I agree wholeheartedly with Gavin Brown's sentiment. Just a shame he's a scummer.
Thursday, 28 April 2011
The A420 Classico
Thought I'd share with you this article here, from today's Metro, which talks (albeit briefly and with only a surface-level scratching, as is this particular rag's style) about the long-overdue renewing of rivalries next season with the rancid hordes of Wiltshire.
I agree wholeheartedly with Gavin Brown's sentiment. Just a shame he's a scummer.
I agree wholeheartedly with Gavin Brown's sentiment. Just a shame he's a scummer.
Saturday, 23 April 2011
Inspired to Give up Football
Hello there. I'm away on holiday this weekend, so will be missing today's big fixture against the Champions-elect. What a disgrace! Anyway, here is an article I wrote for today's programme. You can let me know if the naughty programme editor doesn't publish it.
It has a rather tenuous link to today's game, but it is about football - and this is a football blog. So I'm publishing it here.
Don't read if you like to keep things a bit more relevant on a matchday.
The Clough, My Uncle, Steve Ogrizovic and his Lover.
My uncle you see went for a brief trial as a teenager in the late 1970’s at Nottingham Forest, whilst Brian Clough was manager. This was certainly a very prestigious opportunity for him, and the chance to get on the books of one of the country’s top sides at the time and play a part in a potential football league championship and European Cup-winning squad.
He was invited to play in a game with other trialists at Forest’s training ground, in front of a number of Forest coaching staff, including Clough’s right-hand man Peter Taylor. Now, whether my Uncle embellishes the tale or not is up for debate – but he tells me he had a remarkable game and even bagged a couple of goals. Surely, he had done enough to impress Forest enough to take a second look, he thinks.
The trialists were then told by Taylor that Mr Clough was on his way down to the training ground to pick out a couple of trialists to come back and feature in a full reserve team game later that week. My uncle was clearly very excited as he knew he’d done enough in that game to impress and Taylor would surely be highlighting that fact to Mr Clough on his arrival.
So in pulled Clough to the car park, who then strolled across to the group, asked them to do a quick lap of the pitch, and then stand in line as he walked past them giving them all nothing but a cursory glance.
He then picked out 4 of the 20 or so boys stood in line with a jabbed finger in their direction and a simple “You, You, You and you. You can come back tomorrow. The rest of you, thanks for your time.”
I can just imagine my uncle’s perplexed face at this point, as he still has that pained face whenever he recounts the tale today. He stood forward nervously to ask Old Big ‘ead a question.
Clough: “What do you want lad?"
My Uncle: “Well, I’m sorry Mr Clough but you haven’t even seen us play, you’ve only seen us run around the pitch! How do you know if we are worth coming back if you haven’t even seen us play?”
Clough: “I don’t need to see you play, because you don’t even look like a footballer.”
And with that, quick as a flash Clough was off back to his car. He had not even spoken to a single member of his coaching staff about how any of the boys had played.
It would be nice for my uncle to be able to say that this disillusioned him with the world of football so he simply quit the game forever, but that wouldn’t be true of course, he still had other opportunities and was obviously just not quite good enough. Something that the genius of Clough could obviously tell just by the look in his eyes.
Still, a nice little story, I hope you’ll agree.
A silly little story though and quite vaguely related to today’s fixture maybe, but hey, Whad’ya want from me?
Up the U’s.
It has a rather tenuous link to today's game, but it is about football - and this is a football blog. So I'm publishing it here.
Don't read if you like to keep things a bit more relevant on a matchday.
 |
| Chesterfield: Crooked Spire comes to Dreaming Spires. |
The Clough, My Uncle, Steve Ogrizovic and his Lover.
Chesterfield are one of those teams I have a soft spot for due to the fact that my Father grew up in nearby Tibshelf. My uncle was also on the books of Chesterfield as a youngster, playing alongside a certain Coventry legend Steve Ogrizovic in the youth team (Younger readers may not remember him but anyone of a certain age will. And I am of a certain age. At least these days if you are too young to remember him you can look him up online. We only had Panini stickers as reference tools in my day).
 |
| Ogrizovic: Coventry Goalkeeper turned Ghostbusters foe. |
My uncle never made it into the Chesterfield first team, nor as a professional footballer at all – but things might have been very different for him were it not for the whims of a certain red-nosed managerial genius at a nearby first division side. So different in fact, my uncle will often be heard to recount, that instead of owning a flooring business for a living he might have a European Cup winner’s medal were it not for that certain manager’s dismissive and rambunctious style.
My uncle you see went for a brief trial as a teenager in the late 1970’s at Nottingham Forest, whilst Brian Clough was manager. This was certainly a very prestigious opportunity for him, and the chance to get on the books of one of the country’s top sides at the time and play a part in a potential football league championship and European Cup-winning squad.
