In The Neutral Zone

With the weather providing yet another enforced break for most teams in the north of England, it was off to the artificially assisted standby of Woodley Sports for those of us desperate to see a live game of football.

Sadly it appeared that not many other people shared this enthusiasm. Even though it was the only game in the area that was going ahead it was a poor turnout on the terraces, even by Woodley’s standards. If it wasn’t for the Mossley contingent, a couple of Buxton fans who always turn up when their games called off, an assortment of other neutrals, a small band of away supporters, the match assessor and scouts from numerous league clubs filling up the seats in the stand the place would’ve been a claustrophobics idea of heaven.

Besides it being the only game within an hours drive that was actually on (although I have since discovered that Oldham Town’s home game went ahead too), the match had a couple of other draws. The first being that it was a chance to see how a now Ally Pickering-less Sport’s side would fare and secondly, it was the opportunity to see a team I’d never seen before – Harrogate Railway, the north Yorkshire town’s least popular football club; a status I assume it’s achieved through the lack of anyone with a sane mind wanting to associate themselves with the horrific red and green colour combination the side play in.

Now at this point I’d normally go on to describe the proceedings on the pitch with the odd pithy comment thrown in for good measure too but due to the lack anything truly of note happening in ninety minutes of football I can’t. If it wasn’t for the four goals I’m almost certain that my insomnia would have been cured for all time there and then.

And of those four goals it was only the first that was any quality. A metre or two off the touchline and just inside the Woodley box, Harrogate striker Graham Marchant hit a stunning shot past a bemused Higginbotham. I use the word stunning because that’s the effect it had on what crowd there was. After the majority of those present had uttered two words (the second of them being “me!”) the applause started to ring out for one of the best goals I’ve seen for some time; remarkably similar to van Basten’s famous effort against the USSR in Euro ’88. Albeit on plastic pitch in the Unibond League Chairman’s University Challenge Trophy Cup Shield and in front of a less than worldwide audience of 114.

Woodley looked to have tied things just before the break when Adam Morning’s tussle with a defender saw the ball bounce off the Harrogate players head and loop over a goalkeeper who appeared to be demonstrating what is meant by ‘no-mans land’ to any budding etymologists who happened to be in attendance.

A minute before the break Railway retook the lead with a goal that the Non-League Paper described as "disputed" but was nothing of the sort. A goalmouth scramble that could have been dealt with a number of times by the home defence ended with Scott Ryan hitting a shot towards goal that Higginbotham did well to
claw away. Unfortunately for the Woodley keeper the ball was a good foot over the line when he got his hands to it and the assistant referee quite rightly flagged for a goal. The Woodley players didn’t kick up any fuss about it so where the “dispute” comes in is anyone’s guess.

Other than the three goals there was little to get excited about but as the second half wore on you began to look back fondly on that opening period as the game became a real test of endurance for the paying spectators. If it wasn’t for the art of conversation I’m convinced that seppuku would have been the entertainment of choice for those of us stood on the terraces. A few people took to watching the grass grow which on an artificial surface is, as those previously mentioned etymologists pointed out, the very definition of optimism.

With the game and crowd almost out of its misery Woodley ignored the ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ sign and substitue Peter Wild (with his first touch) scored the scrappiest of goals in the final minute to give the game an extra half-hour of life; an act that was greeted with little joy, even from the home support. Frankly though, enough was enough. The thought of another thirty minutes of similar fare and the spectre of a penalty shoot-out was too much to bear and about as welcome as a Norfolk turkey with a bit of a cough so the decision was made to head home; a choice that a surprisingly large number of other people made as well despite the constant announcements from afew people that the tie wasn’t finished yet.

The afternoon wasn’t a complete loss though. A half-time chat with the match assessor was not only informative but a good laugh too and it was interesting to see a group of away supporters (a players relatives I think) continually disassociating themselves from a gathering of away fans at the opposite end of the stand. Not that I blame them either because if I followed Harrogate Railway I'd have been embarrassed by them as well. It was like the opposite of Life on Mars - that they'd been sent forward from the 70's to the 21st Century. Still the irony of someone who'd be easier to jump over when they were standing up rather than lying down abusing someone else for being overweight (when they they clearly weren't) never fails to amuse.

The brave souls who did stay to the bitter end though apparently got to see Woodley gain passage through to the semi-finals of the competition with a 113th minute goal by Russell Headley, but I like to think that those who got home in time to watch TV Burp and get warm were the real winners.