish permanent buildings at North Camp ensuring the long-term future of Aldershot as the primary base of the British Army. As a result, in September 1854 work began on the building of permanent barracks, the first phase of which was completed in 1859.


The Crimea public house stands in the lower part of Crimea Road and is no more than a goal kick away from the Recreation Ground. Opened in 1856, as the Crimean War was coming to a close the pub lasted for about seventy-five years before it was rebuilt in the 1930’s….and it hasn’t changed much since.


Tuesday evening saw the Shots entertain Oxford United. A handful of U’s supporters found their way to the Crimea. They predicted a 0v0. We didn’t fully disappoint….they scored nil.

The Shots conjured up a scruffy goal from a corner midway through the second half. Our new pre-match home is indeed lucky.


Good beer on hand pump….ham rolls….comfortable seats…..see you Saturday.

The past came back to visit....

Albion Rovers FC play at Crindau Park, Newport.

The ground can be seen quite easily when travelling back to England along the M4. In fact it is just below the motorway and not more than 500m from the Brynglas Tunnels…..I’m sure you will remember the traffic hold ups, if you attended any of the ‘Cardiff’ Cup Finals.

Scottish coalminers who moved to Newport for work in 1937 formed the team and then named the club after Albion Rovers, who continue to play in their homeland of Coatbridge.

But I’m sure not many people outside of Newport will know that the Rovers played Abergavenny Thursdays in the first game to be played at Newport Stadium, now the home of Newport County AFC.

From the dreamland of the European Cup Winners Cup quarter final against Carl Zeiss Jena of East Germany, to bankruptcy in 8 years, was a pretty spectacular collapse. But then the 1980s heralded both the brightest and darkest moments in Newport County’s history.

After relegation from the Football League to the Conference in 1988 ‘The County’ went bust on 27th February 1989.

They reformed in the same year and the new club adopted the nickname The Exiles, as a result of the need to play their inaugural season in the north Gloucestershire town of Moreton-in-Marsh.

Promotion to the Southern League in 1990 saw the club return to Wales for a brief period. The return to Somerton Park was never going to be for long, as the Borough Council had housing developments in mind. But nobody wanted to return to life in exile for a further two seasons, as the club was forced to resort to legal action to protect themselves from being evicted from the English football pyramid. The litigation proved successful, a landmark High Court judgement enabling Newport AFC to move into a permanent home at Spytty Park and the newly-built Newport Stadium (the club changed their name back to Newport County in 1999).

But desperate for any club to play at the new stadium, and with Newport in exile, the Borough Council had entered into a tenancy agreement with Albion Rovers, then of the Welsh League Div 1 (feeder to the Welsh Premier). So on their return to Wales ‘County’ found themselves ground sharing until Albion Rovers moved out to Crindau Park.

And just for the record, Rovers beat the Thursdays in that opening match…… Albion Rovers have suffered three relegations and now play in the Gwent County League Div 1.….and the Thursdays now play in the Gwent County League Div 3.

Now I’m sure all of this is more interesting than tracking the rise and fall of just about any politician. And certainly more memorable for those emotionally attached to the clubs in question. But the really fascinating thing about Crindau Park is that, it is the only senior football pitch in Wales below sea level.

And yes, it floods a lot…..

It was with this fact in the forefront of my mind, the weekend before last, that the past came back to visit me.

I pass through Newport on no less than 40 occasions every season on my way to the Recreation Ground, Aldershot and the many other exotic Conference destinations. And just above Crindau Park I always undertake the same analysis……how much water is there on the pitch? Is it playable? If yes, the Rec will be fine……

And after a week of torrential rain which brought floods to much of west and mid Wales I looked down at Crindau Park expecting the worst.

But travelling to the Forest Green Rovers game the past did indeed come back to visit…was it really fifteen years ago that my mother made the call?

The BBC news had carried the story all week. Rain. More rain. Widespread flooding. Landslides. The Rivers Severn and Wye bursting their banks covering hundreds of square miles with floodwater.

‘Are you ok?’ My mother’s voice resonating concern.

‘Yes, we are. Of course we are ok’ I reassuringly declared as I looked out of our house towards the distant Black Mountains shimmering in the early morning sunlight. Our garden wrapped up in a thick blanket of cotton wool. The cloud stretching for as far as the eye could see. Punctured only by the mountain tops. The valley of the Wye sequestered 250m below.

‘Yes, we are fine Mum’ with just a hint of ‘living in Chobham you would be the first to know if we were under water!‘

My travel arrangements tend to be pretty much the same for every home game….I leave home at 9am, pick my brother up at 1230hrs and get to the Phoenix Social Club for 1pm. Leaving two hours to unwind and prepare for the game…..

But this trip was different. The Phoenix was no more….for me. The Board had decided to use the Social Club for corporate dining with Members shifted to a ‘pub’ in the car park.

Cardiff, Newport, Second Severn Crossing, Bristol, Swindon, Reading, Hartley Wintney….plenty of time to think.

It will be ok. Yes, I was convinced.

Clearly the club had put in a lot of effort to get the new venture up and running for the opening, the night before. And the ‘big screen’ was in place so that we could watch televised football…..I’m never that interested. And with a reported 3000 pints poured into plastic pots I’m sure the brewery and all those involved will be happy.

The success of our club is of course a shared aim, but the big and ugly ‘Black Bull’ is no place for someone who travels so far to get to each and every home game.

I had grown to like the comfort of the Phoenix Club….and of course I purchased my season ticket early to receive the benefit of free membership. A benefit that has now been removed mid season.

But don’t worry Chairman. I won’t be asking for a refund.

The Severn Bridge ‘sharks’ hit me for £200 in toll charges each season so I guess the membership fee would be no more than loose change ‘jingling in the pocket’.

On the other hand a claim in respect of my season ticket…..

So it’s the Crimea for me, before the Oxford United game on Tuesday night…..an opportunity to get the season back on track, after the disappointing defeat at York City.

I couldn’t get to the game, last Saturday, so what can I say other than….I have every confidence that Gary and Martin will; learn from the setback and prepare effectively for an encounter with a team who have much to prove.

Aldershot Town will play with power and pace……..

Disappointment.......

I'm disappointed that I have no time to post properly…..sorry.


The week started badly…

We lost to Forest Green Rovers, on Saturday.

And my beloved Phoenix Club is no more…..

I have been away all week…..and my wife has grounded me. So I’m missing the long haul to York….now that is a disappointment

But spare a thought for Jerome Kerviel…..disappointed that he lost Societe Generale £3.7 billion or disappointed that he got caught?

And spare a thought for Daniel Boulton, the Chairman and chief executive of Societe Generale….it’s probably his last weekend on expenses.

And poor old Peter Hain…..well at least he will have time to read my blog for himself, allowing his constituency officers to keep track of any future donations to his political fund.

But the upside in this week of disappointment is, we are still five points clear at the top of the Blue Square Premier…..and JJB shares have risen 15% since Jan 15th. ……Jerome should have read my blog.

It's 'absurd'.....

David Whelan was born in Bradford in 1936, raised in Wigan, is a former professional footballer and the current owner of Wigan Athletic FC. He was a successful businessman; after the acquisition of Wigan fishing and sports store JJ Bradburns in 1977.….Whelan turned JJB Sports into the leading UK sports retailer.

In 2007 he stepped down as Chairman of JJB Sports and sold his remaining stake in the company in 2007.

But the new Chairman surely doesn’t need the help of the Government, despite shares in JJB standing at only 97.75 against a 12 month high of 302.

Yes, the impending nationalisation of Northern Rock may just add a few pence to the share price.

How long will it be before Newcastle United FC have to use black and white tape to cover up their sponsors logo and start the search for a new benefactor? Not even Labour would fail to see that if the Government were to sponsor one Club then perhaps 91 others may come calling…..

And being such a ‘big’ club, with support across the UK and beyond, a few hundred thousand replica shirts could be sold between now and the end of the season.

With so much time spent travelling across the UK in support of Aldershot Town, the car radio can be a great friend. Sports Report, live football, travel news and Radio 4, a gentle respite from Radio 5’s 6-0-6 with Alan Green.

But last Saturday I travelled to Kingfield, Woking, with a business colleague and suffered the pain that often follows a few minutes of Green’s comment and pronouncements.

6-0-6 was dominated by the aftershock of ‘Big Sam’s’ departure, and the 6v0 drubbing by United. The seamless stream of public comment massaged by Green’s obvious dislike of all things Allardyce. And at the summit of pomposity Green decreed that only the Toon Army could articulate opinion on the demise of Sam. It was ridiculous for the unconnected to suggest that perhaps Allardyce should have been given a bit more time….that perhaps the ‘Big Club’ needed radical surgery and that recovery would take more than a few months.

Yes, at this suggestion old Greenie displayed his true colours….the colours that don’t fly that high at Old Trafford, the Reebok and a few other grounds around the country. ‘Look, if you haven’t got the shirt you can have no opinion’.

But hang on a minute Alan…..isn’t it about £50billion of loans and underwriting that is keeping Northern Rock afloat. Without my money how could Northern Rock make their monthly payments to Newcastle United?

I’m sorry Alan but we all have an interest in St James’ Park.

And I’m just a bit worried about the impending nationalisation of Northern Rock. You see it is going to be Peter Hain and his administrative mates that will take charge of the Company in the future.

Peter insisted this week that he would get on with his job and that it was ‘absurd’ to suggest he had tried to cover up undeclared donations of £103,000 to his recent deputy Labour leadership campaign.

I agree.

The affair, as currently reported, suggests incompetence and not deceit.

Now what did I do with that big fat fee received in December…….?

Gosh, if Peter finds it difficult to keep track of £103,000 how on earth can we have any confidence that our billions will be safe under a nationalised Northern Rock.

The incompetence illuminated by recent events and played out in our newspapers every morning only serves to confirm the arrogance of government. An arrogance fuelled by power and aged in the oak cask of Westminster.

As for Greenie……he is easily dealt with.

I simply turn to Radio 4.

The visit to Woking for the FA Trophy game was like most other trips this season.

An excellent turnout by Shots fans, plenty of noise, a controlled performance and a win.

For much of the game, and on a very heavy pitch, Aldershot performed below their best. Woking were clearly fired up for the challenge……their season would be over with a defeat.

And the referee? Not a good vintage.

But the result was probably never in doubt. It was a bit like playing football in the garden with a four years old relative…..no matter how many goals you let the youngster score…..the inevitable injection of adult power, pace and guile will result in a victory well before the Yorkshire Puddings are dished up.

Keep it simple.....

Life was so simple in 1969.

