Stocksbridge Park Steels 3 – 5 Halifax Town; 21/09/10.

Stocksbridge Park Steels 3 – 5 Halifax Town; 21/09/10.

The two Whitby home matches showed a Town side going under continuous improvement. ITV Calendar had little to film in the first half of the FA Cup 1QR, but after that we were treated to a for-crying-out-loud volume of missed chances as we powered forward, forward and forward. Including Holland missing an open goal from two yards. Deano then came on, and shortly after Metcalfe smashed one in from the other side of the box, before crossing it to Deano for him to hit a header in over the 'keeper. 2–0, and Ashton United away in the next round this Saturday. The league match on the Saturday after was what the last match would've been like if we had a better clue as a strike force. A Deano hat-trick with his first full 90 minutes in five months. 5–1 with two goals from Holland in between. Perfect day out watching football, one which more of the 200,000 Calderdale residents should take notice of.



I've now moved out and am in Leeds. Instead of going to another freshers night, the logical thing was to take the journey to South Yorkshire to see Stocksbridge put up a worthy fight against us, having beaten FC United 4–1 away in FC United's spate of fanbase-destroying performances. I was kindly given a lift down to Stocksbridge just after the sun had set, and we drive around the side of a hill above a valley completely covered by a steel works. On the hill towards the ground is a small turret overlooking it that features in the Park Steels badge, and one of the last available parking places is found for us a mile later.



Having a ground with two small stands shouldn't be much to shout about, but Stocksbridge's looks great. The clubhouse opens out onto the road as a regular inn and on the other side stands at the top of an open terrace at the corner of the pitch, beside which is a small covered terrace and a covered stand with wooden seating, the building made of steel, as would be expected. Despite the hill it's on, the pitch is flat and well-kept and the grassy slopes at the sides show the slope. A final length of the pitch is cordoned off by a temporary fence because it also plays host to cricket, albeit one much better looking than the plastic tape at Mickelover. The place looks great, and all the dustbin-cabins you get elsewhere that pose as outhouses etc are out of sight. The programme I have been given quickly loses its single staple and then mysteriously vanishes from my back pocket. I will see it in 50 years' time, rolled up in an old milk bottle while on a holiday in Tromsø.



The match was incredible. It has to be one of the merriest away days around. Stocksbridge immediately turn out to be likely candidates and keep it in our half, taking a handful of minutes to shoot a ball past Senior from one corner of the box to the other corner of the net, showing their worth as a side. We show ours in the next movement down the pitch, as Holland is felled and then perfectly places his 20-yard free kick just out of goalkeeper Ogden's reach. A few minutes later Metcalfe heads to Deano over several yards who heads in return past Oggy's reach. So much character within so little time, and games like this don't have to peter out after 10 minutes of end-to-end hi-jinks.



Half an hour in Stocksbridge capitalised after several bodies in the box following a free kick to them saw the ball go into the other net, Phil Senior still stuck at the other post. Their striker Mike Ward made it 3–2 following a penalty decision I couldn't quite see, but if Aspin doesn't think much of the decision, then neither do I. Stocksbridge in front at half time with a comeback of their own that turned the Halifax-centric run of play into another footballing tug-o-war. All the time, Stocksbridge players roly-polying about on the floor following half the tackles, followed by lamb-like frolicking as soon as the whistle was blown. Three yellow cards came in quick succession in between the Stocksbridge response goals, but our opportunities were more numerous and there was no reason to feel worried.

I had abandoned all hope in ever seeing a free kick fly in again, but a second one did into the second-half, this time Metcalfe impressing with the satisfying sight and sound of his own freekick bouncing past the line after hitting the bar . . . and the following goals were just as impressive! After that Town had resurfaced and it was on the verge of becoming a frustrating search for a winner when Holland lobbed the 'keeper from the far corner of the left hand side of the box, a lob far too quick for any defender to run after.



The referee really wasn't that bad when you account for how many fail to crack down on anti-football from the opposition. So I regret ever complaining on hindsight. Though Stocksbridge were a dangerous side worthy of the higher echelons of a mid-table ranking, being 13th and the top scorers in the league as proof, they also had the propensity for being a dirty side as I had been warned by my FCUM-supporting pal prior to the game. Mainly in their art of doing forward rolls following any tackle that looked slightly good enough for one. Their Ludlum was sent off as a warning to the rest of them, and a few minutes later Garner's cross-shot eased the tension of two-way traffic, sealing a fantastic 3–5 victory for us as Stocksbridge pleaded Phil Senior to give them an equaliser. But the icing on the cake was Stocksbridge's manager being sent off in the final minutes!

Let us recap. They scored, we responded with two, they responded with two to take the lead, and we responded with three at a time that would finally bury the most resilient of oppositions. Noice.



Another mention goes out to the craic us Shaymen had on the grassy banking during the second half. The 'keeper Oggy, very pleased for Stocksbridge to have taken the lead again at 3–2, decided to non-verbally acknowledge us all calling out his name and giving him banter. Not sure if he'll want to do it again in a hurry, which is a shame as it was good while it lasted. His greatest trick as a goalkeeper was a goal kick as we went "aaaAAAAAaaaaaaaAAAAAAA—YOU! SHI—oh, wait," as he ran up and then performed a feint. He did that at FC United's game, too. Good lad.

