From the old wooden seats of the Jelfry stand any distracted
spectator can look out over the lumbering slopes of Gloucestershire fields.
Fans of Cheltenham Town may be forgiven for staring into the surrounding cider
country more so than at the sport being played for their pleasure this season.
With one win in ten games, the Robins find themselves at
the bottom of the Football League. “We’re all in this together,” reads the sign
outside the railway station, accompanied by a photo of the players in a team
huddle above the ominous slogan. Another billboard in sight of Whaddon Road
boastfully declares “Better than Manchester United – at least we beat
Cambridge.”
These adverts were paid for by supporters but if the descent
towards the Conference continues few individuals will feel their investment was
well spent. At the relatively cheap price of £9 for a student ticket, the club
already seem rather desperate for bodies to fill the ground.
With fellow strugglers Hartlepool United resurrected by a
miraculous run of form in recent weeks, Cheltenham seem doomed to a period of
exile from the prestigious 92 for the first time in 16 years. At least this
genteel community can realistically survive the dip in soccer pedigree, whereas
the likes of other League Two minnows would find the experience socially
crippling. This spa town, of course, can still attract annual visitors and the
hubbub of an active sporting life through its races, boarding schools (rugger
and jolly hockey!) and calm pastoral hinterland. The likes of Tranmere cannot
compete with that.
Without doubt, however, there is no way to disguise the
disarray of this once-stalwart football team. So far this season it’s seen
three managers at the helm, over 40 players used in total and yet, despite a
six game unbeaten run at the start of August, all have failed to steer the ship
from perilous inadequacy. After 39 games, the team’s top scorer still only has
four goals to their name.
Whaddon Road’s pitch is also making no effort to hide its
tired wear. Both goalmouths, evidently feeling the effects of another year
groundsharing with Gloucester City, have the look of sandboxes. A resultant drop
in revenues from relegation would only deteriorate the condition of the turf further
next year. After five seasons of the neighbouring rivals staking a joint claim on
the stadium’s modest resources, it looks like the uncomfortable cooperation
between clubs will continue indefinitely.
By late March, the usual point when fans resign themselves
to disappointment before the inevitable optimism of the summer holidays, the
atmosphere in the stands has settled into the pangs of lethargic
hopelessness. With solid professionals of proven lower league calibre like Matt
Richards on the books, the side can appear deceptively competent for long
stretches. Once they are faced with any amount of skill, though, the red and
white shirts flounder. Such was the case when Plymouth defender Carl McHugh
strolled through a number of sleeping opponents to slide Ruben Reid through to
score with the simplest of passes. As the group of typical terrace blokes
sitting behind me pointed out, travelling teams such as Argyll can snatch the
points at this beleaguered site without straining above third gear. A double
from the muscular centre forward was enough to destroy any confidence remaining among the home
side, leaving substitute Zak Ansah to mark a resounding victory with a deft
header as the final whistle beckoned.
A three goal margin showed the Devon side handing their
south-west counterparts the dreaded Black Spot, much to the amusement of a
spiteful minority amongst the massive away support (1400 in all – covering over
a third of the total attendance) who chanted “You’re going down” to no tune in
particular. Lone voices offered the only retort to the Green Army’s taunts. A
plain fact is hard to argue with, I suppose.
Indeed, the spirit of Cheltenham’s advertised rallying call
was lost on the disaffected home mass, which appeared largely docile across the
ninety minutes. A year outside the pyramid has seemingly been accepted as a certainty.
Even so, at least the club’s board remain fighting – appointing ex-Yeovil boss
Gary Johnson as manager within 48 hours of the defeat. If, for the sake of
pragmatics, this friendly community club does get relegated, they will have to
prepare for a long struggle in the wilderness. They need only ask fans of
Wrexham, Lincoln and Grimsby how that feels.
No comments:
Post a Comment