A good night out on 10 Shillings (50p). England still World Champions. And Europe…..just a few countries to identify in the ‘O’ Level Geography paper.

And for Peter Hain, who as I write is just about Secretary of State for Wales and Secretary of State for Works and Pensions, the year of 1969 brought with it a new challenge and a single focus.

Yes, at the tender age of 19, Peter Hain became Chairman of the Stop The Seventy Tour campaign. He scored his first victory for the anti-apartheid protests by heavily disrupting the all white Springbok rugby tour and then finally stopping the all white South African cricket tour of Britain planned for 1970.

So simple then for Peter on 16th December 1969. Get a five shillings cheap day return from Waterloo to Aldershot and then the Aldershot and District 2c, from the Station to the Military Stadium, Queens Avenue.

Get there nice and early, and before the South African team arrive to play the Combined Services………’what happened next?’

I always arrive at ‘the ground’ to watch Aldershot two hours before kick off. Sounds a bit extreme, I know….but as it takes me about three hours to get to the Rec and almost all of the away games are at least a similar distance, I like time to unwind.

And Northwich?

One of my favourite trips….although it was disappointing to note the closure of the Italian and Spanish restaurants under the main stand. But in compensation it was pleasing to experience the friendly nature of the home fans, in what is now their ‘pub’.

As for the game….with hindsight it was pretty easy.

A poor Northwich team that I guess we will not be playing next season….perhaps as a result of our promotion, and probably as a result of their relegation ….together with our promotion.

Aldershot performed like a team at the top of the league….three points.

Life can be pretty simple when the focus is ...……next game….win….three points.

Or in the case of tomorrow…..win….next round.

A look back.....

I love architecture.

Travelling to visit friends just outside of Nimes, in the south of France, is an uplifting experience. And closer to home who could not be inspired by the Royal Crescent in Bath or the stunning form of the Hoover Building on the A40, Western Avenue?

At its best architecture can inspire for centuries….a backdrop that gives a timeless comfort blanket to our world.

At its worst it can deliver the Docklands….or Cardiff Bay.

2007 arrived with Aldershot Town surprisingly still in touch with the Conference play-off challengers; and following hard fought victories over Haverhill Town, Chelmsford City and Basingstoke Town, a third round FA Cup trip to Blackpool was eagerly awaited.

Sadly the play-off challenge turned out to be a cruel mirage, and the season ended dismally.

Oh, and Blackpool? The end of the road…..

But at least 2007 can be remembered for the realisation of the inevitable demise of two leaders. Yes, after a period of increasing ineptitude Brown went and Brown ascended.

Without doubt the departure of ‘Saint’ Terry Brown (manager), from Aldershot Town, was completed, in this win only world, with a sensitivity rarely displayed by football clubs.

And so on Tuesday March 27th 2007 Terry Brown took control of his last game, and at 2200hrs he was sent on his way with the applause of the Eastbank ringing in his ears. And their innocent adulation? Impressing an image clearly in his mind, I guess forever.

As one Brown fell so another ascended to realise a lifetime ambition….‘Prime Minister we have floods. I think the inflatable will be better than the Range Rover.’ But then someone hid the paddles and his tenancy agreement at Number 10 looks just a tad vulnerable.

Aldershot Town’s 2007/08 campaign kicked off at Kidderminster, and for many supporters the prospects were wrapped up in hope rather than expectation.

Gary who? Our new manager Gary Waddock was no more than a photo taken from a website.

Added to which the back room staff that had taken Aldershot from the high point of the Britannia Stadium play-off final to the lows of…..no I can’t bring myself to list them…..were pretty much still in place.

And with a squad of players that contained many familiar faces together with the return of Ben Harding….a young man who had failed so disappointingly under the previous regime.....not too many supporters were openly confident of a play-off challenge.

Yes, it was a season that started with thoughts turning to development and building towards 2008/09.

But it has been the form of Harding that has set the barometer for our progress this season. He has been a joy to watch. His performances have lit up our campaign with a style, fluency and demeanour that have been not only the product of his attitude, but most importantly he has quite clearly been nurtured by the coaching staff.

And the exuberance, confidence and vibrancy of the whole squad more than outweighs the occasional impetuous act.

So satisfying, therefore, to see a management team that understand that planning and preparation takes place between games and not after we have gone one or two nil down! Added to which post match recovery strategies must embrace all, and not simply those in need of a gentle touch from the physio.

Yes, following the New Year’s Day defeat of Woking, Aldershot Town sit proudly at the top of the Blue Square Premier. Four points clear of Torquay United.

And with that my thoughts have turned back to 2005. Perhaps the coldest of away trips. Carlisle United, Tuesday 28th December ‘05. After the game, and just a few wee nips taken in a very fine Carlisle hotel, I wrote that Aldershot had failed to come to terms with the demands of full time football.

Today I am pleased to record that those concerns are now dismissed…..for which Gary, Martin and all of the coaching staff should be congratulated.


And off the field, as we prepare for the long awaited return to the Football League, a new commercial realism is radiating from the boardroom.

But caution…..

The Chairman wrote in his recent programme notes that, ‘if they (new ideas) are successful then we will be quids in. The club will make money and move forward with money jingling in its pocket…..’

Manchester United has achieved this simple objective better than all others…..but I do like the Recreation Ground.

Aldershot came back to life in 1992 because for many, its power was defined by something greater than anything that money could achieve, or indeed destroy. Our Club was recreated by the genuine passion that flows through the veins of us all. A passion that is not fed by prawn sandwiches and lubricated by cheap wine.....

In most walks of life progress is fuelled by money. But it is the successful management of progress that will determine the legacy.

Give me the Royal Crescent , Bath any day before a Lego house in Essex.

Out with the old.....

‘Few teams in the world can match Newcastle for crowd size, transfer budget and wages’.

‘Newcastle have to change managers so often because quite simply they rarely pick the right bugger in the first place’.

Quote: Billy Furious, The Sunday Times, 30th Dec 2007.

As I drive down to the Recreation Ground, to watch Aldershot Town, I often wonder about the world that these big club supporters live in. And what is it, that makes an average Premiership side a ‘Big Club’?

Population…I guess.

Yes, Newcastle is a big place. So, like ‘we’ would consider ourselves to be ‘big’ and Histon small…..and Forest Green likewise (find FGR FC on a map), Newcastle has to be bigger than the rest, surely?

But a quick check of the latest Census data will show that Newcastle is smaller than Nottingham and much smaller than loads of other places, including the London Borough of Croydon…..(Croydon FC are currently in the Premier division of the Kent League).

Perhaps then we should look at the honours won over the years to measure the size of a club.

And would recent memory count for more than the results obtained from a trip to the Library, and access to the social history collection?

Well, a quick look around the Newcastle City Library will confirm that Newcastle United has won the League Title on four occasions and the FA Cup six times….with the last win at Wembley being in 1955. Of course some fans will remember the victory in the Inter Cities Fairs Cup in 1969 ( a bit like the UEFA Cup today). But does this make Newcastle a ‘sleeping giant’ or a dead one?

Huddersfield Town have won the League Title four times and the FA Cup once…...and Nottingham Forest, the League in 1978 followed by the European Cup, under Brian Clough, in 1979 and 1980. But then who did Forest play on Saturday?

Div 1 Gillingham 3 v 0 Notts Forest…….

In the virtual world of Billy Furious, the failure to deliver the League Title followed by Champions League success can be attributed to the picking of the ‘(wrong) bugger in the first place’.

Funny thing then that Aston Villa won the European Cup with Tony Barton in charge in 1982.…Tony sadly died in 1993, aged only 56.

Yes, funny that the Villa could rise to the summit of European soccer with an inexperienced manager at the helm and yet Newcastle failed to deliver when, between Sept 2nd 1999 and 30th August 2004, they had Sir Bobby Robson in charge.

Shankly, Paisley, Clough, Robson and Ferguson….five great post war British managers.

And one final thing Mr Furious…..to imply that Bolton Wanderers have not been successful falls somewhat short of my assessment. Just cast your mind back ‘young man’ to 1987. The first season of the play-offs.

Bolton were relegated to Division Four after losing, over two legs, to Aldershot FC….who then went on to consign Wolves to a second season in the basement, with a 3v0 aggregate win in the Final.

Yes I guess Aldershot Town, top of the Blue Square Premier, after going bust in 1992 will do for me…..and Bolton in the last 32 of the UEFA Cup, will do for the Reebok faithful.

So as ‘Big Sam’ considers pastures warmer, my new year message to supporters of 'Big clubs' is….

……work a bit harder to get Northern Rock out of my debt and find those missing 'personal records'!



Aldershot Town lost narrowly to Grays Athletic on Saturday, in a game that was never pretty.

After a comfortable start, the game started to slip away from the Shots when Rhys Day missed from the ‘spot’ and Scott Davies was sent off for a rash challenge.

Two pretty soft goals conceded, a spirited second half fight back, a 65th minute goal from Jonny Dixon….. a late miss…..no points and a young player left to consider the impact that his loss of control had on the result.

I hope he will learn…..and that the team will respond positively. Gary Waddock has much to do if Woking are to be beaten on New Year's Day.

Best wishes for the New Year, to all Blue Square Premier players, management and supporters.

Boxing Day.....

Boxing Day arrived, and my thoughts turned to Kingfield, Woking.

Yes, thoughts…..I had been grounded by mutual consent. Our daughter was travelling back from Twickenham for lunch and of course ‘I will be at home to greet her’, I declared to my wife, with a smile that not even Hazel Blears could better for sincerity.

And then at midday, just as the Shots were kicking off, the suffocating blanket of cloud that had settled above our mountain overnight lifted, and with it my spirits…..

At 1205hrs the phone rang….Didier a friend of more than 30 years called from a village just outside of Nimes. A gentle distraction from the prospect of not being at the game…..I’m not a good stay away supporter. It is why I travel the length and breadth of the country every week. I find it so uncomfortable when subjected to 90 minutes of reliance on text messages and the odd picture message from my brothers.

1v0 Shots….Hudson 78 minutes……

As 2000 travelling Shots fans, in a crowd of 4356, filed joyfully out of Kingfield I settled back into my chair and looked out across the distant Bristol Channel.

I raised my glass…..


‘The lads, we are top of the league’….played 23, won 18, drawn 1, lost 4.….55 points.

Emeralds and Leprechauns

I shut my office at 1100hrs Friday. And for the first time in over 30 years decided against a staff party. Perhaps it’s a sign of getting old, but as I walked back into Cardiff for a couple of pints with friends, all I could see was excess and tomorrows headache.

