Cutting off the Main supply

Saturday 26th March - Yorkshire Main (home) Won 1-0

Sundays after an Easington win the previous day are always enjoyable, no matter what's on the agenda.  Yes, I am that shallow.

And so there was a certain spring in the step as I proceeded to hang out the previous day's team kit the morning after our 3-2 win at Phoenix.  I stopped short of putting them in numerical order but still managed to  get a front, back, front sort-of-pattern going on.  An early sign of OCD perhaps.

Then it was time for the first grass cut of the year.  Usually I find this an odious task.  And that's just retrieving the Hover from behind all the other kelt stored away in the shed for winter...not to mention the significant evidence of the presence of mice over the past few months.  But having got the machine workign again, today I positively slalomed around the various obstacles of garden swing, clothes line prop etc., whistling a merry tune as I did so.
The final part of the day's itineray was preparing Sunday lunch.  With the sun beaming down from a clear blue sky there was only one option to go with - Lemon & Herb chicken served with Mediterranean veg and roasties.  I cooked this to the accompaniment of the Hurts album.  Ah, life's good sometimes.
BBC Radio 5 Live covered the RL Challenge Cup draw live that afternoon.  I missed it but caught news of Rovers' away tie at York City Knights via Twitter.  Given the current on-field problems, they'll take that.
Sunday evenings are now reserved for Holderness-based Hull City fan Matthew Rudd's 80s show on Q Radio and tonight's selection was again top drawer, setting me up nicely for "Waking The Dead" whose villainous character, The Bag Man, was of the type that could have come straight off an album by The Meteors - one of the bands I followed during the Thatcher years.  Forerunners of the so-called Psychobilly movement, their songs  tended not to stray far from all things macabre.  If only their nearest thing to "commercialism", their 1983 cover of John Leyton's "Johnny Remember Me"  (UK Indie No.2) had actually managed to pierce the Top 40 (it reached No.66), Mr Rudd may well have been treating me to this of a Sunday evening.

Not "The Bag Man" but a "big man" all the same

Monday and another week of continuing uncertainty about the future at work was offset by the prospect of the Annual Staff Bash on Friday at The Village Hotel.  A free bar and subsidised room meant a welcome mini-break for Mrs Slush and me.  Something to look forward to.
In the meantime I had the prospect of four cracking looking quarter-finals in the Cricket World Cup to help pass the days, with the Australia-India clash looking a particularly tasty one.
I finished the day with our latest Development Group meeting.  Held at The Haven Arms, it was expected to be a slightly tense affair with more fallout from a weekend of player shortages at Reserves and Casuals level high on the agenda.

Surprisingly, however, it turned into a very constructive and productive evening (aided by a pint of Tom Wood's Best and half a Tring Side Pocket For A Toad) and again restored my belief that the future of The Eastenders is in good hands.

In amongst the topics discussed were the usual ones of coaching courses, sponsorship and future fundraising events in addition to the obvious team matters.  As part of the talks about sponsored events, a walk similar to the "Million Metre Meander" of 2009 proved the preferred choice - despite the "toll" it took on us last time.  The exact route is still to be determined but another stretch of The Wolds Way looks the favourite.

Tuesday started with a bang, or rather a scratch, as the Elder Slushette and her younger sister had a disagreement over a notepad which ended in painful fashion for Junior.  She was still crying as I left for work and the situation proved serious enough for Mrs Slush to fix up an appointment at the local surgery.  Sure enough, she'd scratched her eyeball and a course of drops was prescribed; the first of which brought howls akin to a torture chamber when we tried administering them later that day.  It was like a domino effect - the Younger Slushette screaming at the prospect of the drops, her older sister screaming at her sibling's discomfort and Mum coming out in sympathy.  I had it all on to maintain a stiff upper I can tell you.

That same day had seen an astonishing West Indies batting collapse gift Pakistan a place in the last four of the Cricket World Cup.  Oh, and George Osborne's much-anticipated Budget.  I really don't know why I listen to these supposedly "defining" moments in Parliamentary history, as I always find myself wondering for hours/days/weeks/months afterwards what the hell it means to me.  Traditionally, I've just about worked it out by the time the next one comes round.

More important than the Budget of course was that night's meeting of CML Premier Division leaders South Normanton and title favourites Yorkshire Main under the Lees Lane lights.  I followed events by virtue of @BeatTheFirstMan's Twitter updates and it sounded a belter - Main leading 2-0, then trailing 3-2 before eventually running out 5-3 winners.  I hoped it had taken plenty out of them ahead of their weekend trip to the coast.

I spent much of Thursday (programme printing day in this shortened week) in the company of "Sir" Geoffrey Boycott and Alison Mitchell along with the rest of the 5 Live Sports Extra crew bringing commentary from a raucous Ahmedabad on the Aussies' match-up with the hosts.

As a fan of the "greatest living Yorkshireman" (I was brought up being told regularly at the dinner table: "Love Geoff Boycott and eat your greens") it's always a touch nerve-wracking listening to Boycs when he's in the company of female journos.  It often reminds me of Harry Enfield's George Whitebread character.  Some of his morning exchanges with 5 Live's Sheila Fogarty have almost bordered on Keys & Gray in their tone.  

"I say what I like and I like what I bloody well say"

Indeed, only that morning his response to news of Michael Yardy's decision to fly home from the sub-continent due to depression had already sparked several calls to the BBC and would provoke a blast from England captain Andrew Strauss.  I don't know why.  As one fellow Tweeter (the estimable @JR_Tiger) later paraphrased them: "Long story short: Boycs never suffered with depression because he was a good player and Yardy isn't."  Truth hurts?!

Thankfully, Geoffrey's subsequent performance in the commentary box was almost gaffe-free, although when he told Mitchell, "I could watch a few of my centuries..." one could almost sense her relief that he didn't then offer to talk her through them!

In the event India progressed with victory in a cracking match that was followed a few days later by Ricky Ponting's resignation as Australia captain.  The end of an era.

