Bristol Rovers vs Barnet

Bristol Rovers 2 - 1 Barnet   (25.11.2014)

Lashings of rain beat down on the Memorial Stadium for a game of football which could have come straight out of a kitchen-sink drama. Domestic sport does not get any more dramatic than this brilliant encounter. With a minute to go, the atrocious weather looked set to be nothing more than pathetic fallacy and a tormentor of we humble supporters. That is, until a last minute winner sent the soaked anoraks of devoted disciples into a frenzy of commotion. Bristol Rovers, that perennial outfit of misfits and hoofers, had actually managed to claim a crucial victory. Barnet will still win the league at a canter but, by God, these lads pulled the rug from under their feet with relish.

Few fans were perturbed by the cold when Rovers made a rip-roaring start that saw the home side take the early advantage against the runaway Conference leaders. Barnet's defenders were all at sea when a slick pass through to Matty Taylor saw him crash the ball under the away 'keepers flaying legs.

For the rest of the  half, the Gas dominated the Bees with miraculously flowing football, despite the monsoon conditions. It was the most enjoyment I have had at a match in years. There was a real "oof" to the atmosphere and for once the players in blue and white did not disappoint. But by half time the weather worsened and a series of controversial incidents looked to overshadow a rollicking 45 minutes of fierce competition.

When a Rovers corner came sweeping into the box, a looped shot sent one of the Barnet defenders sprawling back towards his goal line. A desperate swivel of the body diverted the ball away from the net. Was it by head or hand? Referee said yay to a penalty, while his linesman - to the home support's apoplexy - said nay. The assistant won the argument and play resumed without the obligatory spot-kick and sending off. On first witnessing it, my instinct said head. But the more I think about the way the defender's arm waved in front of his face, I have to question my reasoning. Either it was a blatant act of cheating or the greatest defensive header I have ever seen. Without a television replay, who can know for sure? Certainly not a guy with rain-smeared spectacles and a notorious lack of awareness.

Before the break Barnet reaped the rewards of their fortune. A free-kick from twenty yards was comfortably stroked into the bottom corner, with the Pirates' goalie Steve Mildenhall relegated to the role of a helpless observer.

At that stage there was no escape from the downpour. Those of us in the East terrace were drowning under the deluge, so much so that by the ninetieth minute fans around me were hoping to skip the necessary injury time and get home that extra few minutes earlier. By the end they were all glad they stayed. Another corner fell into a blundering melee in the Barnet box. Somehow - and I really am clueless as to how it happened - the ball crossed the line. Damp celebrations ensued before the final whistle blew moments later.

Of course, by then the game's early promise had totally disappeared, the second half being an ugly scrap where neither side looked bothered to run into the heavy rainfall. All I wanted to do was find the nearest towel and burrow deep into its soft lining. Alas, the almighty, in his incomprehensible wisdom, continued to urinate on his flock. At least, that is what I think causes rain.

It was a night of amazing triumph for this motley Rovers team. Perhaps this will inspire them to future success. In new addition Nathan Blissett, they at least have a striker who could work in tandem with Taylor, running at the opposition with pace and power. For them it was a great three points, and for me, the start of a terrible cold. Oh well.

Bristol Rovers vs Kidderminster Harriers

Bristol Rovers 1 - 1 Kidderminster Harriers   (15.11.2014)

The Memorial Stadium is soon to be a fitting name. If I could care to be pretentious, I might even call it ironic. When the bulldozers have completed their work and a monstrous supermarket is erected over the rubble, a memory is all that the stadium will be.

Unlike such lost arenas of sporting inspiration as Ayresome Park, Roker Park and Boothferry Park, this rectangular patch of grass is enclosed by a beautiful structure, a pillar of local identity; a lost relic to the days when football was about something more precious than money. It has not been a happy home for Bristol Rovers but many a classic rugby union battle has been fought on its turf. Alas, no longer.

Sadly, once the football ground is gone, my favourite part of living on Gloucester Road will be snatched away. After much thought, over many a long walk, I have decided that I do not like the area. In the early days I kidded myself about its cosmopolitan vibe; a sort of British San Francisco, as I naively claimed . It was on this road that I first saw a same-sex couple holding hands as they walked along in daylight. It is also the scene of my first conversational encounter with Pidgin English. These are things that I embrace wholeheartedly with delight.