And then there were the 13-year-old Stocksbridge locals who angrily started squealing at the middle-aged Shaymen at the top of the grassy bank, and the banter us Shaymen gave as they whinged back almost as if they were being genuinely persecuted. An actual young Stocksbridge fan laughed at them too, reminding them it was their first ever match at the Look Local Stadium and that they shouldn't get carried away. I suppose the Halifax Town fixture can draw kids like this, as I knew all too well from Clitheroe.



Wonderful warm, still night (last year it got cold three weeks earlier), and a performance from the Shaymen up there with Wrexham, both Colwyns last season, Droylsden etc etc. We have improved vastly and it'll be a push for any team to make me this proud, or to come back in a better way. Once again further proof that Aspin has become a master at making 11 men work with fluidity so well, that not one player can be particularly called out as a star man. The last few weeks has definitely shown us the improvement we were promised. So worth it you wouldn't believe.



Stocksbridge Park Steels 3 – 5 Halifax Town; att. 658
Ground: 8/10
Pitch: 9/10
Programme: 7/10
Talent: 1/10
Non-partisan entertainment: 10/10

Bradford Park Avenue 4 – 1 FC United of Manchester; 08/09/10.

Bradford Park Avenue 4 – 1 FC United of Manchester; 08/09/10.

Many of us sympathise to the scenario where you cheer your team off the pitch after another great performance, and wish a match would be on every day of the week. That's what I'm trying to do here. Less than a fortnight left of holiday and I should at least take advantage of having late nights open to me, so I did the obvious and checked out the Horsfall Ground to watch a big game for Bradford Park Avenue; one where they certainly had the potential to win, and would expect a crowd for it.



The place gives an impression of somewhere well-run. There is a stage in the bar for post-match interviews that we infiltrated with a Shaymen scarf, there is a tuck shop, the chips are proper wedges and the club shop's an immaculate effort. Above it all, blinged-up like a member of the mafia, Bob Blackburn leans from the officials balcony and the ash falling from his cigarette doesn't care where it lands. The impressive 1,800-seater stand is separated from the pitch by an athletics track, and though the other sides are unbuilt save the classy dressing room complex opposite the stand, there's a great amount of space to build on. Makes you wonder why Blackburn wishes to relocate the club to the other side of Bradford and build a 20,000-seating stadium from scratch. I mean, when you forget that just 400 turn up every week and 20,000-seaters don't come cheap.



At the shop I bought a club badge and a decades-old programme. It raises the old Euthyphro dilemma: do I not get any because I'm a sad act, or am I a sad act because I don't get any?

The players come out and the stand grows out from the center, as 500 or so FC United fans, without a single piece of sheet music in sight, go through a repertoire of oldies, replacing most nouns with the name of their team. Among them are Anarchy in the UK by the Sex Pistols, then Peaches by the Stranglers, then Dirty Old Town by the Pogues, but my personal favourite is one with a bit of falsetto to the chorus going "Watching Eff-Ceeheeee . . ."



The game kicks off at a decent tempo and FC United are lucky to put away one of their first chances in the 8th minute by Ovington. Riordan retorts for Bradford within a minute, and the United scarves will be never waved again. Not for tonight. But the shock of a quick comeback is nothing to stop a chant and the volume level doesn't drop. Then for a seemingly very long interval the FCUM goalie falls down hurt, and remembering his team despite having two other 'keepers never has any on the bench, decided to carry on. The teams proceed to fight a well-matched first half, though a few minutes after the second goal a well-targeted Bradford header is disallowed. Some chances come either side, but nothing that properly tests either 'keeper and very few that sear the wrong side of the post.



I am taken into the bar before the first half ends by the FCUM fans we were spending the time with, coming out a few minutes later to find they're still playing. I won't succumb to missing a minute of action for anyone else again. Even if I ever have a child who wants to leave matches early, then I shall tie them to the wrong side of the net and abandon them.

The second half comes with us now stood in the middle of the chants, getting a little attention for our Town shirts, and FC United of Manchester have run out of ideas. They either punt the ball up right into the hands of Sam Scott, or are closed down by an organised back four. That second half they never got close, but the songs carried on and drowned out individual disparaging comments from the fans, and flares were lit, resulting in the Bradford defense indifferently waving the smoke from their view. The Mancunians relied on their defense, and it was thwarted as near the end, Tom Greaves slid one in at close range, with the 'keeper stood helpless by the other post.



We walked out early, because apparently the last bus back to Town in a while was setting off. As we were doing this, we heard two further cheers, too small to be FCUM goals. Tom Greaves scored two more in just as many minutes, and as we ran back to the ground finding that the next bus went after full-time, Bradford were 4–1 up with half the United fans making a run for it. One Premier League principle they haven't abandoned is leaving matches early. Park Ave continued their late all-out, narrowly missing with a cross-shot hybrid, and the whistle blew to confirm that Halifax Town had crept up a place on goal difference. £16 or £17 spent on a nice night out, though ground-hopping without a driver's license is tricky beyond words.



Bradford 4 – 1 FC United of Manchester; att. 990
Ground: 6/10
Pitch: 9/10
Programme: 8/10
Talent: 2/10
Entertainment: 7/10