Friday began with the Younger Slushette's return visit to hospital where she was told her eye had healed up sufficiently to require no further treatment.  And so she was quickly softened up with a sausage sarnie at the fantastic Amy's Tea Shop in Patrington before being dropped off at her Gran's in time to allow Mrs Slush and I to make full use of our child-free pass.

In Amy's I exchanged a few observations on life with Derek Spruce, one-time goalkeeper and stalwart of Patrington Cricket Club, the 2010 East Yorkshire Premier Diviiosn champions.  Derek - whose son Steve is a former Easington keeper and current "top" local referee (in case he's reading this!) - is always good for a line or two.  Sitting almost as if holding court at a table facing towards the door allowed him to greet every new face in this busy little cafe.  "Ey up, bloody foreigners coming in now" he exclaimed as a party of four "Wezzies" came through the door ("Wezzies" being the term reserved from the numerous inhabitants of the West Riding who have decided to make the east coast their home.  Another is "Comforts" - from the saying, "Come for t'week, never went back").  "Is thoo lost?" he asked.  They smiled politely.

The perfect place for a pick-me-up...whereve you're from

After a detour to upgrade my mobile phone, we were at The Village for mid-afternoon and able to have decent use of the pool, sauna and steam room until it was time for the night's festivities.

Despite some awful mock-Swedish accents undermining what was otherwise a proficient Abba tribute act, the works bash was a cracking "do".  It was made complete for me when the DJ, who only a few weeks earlier had failed to produce Johnny Bristol's Hang On In There Baby for the so-called "70s & 80s Boogie Night", did just that this time around.  Pure quality.  Unfortunately, the sight - and smell - of some woman throwing up the full contents of her three-course meal and free bar excesses over a nearby table ensured Mrs Slush was as far away as possible instead of accompanying me to the floor.  No matter. I was "really dancing". 

And so once again to match day.  I drove home mid-Saturday morning (remarkably hangover-free) to the accompaniment of a slow but seemingly steady England batting performance against Sri Lanka in the last of the quarter-finals.  Little did I know what was to follow.

The Slushettes rounded-up from their various overnight stop-overs and all things sorted at home, I arrived at Low Farm to be greeted by a gentleman who immediately enquired of me as to the kick-off time.  When I told him three o'clock his face dropped.  He then let me know in no uncertain terms that he'd been misled that morning when phoning "a member of the club" who'd assured him the kick-off time was an hour earlier.  Oh dear.  Time for one of Judy's famous cuppa's to alleviate the situation I thought.  (It obviously worked - the gentleman being Leo Hoenig and this is his account of his day by the seaside).

A splash of colour at The Farm

Yorkshire Main arrived at the Farm well-placed for a tilt at the title but with a serious fixture backlog building up thanks to continuing interest in four competitions.  Althugh 19pts behind leaders South Normanton, the Edlington side have nine games in hand.  In addition they were due to appear in the final of the Floodlit Cup the following Wednesday and were also through to the quarter-finals of the Doncaster FA Cup and last four of the CML Challenge Cup.  Beat that Man Utd!

Before kick-off I enjoyed a catch-up with Main's young chairman, Matthew Wynne.  He readily acknowledged the fact that to maintain such high standards would be difficult as the games piled up.  

That said, the visitors don't half boast some firepower to help see them through. Their five goals at Lees Lane had taken their league tally to 72 in 14 games (110 in all competitions); with Curtis Walker (30), Darren Bird (15) and Adam Watson (15) netting over half of them between them.  

So the scene was set for the type of Easington performance I've witnessed so many times over the past two decades - the backs-to-the-wall effort in which at times sheer bloody-mindedness sees you through.  Mike Wilson's team of the Nineties almost patented them.

Unfortunately a bitterly cold wind - allied to other televised attractions such as the Wales v England Euro 2012 Qualifier in Cardiff - kept the crowd down well below the hoped-for figure.  Those who missed out missed a cracker.

 

Oh flippin' eck!

Knowing that chances could be at a premium, it was therefore felt to be a possible defining moment when Blounty failed to convert Gav's early set-piece. 

Thankfully it wasn't to prove so.  Moments later neat approach play down the left, a touch of the old Gavin magic completely bamboozled full-back Tunney and from his left foot cross, Frosty arrived to head powerfully home.  13 minutes gone and we led 1-0.  

Before too long both Watson and Walker had had chances to reply; Watson being particularly unlucky to see his firecely struck volley come back off the bar.

But in the main (no pun intended) we coped well.  This was the team playing as Mack expected them to play every week.  But don't.

A Main man fouls the main man

The second half started with the visitors - resplendent in an all-orange strip of the sort worn by ourselves in the mid-1970s - passing up a great chance when Ryan Evans fired into the side netting with keeper Charlie for once helpless.  Would our luck be in today?

As time wore on we increasingly looked capable of adding a second on the counter.  And following Tunney's cynical foul on Frosty we very nearly did; the Skipper just not getting to Mozzer's driven free-kick.

You didn't really want to get your head on that!

As the minutes ticked by, the visitors' attemtps became more desperate.  Tunney's late header looped onto the bar.  We were living dangerously.  Referee Dexter found seven minutes' stoppage time from somewhere.  It wasn't to matter.  Main's supply had been well and truly cut off.  A sharp Frost had seen to that!

Action Photos courtesy of Burt Graham & Colin Brammer

Hanging on

Saturday 19th March - Phoenix FC (away) Won 3-2

It was the morning after the afternoon and evening before.  Last night's Chef's Special was beginning to find its way through every pore as I enjoyed a brisk walk to work at the nearby BP North Sea Gas Terminal on Dimlington Road.  The site has been my place of employment for over 20 years.  However, following a couple of recent announcements, it may not be for very much longer.

For the workforce have recently been informed that Dimlington is up for sale following BP's decision to try and offload several of its North Sea assets.