But my health conscious approach didn’t extend to my wife and her colleagues….who partied long into the night, in a hotel not far from our home.

My lunchtime self-control transformed seamlessly into a late night taxi.

At 1.15am a ‘happy’ wife exclaimed…..’what about Tesco’s!’. I initially took the outpouring to be a statement and not a question. But I soon realised my wife had hatched a fantastic plan….Christmas food shopping at 1.30am. What a great idea?

Now, I don’t do shopping in daylight hours, so the prospect of walking around a superstore in the early hours filled me with trepidation. But then I looked across to my ‘happy’ wife. Evening gown, high heels, all set off with emerald and diamond earrings. Yes, perhaps shopping could be fun…..

I have to say I was impressed….all of the store full of workers. Busily filling shelves for the expected big invasion on Saturday. Reindeers doing the veg….Santas, the toys and games….Snowmen, the freezer cabinets and Leprechauns, the wines and spirits. I put it all down to years of planning.

Hayes last Saturday in the FA Trophy turned out to be a thoroughly professional demolition of a team who must have started the day thinking….‘yes we can surprise them. They won’t fancy the cold and soulless atmosphere,’

Well sorry Hayes, but this Aldershot Town team is fit, keen and mean. Well organised and not prepared to give anything less than the appropriate effort. On Saturday it was of course no more than 85%…and for that, Hayes should be thankful.

Oxford United today, in some cup that doesn’t register on my radar, is for me, a game to miss. My car needs a rest and so do I.

Best wishes to all football followers, Worldwide…..

And to the players and management of Aldershot Town FC….thank you for bringing so much joy back to the Rec.

I'm a miserable shopper......

Like Adelie penguins approaching the edge of the ice shelf, we shuffled, as one, towards the check-out. Arms stretched to the extreme. Baskets full of toys and games.

Michael. Is he two or three? And Peter a year older, surely. Matthew…..does he really like science? And he must be six now? Children these days seem to know so much more...or do they?.

I know my brothers and sister emailed lists. Page after page of what everyone wanted. From Leslie Thomas to Thomas the Tank Engine. Spitfires to Wings. So much I could have bought.

But where would be the fun in that. Who ever remembers the Uncle that purchased the present you really wanted?

No, it is the miniature Swiss Cuckoo Clock bought, after too many glasses of red wine, at 3.30pm on Christmas Eve 35 years ago, just as the shops were about to close, that still holds pride of place in my sister’s kitchen. Sindy…..what four year old girl would want a Sindy doll when you could have a miniature Swiss Cuckoo Clock?

The Penguins moved forward remorselessly. And as I approached the tills, no sound of cash. ‘Plastic’ the miserable curse of Christmas.

Yes, ‘I’m a miserable shopper...get me out of here!’

But sadly for many, it will be ‘help’, miserable in January because they can’t pay the Visa bill.

The season of goodwill to all approaches……..but for you Gordon….not just yet. You don’t help yourself. Your failure to get to the Treaty signing didn’t go unnoticed. Was it 26 Heads of Government and 27 Foreign Ministers who managed to clear their diaries to get to Lisbon? So was it the usual cock up or was it a clever plan?

Mmmmm, Gordon clever plan? New Labour cock up?

Well that smug looking David Cameron would certainly put it down to cock up. Every week he cries ‘pathetic’ at Prime Minister's questions. Now just a brief word of advice David….we can all see that the Government is pathetic. What would be really clever, is if you could actually deliver a substantive package of proposals that increase the pressure on the hapless PM. Yes, sooner not later would be good. Or the world may just conclude that you are more fluff than substance.

Ah, but ‘Baldrick’ what a star.

I always thought he had the best lines in Blackadder. The short but superbly observed phrase. The look….the perfect timing. ‘Oh, there’s a nasty splinter on that ladder, Sir! A bloke could hurt himself on that.’ - Blackadder Goes Forth - Goodbyeee.

Yes, Vince Cable has developed a well observed approach to remind the Government that splinters can be very dangerous…..

Stafford Rangers last Saturday…4v3.….top of the League and seven points clear. Not the most convincing of performances but then I never thought we would do anything other than win. Torquay then closed the gap with a 2v1 win at Farsley. And so we go into a two weekend break from league action four points clear at the top of the Blue Square Premier….who would have predicted that at the start of the season?

Yes, as we all tuck into our Christmas Day feast we will raise our glasses…..

‘The Lads. We are top of the League’.

It's regrettable.....

‘We shouldn’t be on the beach in Seaton Carew. He’s much more likely to be on a beach in Malaga.’

Yes, on March 22nd 2002 the sardonic Police Sergeant could see the exit strategy as clearly as the run down houses in the former fishing village, battered by the cruel north east wind, that John Darwin had left far behind.

Just not quite right with Malaga, as it would seem John has spent much of the last five years in Panama.

Now canoeing has become the new sport for New Labour.

Gordon received £183,052 from public funds to help party officials to understand new funding rules shortly before New Labour began accepting secret donations. Clearly Gordon should have put his prudence to one side and asked for £200,000.…to buy the ‘paddles’ as well.

So many New Labour canoeists have got into difficulty through Gordon’s lack of vision.

‘I didn’t mean to keep the donations secret’.

‘I didn’t know my actions were dodgy’.

‘It’s regrettable…..’

Now I like that defence…paddle off into the North Sea. Go missing for five years. Claim on the Life Insurance, because the Coroner says you are ‘dead‘. Write off your debts. Come back to life.

Yes. Regrettable that would be a good defence.

Sunday night football is not for me…..despite winning 4v0 at Salisbury .

The goals brilliant and the performance, one that was hallmarked ‘potential Champions’.

I was asked just before the game if I thought we would win. I replied, ‘We are top of the League. They are mid table…..what do you think.’ And that is exactly how we played……

Then the ‘pitch invasion’ by the ‘Blue Square Four’…..I guess the motivation for the breach of law quite obvious.

Low intellect mixed with live television and wrapped up in a free gift at half time.

I do hate televised football…..3pm Saturday is ok with me.

Living in the shadows....

I’m sure it’s tough having to live in the shadow of the ‘boss’ for year after year. And no doubt frustrating too.

The team plays well, results exceed expectation, the fans chant ‘give us a wave’. Newspapers demand opinion from the ‘boss’.

But everyone on the training ground knows that the achievements have been the result of a team effort. In fact the ‘boss’ has had little to do with it. He is no more than a ‘public face’. A man dressed only for the post match interview.

‘Track suit, boss.’ ‘Is it Savile Row?’

And then when the opportunity comes around, of course it makes sense to promote from within. After all Liverpool went from the great Bill Shankly (59-74) to Bob Paisley (74-83) to Joe Fagan (83-85) . That worked ok. Yes, why not the return of the ‘boot room’? Look back. Feed on tradition. Return to the good old days. That will work.

Bolton Wanderers tried. Big Sam to Little Sammy.

I guess that wasn’t a great success.

And then England FC tried. Sven to Steve.

That was never going to be a good plan.

But Tony to Gordon…………great for the political sketch writer. Not so good for the rest of us.

I know the loss of a few personal records is an ‘inconvenience’ Gordon. And Northern Rock? Well, my first impression of Gordon’s stewardship was favourable. In fact I liked his post calamity recovery strategy. Get the story off the front pages with the loss of two CDs then keep it buried with a few dodgy donations. Clever.

Or was it?

Keeping David Abrahams for a rainy day might have looked good on paper, but I’m sorry Gordon, it doesn’t look quite so good in the Papers.

I have no doubt that succession planning is brilliant in the Rushmoor Borough Council Concessionary Bus Passes Department, but for HM Government, England FC and Bolton Wanderers FC the inevitable failure of this approach to the appointment of a Leader, is a painful lesson.

Well it is unless your name is Richard Branson….

Oh and, Your Royal Highness (Prince Charles). Don’t hold your breath mate…..your Mum will last another twenty years.

Back at the Recreation Ground, Aldershot, we have a maturing ‘boss’. A man showing imagination and control. He has transformed the organisation from one of chaos, the hallmark of the previous manager, to a body that exudes, drive….desire…discipline and determination.

And in Martin Kuhl…we now have the perfect ‘boot room’. But Chairman, don’t even think about succession planning.

A 3-2 victory over Grays Athletic last week secured top spot in the Blue Square Premier for another 10 days. And with Torquay losing in the FA Cup today the position is secure for another week.

But it will look so much better with a televised victory at Salisbury on Sunday, kick off 1915hrs.

Now when was the last time we kicked off at 1915hrs on a Sunday?

John Logie Baird was clearly no supporter of Dumbarton FC……

It's all in the timing.....

Gordon. Gordon. Gordon.

Perhaps you are just a bit late with your demand for a review of all Government data handling systems.

How many years was it that you were the man in charge?

Now I would indeed have called you a visionary, if you had come to the conclusion that our personal data was at risk, and things must be improved, in 1997 when you took over at the Treasury.

And just a little observation…..you may regret saying ’I apologise for the inconvenience….’

Moving the Grays Athletic game to a Thursday night to satisfy Setanta would not have gained my approval…. but then who cares about the long distance supporter.

I dislike the influence that television has over football. Call me old fashioned , but a Saturday 3pm kick off is just about right, with the occasional Tuesday evening game to make sure the floodlights are working ok.

So tomorrow I live in hope that the M4 widening at Cardiff will not be too troublesome, and with luck I will get to the Social Club in time for a pint before kick off. If not, then I will return home and pour a glass of Chablis to accompany the memory of Ben Harding’s goal against Rushden last Saturday. A better struck goal I find impossible to recall in all of my years supporting the Shots..

Well done Ben.

For me you have been the player of the season so far……continue to celebrate your new found confidence and the Football League will be your stage next year.

Gary Waddock and Martin Kuhl have built a vibrant team (yes well done to you too Martin……so many points of improvement over last season)….and Ben you are the heart…..brilliant goal.

It’s all in the timing.

And Steve McClaren……….

The English Disease

Italian soccer authorities met last Monday to discuss proposals aimed at tackling the increasing and widespread violence affecting the game. A violence re-ignited by the fatal shooting of a Lazio supporter on Sunday.

The ‘tragic error’ made by the police officer only served to reprise the tragic error made by a supporter in February of this year, when a policeman was killed at a game in Sicily, and the League was suspended for a short time.

So why is it that football hooliganism still carries the cachet of the English Disease, across the World?

The chronology is sadly well defined. A history dating back to the ‘60s when Mods and Rockers played out the First Leg at the seaside; Brighton or Southend or Great Yarmouth, with the return fixture at Stamford Bridge or the Den.

