Would appreciate any DM about this.
So, another game in what was my adopted home for 20 years, having left the rolling green Cotswold gateway for the wonders of an under invested city, clinging to its past “glories” as they are all slowly but surely abandoned as Manchester in particular and Birmingham somewhat, suck investment in, and rural Cheshire becomes ever more the wannabe replacemen for where I’d left and where I now call home. A city where we seem to rarely do well and I’ve left Vale Park after pleading with stewards to let me out after 60 minutes of hell.
Stepping off the train in the grade II listed station that has seen millions invested in making it so much more inaccessible to the community it serves, a solo chorus of “Yelllows” attracted no interest from the clearly bored safeguarding officer lazily draped over the barrier by the disabled access point, the wan, zombie public on their way home or changing for a trendier destination nor from any lurking Naughty Forty who presumably now would be in their rickety sixties.
Walk through Stoke, past the Glebe with a look through the widows showing it was less busy than a normal
Friday night, though it’s just an hourish till kick off, past the Council offices where they are trying their best to go bankrupt but looking for a £10 million bail out from the Government to keep pursuing their aim to build a multi storey car park annually whilst doing sfa for the City, and onto Campbell Road, passing the ghost of the Victoria ground now an estate of tiny roomed new builds backing onto the noise from the A50, the near derelict pub opposite and the Billy Whizz tyres emporium.
Ahhh, Campbell Road, just off which was where I first lived here in a 2 up, 2 down with no upstairs toilet all those years ago. Apparently you could hear the cheer from the Britannia ground when Stoke scored, but I only lived there 12 months so never had the pleasure. The Chinese takeaway is gone, replaced by a chip shop serving warm,soggy, overly greasy chips that needed much more salt and vinegar to take away the taste.
Moving on, in isolation, thinking maybe I had had a massive miscalculation and arrived hours or even a day early or late the empty and desolate Plough motel loomed large, a “destination” for a game of pool and a badly kept beer so long ago, immortalised now by the name of the bus stop and the bin where my chip papers went.
Signs of life, the Michelin roundabout where it seems ok to be in the left hand lane and turn right, over the A500, the Trent tinkling in the silvery moonlight a few miles from its origin on its way to the North Sea , past the to be replaced sometime end-of-life incinerator, past the beer barge up the hill and round to the away end, where the sniffer dog declared me innocent as did two body searches and into the ground.
Obligatory pointless light show, words for a generic Stoke song (!) on the giant screens and off we go.
I won’t say much about the game itself, uninspiring and frustrating in equal measures. Second best too often, but I guess that’s normal as they must have spent 5 or 6 times as much as us in transfer fees. A goal to pop on repeat viewing as possibly the highlight of the season. Read the comments at Yellowsforum if you have some masochistic inclination.
The crowd nearly as quiet as Leicester’s were, and the quietest I have ever heard there in getting on for 30 appearances, the home ends about half full, but still not expected. A walk down to close to another previous address with delusional home fans still talking of automatic promotion and the more sensible heads talking about whether our goal was offside and if VAR should,d be a thing in league 2 -answer: no.
Home in leafy Cheshire by
10:15, sullenly quiet and feeling sorry for all you who may not get home
until tomorrow.
They say hope springs eternal, looks like we will be testing that…….