No sooner was I coming to terms with this news and all its possible implications, than I was informed that the company which actually employs me as part of its service contract on the site, is set to walk away from its current contract.

A sort of "double whammy" if you like.

Thinking rationally the second piece of news shouldn't have too big a bearing. Current TUPE regulations mean that more likely than not when the time comes, I'll move across to the new body responsible for Plant Inspection. I've done it before, it's just another pension to add to my growing pot of, well, pretty worthless pensions.

BP's sale is slightly more worrying, although again the hope is that any new buyer would be very keen to keep the current workforce in place. But, more importantly, will they be willing to continue sponsoring the match programme?!

This month's 'Must Read'

A bit of Radio 4 in a morning can soon put some perspective on thngs.  And as I listened to Toby Harnden talking about the Ministry of Defence's attempts to completely overhaul his excellent book, Dead Men Risen ("The Welsh Guards & The Real Story of Britain's War In Afghanistan") I was again reminded that a little bit of inconvenience on the job front isn't really something to get too hung up about.

If this Today feature had me feeling almost grubby to be British, a quick flick to Radio 2 soon lifted the spirits.  Chris Evans' Gobsmackers double was a positively Modtastic one of The Just Brothers "Sliced Tomatoes" and "Green Onions" by Booker T & The MG's.  Hip or what.

Also encouraging a smile this particular Monday morning was the news that Coventry City had parted company with Aidy Boothroyd following the Tigers' weekend win at The Ricoh.  Another City-precipitated sacking.

Up until fairly recently I could always rely on Coronation Street as another surefire way of brightening any pervading sombre mood.  But, unfortunately since the Tram storyline, that is no longer the case.  As Matt Rudd pointed out in his excellent blog post, Corrie is rapidly in need of a rethink.  I may even be tempted to stop watching.  Perhaps.

The aforementioned Mr Rudd is presenter of the Q The 80s show, which has become a must listen for me on Sunday nights.  And I was reminded of his former "Guilty Pleasure" feature on the show on Tuesday when Chris Evans belted out Roman Holiday's "Don't Try To Stop It".
It was title more apt for the England cricket team's rollercoaster World Cup campaign on the Indian sub-continent, the latest instalment of which saw them involved in a must-win game against the Windies.

"We're not going home, we're not going home...yet!"

Thankfully, in another absorbing contest, a late flurry of wickets saw Strauss's team home by 18 runs and probably into the quarter-finals.  Phew!

On Wednesday I received a lovely surprise, courtesy of my receipt of a "Top Nomination" in the "Services To Sport" category in the annual East Riding of Yorkshire Council Sport & Play Recognition Awards.  As such, Mrs Slush and I will be attending the Spa in Brid in early May where the actual winner will be announced.  I haven't prepared a speech.

A mark of quality

Thursday saw me at another meeting, this time in my capacity as member of the East Riding County League Management Committee.  I've been on the Committee some 15 years now, since the late Dave Simmons (then Secretary) put my name forward with the following ringing endorsement: "We're always on the lookout for opinionated bastards who've got plenty to say for themselves!"  Quite.

I've seen a few come and go in my time with the League Committee.  When I first joined we used to meet at the old YPI building on George Street in Hull city centre.  Since then I've attended meetings at Ideal Standard, the Hull & ER Sports Club on Chants Ave and, for the past two years, in the new ERCFA HQ at the Roy West Centre on Inglemire Lane.

Along the way I've made friends with some real characters of the grassroots game.  Their views may sometimes seem outspoken and somewhat non-PC (although the recent election of new Press Officer Melissa has curbed this slightly) but at the heart of what they do is the future good of football at a local level. 

It's a monthly jaunt I always enjoy and even more so when the companion to my return drive is the debut Hurts album, 'Happiness'.  Quality.

 The pilot & navigator

Friday brought with it Red Nose Day 2011 and the Slushettes got into the spirit by dressing up in silly costumes for school.  During the afternoon, a logistics problem meant I was forced to board a service bus from Withernsea to Easington, something I'd not done for a long time.  Sitting there was a great way of discovering that the famous "East End humour" is alive and well.

"Sit doon Dick, thoo duzzn't git a rebate fer standing"

Or this little exchange...

"No, ah asn't seen 'im for yonks"

"Oh well...praps he's deeyud then!"

It was almost worth the £2.70 single fare.  But not quite.

Later in the day Hull KR also entered the spirit with a comedy of errors at Salford.  Coach Justin Morgan's reaction to the performance was to impose an immediate media blackout.  Oh I do hope he's not turning into rugby league's Fergie.

Things drew to a close with a first ever Northern Soul & Motown all-nighter, broadcast across the BBC's local stations in the North of England and featuring - as you'd expect - a whole host of absolute corkers.

I eventually pulled the plug some three hours in.  Among the classics that had particularly struck a chord were Lynne Randell's "Stranger In My Arms", The Carstairs "It Really Hurt sMe Girl", Judy Street "What" and the unbeatable "Because of You" by Jackie Wilson.  In among the Northern belters, host Steve White also managed to squeeze in Modern classic "Pressure" by Driza Bone.  I went to bed a happy man.

A sight to gladden the eyes

I woke up even happier.  The Hucknall defeat was by now a mere blip, the bitterness of its manner consigned to memory.  For today would find me heading to Brinsworth, near Rotherham.  Our opponents were Phoenix but more importantly, the post-match hospitality venue was The Phoenix Sports & Social Club, a purveyor of several fine cask ales.  The sun was shining, it was possibly the warmest day of the year so far and I was getting giddy...

Of course Pistol Pete always does his best to knock any such feelings out of you - first by turning up "fashionably" late (albeit by only 5 minutes today) and secondly by then attempting to kill everybody en route courtesy of some erratic driving!
For once we were not fully laden.  Shotgun Burt had prior arrangements, while assistant-boss Ian was catching up at work following two weeks' paternity leave in celebration of his daughter's safe arrival into this world.