Then the ‘70s saw the emergence of organised hooligan groups (Firms). Burnley offered the Suicide Squad and West Ham the infamous, Inter City Crew.

And we weren’t spared at the Recreation Ground. Long before the birth of the founder member of the Red and Blue Army, the East Bank was claimed by the often ‘ugly’ masses from Swansea, Cardiff, Portsmouth……and not forgetting Reading, who were never pretty.

But ‘safety’ was restored with segregation and fencing…..or was it?

Not to worry, Margaret Thatcher would soon enter the fray. A woman who was not simply satisfied with changing the British political landscape. With no love whatsoever of football. With no understanding of the ‘beautiful game’. A woman who was unable to recite, unaided….Banks, Cohen, Charlton, Moore, Wilson, Ball…….Margaret Thatcher successfully changed the Football landscape of Britain.

Returning the Falkland Islands to British control in 1982 was pretty easy. A few ships and planes. The Black Buck raids on Stanley Airfield by the RAF Avro Vulcan bombers of 44 Squadron……

649 Argentinean soldiers lost their lives.

256 British Servicemen were killed……..

Yes, a ‘war cabinet’ was clearly the answer following the rioting by Millwall fans at Luton in March 1985.

‘Look……I don’t like football. So it will stop’.

‘But Prime Minister. It’s our National Game. Remember Bobby Charlton. Bobby Moore…..and you must remember that silly dance. You know the one, Nobby Stiles, after we won the World Cup in 1966. You can’t close down football, Prime Minister’.

But the events that unfolded before our television eyes at Heysel, on 29 May 1985 would be the tragic dynamic for change. 39 Juventus fans were crushed to death after Liverpool followers broke through a line of police. They ran toward the Juventus fans in a section containing both English and Italian supporters. The fence separating them collapsed. Fighting broke out. Fans fled. A wall collapsed……

English clubs were banned from European competitions until 1990.

The Popplewell Committee was set up as a consequence of a riot at Birmingham City when a young boy lost his life. The disturbance that followed was described by Justice Popplewell as more like ‘the Battle of Agincourt than a football match’.

Shortly thereafter the Bradford City Fire was added to the Popplewell brief. Despite not being hooligan related the terrible event was undoubtedly a direct result of the amateurish and disturbingly arrogant demeanour of football authorities across the UK at that time.

‘Football may not be able to continue in its present form much longer’.

Then Hillsborough…….and at last the Government moved. With the passing of the Football Spectators Act 1989.

The Prime Minister didn’t get her way. Football survived. Stadia were upgraded. The approach to the policing of matches became both sophisticated and expensive. Ticket prices were increased. All-seater stadia became a requirement for much of the League.

And with that, the ‘90s experienced a period change. A decade where standards of behaviour were obviously improving....if one ignored the high profile incidents that characterised travelling away with England.

And when Aldershot Town FC was born in 1992.…the world was indeed a new world. The M25 a pretty standard route for away matches in the Isthmian League...and then with promotion to the Conference, in 2003, exotic trips could be planned to Scarborough and Carlisle. York and Nailsworth.

Long gone, the sad old days when only a hardy few could gather up the motivation to go to Barrow, on a damp and raw Tuesday night. The floodlights barely bright enough to see to the other side of the pitch….’was that a goal…did it go in…. we seem to be kicking off again…yes Bovril will be great…thanks‘.

Yes, long gone…..today Aldershot Town can be sure of a hardcore of 300 at all away games. And last Saturday 650-700 made the trip to the Abbey Stadium, Cambridge, to watch the FA Cup encounter.

A game that Aldershot could so easily have won. A game when a draw would have been a fair result. A game lost by way of two defensive errors, compounded by two glaring misses. A result that gives Aldershot the opportunity to focus on the League.

After all, in every round of the Cup an ‘upset’ will occur. ‘Top of the League Aldershot……..’

The day had started very early with the long drive down from Wales to collect my brother from Crookham Village…….and then a docile M25 allowed us to be settled in the Cambridge United Social Club by 1pm. The clubhouse was, by then, already pretty full with U‘s supporters. The handful of red and blue shirts holding polite conversation around the sides of the large and open room. The two spare seats at our table were soon taken by an elderly couple of United supporters who had moved to Cambridge just over 35 years ago. The husband had served in the Army, based in Aldershot. And having been brought up in Reading his ’real team’ were the Royals. And by chance his very first visit to the Rec coincided with mine….Oct 15th 1960, Peterborough United.

The sharing of reminiscences one of the joys of travelling to away matches.

But as we sat in the U’s Social Club sharing anecdotes spanning nearly 50 years I reflected on the ongoing segregation that pervades our society and controls our football.

Why would anyone want to be kept apart from these two gentle folk? Surely the sharing of experiences and the common bond that clearly existed between us was something to enjoy, and not keep apart. And with the time approaching to leave the Clubhouse; of course we all wanted to sit or stand with our fellow supporters. But this desire was not a definition of segregation. No, this was a feeling nurtured by shared emotions.

So with the kick-off only minutes away we made our way to the ‘new stand’ set back 30m or so from the goal-line. Now I’m sure the positioning of the stand was planned….and not a mistake. The Club just waiting for the right time to build another ‘big stand’ at the Clubhouse end, which would demand the pitch to move 30m eastwards.

As we settled into our seats I was instantly struck by the number of stewards and police. Was it 20.…. No probably 30 . A line of officialdom stretching out across the whole width of the pitch, in front of the Aldershot supporters.

And to do what? Protection for the distant Cambridge goalkeeper? Did the Force have intelligence that suggested a massive pitch invasion? And what chance of making contact with a Cambridge supporter…the nearest one being some 50m away.

But then not simply satisfied with this impressive show of strength, the Senior Officer commanded a ‘march past’. Up and through the singing hoards of Red and Blue Army members. A move obviously choreographed after watching a DVD of the Empire Strikes Back.

Oh, and then to compound the confrontation, a young policewoman, guarded by a burly minder, walked slowly from stage left to right, videoing the crowd.

The Cambridgeshire Policing Plan for 2007-08 is not, I would think, everyone’s bedtime read. In fact it is full of the usual rubbish that public bodies present on an annual basis to show that they are improving….meeting targets….and exceeding expectations.

The budget for the year is £116m - a ‘challenging year for the force financially…..’ Police officer numbers will be reduced by 22 to 1401 and the Authority had to raid £558k from its reserves to deliver the ‘Plan’. And Partnership and other income amounted to £2,517,000, with efficiency savings including a planned reduction of £250k in overtime spend.


Mmmmmmm isn’t it strange how as one gets older one can see more clearly!

Now how will the force improve the policing of Friday and Saturday night City centre frolics with fewer ‘bobbies’? It will demand more overtime. But this could pose a bit of a problem….we have just cut that budget. Perhaps then an increase in ‘paid activity’ will help fill the pockets of the officers and with just a bit of profit, the ‘other income’ will increase. And then with simple virement the ‘Plan’ can be met.

Now that is a good plan Chief Constable.

And oh, what a bit of luck. With the promotion of Histon Town a few more Friday night games will generate plenty of overtime cash. And after the final whistle the ‘boys’ can get down to the City centre for a couple of hours…..

Cambridge United v Aldershot Town. FA Cup First Round Proper. Saturday 11th November 2007.

‘Manna from Heaven Boss’

'Lest we Forget'

Set like a diamond in a Tiffany ring the Burgh Island Hotel is a unique and stylish retreat. Built in 1929 the English Art Deco style hotel is now completely restored, offering history and period opulence wrapped up in 21st century standards.

At low tide Burgh Island, off the coast of south Devon, can be reached on foot and at high tide the Sea Tractor, operated by the Hotel, provides a ‘ferry’ service.

Over the years the Island has been closely linked with many famous people and events. Agatha Christie was inspired by the setting. She wrote Then There Were None and the Poirot mystery, Evil Under the Sun, as a result of her many visits to the Hotel. Then in 2002 the TV adaptation of the Poirot mystery used the Island and Hotel as a filming location.

Visitors to the Hotel have include Noel Coward along with King Edward VIII and Mrs Simpson. And, secretly, Eisenhower and Churchill met there in the weeks leading up to the D-Day Landings.

Our autumn break was great. But I have suffered, just a bit, without my football……

A draw at Crawley and then victory at home in the FA Cup was followed by an away win at Weymouth. Aldershot into the First Round of the Cup and top of the League…..I missed it all.

Sitting not far from the away dugout at the Rec is certainly not a place for the shy and retiring. For more years than I care to remember, unfriendly banter, directed towards the men in the ‘away hutch’, has crashed down over our heads like a tidal wave of insensitivity.

But in all of those years I have never experienced an aggressive coming together of the two sets of management. Just my ‘luck’ then, that when Halley’s Comet passed across the Recreation Ground night sky…..I was in south Devon…..and missed the ‘excitement’.

So I had to be satisfied with just a brief report on the alleged incident between the Aldershot and Crawley coaching staff, in a text from my brother, followed by comment on the Shots message board.

Now, the coming together of players and management outside the Laws of the Game is undoubtedly a funny thing.

Verbal abuse is increasingly commonplace among managers. The press love it. They stoke the fire….and the majority of managers respond by playing out the sordid ritual as if their future depended upon it. Wenger, Ferguson, Mourinho….all consummate masters. Steve Evans, Crawley Town FC………

But physical contact between managers and coaches is rare. When it does happen, I guess the two parties quickly realise how pathetic they look and move on…..

Or in the case of Wenger and Pardew…one moves Club and gets relegated.

But between players.?

The favoured approach is, for many, the head-butt. Take for example, Luis Figo’s attack on Mark van Bommel in the 2006 World Cup. No. Perhaps not. In some quarters, I guess his hair could be considered a ‘weapon of mass destruction’. But not even George Bush would go to war over it.

Of course the head-butt properly delivered can be an effective form of attack. Take Zinedine Zidane. He is no doubt an expert. And not only an expert. But a clever one too. Head on head hurts. Head on sternum. Yes, that would work.

Stefan Freund, when playing at Leicester City, experienced big Duncan Ferguson at his ‘best’. Dunc was never a man to upset. ‘After you Duncan. Sorry I trod on your toes. I’m a member of the Tartan Army at weekends’.

Not enough to appease Dunc I’m afraid, and Stefan had his head ‘removed at the neck‘.


‘When the seagulls follow the trawler. It’s because they think the sardines will be thrown in to the sea’.