He was invited to play in a game with other trialists at Forest’s training ground, in front of a number of Forest coaching staff, including Clough’s right-hand man Peter Taylor. Now, whether my Uncle embellishes the tale or not is up for debate – but he tells me he had a remarkable game and even bagged a couple of goals. Surely, he had done enough to impress Forest enough to take a second look, he thinks.
 |
| Ol' Big 'Ead with Ol' Jug Ears. |
So in pulled Clough to the car park, who then strolled across to the group, asked them to do a quick lap of the pitch, and then stand in line as he walked past them giving them all nothing but a cursory glance.
He then picked out 4 of the 20 or so boys stood in line with a jabbed finger in their direction and a simple “You, You, You and you. You can come back tomorrow. The rest of you, thanks for your time.”
 |
| "You are a bloody disgrace!" |
Clough: “What do you want lad?"
My Uncle: “Well, I’m sorry Mr Clough but you haven’t even seen us play, you’ve only seen us run around the pitch! How do you know if we are worth coming back if you haven’t even seen us play?”
Clough: “I don’t need to see you play, because you don’t even look like a footballer.”
And with that, quick as a flash Clough was off back to his car. He had not even spoken to a single member of his coaching staff about how any of the boys had played.
It would be nice for my uncle to be able to say that this disillusioned him with the world of football so he simply quit the game forever, but that wouldn’t be true of course, he still had other opportunities and was obviously just not quite good enough. Something that the genius of Clough could obviously tell just by the look in his eyes.
Still, a nice little story, I hope you’ll agree.
A silly little story though and quite vaguely related to today’s fixture maybe, but hey, Whad’ya want from me?
Up the U’s.
Monday, 18 April 2011
Stanley Welcomes Careful Drivers
Saturday, 16th April 2011
nPower League Two
Accrington Stanley 0 OUFC 0
Accrington Stanley 0 OUFC 0
So, once again the meeting of matter and anti-matter cancel each other out. Professor Brian Cox, sat in a conservatory behind the stand on Saturday in a radiation suit and sunglasses, was there to witness the expected cataclysm in the space-time continuum as two teams that should never have met on the field of play did battle for a second time this season.
Thankfully for all not interested in witnessing a meltdown in the very fabric of the universe, neither Accrington nor Oxford managed to find the net and thus remain in the permanent state of equilibrium with each other, and the galaxy is at peace. Two games played, two 0-0 draws. There is clearly no possible way either team can break this natural ordering of things, no goal will EVER be scored in these ties and Professor Cox will forever be denied his event horizon moment.
So anyway, this was one I was very much looking forward to all season - the trip to Accrington Stanley. It might just be the nostalgia of that Milk commercial from the 80's (If you are too young to remember this, that makes me want to cry). It might be the hype around the coincidence of our mirrored promotions/relegations to and from the football league in 1962 and 2006. Or it might simply be the intrigue of a team so oddly-named as 'Stanley'.
 |
Eitherway, I was bang up for this one, and not even a twat of a gouty foot was going to stop me making the 470-mile round trip. It did try to though.
Those afflicted with gout will know that you need to drink plenty of fluid to stave off an attack. Well I did this, but the 3 litres of water I'd downed on the way up meant no less than 4 emergency stops on the hard shoulder of the M6 to relieve my over-filled bladder. Thankfully, no Juggernaut plowed into the back of my car during these stops and after 3.5 hours of travelling I was into the Northern Lancashire countryside and descending through the escarpment of the Pennines into the surprisingly pleasant town of Accrington.
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| Crown Ground Accrington: Nice. |
Mind you, there were some feral children with dirty faces and no shoes running around in the streets of the estate next to the ground.
 |
| The funny little stand: Brian Cox in a Conservatory behind. |
The Crown Ground itself is a wonderfully rustic place. Reminiscent of Altrincham's ground, except with a more dilapidated corrugated-iron stand with only 3 rows of seats to the right of the away end. Before the home end opposite had even filled up, it was festooned with flags and banners and it seemed a very friendly place to visit. I liked the place.
They even had a goggle-eyed Mutt as a mascot, who cheerily gave the Oxford faithful the thumbs up throughout the verbal assault he sustained whilst making a visit to say hello to us. Good on him.
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| Goggle-Eyed Mutt: Friendly. |
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| U's fans getting a soaking. |
The game itself got better as time went on. You can see why Accrington have such a great home record, as they came at Oxford from the off and had a good few chances to take the game away from us before Oxford had even got into 2nd gear. Their fans, although helped by what seemed to be a full brass band, were in good voice and the atmosphere was a great example of what a small but vocal crowd can create in League Two.