Another mark of quality

On arrival at the Pavilion Lane ground there was only one thing I really wanted to see and there it was, within seconds of stepping out of the bus...the Cask Marque sign.  I just knew we were in for a good day.
Our hosts have been similar to us inasmuch as they're not up challenging for honours where most believed they would be.  Their home record is particularly woeful - one win and one draw in eight games prior to this.  I hate being confronted by records like that when we're the next team in town.
Manager Daz Newsom is very open and approachable and I couldn't help but feel empathy when he detailed the factors that have combined to undermine any hopes of success he held for the current campaign.
The manager's affability was replicated by other members of the home committee and as I stood there on a glorious spring afternoon, coffee in hand, looking out on the joys that awaited me later (er, the pitch not the pub before you start) I thought there can't be many better ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.
I could have reconsidered just two minutes in when another piece of calamity defending, involving Blounty and Charlie, led to the conceding of a penalty from which skipper Liam O'Brien gave the hosts the lead.  Surely it wasn't going to be one of those afternoons...

Thankfully no it wasn't.  Within another eight minutes we'd gone 2-1 up.  First Kempy's deep corner found the Skipper lurking at the far post and his turn back was converted by Mozzer.
Moments later Frosty's diagonal ball enticed goalkeeper Matt Handiside into no-man's land, allowing Man Mountain to dink the ball over him and follow-up to place in the empty net.
We should really have gone on to kill the home side off by half-time.  But somehow we couldn't convert a host of decent opportunities - much to the amusement of watching Kiveton Park manager Wayne Burgin whose side were without a fixture and who were set to face Phoenix in the first Bonanza game the following week.
I opted for the Tea Hut at half-time and spent the fifteen minutes in the company of the manager's dad, who again regaled me with various tales of players who had displayed an awful lack of commitment to the cause.  Just by looking at him I could tell he was desperate to echo the words of the late, great Freddie Trueman - "It wor diff'rent i'mah day!"  He didn't.  But it was.
When Man Mountain swept home the Skipper's chest down for 3-1 the points looked assured.  We were controlling the tempo of the game and despite a bare, hard surface, we were playing some decent football.
But with twenty to go we committed our usual sin of conceding a goal out of nothing.  Farny's needless foul, poor marking at the free-kick and Steve Spence had brought Phoenix back into things.
Thankfully it didn't pre-empt another late giveaway (as had happened in the previous three away games) and when the referee blew for time we had three very well deserved points safely tucked away.
And so the main event, sorry, the post-match hospitality which, for me, consisted of a pint of Robinson's Hannibal's Nectar, a Black Sheep Ruddy Ram, some decent fodder and a good chinwag with a Sheff Wed fan in there to watch his side lose to Southampton in the televised tea-time kick-off.  I like days like this.



And it was all...for this?

By 6pm we were on our way home and just over two and a bit hours later I was putting the first load of kit into the washer.  Our regular laundry lady was on a well-earned break, meaning several of us had opted to take a turn with the kits.  I allowed myself a wry smile when thinking this is what Saturday nights have come to - washing a full team's football strip while those who had previously worn it were trawling the bars of Hull like wannabe George Bests.  I wouldn't swap places with 'em...honest!

Big Willie's Birthday Treat

Sunday 13th March - Hull KR 40 Crusaders RL 22

Big Willie's...

Despite the disappointment,  I was determined not to let the Hucknall defeat spoil my weekend and was helped to this end by Sunday being my birthday; my 45th to be precise.  I know, I know, I don't look it...

Of course, in the weeks prior to the event, Mrs Slush had asked, "What do you want to do for your birthday?" only to then ignore my answer, which had been, "I'd like us all to go to Rovers".

It was only when I'd trotted this reply out some five or six times that it dawned on her that an early season jaunt down Preston Road really was my choice of "treat" (well, actually, it was a Real Ale trail around Hull's old town as performed on my 40th but this had even less chance of success).  Therefore we agreed a compromise.  We WOULD have a family day out in Hull - but while the Elder Slushette came with me to the match, her younger sister would accompany her mum round the shops.  There, everyone's happy.  And to cap things off we arranged a family tea at the Ottringham Tandoori.  Hmm, things were shaping up nicely.

Even more so when just a day  after booking our tickets for the game against Welsh side Crusaders, Rovers broke the news everyone in east Hull had been waiting for - Willie Mason was finally here.

...gonna getcha!

After six months of protracted problems with passports, visas, work permits and everything else red tape-wise that only seems to affect rugby league players, the big man was finally arriving in the UK.  And he would make his debut against the Crusaders.

So, Sunday 13th March 2011 would be my 45th birthday AND "Big Willie Day" .  Mrs Slush was only too happy to tell people that the two events were in no way connected.
Now for those of you still in the dark about this odd-shaped ball game and, in particular the part Hull Kingston Rovers play in people's lives round this neck of the woods, you might wish to watch this or perhaps this.  Those whose only connection with the sport comes via BBC's Challenge Cup coverage may well remember this;  subscribers to the Murdoch empire may be more familiar with this.  All give a hint as to why, despite the mockery, "Hull Kingston Rovers" IS a name known worldwide.  
I've explained my somewhat chequered association with the club (and the game of rugby league) in a previous blog.  Suffice to say, it's 22 years since I first stood in the East Stand at the "New" Craven Park, along with many other first-timers as Rovers began life in the old Second Division with victory over Trafford Borough in front of a capacity 8,500 crowd.  A lot of water has flowed under the bridges of the River Hull since then.  Both for me and Rovers.

This was to be the Elder Slushette's first taste of matchday in what she terms, "the part where all the noise comes from" and she appeared somewhat apprehensive as we approached the turnstile; though, surpringly, not because she feared that her lack of inches may prevent her from seeing much action but because she feared she wouldn't get close enough to Rufus to catch the sweets!

It was rarely this full "in my day"

It was strange standing towards the back of the recently extended popular side for the first time since Rovers had rejoined the game's top-flight.  I'd last been in there for the win over Leigh during the 2006 promotion season.  Needless to say, it wasn't as full as today.