Yes, Eric Cantona of - Auxerre, Martigues, Marseille, Bordeaux, Montpellier, Nimes, Leeds United and Manchester United was no Isaac Rosenberg. But he did become infamous for an incident that occurred on 25 January 1995. In an away match at Crystal Palace, and after being sent off by the referee for a vengeful kick on Palace defender Richard Shaw, he launched a ‘Kung-Fu’ style attack at a Crystal Palace fan, Matthew Simmons.

After the seagulls had left the trawler far behind, Cantona was sentenced to 120 hours of community service after an appeal court overturned a 2 week prison sentence for assault.

But all of this crude aggression should have no place in the ‘beautiful game’. They are simply acts of violence born out of mental frailty and nurtured with the acceptance of child-like petulance.

Aggression in football is of course the ingredient that sets it apart from netball….and the all-time best illuminators of the passion and power.?

Dave Mackay and Billy Bremner.

Bremner, who sadly died in 1997 at the age of 55, was a diminutive but hard midfield player who made 587 appearances for Leeds United. Mackay, despite standing just 5ft 8in, exuded an awesome physical presence. Muscular thighs and a barn-door chest. He tackled like a granite avalanche. Not for him the kiss of the badge on his chest to signify his passionate desire to win.

Mackay was a man to whom you answered ….‘yes, I will’.

Dave Mackay’s career was made famous at Spurs where he won the League in 60/61 and the FA cup in 60/61, 61/62 and 66/7. But his passion was born in Edinburgh with Heart of Midlothian.

The words ‘Lest we Forget’ form the refrain of ‘Recessional’, Rudyard Kipling’s poem, composed on the occasion of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897. The phrase passing into common usage after the First World War, becoming linked with Remembrance Day observations - and often found as the only wording on war memorials.

And as our thoughts turn towards Cambridge United on Saturday….just a moment to remind ourselves of the sacrifice made by so many. How is it that our Leaders still think ‘going into Iran’ would be a good thing?

On the 26th November 1914, with Heart of Midlothian comfortably leading the Scottish First Division, sixteen players exchanged their football boots for Army Issue. They enlisted to fight in France inspiring many others to do the same.

Seven members of the Hearts team were killed.

Another, Paddy Crossan, was so badly injured that his right leg was labelled for amputation. He pleaded with the German surgeon, ‘I need my leg - I’m a footballer.’ His leg was saved but he died after the war from the effects of poison gas, which had destroyed his lungs.

In The Trenches

I snatched two poppies
From the parapet’s ledge,
Two bright red poppies
That winked on the ledge.
Behind my ear
I struck one through,
One blood red poppy
I gave to you.

The sandbags narrowed
And screwed out our jest,
And tore the poppy
You had on your breast…
Down - a shell - O! Christ,
I am choked….safe…dust blind, I
See trench floor poppies
Strewn. Smashed you lie.

Isaac Rosenberg (1890-1918)




Saturday will be just another game of football…..

‘Lest we forget’

Taking a break

After sixteen consecutive games it's time for an autumn break....and I will not be making the long trip across to Crawley today, for the FA Cup qualifying round.

And with the decision to play the Weymouth game on Friday evening next week, my rest will be extended for another game as we are off to Burgh Island for a well earned short holiday on Monday.


To score in the 95th minute last Saturday, consigning a hard working and well organised Halifax team to a miserable trip back north, was a sign of the relentless desire to succeed that Aldershot's young team has developed this season.

But caution....Hudson and Hylton looked keen and desperate to impress. Harding, the player of the season to date, showing just a touch of tiredness.....and the rest?

Gary Waddock certainly needs to find a way of recharging the emotional batteries.

Have we got any more sherry, Ming....

‘Ming darling , have we got any more Sherry? The decanter is empty and I can’t see any more bottles of Bristol Cream in the sideboard.’

Elspeth, Lady Grant-Suttie, was just a little bit frantic. It had been a busy day. A morning meeting with the Lib Dem Ladies Inner Circle followed by an afternoon with …..

’Ming. I said, have we got any more Sherry?’

‘I don’t think so. But I will pop down to the Spar and buy a bottle. Can you just hang on for a few minutes.’

‘Ok darling I‘ll put the news on and we can watch it together when you get back‘

‘Sorry Elsp. No Bristol cream. So I got some Spanish stuff. It was cheap, so I bought a couple of bottles.’

‘Ming….you’ve just resigned’ . ‘What me?’.

‘Yes ,that nice Simon Hughes and the other one…you know the more sinister character, have just announced on the news, that you have resigned,’

‘ That’s handy Elspeth because there’s a Stamp Fair in Edinburgh tomorrow.’

And you heard it here first….by the time of the next general Election the Liberal Democrats will be back to being plain old Liberals…..

Situated within the predominantly rural borough of East Staffordshire, just 11 miles south of Derby and 30 miles north-west of Birmingham, Burton-upon-Trent is a richly varied town with a population of 80,000.

The name Burton-upon-Trent is synonymous throughout the world with quality beers - a tradition dating back to the 13th century when Benedictine Monks reportedly discovered Burton’s water to be ideal for brewing.

And the football team……

Burton were formed in 1950, and after a few seasons in the Birmingham & District League they joined the Southern League in 1958. And had a few seasons in the Northern Premier League before joining the Conference in 2002.

Albion began life at the Lloyds Foundry ground on Wellington Street, but high attendances meant that the club quickly searched for a more suitable home. Eton Park was built off Derby Road and officially opened on September 20, 1958, coinciding with their promotion to the Southern League. From then until it's demolition in 2005 the Brewers played all of their home games at Eton Park. The quaint old ground was demolished to make way for housing, when Burton moved to the new Pirelli Stadium at a cost of £7.2 million.

Despite having a superb winning record against Burton, Aldershot Town found the trip north a bit of a struggle last Saturday. And the 2v0 defeat was a fair reflection of the game.

Injuries to key players didn’t help the cause and with some of the ‘younger’ players looking in need of a rest, Burton were just too strong for Aldershot. But if the couple of late chances had been converted into goals the Shots would have come away from the Pirelli Stadium with a very lucky point.

The Manager will have learned a lot from this game and Halifax will be a walk in the park tomorrow……

Progress......

One of our most dramatic local wildlife corridors has to be the Severn Estuary. Wild and exposed, open to the elements. A hostile environment for us humans, but it’s location on the north Atlantic flyway for migratory birds means that it’s mudflats and salt marshes are of vital importance for wildfowl.

And it is when I cross Europe's most dynamic estuary that I start to focus on the upcoming ‘match’.

Ebbsfleet on Tuesday night…..another hard fought game. Despite a series of defensive lapses the team came together and delivered a 2v0 victory. Ebbsfleet were certainly no mugs and with the win came the elevation of Aldershot Town to a position at the top of the Conference. A status that is neither false nor undeserved.

No, this is a position carved from the effort of a squad of players who understand the value of commitment and desire….where the contribution to others rate higher than self indulgence.

Ah, but back to the Severn…..and no, not my gripe at the £5.10 that I pay out each time I return home.

No, it is that this, the most dramatic of vistas will all be destroyed by the construction of a barrage across the Severn, while other less striking measures that would cost less and could do more to cut carbon emissions, are ignored. Progress….I hate progres.

Burton Albion tomorrow.....now we are top, Gary and Martin will have to develop a new and more challenging strategy......it can be achieved.

Making the right decision......

I am surprised that it has taken Gordon Brown 56 years to learn that decision making is not just about the ‘decision’ but most importantly the timing of the decision.

Gordon you simply could have decided that to call a General Election after two years of Labour’s third term was unacceptable, 100 days ago…..after all you knew that you wanted to show the Country how effective your vision will be, when you were gifted the job of Prime Minister. Didn‘t you?

Now Football Referees have a thankless task. Their decisions are exposed to scrutiny in every game that they officiate. Whether it is in the local park, hounded by irate and ‘knowledgeable’ parents or under the microscope of the Sky TV ‘reverse camera angle’, refs will never find respite.

But like Gordon, they must make the right decision based on what they see, applying their own judgement to the evidence. Tough I guess. And not something that most of us would wish upon ourselves. So much easier to shout….‘Lino you’re useless….. Ref you know you got that wrong‘.

Clive ‘the Book’ Thomas was one of the World’s top Refs. Clive came from Treorchy, in the Rhondda. And, the ‘highlight’ of his career was not controlling Aldershot’s most famous game…..September 9th 1970, Aldershot v Manchester United, Football League Cup 2nd Rd, 1v3 in front of a crowd of 18509 …..no, it was during his second appearance at the World Cup.

Yes, Clive was in charge of the first round pool game between Sweden and Brazil at Mar de Plata, Estadio Jose Maria Minella on June 3rd 1978. Clive controlled the game in his own distinctive style. Time keeping was with the aid of the watch given to him by the Organising Committee.

Then ooops. Clive got the decision right. He blew for the end of the game……but Brazil had been denied top spot in their group with that single blast of the whistle. He had blown for full-time at the precise moment that Zico's header was crossing the line for what would have been a match-winning winning goal against Sweden. The disbelieving samba boys had to settle for 1-1 and then went on to meet Argentina in the second group stage……

To this day Clive claims that his decision was right. And the watch clearly keeps excellent time….he is never late for a meeting. But the application of judgement is the telling lesson in this case. And for Clive his World Cup was over, the dream of controlling the Final shattered by the judgement of the Organising Committee.

Mr P Gibbs was in control of the Stevenage v Aldershot Town game on Saturday……judgement and opinion. I have my own.

It was in about the twentieth minute of Saturday’s game that my brother turned to me and confided that he thought Stevenage were like a Pub Team. I reflected on this observation and concluded that indeed, when compared to the skill and potential fluidity of Aldershot, the simile could be accurate….but unfortunately they were also well organised, strong and motivated. And the Stevenage Manager had clearly undertaken a detailed review of Aldershot’s strengths and established a plan to stifle them.

From the own goal in the 24th minute our approach became increasingly chaotic and the Stevenage side displayed even greater organisation and control…3v1 a fair result in the end.


Gary Waddock will have used the intervening days to reflect on his team selection, initial set-up, tactical changes and use of substitutes. Good teams always build on the mistakes made. Great teams come back considerably stronger after defeat…..


I look forward to this evenings game, against Ebbsfleet United, with optimism. We are a good team and I believe we can become a great one.

Back to Stevenage.....for the first time in just over twenty years

It’s hard to keep a balanced view of British politics when we have such idiots in power, and so many more idiots in waiting.

And my wife thinks I have been too hard on poor Gordon. ‘Why no comment on the boy David’, she asked this week. Well ‘it’s difficult to comment on nothing‘, I replied.