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| Match Action! Wow! |
Jedward were loving it.
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| Jedward: Big fans of OUFC |
And so, 0-0 it was (and was surely always destined to be) and the long 4 hour drive back to London for me with the knowledge that any real chance of promotion this season is realistically behind Oxford now.
But things are not looking so bad for next season, I reckon. Let's just hope Accrington go up so we don't risk ending the universe again by playing each other for a third time.
Saturday, 9 April 2011
The Big M40 Derby
+++An article you can also read in today's Matchday Programme+++
Why come, Wanderers?
Wycombe Wanderers, our near-neighbours are in town this afternoon, that’s why. But they are not our rivals. Oh no. And we are not theirs. No, no no. We don’t care about each other’s fortunes at all, do we?
Well of course we do.
It’s one of those games we all look forward to, isn’t it? And yet we try to kid ourselves that we do not. Because we are not rivals. No, not in any way.
Well, actually yes, in many ways.
Today will be one of if not the biggest Oxford home crowd of the season, with a bumper home turn-out plus a 1,500+ following expected to journey up the M40 from Buckinghamshire.
But it’s just like any other game really. There’s nothing special to it, just because we happen to be close to each other, so what? There is no rivalry there.
What bunkum!
No it doesn’t ignite the same passions as the increasingly-more-likely visit next season of the web-fingered hordes of Wiltshire. Perhaps also victory this afternoon will never feel as good as would getting one over on a certain jumped-up little Berkshire side that seem to have had ideas above their station in the last decade.
But in the absence of these two, Wycombe will surely do as something to get excited about this season. If either team come away with 3 points today, you tell me it isn’t a rivalry when looking at the differing reactions of the two sets of fans. Even if in the cold, calculated light of day both sets may try to blag indifference, in the heated immediate aftermath of the contest, passions will assuredly be higher than if this were just any random League Two fixture.
If you were to go on proximity alone, Wycombe would win the rivals test hands down. It’s 23 miles from Oxford to Wycombe, and a very easy trip down the M40. Compare that to the distances to Swindon and Reading - 30 and 27 miles respectively, via quickest routes.
OK, so it’s not much fun trying to go via train to Wycombe. You’d need to go from Bicester North or into London and out again – if you are interested. But you are not, so that’s irrelevant.
But it’s not about proximity. Well, not just about proximity anyway. More often it’s about years of playing against each other at a similar level, and the built up tensions of that local derby over many, many seasons. That’s why we don’t like Swindon and Reading – we played them a hell of a lot in the 60s, 70s and 90s (We were a bit too busy winning championships and the league cup to bother with them for most of the 80s, of course).
In both sets of fan’s desire to try and play down any rivalry between Oxford and Wycombe, we often like to point to a lack of history between the two clubs. True enough, Wycombe only entered the football league back in 1993. Not least because of our recent exile to the non-league wastes from whence they came; our respective time together in the same divisions of the football league has been fleeting, in the scheme of things.
But for some of us in our 20s and 30s, matches against Wycombe have seemed as frequent as matches against Reading or Swindon. Certainly in the past 10 years since we moved to Grenoble Road, if they are anything to go by (which they are, after all) we’ve played Swindon only once and Reading only twice. Yet the Chairboys and The U’s have done battle 6 times.
So assuming we both continue to play each other regularly over the years, there is no reason why we can’t develop this rivalry into something we don’t try and brush under the carpet, but embrace it for what it really is. A team from nearby that we don’t really like, and who don’t really like us.
So here’s looking forward to a renewed grudging acquaintance next season, by whatever means that meeting can be arranged. An Oxford win today would be a good start.
I suggest getting a lift with someone though, next time we play at Wycombe. The trains are rubbish.
Wycombe Wanderers, our near-neighbours are in town this afternoon, that’s why. But they are not our rivals. Oh no. And we are not theirs. No, no no. We don’t care about each other’s fortunes at all, do we?
Well of course we do.
It’s one of those games we all look forward to, isn’t it? And yet we try to kid ourselves that we do not. Because we are not rivals. No, not in any way.
Well, actually yes, in many ways.
Today will be one of if not the biggest Oxford home crowd of the season, with a bumper home turn-out plus a 1,500+ following expected to journey up the M40 from Buckinghamshire.
But it’s just like any other game really. There’s nothing special to it, just because we happen to be close to each other, so what? There is no rivalry there.
What bunkum!
No it doesn’t ignite the same passions as the increasingly-more-likely visit next season of the web-fingered hordes of Wiltshire. Perhaps also victory this afternoon will never feel as good as would getting one over on a certain jumped-up little Berkshire side that seem to have had ideas above their station in the last decade.