Indeed, apart from the aforementioned Trafford game, I can rarely recollect a time when the East Stand was "bursting at the seams" as is regularly the case now.  Not that it wasn't often a pretty raucous place.  With no segregation back then, you could enjoy eighty minutes of fairly lively banter whenever away teams brought anything approaching a decent following.  I seem to recall Wigan and Leeds fans (Loiners not Whinos back then) were the easiest to wind up.  But it rarely turned into anything more sinister...unless Featherstone were in town!
The derby games were obviously the biggest occasions and one of the most enduring memories of my time as an East Stand regular comes from the virtual sea of orange-wrapped fudge bars that were sent raining down towards a certain Hull FC winger the first time he received the ball on the near touchline.  I'll leave you to guess who I'm referring to...and the possible reasons as to the choice of missile.

Blake minus his Seven

Back in those days, Sundays consisted of a game for Longhill-based outfit Holderness Casuals FC (the name derived from the Borough from which the team originated) in the muck or nettles world of Hull Sunday League football, followed by a pub lunch and on to the rugby.  We had our usual spot - towards the back, just south of the halfway line - and would be joined by the same familiar faces each week, many of whom also shared similar interests in music and clubbing, meaning we'd often have bumped into them around town the night before.  Some would also have been to City with me the previous day.  It made for a great weekend.  Indeed, they were great days - for me if not for Rovers!

Of course time waits for no-one.  Circumstances - and priorities - change and Rovers duly took a back seat in my weekend planning.  I wasn't alone.  Indeed I'm not sure I know of more than one hardy soul from among the group referred to who has remained true to the cause over the intervening years; dutifully turning up week-in, week-out even when the Club had slipped into the third tier of the game and the fare on offer was undeniably awful.

And so when the Robins returned to the "big time"  our friends across the river  couldn't wait to mock the "bandwagon jumpers" suddenly filing through the Craven Park turnstiles.  People like me I suppose.  But, similar to City's recent rise to the Premier League, I  welcome the advent of decent crowds as a reflection of the club's success.  I also like to think that those trips to Altrincham, Trafford, Whitehaven and Runcorn count for something when the good times eventually returned.  (At this point it's also probably worth reminding any smug readers of a black & white persuasion of the lift in attendances suddenly experienced by their club when moving from the Boulevard to the KC).

What, no Willie?

Similarly, having seen some fairly dire stuff during those days of regular Rovers returning gives one a level of perspective and means I can't get too hung up on the so-called "crisis" the Robins currently find themselves in on the field.  
Since battering local rivals Hull on the opening weekend of the season, Rovers' fortunes had taken a turn for the worse.  A narrow defeat at highly-fancied Warrington had been followed by much less inspiring performances against Catalans and Castleford.  In addition, main playmaker Michael Dobson and skipper Mick Vella were both sidelined by injury, while prop Joel Clinton was rumoured to be out of favour and/or wanting away.  

In the days leading up to the game, the mood had been further darkened by news that Dobson - out for "8 to 12 weeks" - had been "de-registered" by Rovers in order to allow Mason to play, following further visa complications.  This in turn had fuelled all sorts of speculation about a possible move to St Helens for the Robins' talisman.  The natives of East Hull were becoming restless.

And so before kick-off the crowd were treated to an interview, recorded with chairman Neil Hudgell a few minutes earlier, in which he quashed any such rumours and attacked those who wished to stir up trouble.  It was one way of getting the crowd "up" for the game I suppose.

The Dobbo fears suitable allayed (ahem) attention now turned to the main man who arrived to a fantastic reception and for the opening 23 minutes offered some exciting glimpses of what he can bring to Hull KR.

And his team mates responded, running in four early tries to lead 24-6 at the break.  Rovers were equally clinical afterwards, although a worryingly familiar  lax period allowed the Welsh side to make things perhaps closer than they should have been.

Ah Thangyyyoooouuuu

Despite being less influential in his second stint, Big Willie - unsurprisingly - had done enough to be announced as the sponsors' Man of the Match. And aside from touching down himself, the day couldn't have gone much better for the debutant, a fact he acknowledged afterwards. Whether it also signals a significant upturn in Rovers' fortunes remains to be seen (with a nasty looking injury to Clint Newton suggesting even more reliance on the new arrival in the coming weeks).
As for the Elder Slushette, she enjoyed the experience in spite of having to watch the whole eighty minutes while perched precariously on a fold-away footstool kindly lent her by Cameron, son of our First Team manager.  So, is this where she wants to be when we come again?  "Hmm, can we go back in the seats Dad?"  Yeah, I suppose so, any particular reason?  "I got a bit tired standing up all that time."  Cuh, the kids of today.

(PS: Tea at the Ottringham Tandoori (@The White Horse, Main St) comes highly recommended!)        

Mountain high

Saturday 12th March - AFC Hucknall (home) Lost 3-4

Reserves manager Kevin Appleyard set off for a well-deserved family break at Center Parcs shortly after the Forum debacle, allowing him to cool down and me to do some digging as to whether there was now a serious rift in our ranks.

After a Monday spent talking to as many of the central characters as I could, plus liaising with both the Club Chairman and Vice-Chair, I arranged a Development Group Meeting for the following week.  We may have to get through the forthcoming weekend on a wing and a prayer but at least something was now set in place to get round the table and resolve certain matters.

That sorted, I now had the prospect of City v Burnley on Tuesday to provide a welcome, albeit brief, distraction.  Hmm, there's a saying "you should never go back" in football and, as described previously, my return to the East Stand served only to reinforce it!

This may constitute sexual assault in some parts?