Yet, the illusion has finally been eroded away. Every day I walk past depressing, disappointing, despairing social wrongs. Over a two mile stretch I pass countless Big Issue sellers. I hate to ignore their polite pleas but I simply don't have the time or money to help them - even if it is only to buy a magazine I will never read.

They are what I would call the legitimate beggars, though there are plenty who request money without valid reason. A number of people in perfect health, with permanent homes nearby, stop me and state their case. Each time I say no. One man, who lives in my sector of the street, has asked me over ten times for spare change. Does he have no memory of my answer the last time we talked? And why me? On a cold day, when I had no coat and he was well-wrapped in multiple layers, he asked me. In times when I have been standing amongst a group, he has asked me alone. When I am in the laundrette, and have clearly spent a fortune in coins on the dryer, he still asks me. How is anyone meant to make sense of that? Karl, Che', Malcolm: what is to be done?

The football is unique in bringing out salt of the earth sorts. Standing on the terraces, anonymous in the crowd, I feel more at home among them than wandering in this postcode. Our cultures are different but I know enough to blend in. Stokes Croft, Redland, Cotham and Clifton, on the other hand, remain inscrutable.

Without becoming a total disaster, Saturday's game remained a poor outcome for the Gas. A familiar pattern of early Rovers' pressure, then loss of confidence when scoring looked unlikely, and a sloppy goal concede from a set piece, was followed predictably. Matt Taylor (the centre forward, not the rocket scientist with a controversial taste in fashion) saved his team's blushes by equalising from a skidded low cross. Space on the left wing was there to be exploited, and this was where Kidderminster's defence crumbled under a late raid from the Pirates. It was good football, the best I have seen this season, in all fairness. Nevertheless, it still took Darrell Clarke's team over an hour to realise that their long ball tactics were proving counter-productive.

Despite the result, this strong late showing sent the home fans back to their dwellings in good spirits. Back on Gloucester Road - that most strange of thoroughfares - the Royal Oak pub (a quiet middle class establishment with inflated prices) displayed a sign which read 'Home fans only'. How odd. Are Kidderminster's small assortment of travelling support likely to make a scene? In this division you would be lucky if you got 50 away fans, nevermind enough to cause a serious civil disturbance.

Bristol Rovers vs Forest Green Rovers

Bristol Rovers 0 - 1 Forest Green Rovers  (18.10.2014)

My, my, my, the West Terrace were not happy with this result. Two different referees came and went, departing with bellowed boos ringing in their ears. A ceaseless sequence of soft fouls, compounded by the dubious sending-off of the home team's right back, propelled the crowd into an attitude of stern recalcitrance. The world is against Bristol Rovers, or is it rather that, on this particular day, a rough and tumble derby was squeezed out of their nervous grasp.

How could I resist the autumnal bite of this hot-headed encounter? Gamesmanship, the bane of all downtrodden football supporters, was in full flow to the extent that my jaw locked into a type of gurn which similarly afflicts thousands of lower league devotees every weekend. Yet my own mildly feigned indignance was no match for the old man standing next to me. With each tweet of the referee's whistle, this moody codger swayed his head back and forth with the fury of a Hong Kong action flick. As the match stumbled to an irritating climax, I was seriously wary of the danger from a geriatric headbutt.

Bristolians react in strange ways to football, most of which are hilarious. One excited chap, for instance, moaned with a bovine variation on the classic "ooh!" with every close call to the goal. To my own private delight, Matty Taylor's wayward shots were greeted with a shriek of "moowaah!" every single time, without fail. Someone should have called DEFRA because it sounded like Mad Cow Disease had broken out in BS7.

In all fairness, the fans have every right to feel a little aggrieved, especially when over 7000 attended this mercifully forgetful game. The Gas are at a historic low and yet they still cannot score goals. For all his flaws, at least Matty Taylor creates chances for himself and his teammates. His positioning is good, he has the skills to run at defenders and the raw pace to get behind his opposite number. But, crucially, his finishing is awful.

