I'd Rother Not Bother.

Saturday, 13th November 2010.
nPower League Two
Rotherham United 2 OUFC 1

Better. Much Better. Yet still nothing to show for it.

My new wife & I decided to make a weekend of this one. Not that she would be coming to the game of course - oh no, I've learnt my lesson there about trying to force football upon her. But she will, at least, tolerate my obsession and from time to time allow me to build a weekend around it if there is something in it for her.

With the rather large shopping complex of Meadowhall only 2 miles away from Don Valley Stadium, Rotherham's odd decision to become Sheffield's third team* certainly helped in this regard. As did a friend's house party in Leeds that evening. And my wife's grandma inviting us for Sunday lunch in Doncaster the following day. I love it when a plan comes together.

So, off we set early on Saturday morning up the M1 to the outskirts of Sheffield to Itinerant Rotherham's new ground.

Well, I say 'ground', but what I actually mean is athletics track. This was not a football ground, quite clearly. It did have a nice enough stand down the side, that the Rotherham fans were in. Then it had 2 small single-block covered stands either-side of the main stand, looking onto the corner of the pitch - one of which housed the travelling U's fans.  Completing the circuit around the athletics track were a number of uncovered blocks, all un-used leaving around ¾ of the ground looking rather desolate and empty.



Don Valley: It's Just Not Football.

 As you can see, the view was pretty cock from where we were. I could just make out the far goal, beyond the long jump sand pit and steeplechase water jump. The atmosphere was even worse than the view though - as you might expect from a ground miles away from the fucking pitch and with three empty sides.

It was cold last week at Burton, but colder still in Sheffield - and as I watched Rotherham's second go in just after 30 mins, I couldn't help wondering whether it might be nicer sat in Cafe Rouge with a Steak Frites and a glass of Stella with my wife, only 2 miles away.

As it was I was sat with blue fingers sipping luke-warm tea and listening to some of the more backwards Oxford fans around me talking utter shite, and wondering how the hell they managed to survive this long in life.

One guy was still shouting and swearing at the ball boys having a kick around with a ball that had gone out of play a full 2 minutes after another ball boy had already sent a second ball into play and the game had resumed. When he eventually noticed that the game had re-started while the ball he clearly thought was the only one in the ground was still with the ball boys, it very nearly blew his fragile mind.

Despite a spirited performance, there was no way back from the Le Fondre brace for Oxford it seemed, and so we sunk to yet another defeat and alarm bells might well be sounding for some. Not for me though - I was impressed with new loanees Wotton & MacLean, and thought that generally we played well and on another day might have even won, rather than coming away with nothing.

And it could be worse. It must be fucking terrible for Rotherham fans, to be fair. Not only do they have to travel to the next town to see their team play, but to the next town that already has two much better Football League sides in it, so they are hardly likely even to pick up any new fans. They are more likely to just have the piss taken out of them by any Wednesday & United fans that come across the brave few souls who cross the M1 on a matchday into enemy territory.

Luckily for them, yet certainly not for us, they have Mr Le Fondre at the moment and the way he's scoring, I don't imagine we'll see him still with the Millers for the return fixture in Oxford next February. 

He proved the difference on the day, as both teams got into space, had good chances, made mistakes - but Mr Le Fondre put his away very simply where perhaps we did not make the best of ours.

Soon we were being forced to make the walk of shame out of the ground around the track, past 7 or 8 blocks of empty seats that will presumably only ever be filled if Usain Bolt were to visit during an athletics meet.

It was certainly an odd place to watch a game of league football, and one I'd rather wasn't a football venue. I must admit to be hankering somewhat for a rickety old moss-covered stand, crumbling underfoot, with the threat of iron girders falling from above never far from your mind. Ahh, the beauty of what should be the lower leagues.

Instead of driving South with all the other mildly-disgruntled Oxford fans, I was heading North up the M1 after the game, to Leeds for the house-warming of a Sheffield Wednesday fan. One interesting snippet from him to end the day, was that Steve MacLean was absolute class when he was with them, just a few years ago.

Let's hope he has still got it.

He was also a fucking Astronaut, I ought to add. Amazing guy.

*Rotherham are even in the process of changing names it seems to 'The Sheffield Eagles', judging by all the signs around the ground.