Checking the late night Twitter traffic on my return home from the KC, one result in particular caught my eye.  This being Bridlington Town's 5-0 thrashing of local rivals (& ground tenants) Scarborough Athletic in the NCEL Premier Division.  Wow!
I have a lot of time for 'The Seasiders', born mainly out of some tremendous past encounters with them, including a particularly memorable East Riding County FA Senior Cup semi-final at Dene Park back in 2002.  Town eventually beat us 2-1 in "Golden Goal" extra-time but only after we'd taken the lead, played almost half the game with ten men and kept them out almost entirely thanks to what local author Craig Ellyard described in his Now Then! book (on East Yorkshire football) as "the sort of game which only ever happens in the more far fetched comic books" from "incredible" goalkeeper...one Kevin Appleyard!

On a personal front my current links with Brid also extend to regular communication with Town's website/programme guru Dom Taylor (whose roots are down the old East End of Holderness) and Club Chairman (indeed "Saviour") Pete Smurthwaite, with who I share membership of the ER County League Management Committee and whose regular guest presenter appearances on BBC Radio Humberside's nightly Sports Talk programme are always worth a listen.

The Seasiders won the Premier Division title last term but declined promotion on financial grounds.  The win over 'Boro left them handily placed to challenge for the championship again.  I for one hope they can do it.

Colin (above) & Burt (below) catch this better than Chaz

 

As we approached the weekend - and my 45th birthday - my optimism about things was returning.

Jeremy Vine was playing "The Closest Thing To Heaven" by The Kane Gang  on the radio, the sun was shining and I had the first instalment of Andrew Davies' new adaptation of South Riding to catch up on from the weekend.

This latest version of Winifred Holtby's classic story was filmed on location in various areas not too far from home, in particular Sunk Island.  And although panned by some critics, I found it extremely watchable - and not only because I'd been tipped off to look out for former Hull City fanzine-meister and current Eastenders programme designer Andy Medcalf's younger brother popping up as an extra!

I was even more delighted to find the 1974 ITV version is now available on DVD.  This, if I recall correctly, was filmed even closer to home with the shacks that ran adjacent to the Withernsea-Holmpton road near the Hollym turn-off playing a prominent part.  I'll put it on my "Wish For" list...
Eve-of-match day brought with it the usual late panic over numbers, with returning Reserves boss Kev stating he'd just about cobbled enough men together to face Park Athletic on the 3G at South Hunsley without having to dip into Maccer's Casuals ranks as they looked to continue their promotion push at nearby Withernsea.

I passed the day listening to yet another Cricket World Cup match involving "The Entertainers" - or England as they're officially known.  The latest instalment of their topsy-turvy campaign saw them snatch defeat from the jaws of victory against Bangladesh.  They had now lost to two of the supposed minnows in the competition, survived a scare against Holland, beaten the choking Safas and tied against favourites India.  A win over West Indies would now be required next week if they were to have any hope of reaching the quarter-finals.

AFC Hucknall were the visitors to Low Farm on a match day that dawned quite bright.  I know because I was up and into work early to copy off that day's match programme.
Our visitors have somewhat gone off the boil following a blistering start to life in the CML.  Given the history of "Reserve" teams in the Humber Premier League this is perhaps not so surprising.  Players not getting a sniff of first team action decide to head off elsewhere and the "Reserves" (my use of speech marks intentional due to our opponents' name not actually immediately identifying them as the second-string of Evo-Stik League outfit Hucknall Town) suffer as a consequence.
A post-match conversation with Hucknall boss Danny Pheasant pretty much endorsed this view.  His team sheet for the game bore just one name from the team we'd beaten so memorably at Watnall Road back in August.  Several players had been promoted to a struggling first eleven, while many others had opted for other locally based semi-pro clubs.  Mind you, on this evidence, the Nottinghamshire side are building themselves another handy looking squad.

Lest we forget

The afternoon didn't begin too well when Hucknall arrived in their first choice colours of yellow and black; this despite my confirmation earlier in the week that they would come in all-white, cuh!  Thankfully, Chairman (& "Jack of all trades") Doug was on hand to race away from his primary task of fixing the referee's shower to pick up our second choice away strip.  And so the game could begin...though not before we'd observed a minute's silence in memory of one-time club record goalscorer Melvin Douglas and fellow former player Mike "Raggy" Hudson.  Both were definite "characters" during their time with the Club and both departed this earth at a tragically young age, on 9th March 1991 and 3rd March 1997, respectively.  We try to ensure they're never forgotten (a task enhanced by the Memorial Benches to both players now in situ at Low Farm)  and the twentieth anniversary of Melv's departure, in particular, demanded to be marked.
Unfortunately, most of our lads were seemingly still observing the silence when Charlie was forced into a blinding save inside the opening minute.  It set the tone for another sluggish start, similar to that made in recent home games against Bentley and Kiveton.  And as with the first of those, we were punished for it.
As someone who tried - and usually failed - to combine Friday night drinking with playing football the following afternoon, I have some sympathy for those among the current ranks who seem unable to defy temptation at the end of a working week.
However, for some - like right back Brett - this game cruelly exposed the error of his ways.  A product of the Under 15/16 team, from which several of our current senior squad have emerged, Brett has done really well since first forcing his way into the First Eleven.  Indeed, against Kiveton he'd been little short of immense in parts.  Today, however, he would have a shocker.
His wayward defensive header set up Hucknall's Zach Bartlett for the first of the Hucknall striker's hat-trick on 22 minutes.  Then poor marking at the front stick allowed a corner to be flicked on for Bartlett to convert his second just three minutes later.  And had Matt Wiklo's volley moments later being slightly better placed, the game would have been lost before the half-hour mark.
"Brettles" wasn't alone in having a nightmare first half.  As a team, defensively we were all over the place.  AG and Blounty were doing their best "Chuckle Brothers" routine in the middle, while Wiklo was giving Kempy and Bezza all sorts of problems down our left.

Mountain shoots...

