Gillingham Taylforth

Saturday, 5th February 2011.
nPower League Two

Gillingham 0 OUFC 0

 
Bah, what a bore-draw that was! I didn't really enjoy this one - thought both sides were pretty mediocre to be honest and no amount of  "but it is a good point away from home"-ing from other fans can change my mind on this. We were average, they were average, the point was earned through attrition and lack of adventure. There, that's that said.

Getting down to Gillingham was a doddle for me. As I go through North Kent everyday on the train to and from work, I simply had to hop on the HighSpeed line from St Pancras and pay an extra £5 from Ebbsfleet to get me to the wonders of Gillingham.

My, my - what a delightfully shit town this is. A lot of people from the South of England probably have a conception as the North of our wonderful country to be 'run-down' and have the most crappy towns. A quick trip to Gillingham may have you thinking again.

The word 'bleak' might well have been invented to describe Gillingham.* I know Oxford have their fair share of Chavs on show at every away day, but this little enclave of North Kent seemed to have been broadcasting a trance-inducing Pikey-signal, drawing them in from all around to mope about aimlessly on the streets like a scene from Dawn of the Dead.



The Rt. Hon MP for Gillingham North


Every fake burberry-capped, spotty, tracksuit-wearing oaf and every WKD-swigging teenage mother with scraped-back peroxide hair seem to have congregated in Gillingham on Saturday to hang about outside the dodgy fried chicken outlets and no doubt sniff some glue, or whatever it is the displaced yoofs of today get up to (To be honest my cultural references to these wasted generations hasn't really been updated since 1980s Grange Hill).

I might be being unfair to Gillingham - it might have it's nice points. Just I didn't notice them on my visit. I did meet a friendly Oxford face on the train down though, and joined him and a few other Yellows for a few pre-match pints in a pub opposite the station - typically dingy but quite a welcoming watering hole to be fair. It might well be a run-down town, but I will admit that it wasn't an unfriendly place.

Although if any of the residents read this blog they may be waiting for me with pitchforks and torches next time we play there.

Oooh, Sauce!



I ended up getting a little drunk before the game and in need of spicy-burger refreshment to sober up somewhat. Sadly, there is no Branos in Gillingham and I didn't like the look of Kent Fried Chicken in town.

So instead I followed my nose to the ground and found a well-placed Turkish-run place and ordered a fishcake and chips. I also took some rather arty shots of the inside of the takeaway, that I think highlights to you just how pissed I was.



Fishcake-Dispensing Action!



I can however heartily recommend their fishcakes, next time you happen to be in the area. Very well-fried.

The entrance for away fans to Gillingham's ground is an odd one, with away turnstiles placed at the dead-end of a residential cul-de-sac of mostly run-down terrace housing.

Mind you, if I lived there, I might not bother to do up the front of my house too much, considering the heavy footfall of away fans each season that might enjoy relieving themselves in my front garden or chucking their rubbish at my windows.

That said, I doubt very much if I'd ever find myself living there in the first place, actually.



Away Turnstiles, Gillingham

Inside the ground, the temporary away seating held together with precarious-looking scaffolding was still there from my previous visit in 2005. I had assumed at the time it was temporary, at least. Seeing as how it's Six years later and still there though, I'd say it has a feeling of permanence about it. Although, it felt at any moment as though that permanency would soon be tested when the Oxford fans at the back started doing the 'Jump up if you love Oxford' song.

The view under my seat. Terrifying.

Mind you, at least the threat of almost perishing amidst a collapsing jungle of scaffolding made the 90mins interesting. As it was, the most interesting bit of the day was that fishcake.

Here are a couple more pictures of Priestfield Road - I don't have much else to say, as it was a fairly uneventful journey home.


Priestfield Road: Gillingham.



Oh, there was also the bloke that threatened to smack my head in because I took a picture of a placard in the back seat of his car that read "My Fucking Brother". Quite a funny story actually.



My Fucking Brother: "I just had to tell people, Bro".



*It wasn't though.