A bit of a flounce around the stage at Blackpool earlier this week seemed to me, at least, not quite enough substance to capture my vote. So how come 2 million voters switched their favour from Gordon to David on the back of a sixty odd minute speech…..?

Ruth Kelly on Question Time last night was drooling over Cameron’s ability to speak for an hour without notes. Well Ruth, let me tell you, I have seen Billy Connolly in concert and he did two hours.

And all of this being played out as Aldershot Town sent Exeter City back to Devon, pointless.

Not the most convincing of performances from the Shots, but the victory was sealed with two of the best goals that I have witnessed at the Rec in nearly 50 years. The pace and power of Aldershot in the last twenty minutes of the game was just too much for the worst Exeter side that I have seen. The 2v0 result secured by way of good substitutions from our manager and plenty of pace on the bench to take advantage of a pedestrian Exeter defence, made slower by the tireless work of Rob Elvins.

But the 'big news' this week has been the comment over the possible departure of our keeper Nikki Bull. Will he go in January or at the end of the season?

Quite clearly Nikki is giving his best for the Shots….he is a good keeper and it is in his best interest to perform well, if he genuinely wants to get away.

So how can we lose? If he stays we retain a good keeper, and if he goes it is because…… he is a good keeper.

His ambition is admirable but I would caution him. After so many years at the Rec he may find the outside world a hostile and somewhat unfamiliar place.

Despite the abolition of the maximum wage in 1961 a number of players left England for Italy in the early sixties. ….lured by the Lire…..Dennis Law played 27 games for Torino scoring 10 goals, Jimmy Greaves 14 games for AC Milan scoring 9 and both were pre-dated by Joe Baker at Torino and John Charles at Juventus.

Of course they were all truly great players. But only Charles with 93 goals in 150 games, between 1957 and 1962, made a success of the move to Italy. For all of the others the end result was no different than the experience of Ian Rush in 1987.…..when asked how he was getting on in Turin he replied, ‘it’s like living in a foreign country’. He came home pretty quick, following the same path as Law and Greaves before.

And when talking of the lure of the Lire….let’s not forget Jack Howarth, who came to Aldershot from Swindon Town…he played out six seasons at the Rec before moving to Rochdale, only to return within the year. He then went on to play another four seasons with Aldershot.

So I guess my observation to Nikki is….’foreign country…think carefully‘.

Despite getting to 43 league and cup games last season….and not missing that many matches in the previous Conference seasons, I have never been to Stevenage. Business meetings or the dread of tangling with the M4 and M25 on a midweek evening have always been pretty good reasons to keep me away from Broadhall Way. But tomorrow I will be returning to Stevenage for the first time since September 1986.

I had been invited to give a presentation at a Conference organised by the Eastern Council for Sport and Recreation, held at Stevenage Leisure Centre. I arrived at the theatre in time for lunch, and was greeted by ‘Sir’ Trevor Brooking, Chairman of the Eastern Council for Sport and Recreation. Yes, just two years after his retirement from playing for West Ham, where he made 636 appearances, Trevor was finding his way through the political maze of sport.

Trevor took me to one side just as I was about to check out the vol-au-vents and told me that there had been a bit of a change in the running order. My keynote presentation after lunch was to be put back by half an hour to fit in a session by the Chairman of the Hertfordshire Keep Fit Association.

‘No problem Trevor’ I replied with out a moments thought.

Trevor hadn’t been totally honest with me….Joyce, the Chairman of the Keep Fit body, had contracted stage fright the night before the conference. The thought of delivering a thirty minute presentation to an audience of 400 people was just too much. The answer was of course a practical demonstration.

Her session…..’Bridging the gap - young women’…delivered with 30 scantily clothed ‘fit’ women certainly went down well with the mature male audience .

‘Thank you Joyce…we all enjoyed that…no time for questions…our next speaker is….please welcome…..’

What a warm up act…..

Stevenage will be well organised on Saturday…….

And finally….It’s good to have you back Jim……a personal note.

The Conference Season

As the Conference Season draws to a close, with the final games being played out in Blackpool this week, all of our attention is being drawn to Gordon’s big decision.

Will he call an autumn General Election?

Now forgive me for being a bit dull. But didn’t I vote in an election on May 5th 2005? And didn’t Tony Blair lead the Labour Party to a third consecutive victory? And wasn’t Labour’s House of Commons majority 66?

Mmmm, and another thing. Don’t General Elections cost a lot of money…..my money?

So just a couple of years after retaining power and then being gifted the top job in the Country….I didn’t see the advert in the Times appointments….the ‘grim-faced son of the manse’ may just call another election because his advisers tell him, ‘the opinion polls look good, Gordon’.

‘No Prime Minister. No’ is the answer Your Majesty should bestow on Gordon, when he asks permission to dissolve Parliament.

Politicians and their hangers-on….and in some cases ‘partners’. …..have only one fundamental desire. Personal survival. And one ambition. Personal advancement.

I’ve known and worked closely with a number of leading Politicians over the years, and I can’t say that I have liked any of them. In fact I don’t know of one who I would entrust with the safe keeping of my ‘Aldershot FC programme collection’ for an afternoon. And certainly not for a maximum Parliamentary term of five years.

So when Jack Dromey, Trade Unionist and official hanger-on to Harriet Harman (Deputy Leader of the Labour Party) had a go at Boris Johnson during the Party Conference, I felt just a bit of political passion rising.

Now I don’t have any more time for the politics of Boris than I do for those of Ken Livingstone. And living on a hill top retreat in Wales I don’t suppose the winner of the 2008 London Mayoral Election will have much of an impact on me.

No, but I just might like Boris if I met him. Calling him a ‘tufty toff from Eton’ who was as ‘genuine as a nine-bob note’ was a bit rich coming out of the mouth of a man who on March 15th 2006, in the Cash for Peerages scandal, spoke of being unaware, despite being party treasurer, of £3.5million worth of loans….in fact it wasn’t until he read the papers that he knew anything about it.

Oh and by the way Jack….your wife was the niece of an earl and attended St Paul’s Girls School. But unlike Boris who went from Eton to become President of the Oxford Union , poor Harriet ended up at York.

And I have no doubt that David Cameron and his platform guests will do their best to upstage all those who have gone before…..

Football blog….yes, I remember……this is a football blog.

And it’s not just politicians who demand media attention.

But the constant need for the media to have ’comment’ and a ‘story’ makes the life of a football manager a nightmare. Some are of course very clever….Jose was brilliant. But Brian Clough was the best….his one liners fill page after page of ‘Google searches’.

And some managers dine out on their past comment. Reliving a quality of output that would fall well short of the standard required by Boris, when editor of the Spectator between 1999 and 2005.

Bobby Gould was awarded the Golden Bull Award by the Plain English Campaign for his Wimbledon FC Programme notes in 1987.…..and yes, they were…. ’good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, all I hope personally this afternoon is that we don’t have an ’after the Lord Mayors Show’ game situation!…….’

A few years ago Bobby and I were guests at a ‘Sporting Dinner’. At the time Bobby was Manager of Wales. And a bit like Aldershot’s manager last season….he was under pressure. The results were not good. Performances dire. And the fans had had enough.

But as we sat next to each other at dinner, I warmed to him. He spoke in a language that was not readily discernable. But he appeared open and honest. Clearly genuine. A nice man.

He spoke with great pride of his son.

No, not Jonathan who made 109 league appearances for Celtic and was capped twice by Scotland (he also made 14 appearances for Hereford in 2004). No the sense of pride was for his other son…..a serving officer in the Army.

He started the conversation with the Balkans, it continued through religion, tanks, snow, politics, the United Nations….I was breathless. But Bobby didn’t stop. All of his sentences joined as one.

I turned briefly to his charming wife in search of support. She smiled and whispered in my ear. ‘When he starts at home I get the silver polish out. And do a few of his trophies and medals. He will pause for breath soon….’

And she was right. Just after a return trip to Kosovo he stopped……then he started up again.

After all that I feel a bit more focussed….and Aldershot Town FC sit proudly in third place in the Conference. A great point at Cambridge on Tuesday evening, only to be followed by a weekend off because of television. How I look forward to the day when all matches kick off at 3pm on a Saturday afternoon. Come on Gordon do something useful with my money for once.

And what of the game at the Abbey Stadium?

Passion and pace after a slightly too respectful start. A goal for Aldershot inevitable….was it really so late in the game (87mins).

And the obvious difference between this season and the previous two….all of the players want to play. All of the substitutes want to get on the pitch. And when they do….like Dean Smith on Tuesday evening, they play with the same enthusiasm and desire as the rest. The whole of the squad have developed a togetherness and infectious desire that will overcome much bigger and stronger teams. And Dean, who spent last season looking like a frightened rabbit caught in the headlights of a car, played with a confidence that can only be the result of our pre season management change.

Best of luck AFC Wimbledon ……….but I am so pleased that Aldershot Town now have a good young man at the helm.

Exeter next Tuesday will be a test and Stevenage on Saturday will be another hard game. But I have confidence in our management team. I'm sure they will grow stronger with our results, and they will learn from the mistakes that have been made. But above all else, Gary and Martin will build upon the power of ‘the team‘.

Time for reflection

What a feeling of satisfaction. Aldershot Town top of the Conference.....

And in a week when two of Yorkshire's finest were sent home without a point between them, perhaps just a tad unjustly, I was reminded through two encounters just how important the Club is to me.

York City was a hard fought three points. But it was earlier in the Social Club that my emotions were stirred.

It's funny how friendships are born at football matches. The same faces seen each week at The Recreation Ground....and then, somehow, a different ensemble at away matches. The simple conversation. Will we win? Will Elvins score? It was great at Oxford. I didn't see you. Did you go? No depth to the conversation. No need to evaluate the rubbish that pours from the mouths of politicians.

Now, what was it that Gordon said today?

Who cares. We are playing Cambridge tomorrow.

So as I sat in the Social Club, on Tuesday evening, chatting to an 'old friend', listening to her story and the place that Aldershot has played in her life I stopped for just a moment and turned my own memory back to 2003. The surgery that could have gone better! The close encounter with the next World....I didn't like it. So I returned, and by the time we played Tamworth away, securing a point in a 3v3 thriller, I was on the road to recovery....in fact I was back on the road to every game, to the end of that glorious first season in the Conference.

And then on Saturday, just before we were taken to the wire by a Farsley Celtic side, who may be good enough to stay up this season, I was reminded by another 'friend' just how important the club is to us all.

2300 faces....all sharing the emotion of a 4v3 victory and the prospect of going top. No doubt only to be followed, at some point with defeat, and inevitable disappointment.