But in the absence of these two, Wycombe will surely do as something to get excited about this season. If either team come away with 3 points today, you tell me it isn’t a rivalry when looking at the differing reactions of the two sets of fans. Even if in the cold, calculated light of day both sets may try to blag indifference, in the heated immediate aftermath of the contest, passions will assuredly be higher than if this were just any random League Two fixture.
If you were to go on proximity alone, Wycombe would win the rivals test hands down. It’s 23 miles from Oxford to Wycombe, and a very easy trip down the M40. Compare that to the distances to Swindon and Reading - 30 and 27 miles respectively, via quickest routes.
OK, so it’s not much fun trying to go via train to Wycombe. You’d need to go from Bicester North or into London and out again – if you are interested. But you are not, so that’s irrelevant.
But it’s not about proximity. Well, not just about proximity anyway. More often it’s about years of playing against each other at a similar level, and the built up tensions of that local derby over many, many seasons. That’s why we don’t like Swindon and Reading – we played them a hell of a lot in the 60s, 70s and 90s (We were a bit too busy winning championships and the league cup to bother with them for most of the 80s, of course).
In both sets of fan’s desire to try and play down any rivalry between Oxford and Wycombe, we often like to point to a lack of history between the two clubs. True enough, Wycombe only entered the football league back in 1993. Not least because of our recent exile to the non-league wastes from whence they came; our respective time together in the same divisions of the football league has been fleeting, in the scheme of things.
But for some of us in our 20s and 30s, matches against Wycombe have seemed as frequent as matches against Reading or Swindon. Certainly in the past 10 years since we moved to Grenoble Road, if they are anything to go by (which they are, after all) we’ve played Swindon only once and Reading only twice. Yet the Chairboys and The U’s have done battle 6 times.
So assuming we both continue to play each other regularly over the years, there is no reason why we can’t develop this rivalry into something we don’t try and brush under the carpet, but embrace it for what it really is. A team from nearby that we don’t really like, and who don’t really like us.
So here’s looking forward to a renewed grudging acquaintance next season, by whatever means that meeting can be arranged. An Oxford win today would be a good start.
I suggest getting a lift with someone though, next time we play at Wycombe. The trains are rubbish.
Saturday, 19 March 2011
The Ghost of Gresty Road
This article can also be found in today's matchday programme, all printed out and with a glossy picture behind it, no doubt.
This afternoon we welcome Crewe Alexandra, a side that have never visited our new stadium and in fact their last visit to Oxford was way back in October 1998, would you even believe.
So matches against The Railwaymen might well be unknown to most of the younger Oxford fans here today in their scuffed shoes, grazed knees and pockets full of sweeties, firecrackers, scrumped apples and catapults.
Yes, that’s what children are like these days, busy reading about Desperate Dan’s latest exploits and dreaming up all manner of beastly japes whilst blissfully unaware of the heady and frequent encounters with Crewe back in the distant 1990’s.
For some of the older fans though, and some of the ones that aren’t actually that old but still remember the 90’s (like me), matches against Crewe might stoke up some fond memories. Some not so fond memories perhaps too.
My first trip to Gresty Road was certainly of the latter variety, which came on 1st April 1995 and was also the first away game I travelled to without the accompaniment of a responsible adult. It turned out to be the last for a while too after myself and my two schoolmates got into all sorts of bother.
Firstly, one of us got collared at Birmingham Snowshill for travelling on a child’s train ticket when we were clearly not 13 anymore but burly, bumfluff-faced and croaky-throated 16 year olds. Being a bit younger-looking (and stealthier), myself and the third member of the expedition managed to avoid the attentions of the British Transport Police by moving swiftly and meekly – but the other chap got a stiff talking to, a fine and had his details taken so was effectively now a criminal (or so it appeared to our child-like minds at the time). Not an auspicious start to our travelling supporter careers.
After continuing the side-tracked journey to Crewe, we eventually arrived 3 hours before kick-off and failed to get served in a single alcoholic tavern, due to being bumfluff-faced, croaky-throated 16 year olds. So, we found ourselves entering the ground at 12.30pm and sunburnt and bored by kick-off. Then the match itself was cack, obviously, as we lost.
Not finished with us yet, April Fool’s Day 1995 decided it still had some more fun up it’s sleeve for the jaded adventurers when after being locked in the ground for 45mins after the game we missed our expected connection at Birmingham. Confused and angry with the world, we then got on the wrong train and ended up stranded in Leamington Spa with no more trains heading south for the night.
The last leg of the journey was done several hours later in the back of a particularly disgruntled parent’s car, having been called up to rescue us.
It certainly appeared that someone might have been playing me and my travelling companions for fools that day after all those shenanigans, and I vowed never to set foot near Crewe ever again.