...Mountain scores

Then, with half-time a few minutes away and most of the 48-strong crowd perhaps releived that we were only two down, out of the blue (literally!) we scored.  Blounty's pass finding Man Mountain who finished expertly.
A minute later Hucknall keeper Jack Harvey had to move smartly to preserve his team's lead into the break.  Second best for 40 minutes and we could still have come off at two apiece.  Football, eh, it's a funny old game.
Unfortunately, a repeat of our sluggish start in the second half quickly allowed Bartlett to complete his hat-trick and Hucknall to restore their two-goal cushion.  We were in dire need of some inspiration.
It came on the hour mark with the double-introduction of Frosty and Farny.  Suddenly there was a spring in the step and some bite in the challenge.

 

 

Up and over for Mountain's second

On 68mins Bezza released Man Mountain who again finished like a 20-goal striker.  2-3, game back on.

And ten minutes from time the escape looked complete when an excellent move down the right saw Frosty cross for Man Mountain to complete a stunning treble of his own.  3-3, and marked by a contender for "Goal Celebration of the Day"!

Three peaks!

We would now surely go on and win it.  Hucknall heads were down, we were on the front foot.  But, no, Bezza got caught in possession left side of midfield, a quick counter-attack, cross to the far post and Hucknall new boy Theo Ganderson planted a thumping header into the top corner.  No chance for Charlie.  And no more hope for us.  The final five minutes would see the visitors come closer to netting a fifth than we would to levelling again.
There's little consolation to be gleaned from defeats like this but en route to the Granby I tried to take what I could from the manner of our second half fightback.  But that only left me even more frustrated about our first half performance.  Indeed, the erratic nature of the overall display probably summed up our current season perfectly.

Saturday night's web updates were performed with less enthusiasm than usual - despite the positive reaction to the celebration pic and some accompanying audio quality from latest coolsters Frankie & The Heartstrings and fellow beat combo The Courteeners - but at least I had one thing to console myself with as I headed off up to bed; tomorrow was my birthday.  What's more, it was also "Big Willie Day"...

NOTE: Within hours of first appearing, the photograph at the top of this piece, showing Frosty lying on his back to illustrate the "quality of the balls I keep deliverin' to Owen" (get it?), had been distributed to nearly 1,500 people.  Ah, the powers of Twitter! 

Photos courtesy of Colin Brammer & Burt Graham
 

A defining moment...or two?

Saturday 5th March - Kiveton Park (home) Won 3-0
Tuesday 8th March - Hull City 0 Burnley 1

I should have been cock-a-hoop as I first prepared this post (some weeks ago now!).  On the Saturday  - three days prior  to beginning bashing the keyboard - we had chalked up our first league win since October (which also came against "Kivo") and moved up to seventh in the Premier Division table.  
In addition, the following Tuesday I was to revisit the East Stand at the KC Stadium for the first time since the "pre-Championship-on-the-way-up" days, where a Hull City side fresh from ending Nottingham Forest's 36-match unbeaten run at home were set to entertain in-form Burnley in one of the night's most attractive looking fixtures. 

Catch of the Day

Unfortunately, however, my mood had been tempered somewhat by events that despite my not witnessing them first hand and which, strictly speaking, were out of my control I still felt in some way responsible for.  
For the first time that I could ever remember, an Easington United team (in this case the Reserves) had conceded the points from a league game AFTER actually setting off.  Their ER County League Premier Division fixture at Bridlington side Forum FC was conceded within two hours of kick-off, much to the understandable frustration of the the hosts and with possible financial repurcussions for ourselves.

Brett entertains a packed North Stand

In truth it's a scenario that has been on the cards for some time.  The Stiffs have endured a torrid time of late, not just in terms of results but having suffered more than most at the hands of the weather and seeing manager Kev ruled out of action and removed from the frontline with a broken leg sustained during one of his all-too-rare appearances at North Cave back in November.
It's a combination that has since led to a lack of bodies on match days.   But to come to a head like this is very hard to swallow.  As part of my job is to ensure that on a Saturday afternoon, each Easington team in action is at the correct venue with the correct number of players and wearing the correct colours, I took the Stiffs' failure personally.   

What I subsequently found more hurtful was the accusation by some within the Club that what happened with the Reserves wouldn't matter because the First Team won; the inference obviously being that results at senior level override all other events within the club.  As I wrote in the subsequent week's programme and on the club website, that is definitely not the case. 
That said, this is a blog primarily about the fixtures that do take place and that I actually get to see.  So, let's move on to some of the details  of a much-needed 3-0 win at Low Farm rather than dwelling on what might or might not have occured en route to Brid.
  

Fresh from the frustration of Nottingham, Mack took the opportunity before kick-off to highlight the fact that a run of 9 home matches in the last 13 fixtures could still see us drastically improve our league position in the CML Premier Division.  

A provisional target of 30pts was written large on the Nobo board.  Cue plenty of tub-thumping and good intentions...

A man on a mission

Not that it counted for much as we made a sluggish start to proceedings.  Again.  In fairness to our visitors (who, it must be said, are certainly among the more affable opponents in what is at any rate a very friendly competition) we were very fortunate to come off at half-time still on level terms.

"He's no Terry Butcher"

Admittedly, we weren't helped by a nasty gash to the head that forced Blounty off the park - thus splitting up our hitherto entertaining central defensive duo of Barry & Paul Chuckle.
At least Danny's withdrawal allowed the Farm Faithful their first look at new signing Ricky Kemp.  And the Barton Town man was to leave them impressied by much of what he did...although, apart from Pete Farndale, not many will take kindly to his choice of Leeds United leisurewear on match days.  Club tracksuit required ASAP.

"He's new thoo knows?"

Kiveton had definitely shaded matters territorially and created the better of the chances.  Some of their play was a pleasure to watch, slick passing and good movement off the ball; on this evidence there's no wonder they're enjoying a much better campaign this time round.
Thankfully, in a game in which it always seemed the first goal would be crucial, it fell our way thanks to Mozzer's stonking strike from 25 yards.

"One Nil"

His second, from a corner, put us firmly in the driving seat and Kivo were already a beaten side by the time Gav smacked home number three near the end.  A defining moment in our season perhaps?