But these are the feelings that bring together the 2300 faces. Forget the badge kissing. Ignore the juvenile chants of abuse. Just gather in the reflected emotion....

And when you see such emotion in the face of the spectator next to you....it won't be Abramovich, Glazer or Thaksin Shinawatra.

Cambridge United on Tuesday will be big, tough and direct. Gary Waddock knows what to expect and we will be.....

Just in case you are reading my Blog Mr Quinn....we will be a surprise.

Baroness Thatcher.....

Gosh what a week it's been....Northern Rock and the Government stepping in to bale out a failing company.....with my money. The Liberal Democrat Conference. Held somewhere nice, I'm sure...and did they make some promises? And then someone probably said something they shouldn't have....

And who has the time to attend political conferences anyway?

More importantly Aldershot Town beat York City, the self proclaimed 'Arsenal of the Conference' 2v0 on Tuesday evening.

A competent performance against a well organised and determined team. Aldershot showing more composure in the second half with the introduction of Newman. And Elvins , just maybe, heading for cult status alongside the greats of Jack Howarth, Giorgio Mazzon and Darren Anderson.

But I guess the big news story of the week was, Jose Mourinho leaving Chelsea.

Now to be honest I don't have any time for Chelsea and I certainly never regarded Mourinho as 'the special one'. But the circumstances that led to his demise are fascinating....and they can be traced back to a day more than 23 years ago.

On December 17th 1984 John Cole , BBC, asked Margaret Thatcher.
'Does meeting Gorbachev , make you more optimistic or less regarding detente and world peace next year? Prime Minister'.

'I am cautiously optimistic. I like Mr. Gorbachev . We can do business together.'

The television interview with Thatcher was recorded just three months before Mikhail Gorbachev became the leader of the Soviet Union. An interview that was to be the start of a move by the West back to a new detente with the USSR under Gorbachev’s leadership. A leadership that ultimately coincided with the final erosion of Soviet power, prior to its eventual collapse in 1991.

But Margaret Thatcher did more than change the political landscape of Britain, she changed the landscape.

Tom Jones had a hit in 1965 with, Green Green Grass of Home. And this just a couple of years after he was the frontman for Tommy Scott and the Senators, a local beat group who performed regularly at the Pontypridd YMCA.

The Rhondda, Cynon and Taf Ely Valley's had been brown with industrial waste and surrounded by coal tips for well over one hundred years. And Tom Jones' birthplace no more than a few miles from Aberfan where, at 9.15am on 21 October 1966, 144 people, 116 of them children, were killed when a tip of coal waste slid onto the village.

Green Green Grass of Home. Not for the poor children of Aberfan.

The confrontational strikes carried out by the National Union of Mineworkers in 1984-85 were followed by the pit closure programme....the rest is of course history. And the landscape of south Wales is now green.

But back to the Soviet Union.....

Roman Abramovich was born on October 24th 1966. His early years no different to many Russians at the time. Born into a Jewish family, with his paternal grandparents exiled to Siberia. He grew up as an orphan, as his mother died when he was one year old and his father was killed in an accident on a construction site, when he was three years old.

A brief period in the Soviet Army coincided, in 1985, with Gorbachev implementing economic reforms that he hoped would improve living standards and worker productivity, as part of his perestroika programme.

By 1988 Gorbachev gave new freedoms to the people, including freedom of speech, under glasnost. This radical change, that struck at the heart and central control of the government, was the beginning of the collapse of the Soviet Union.

As for Roman, well he could smell the oil.

By the late 1980's he had set up a few small private businesses. And between 1992 and 1995 Abramovich founded five companies that specialised in the trading of oil and oil products.

And in 1995, just four years after the collapse of the Soviet Union Abramovich, together with Boris Berezovsky acquired the controlling interest in the oil company, Sibneft....now I'm not going to say any more, other than; it was a very good deal for young Roman.

Then in 2003 Abramovich took control of Chelsea, when Ken Bates sold up.

For a woman who despised football so much, Margaret Thatcher's influence over the game may extend as long as the half life of uranium 238.

Oh yes….Ken Bates now the Chairman of Leeds United. Another club purchased for a £1...well almost. Talk about looking after the pennies and….

Leeds not far from Farsley. Or should that be Farsley not far from Leeds.

I’m sure Farsley Celtic will be a hard working team on Saturday.....

Honest endeavour......

‘He was like a cock who thought the sun had risen to hear him crow’ - (George Eliot)

Jan Ludvik Hoch was born in the small town of Slatinske Doly in the Carpathian Mountains of Czechoslovakia in 1923.

He died Ian Robert Maxwell on November 5th 1991. His body found floating in the Atlantic Ocean off the Canary Islands. He fell overboard from his luxury yacht, Lady Ghislaine.

And Oxford United was, until 1960, Headington United. A club founded in 1893. The name change a matter of profile, and driven by the desire to gain entry to the Football League….

And in 1962 their wish came true, when they were elected to join the League following the demise of Accrington Stanley.

Early success was followed by a period of mediocrity…..and then along came Robert Maxwell. A man whose business empire was built on heavy indebtedness and dishonest practices. His arrogance was such that he ‘borrowed’ millions of pounds from his companies’ pension funds to prop up his group of companies.

Yes, in 1982 Cap’n Bob the man lampooned by the satirical magazine Private Eye as the ‘bouncing Czech’ , took over Oxford United. His ‘money’ took Oxford into the top flight and subsequently they experienced success at Wembley, a 3v0 win over Queens Park Rangers in the Milk Cup Final of 1986.

Then Bob was off to Derby and the Club started to slide…..

So it is somewhat reassuring to find the ‘bouncing Czech’s’ arrogance still pervading the club.

Always beware when someone warns….‘Condescending comment alert’….yes page 50 of the Oxford United v Aldershot Town programme carried a piece under the title, ‘On the road - Altrincham’

‘The thing is, Altrincham still are plucky non-leaguers, and last Saturday they were as plucky as a chicken on the run from Bernard Matthews.’

Mmmmm nice writing….not quite George Eliot, but then she was good.

Oh and then with just a hint of Cap’n Bob…..’we venture into the main stand at Moss Lane and survey the land. It’s not the most graceful of grounds……’

Graceful……

Now did the author hold a vision in his head of a graceful Kassam Stadium, Oxford?

I took a bit of time out on Saturday to have a look at the Kassam, before heading for the Priory pub to meet my brothers. The Priory, a sanctuary fighting to keep at bay the sea of concrete, tin and tarmac that out of town developments create.

But not even the brilliant late summer sunshine could bring me to love the Kassam.

The floodlights strung along the leading edge of the main stand like pigeons roosting on a redundant building….repeated on the north stand? No of course not. The stand being slightly smaller, required the lanterns to be fixed to small columns.

And so lacking in emotion. Concrete and cheap tin doesn’t evoke images of Firenze or Provence. In fact it evokes memories of tin and concrete….

The completed Kassam’s ‘architecture’ just 6 years old. …. .a case study for any aspiring designer……firmitas, utilitas, venustas (Vitruvious).

But the game was brilliant. Aldershot Town bursting with invention and energy. Oxford pedestrian and predictable during a first half that saw the Shots go in 2v0 to the good.

The half time team talk will be reviewed by Gary Waddock this week, in preparation for Tuesday’s fixture with York City. He got the early second half tactics wrong, and as an intelligent young manager he knows what he should have done.

Oxford came out for the second half with more pace and soon got the game back to 2v2.

But the game was won by Aldershot. A team that was not prepared to give Oxford the satisfaction of one point, let alone three. The effort and combined purpose was too much for Oxford. The winning goal coming from a corner….


I’m sorry Oxford but this is non-league football. It’s not easy. And I have a feeling , you haven’t visited Moss Lane for the last time (subject to Altrincham ‘staying up’)

Endeavour......

It’s been a busy week and for some reason the memory of beating Northwich Victoria, 5v0, has not inspired me to write……..

They were a poor side, and will be relegated along with Droylsden and Altrincham, unless some miracle occurs between now and their last game, against Cambridge United on May 3rd 2008.

In parts, Aldershot played pretty well on Saturday. The young and vibrant midfield proving too strong for such sluggish opposition. And it was nice to see Rob Elvins score, after a much improved performance. He may just prove his detractors wrong… I hope so.

Oh, and the last relegation spot will be taken by Farsley Celtic or Stafford Rangers…..

And it is such a relief to be looking forward to the next game, after two seasons of misery under our former manager…..I wonder how he is getting on at AFC Wimbledon?


I wrote earlier in the season about my interest in ‘proper’ football grounds. And how Archibald Leitch had played such a big part in my lifetime love of the game.

The first stand ever built to a design by Leitch was almost certainly the main stand at the new Rugby Park, Kilmarnock, in Ayrshire. The stand was opened on the day of Killie’s First Division debut, against Celtic, on August 26 1899.…..

But despite his wonderfully distinctive designs the splendour of his creations was not truly exploited until the advent of floodlit matches. Leitch died 17 years before the first floodlit Football League game was played between Portsmouth and Newcastle United on 23rd Feb 1956.

And just as modern grounds have changed. So too have the floodlights. Sadly long gone are the towering structures that filled every house in street after street with a brilliant and blinding light.

Light pollution didn’t exist in the 60’s and 70’s.

The columns to be replaced with what? In most cases a few sticks with some hooded lights. In the bigger grounds….a ring of lanterns as featureless as the ground itself.

Next time you walk down Redan Hill……stop for just a moment and experience the splendour of the Recreation Ground…..

So top of the League for a couple of days after Saturday’s win. And now onwards to Oxford.

Oxford, famous of course for it’s Universities. And Inspector Morse.

Now the interesting thing is; both Detective Chief Inspector Endeavour Morse and Tony Blair went to St John’s College.

Morse left after two years when his scholarship was withdrawn and he joined the Army.

Blair on the other hand……

Endeavour…..yes the Shots will on Saturday.

If it's match day. It's Cottage Pie day.

Now I don’t know many Americans. And I have never been further west than Land’s End.

But do Americans have a concept of reality.? I don’t think so. A simple conclusion reached through the observation of American political history.

The longest tease in modern American political history came to an end yesterday when Fred Thompson, the actor, finally announced that he was a candidate for the Republican party’s nomination in next year’s presidential election.

‘Security, Unity, Prosperity’…now is that for real or something that comes from pressing the TV remote control.

So, an interesting thought. Judge John Deed to become Lord High Chancellor of Great Britain and Secretary of State for Justice. Yes Martin Shaw and not Jack Straw, that could work.

And Chancellor of the Exchequer….’this time next year we’ll be millionaires, Tony’.