Of course, I was back there the very following season, and very glad about it I was too. This is the one that instantly springs to most fans’ minds of course, being a glorious sunny day in late April 1996.
On this occasion, a second half goal from a certain Mr Beauchamp turned out to be the goal that sent Oxford into 2nd with 1 game remaining thanks also to Walsall concurrently destroying Blackpool’s day.
Oh how we celebrated on the way home, and the day was completed with many beers, full adult train tickets and getting on the correct trains every time.
The lesson had been learnt and the ghost of Gresty Road had been laid to rest, for this traveller at least.
This afternoon we welcome Crewe Alexandra, a side that have never visited our new stadium and in fact their last visit to Oxford was way back in October 1998, would you even believe.
So matches against The Railwaymen might well be unknown to most of the younger Oxford fans here today in their scuffed shoes, grazed knees and pockets full of sweeties, firecrackers, scrumped apples and catapults.
Yes, that’s what children are like these days, busy reading about Desperate Dan’s latest exploits and dreaming up all manner of beastly japes whilst blissfully unaware of the heady and frequent encounters with Crewe back in the distant 1990’s.
For some of the older fans though, and some of the ones that aren’t actually that old but still remember the 90’s (like me), matches against Crewe might stoke up some fond memories. Some not so fond memories perhaps too.
My first trip to Gresty Road was certainly of the latter variety, which came on 1st April 1995 and was also the first away game I travelled to without the accompaniment of a responsible adult. It turned out to be the last for a while too after myself and my two schoolmates got into all sorts of bother.
Firstly, one of us got collared at Birmingham Snowshill for travelling on a child’s train ticket when we were clearly not 13 anymore but burly, bumfluff-faced and croaky-throated 16 year olds. Being a bit younger-looking (and stealthier), myself and the third member of the expedition managed to avoid the attentions of the British Transport Police by moving swiftly and meekly – but the other chap got a stiff talking to, a fine and had his details taken so was effectively now a criminal (or so it appeared to our child-like minds at the time). Not an auspicious start to our travelling supporter careers.
After continuing the side-tracked journey to Crewe, we eventually arrived 3 hours before kick-off and failed to get served in a single alcoholic tavern, due to being bumfluff-faced, croaky-throated 16 year olds. So, we found ourselves entering the ground at 12.30pm and sunburnt and bored by kick-off. Then the match itself was cack, obviously, as we lost.
Not finished with us yet, April Fool’s Day 1995 decided it still had some more fun up it’s sleeve for the jaded adventurers when after being locked in the ground for 45mins after the game we missed our expected connection at Birmingham. Confused and angry with the world, we then got on the wrong train and ended up stranded in Leamington Spa with no more trains heading south for the night.
The last leg of the journey was done several hours later in the back of a particularly disgruntled parent’s car, having been called up to rescue us.
It certainly appeared that someone might have been playing me and my travelling companions for fools that day after all those shenanigans, and I vowed never to set foot near Crewe ever again.
Of course, I was back there the very following season, and very glad about it I was too. This is the one that instantly springs to most fans’ minds of course, being a glorious sunny day in late April 1996.
On this occasion, a second half goal from a certain Mr Beauchamp turned out to be the goal that sent Oxford into 2nd with 1 game remaining thanks also to Walsall concurrently destroying Blackpool’s day.
Oh how we celebrated on the way home, and the day was completed with many beers, full adult train tickets and getting on the correct trains every time.
The lesson had been learnt and the ghost of Gresty Road had been laid to rest, for this traveller at least.
Tuesday, 15 March 2011
Bragging Rights
Here is an article you may also read in the excellent and award-winning Machday Programme for tonight's game against Stevenage.
Bragging Rights
By Fantastic Mr Ox
Tonight the two teams promoted last season into the Football League do battle again for the chance to say “we are better than what you are”, or bragging rights, as it’s often called these days.
Although obviously both clubs will still be hoping for a last-ditch push into the play-off spots in the final few months of the season, the real relevance of tonight’s game might turn out to be just to see how far each club has come in adapting to this first season at a higher level.
Last season, despite Oxford leading the pack early off, Stevenage probably did just about deserve to be champions come May, we can grudgingly accept through gritted teeth. They had a consistency in the ‘difficult middle-third’ of the season that we didn’t quite match and that first ever victory over us at their patch 12 months ago cemented their claim to being rightful champions – even if Luton did end up giving them a late scare.
But The Conference and The Football League are two very different beasts – winning the former does not necessarily mean adapting well to life in the latter. Indeed, looking back at previous seasons it’s often not the team that came up as champions, but the one that ascended via the more exciting play-off route that does well the following season.