Mozzer doubles up

As a side-note, the first and second goals prompted much mirth among the home Committee given that both saw the ball disappear through the back of the goal net.  Head Groundsman 'Brim' Biglin duly took the blame...

"I've put 'em right lads...in case we get a third!"

We did...and the net held firm!

An enjoyable day on the home front had also seen the surprise but welcome - albeit temporary - return to the First Team fold  of former asst-boss 'Nige'.  He enjoyed a productive run off the bench and his performance certainly gave Mack much post-match food for thought.
My collection of some overdue "fines" and a convivial post-match atmosphere involving members of the Stiffs, who'd come down to watch, also helped divert thoughts away from the obvious trouble brewing elsewhere in the "Ezzie Family". 
And given the increased tetchiness among members of the Second XI, hearing of a well-deserved point gained by a full-strength Casuals at promotion rivals Shiptonthorpe, was perhaps not the news they wanted to hear.  I braced myself for the predictable texts and emails to follow. 

Still, this was put to the back of my mind and I retired to the Granby buoyed by news of Super Matty Fryatt's winner in front of three and a half thousand travelling Tigers at The City Ground, Nottingham.  Sets things up nicely for Tuesday night thought I...

If there's one thing I've learnt as a Hull City fan of some thirty-odd years, it's that there's no club like East Yorkshire's finest for building you up only to knock you straight back down.

And so perhaps I shouldn't have been too surprised by the fact that my return to the East Stand would be accompanied by defeat to one of our main  top six rivals.  A defining moment in their Play-off pursuit perhaps?

Stung by a sucker punch early on from newly-arrived Aston Villa loanee Nathan Delfuoneso, the Tigers certainly had their moments.  Super Matt couldn't quite cap one of the few incisive moves of the first half, while Andy Dawson was denied by a fine save at the start of the second half.  However, the best chance fell to match programme cover star Corry Evans on 69mins but, having been played through by Aaron McLean's excellent pass, he too was denied by Grant.

"Why couldn't he have signed a day later?"

Burnley were also forced to defend what seemed an unusually high number of corners but sadly for the majority of the 21,000 crowd, Anthony Gerrard endured a rare "threepenny bit of a head" night.  

In truth the Clarets could well have doubled their tally on the break and overall it wasn't a bad game, although you wouldn't have thought so given the subdued atmosphere inside the ground.  

The East Stand was far from the "cauldron of noise" that I'd hoped it might be and, indeed, had been for fleeting moments during my last visit to the ground for the Leeds game.  My disappointment was compounded by the glut of ignorant and innane comments generally aimed in the direction of current "boo Boy" James Harper.  It was enough to ensure I'll revert to the Upper West for my next return (at least "Arps" can be assured a better class of insult from up there).

Thankfully, despite the result, there was enough evidence to suggest that under the increasingly popular manager Nigel Pearson, this City side may take the odd step backwards in the short term but the long-term direction is very much forwards.

I went to bed wondering whether I'd be saying the same about our Reserve team in a few days time...

Photos courtesy of Colin Brammer & Burt Graham

"No dickets to Dottingham..."

Saturday 26th February - Nottingham United (away) 
Drew 3-3

It's Tuesday and Mrs Slush has decided to watch the "One Born Every Minute" she recorded the previous night.

At this point, may I point out that I had no hand in the decision to deem this programme worthy of space on the hard drive - I was in the White Horse "thrashing out" the finer points of our forthcoming arrangement with mine host Barry, soon-to-be the new face of our post-match watering hole, The Marquis of Granby.  (I might add that this was done over a very nice couple of pints of Tetley Cask, which itself surprised me as I haven't touched that particular brew since "The Lord's Tears" lost its allure for me some years back.)  But I digress. 
What is it about women who do nothing but complain about the pain felt during child-birth ("men should be forced to go through it" blah blah etc etc) then cannot wait to watch programmes that bring it right back into focus.  What's more, they then get mad when you don't wish to share the "experience".  Again.  For chrissakes, I was there at the arrival of both the Slushettes, I have no burning desire to sit through it all again on my telly screen.

Then there's the tears.  Bloody hell.  I hadn't seen so many since we beat Withernsea in the 1997 South Holderness Cup Final.  So, what did I do?  Sit down beside and give her a hug, assure her everything will be alright and reminisce about both "special nights" of our own?  You're having a laugh - it was into the study to catch up on the Blog.

Not that my account of the latest instalment of the Eastenders' CML story amounts to much - I wasn't there.

A mild bout of man-flu and a full complement on the bus combined to ensure that the trip to the 3G pitch at the Gresham Sports Pavilion last Saturday became the fourth I'd missed since we joined the Central Midlands League.

Given the result - a fifth successive away draw in all competitions - and the lack of reports of a quality cask ale in the post-match watering hole, on balance it appears not to have been a bad one to miss.

The game itself saw goals from Andy M and Gav fire us into a two-goal lead inside the opening half-hour, with several other chances to wrap things up before the break going begging.

A foul by Blounty then offered the hosts a lifeline on the stroke of half-time, which they accepted courtesy of Sean Canning.

The equaliser came when home striker Andrew Richards was afforded too much time and space within a minute of the second half restart.

A second penalty, this time awarded after skipper AG had been fouled, saw Andy M fire us back into the lead but, with just a minute left, Charlie got invovled in an incident at a corner - seen by the referee's assistant - and Canning was given a second opportunity from twelve yards out.  He didn't miss.

Other than the bare facts and a read through the hosts' well produced match programme I have little else to report.  Nobody even thought it worth reporting back on the quality of ale available in the post-match watering hole, The Varsity.  Perhaps the comment, "there was plenty of fanny in there" explains why. 

In summary, frustration appeared to be the overriding emotion of both the manager and skipper when I caught up with them afterwards. 
And frustration would also be a good word to sum up my own mood - I'd wanted to use this hour to catch-up on the first episode of the locally-filmed Sunday night serial South Riding!