At last a target that was met.

Visiting the new Lawn on Tuesday, my shortest trip of the season, was a welcome return. Cottage Pie…it’s always Cottage Pie on match days. 'The supporters love it', I was advised with just a touch of 'and......your point is'. Perhaps. But I would go for a bit of variety….Shepherd’s Pie…or something exotic like Lasagne.

Yes, a welcome return. Made even more memorable by a performance that left all of the travelling Shots fans millionaires for the night.

Pace and movement in the first half. Supplemented with commitment and team spirit in the second. The return of Newman just before half time, a welcome sight, adding experience and strength to a vibrant midfield.

If only every 94 minutes of football could be like Tuesday night….

Northwich…..I don’t want to say, oops they were organised, defended deep, took their one chance…the defence flat and too high…no Gary has the makings of a good young manager.

He will have a plan.

Flight of flamingos

The shifting marshy area, half land and half sea, of the Rhone delta is desolate yet uniquely appealing. A wilderness full of exotic images. An area where land and sea have agreed to live in an unstable relationship.

This is the Camargue.


The beach at Saintes-Maries de la Mer empty save for the odd late evening swimmer and a few children playing football. The debris from the sun seeking masses strewn across the expansive sands awaiting the overnight clean up. The Mediterranean turning colder and darker. A deep steel blue. The sun finally giving in to the forces of nature, dipping majestically down under the horizon. Spain ….Africa….no far beyond….. as far as the imagination.

Just sitting quietly. Time to enjoy a bottle of Listel gris….chilled to an inch of it’s life. And Mussels cooked over an open fire.

Then just as the sun disappears below the distant horizon the finest of all sights.

From the west a flight of flamingos return from the Etang de Maugio ou de l’Or, just south east of Montpellier, to Camargue.

The sun’s rays burning the underside of the flamingos a brilliant red. A red beyond the intensity of any found on an artist's palette..

This ritualistic passage of birds from Montpellier to Camargue, and back, is repeated daily. The feeding grounds and overnight resting places a genetic habit. An inbuilt need as strong as football supporters getting out of bed and driving north to see their team.

Stafford Services is just one of the many feeding grounds across the UK. A stop over for Liverpool and Manchester United supporters travelling north from Tokyo and Southampton.

And Saturday was no disappointment. A service station full of Flamingos…with the odd Egret and just the one Phoenix. But no Listel gris…..


I like Altrincham. In fact for probably the only time in all the years that I have watched the Shots….I wanted the opposition to win. Yes, the occasion was the last game of the 06/07 season . And yes, I wanted Altrincham to win. We scrapped a draw and they were relegated.

But then salvation….dodgy Boston United, and we found ourselves back at Moss Lane.

The ground is one of my favourites. Compact and well cared for. New floodlights this season…well almost….to replace the ones erected during the year of England’s World Cup victory.

And the game….Aldershot in need of experience and control in midfield. Altrincham lacking in any cutting edge. Bully…his mind on other matters?…turning a comfortable 3 points into a scramble.

And no mushy peas. Grays Athletic to blame as they only purchased two portions the previous week….probably not that bad a market penetration, given the size of their away support.

Forest Green tonight…..and a visit to the new Lawn.

I liked the old one…..

Sometimes learning can be tough.

Politicians are so good at improving our lives. Oops….sorry I’ve been drinking. Politicians are so good at spending our money.

After the disappointment of Monday, and Crawley’s 1v0 win at the Recreation Ground, the last thing I wanted to read in the Times was that a £3 billion series of policies designed to boost the achievements of pre-school children has had no effect on the development of those entering primary school, a study by the University of Durham suggests. Am I surprised? Well no not really….it seemed such an insignificant sum….then Radio 4 informed me that the figure was nearer to £21 billion!

Not to worry we have another plan…..don’t we Gordon?

But my mood was lightened when I turned to page 8 and read the headline….’John Prescott will stand down as MP at the next general election’.

John Prescott the man who can lighten any room…..just by moving away from the window.

Prescott once a ship's steward and trade union activist. A man always presented as the political link to the working class in a "New" Labour party led by modernising middle class professionals.

But I must give credit to Prescott as he overcame the handicap of failing his grammar school entrance ‘Eleven Plus’ examination, to graduate from Ruskin College in Oxford with a diploma in economics and politics to be followed by a BSc in Economics and Economic History from the University of Hull. Our economic future safe….


Sometimes I forget that this is a blog about Aldershot Town FC….

Ok so we lost to Crawley..

Disappointing? No not really. We could have scored three or four. Perhaps we needed a calm and experienced head somewhere in the middle of the park. But if I can see the way forward I’m sure our manager can too…..

And at the end of the 90 minutes I looked across to Gary Waddock….I saw a young man displaying optimism and honesty.

In the dugout below me Steve Evans…..


So onwards to Altrincham and one of my favourite trips north.

Histon on a Friday night

It is always pleasant returning to Cambridge; so the opportunity to take a 24hour trip to Histon was grasped with both hands. A decision made easier by my wife’s plan to walk three sections of the Black Mountains Way with our dog Wini.

The City of Cambridge never fails to impress. Colleges that have learning stamped all over them. Green spaces that allow the pressures of work to release naturally.

And so many pubs, all offering the finest ales.

The one downside. Ex-students, trying to sell me a river trip, in a Punt. ‘No thank you’, I replied on more than one occasion. ‘I’m here on business’.

Old bookshops. I just love old bookshops. And despite Cambridge not quite matching Hay-on-Wye in this regard, it does have the odd good one tucked away from the main thoroughfares.

Not far from King’s College, founded in 1441 by Henry VI and one of the first to admit women, I came across a splendid little shop. A shop stuffed from floor to it’s oak beamed ceiling with books and ephemera. And in the corner a complete collection of Herge’s Adventures of Tintin. My memories of the 104 five-minute episodes produced from 1958 to 1962 flooded back.

Of course dedicated followers of the comic books were unhappy with the series as it often varied from the original text. In fact it often changed whole plots. In the book Explorers on the Moon, Tintin goes to the Moon for scientific exploration, but in the episodes of Objective Moon Espionage, he goes to rescue the trapped Snowy. Who would be a Tintinologist when such games are played?

As I left the book shop I paused for a moment and reflected on just some of King’s distinguished alumni…..David Baddiel. Distinguished? I went back to my car and set off for the Red Lion, Histon.

Histon FC founded in 1904, as Histon Institute, played in the Eastern Counties League from 1966 to 2000. And from the obscurity of the ECL, Histon’s rise through the Southern League and then the Conference South has been rapid.

The building of a new headquarters for the Cambridgeshire FA and new 500 seater stand will bring a better sense of scale and importance to The Glassworld Stadium, which for now looks no better than many of the grounds found at Step Three and Four.

And I guess with Razorlight headlining at the Reading Festival on the same evening, all of the portable toilets in East Anglia….well less the five in use at the Glassworld Stadium for away supporters….must have disappeared down the M11, around the M25 and along the M4 to Richfield Avenue, Reading.

Although the funny thing was….five loos and no queues.

I meet Steve Fallon, the Histon Manager, in the pub just around the corner from the ground. It was very late at night and he seemed tired and a bit drained. Steve had been a central defender in his playing days, making 410 league appearances for Cambridge United between 1974 and 1986 before sustaining an injury that cut short his career.

He seemed pleased to spend some time discussing the game without the pressure that comes from the need to convince his Directors, the Press or ‘The Stutes’ supporters.

One of the interesting points to come out of our chat was that he had read the Aldershot message board….and that he had read this blog.

Steve felt that Histon’s fitness let them down. I didn’t agree with this observation. In my view it was Histon’s lack of a quality and inability to make the most of all the second balls that they won throughout much of the 90 minutes, that was their downfall. And probably not making the most of the lack of pace down the right side of our defence was a big mistake too.

But overall we both agreed that it had been an even game with Aldershot’s obvious quality in two or three positions being the difference between the sides.

And the opening goal….I guess he will not be too pleased that his keeper was beaten from at least 35m. The wall was probably poorly aligned but the keeper saw the ball for more than 25m….Ok, it was beautifully struck. But to be beaten from 35m.....

And with that Histon is consigned to history and my thoughts turn to Crawley on Monday.

Droylsden....3 points

The nice thing about playing in the Conference….ooops the Blue Square Premier….is the exotic nature of the fixture list. Oxford, York and Cambridge are place names probably known to inhabitants of Los Angeles and Washington DC. But Histon, Farsley and Nailsworth….gosh they are exotic. And for me the endearing attraction of the Conference.

First , my apologies for the late posting of this the Droyslden account…..a new Company structure is to blame. Work. It can be so annoying and particularly when the ‘Business Plan’ now takes in Farsley, Histon and Droylsden.

Droylsden is a small town within the Tameside borough of Greater Manchester and about 4 miles from the city centre. Like great swathes of the north west the town grew up around the cotton mills established in the mid-19th century along with the Ashton Canal….sorry, and not forgetting the Forest Canals.

As for famous people….Ancient Shot will remember Peter Noone, from Herman’s Hermits and what about Davy Jones of the Monkees’ fame..

At this point I got a bit bored with my research ……but I do look forward to the return fixture and what will be my first trip to Droylsden.


Droylsden FC was founded in 1892, playing in black and amber, changing to blue and white….and then after the Great War, red and white. The ‘Bloods’ probably a recognition of the tragic loss of life during the 1914/18 War.

And two days after we beat Torquay United on Feb 17th 1973, in our first promotion season….Don Revie switched on Droylsden’s new floodlights in front of 4000 fans packed into the Butchers Arms to see the ‘Bloods’ take on Manchester City. Scorers for the Shots on the 17th, Steve Melledew and Jack Howarth, of course.

Football convention determines that teams hoping to finish in the promotion places should lose only to other top teams….over the season they will all beat each other. But never ever lose to the bottom clubs….no one loses to them. Droylsden will be a bottom 6 club this season and Aldershot delivered promotion winning form.

But steady on….too much Chablis. The second half was good….Harding was impressive….Dixon and Grant will get sharper. But the defence….have a look at the Torquay video Gary, and their big boys.

But of course the result was not just down to a change in approach after half time….no.

I took my brother to the game in my new red two seater….1v0.
We arrived at the Rec before my younger brother ….2v0.
My older brother refuses to buy a season ticket….2v1.

I bought a pie after a couple of pints in the Social,…3v1.

Football is a pretty simple game Gary.

So what can we expect at Histon. A tough game following a bloody long drive from Wales. Despite my son having been born in Bury St Edmunds….I can’t recall ever having been to Histon. I look forward to the experience.