In fact Stat Fans (and I know you are out there…), in the 7 seasons since play-offs were introduced between the FL and the Conference, only twice have the previous seasons’ Champions finished above the Play-Off winners*.
To make the fact even more interesting (no, honestly it IS possible!), on 3 of the other 5 occasions when the play-off winners finished higher, they really took the Mickey out of the champions by getting promoted straight up to League One (Doncaster in 2004, Carlisle in 2006 both as champions, and Exeter in 2009 in 2nd place).
So you see, it sets a precedent that I’d rather like to continue this season, although am sure our visitors from the wilds of Hertfordshire tonight would rather it didn’t.
As it stands, the outcome is rather delicately balanced. Pending the results of Saturday’s games (which I don’t know as the new programme editor has a very strict deadline I’m too scared to miss); we might be a few points above or below our opponents before the start of tonight’s match. Whichever it is, the result tonight will probably go a long way to deciding which club has adapted better to life at a higher level.
Stevenage have certainly gone full-tilt at trying to metamorphose from the plucky, giant-killing, non-league nearly men of the past decade into a plucky giant-killing football league side this season.
Aside from their very exciting escapades in the FA Cup, they also decided to change their name to fit in with the big boys, by dropped the Borough part of their club’s name.
Had they not done this, perhaps they wouldn’t have beaten Newcastle quite so convincingly, having a ring of a non-leagueness about them. Or perhaps the Newcastle team-coach wouldn’t have known where to turn up in the first place, as the administrative division of this area of Hertfordshire is certainly a less-specific location that is the town itself. Mind you, ‘Stevenage Town’ might have thus been a more specific Football League name – as ‘Stevenage’ might well be confused with an ethereal concept or idea rather than a tangible place.
Who knows, but Newcastle did find the ground and Stevenage did beat them, without the Borough or Town affix. So it’s clearly working, whatever the reason behind it.
All I know is, there is a lot more at stake tonight than three points. We all love to brag, after all.
*If you’re interested, it was 2004 when champions Chester finished 20th, one place above Shrewsbury and last season, when Burton finished 13th to Torquay’s 17th.
Bragging Rights
By Fantastic Mr Ox
Tonight the two teams promoted last season into the Football League do battle again for the chance to say “we are better than what you are”, or bragging rights, as it’s often called these days.
Although obviously both clubs will still be hoping for a last-ditch push into the play-off spots in the final few months of the season, the real relevance of tonight’s game might turn out to be just to see how far each club has come in adapting to this first season at a higher level.
Last season, despite Oxford leading the pack early off, Stevenage probably did just about deserve to be champions come May, we can grudgingly accept through gritted teeth. They had a consistency in the ‘difficult middle-third’ of the season that we didn’t quite match and that first ever victory over us at their patch 12 months ago cemented their claim to being rightful champions – even if Luton did end up giving them a late scare.
But The Conference and The Football League are two very different beasts – winning the former does not necessarily mean adapting well to life in the latter. Indeed, looking back at previous seasons it’s often not the team that came up as champions, but the one that ascended via the more exciting play-off route that does well the following season.
In fact Stat Fans (and I know you are out there…), in the 7 seasons since play-offs were introduced between the FL and the Conference, only twice have the previous seasons’ Champions finished above the Play-Off winners*.
To make the fact even more interesting (no, honestly it IS possible!), on 3 of the other 5 occasions when the play-off winners finished higher, they really took the Mickey out of the champions by getting promoted straight up to League One (Doncaster in 2004, Carlisle in 2006 both as champions, and Exeter in 2009 in 2nd place).
So you see, it sets a precedent that I’d rather like to continue this season, although am sure our visitors from the wilds of Hertfordshire tonight would rather it didn’t.
As it stands, the outcome is rather delicately balanced. Pending the results of Saturday’s games (which I don’t know as the new programme editor has a very strict deadline I’m too scared to miss); we might be a few points above or below our opponents before the start of tonight’s match. Whichever it is, the result tonight will probably go a long way to deciding which club has adapted better to life at a higher level.
Stevenage have certainly gone full-tilt at trying to metamorphose from the plucky, giant-killing, non-league nearly men of the past decade into a plucky giant-killing football league side this season.
Aside from their very exciting escapades in the FA Cup, they also decided to change their name to fit in with the big boys, by dropped the Borough part of their club’s name.
Had they not done this, perhaps they wouldn’t have beaten Newcastle quite so convincingly, having a ring of a non-leagueness about them. Or perhaps the Newcastle team-coach wouldn’t have known where to turn up in the first place, as the administrative division of this area of Hertfordshire is certainly a less-specific location that is the town itself. Mind you, ‘Stevenage Town’ might have thus been a more specific Football League name – as ‘Stevenage’ might well be confused with an ethereal concept or idea rather than a tangible place.
