'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……