Who knows, but Newcastle did find the ground and Stevenage did beat them, without the Borough or Town affix. So it’s clearly working, whatever the reason behind it.
All I know is, there is a lot more at stake tonight than three points. We all love to brag, after all.
*If you’re interested, it was 2004 when champions Chester finished 20th, one place above Shrewsbury and last season, when Burton finished 13th to Torquay’s 17th.
Saturday, 26 February 2011
On Being a Fan...
Here is an article you may also read in today's matchday programme v. Hereford.
On Being a Fan...Football fans are funny creatures. It takes a certain slightly-odd mindset to be one.
I’m not talking about the people that turn up to the pub on a Sunday afternoon in ‘their’ Premiership team’s current replica shirt, have some mild banter with like-minded people in other team’s shirts as they watch their teams battle it out for Premiership seniority on Sky.
No, I don’t mean these kind of people. It’s very easy to be this kind of person. All it takes after all is a trip to JJB Sports, £50 for the shirt and perhaps a lobotomy. These Shirt-wearing, TV-watching, “I’ve never been north of Birmingham but my heart is at Old Trafford” types are not football fans in my eyes. The terminology I use for them is ‘watchers’ of the game.
A real football fan – or supporter, or follower or whatever you wish to call yourself – is someone who has a team they love, normally for a reason other than “they are quite good” or “I like the way they play”, and as often as they are able to they actually go and watch them play. You know, pay money and walk through one of those turnstile thingummies and actually sit in the ground. Someone like you and me (assuming you are reading this at the game and haven’t picked up this programme in a jumble sale in a few years time that is. If you have, you have probably got yourself a real bargain – nice one).
Now, what makes us do this, I don’t know. For all the distaste I sometimes feel for the glory-hunters, you have to admit that to an outsider, it makes a lot more sense to be sat at home watching it on your sofa, or in a nice warm pub with a frothing lager in your hand, and to be supporting a team that wins the trophies every season.
So what is it that makes thousands of people still stream through the turnstiles every week here to watch Fourth-tier football? Surely the easiest solution to frequently being guffawed at by the ignorant Premiership fans in the pub is to get down to JJB, get that replica shirt and join them in their title-winning revelries.
What an easy retort it would be to the Man Utd fan boasting about how great their team are to say “Well actually, I have just decided I support Spain, who are better than Man Utd and current World Champions. I have based this decision on nothing more than that they are really good, and retain the right to change my mind if they start being rubbish again and support someone else. So ner ner nah ner ner!”
But we don’t do that, do we? Instead most of us come back week after week, regardless of how good or bad Oxford results have been, regardless of who Oxford are playing, regardless even of what division or standard of football Oxford are playing in.
That kind of loyalty is of course a wonderful thing – but it is you must admit, also an odd thing. At times it’s also a loyalty that keeps you going to watch them when you’ve not even enjoying the experience.
Although in recent years we have certainly been right-royally entertained by our current crop of stars, I don’t need to tell anyone who has been coming for years that the majority of the last decade has been less than value-for-money entertainment.
I lost count of how many Saturday mornings I spent less in anticipation of an exciting afternoon of football, but more in grudging acceptance that I simply had to go up and watch them play crap football out of ‘duty’. Many a day I left a nice warm bed and passed up the chance to do something else that afternoon that might not have put me in a foul mood or left me shivering on a cold terrace and contracting food poisoning from a manky burger.
FMO: “Oh god, is it Saturday morning already? Christ I’ve got to go up the Manor and watch David Kemp try to assemble something resembling a football team again.”
Girlfriend: “Why do you do it if you don’t enjoy it? Why don’t you just stay here? I’ll make you breakfast in bed, then we can go to the cinema, have a nice meal, a few drinks, it’ll be lovely.”
FMO: “Nah. I’ve got to go. I’d feel like I should be somewhere else all day if I don’t.”
Girlfriend: “Please yourself. But if you go I won’t be here when you get back.”
FMO: “Sorry I didn’t catch that – I’m gonna miss my train. Talk later. Yellows!”
Ex-Girlfriend: “What a mental.”
That’s the mentality of the real football fan and as I say, it is slightly odd and those that don’t subscribe to our strange passion often wonder why we do it.
Well, we all know why, don’t we? The feeling of belonging to something, being a part of a group, is of course a very strong bond. The camaraderie between others around you that you see every week but wouldn’t probably have even considered socialising with were it not for your mutual love of Oxford. The shared experience of the many, many, (way too many) disappointments makes the elation felt and shared in the highs all the more enjoyable. A passing fan could not enjoy the promotion party at Wembley as much as we did because they never felt the lows of all the Tonbridge Angels and Droylsdens.
Quite simply – the glory-hunters would never understand nor be able to appreciate the joy of supporting a team like Oxford on anything like as many levels as we can as regulars through the turnstiles.
That’s right – this is deep intellectual stuff right here. Feel good about it.
And up those U’s!
On Being a Fan...Football fans are funny creatures. It takes a certain slightly-odd mindset to be one.
I’m not talking about the people that turn up to the pub on a Sunday afternoon in ‘their’ Premiership team’s current replica shirt, have some mild banter with like-minded people in other team’s shirts as they watch their teams battle it out for Premiership seniority on Sky.
No, I don’t mean these kind of people. It’s very easy to be this kind of person. All it takes after all is a trip to JJB Sports, £50 for the shirt and perhaps a lobotomy. These Shirt-wearing, TV-watching, “I’ve never been north of Birmingham but my heart is at Old Trafford” types are not football fans in my eyes. The terminology I use for them is ‘watchers’ of the game.
A real football fan – or supporter, or follower or whatever you wish to call yourself – is someone who has a team they love, normally for a reason other than “they are quite good” or “I like the way they play”, and as often as they are able to they actually go and watch them play. You know, pay money and walk through one of those turnstile thingummies and actually sit in the ground. Someone like you and me (assuming you are reading this at the game and haven’t picked up this programme in a jumble sale in a few years time that is. If you have, you have probably got yourself a real bargain – nice one).
Now, what makes us do this, I don’t know. For all the distaste I sometimes feel for the glory-hunters, you have to admit that to an outsider, it makes a lot more sense to be sat at home watching it on your sofa, or in a nice warm pub with a frothing lager in your hand, and to be supporting a team that wins the trophies every season.
So what is it that makes thousands of people still stream through the turnstiles every week here to watch Fourth-tier football? Surely the easiest solution to frequently being guffawed at by the ignorant Premiership fans in the pub is to get down to JJB, get that replica shirt and join them in their title-winning revelries.
What an easy retort it would be to the Man Utd fan boasting about how great their team are to say “Well actually, I have just decided I support Spain, who are better than Man Utd and current World Champions. I have based this decision on nothing more than that they are really good, and retain the right to change my mind if they start being rubbish again and support someone else. So ner ner nah ner ner!”
But we don’t do that, do we? Instead most of us come back week after week, regardless of how good or bad Oxford results have been, regardless of who Oxford are playing, regardless even of what division or standard of football Oxford are playing in.
That kind of loyalty is of course a wonderful thing – but it is you must admit, also an odd thing. At times it’s also a loyalty that keeps you going to watch them when you’ve not even enjoying the experience.
Although in recent years we have certainly been right-royally entertained by our current crop of stars, I don’t need to tell anyone who has been coming for years that the majority of the last decade has been less than value-for-money entertainment.
I lost count of how many Saturday mornings I spent less in anticipation of an exciting afternoon of football, but more in grudging acceptance that I simply had to go up and watch them play crap football out of ‘duty’. Many a day I left a nice warm bed and passed up the chance to do something else that afternoon that might not have put me in a foul mood or left me shivering on a cold terrace and contracting food poisoning from a manky burger.
FMO: “Oh god, is it Saturday morning already? Christ I’ve got to go up the Manor and watch David Kemp try to assemble something resembling a football team again.”
Girlfriend: “Why do you do it if you don’t enjoy it? Why don’t you just stay here? I’ll make you breakfast in bed, then we can go to the cinema, have a nice meal, a few drinks, it’ll be lovely.”
FMO: “Nah. I’ve got to go. I’d feel like I should be somewhere else all day if I don’t.”
Girlfriend: “Please yourself. But if you go I won’t be here when you get back.”
FMO: “Sorry I didn’t catch that – I’m gonna miss my train. Talk later. Yellows!”
Ex-Girlfriend: “What a mental.”
That’s the mentality of the real football fan and as I say, it is slightly odd and those that don’t subscribe to our strange passion often wonder why we do it.
Well, we all know why, don’t we? The feeling of belonging to something, being a part of a group, is of course a very strong bond. The camaraderie between others around you that you see every week but wouldn’t probably have even considered socialising with were it not for your mutual love of Oxford. The shared experience of the many, many, (way too many) disappointments makes the elation felt and shared in the highs all the more enjoyable. A passing fan could not enjoy the promotion party at Wembley as much as we did because they never felt the lows of all the Tonbridge Angels and Droylsdens.
Quite simply – the glory-hunters would never understand nor be able to appreciate the joy of supporting a team like Oxford on anything like as many levels as we can as regulars through the turnstiles.
That’s right – this is deep intellectual stuff right here. Feel good about it.
And up those U’s!
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