Adam Cunnington, meanwhile, only feels the urge to stroll into the box about twice every match. For the rest of the ninety minutes he seems to attempt a faultless impersonation of the never-lamented Kevin Kyle. A lamp-post could make a more significant contribution to a team on this form than the lanky striker.

David Batty gets stuck in to his prey.

But hey, what do I know about football, anyway? As a committed student of the 'David Batty School of Footballing Excellence' I have never, nor actually wanted, to hit the ball in the back of the net. A crunching slide tackle is far more satisfying.

Speaking of the ex-England midfield enforcer, he would have been proud of Daniel Leadbitter's uncompromising challenge in the second half. Leadbitter, a son of the greatest city on Earth, struck his opponent with a forceful impact for a 50-50 ball - although there was no question of malice on his part. Sadly, you can't play like Batty anymore (you probably couldn't when he was still playing, to be honest), and the already unpopular referee made himself the most disliked man in Horfield by dismissing the Pirates' defender.

At that point the visitors were already one goal ahead after sloppy defending from a corner. It is not the first time I have written that sentence this season and, I daresay, it won't be the last. Until the goalkeeper learns how to catch high balls it will prove to be a continually damaging weakness.

The next match at the Memorial is not until November 15th so I will have to write about something else for a while. Maybe I might start that epic socialist novel I have been planning. Or not... Who knows? At least we get a three week holiday from the drudgery of more Conference action.

Bristol Rovers Vs Dartford

Bristol Rovers 1 - 0 Dartford   (09.10.2014)

An ugly incident unravelled towards the end of this tawdry encounter when visiting 'keeper Jason Brown, gesturing towards the North Terrace mob, complained of racist abuse. Brown spent at least two minutes vociferously protesting to the referee, his teammates, and stewards about a particular section or individual of the near crowd that he believed was the guilty party. BRFC officials say they are currently investigating the incident

Jason Brown accepting his country's call.

but nobody has yet been identified and prosecuted.

Up to that point, the chants from the crowd had been relatively good-natured, with the targeted individual even joining in with the chorus of 'Aahs!' after a goal kick. Much merriment was made of his pink shirt, although, even at these early jovial stages, I could sense a tipping point was imminent.

If ever there was a time for an old pro to think "what is the point?", it surely came for Brown on Tuesday night. With three senior Welsh international caps and a five year stint at Blackburn Rovers to his name, the 32 year-old must have wondered which sins he had committed to be suffering the abuse of idiotic bigots on a cold October night. Two years ago he was playing against Mexico in the soccer hubbub of New Jersey. Now he represents Dartford in a league where they would be ecstatic just to avoid relegation. Every so often, sport throws up a sad story of disappointment and unfulfilled glory: a real life Bull Durham, if you will. Jason Brown will stick in my mind as one of those melancholic footnotes as shouts rang around the Memorial Stadium of "Who the f***'s the black man in the pink?"

Juvenile school yard humour seemingly held a renaissance amongst the Gas' terraces, especially in relation to the unfortunately named Tom Bender, who felt the mockery of a small section of home fans. The incessant yapping of men old enough to know better stirred my own ire against a support base which behaved impeccably the previous Saturday. I wonder, do these immature twits shout at their television set every time Lars Bender controls the ball in the Champions League or German internationals? Of course, it is difficult to effectively ridicule a phenomenally successful professional sportsman, like the man who was initially selected for Germany's World Cup winning squad. A scrawny left back with foppish hair, plying his trade in the non-league, is a much easier target to pick on. As another famous Bender would say to these guys, they can "bite my shiny metal ass".

Over on the pitch, Rovers struggled through an uncomfortable ninety minutes where a scrappy Matty Taylor penalty was enough to shade their dogged Kentish opponents (the Pirates' second from that county in four days). With 37 minutes on the clock, Brown got two palms onto the under-fire striker's placed spot kick, but could only push it into the side netting.

Throughout the game both teams played some atrocious football which lacked any quality or efficiency. Miraculously, however, this win sends the Blues up to 4th place in the table, having been unbeaten in eight games. After such an impressive run, why does the team play like they have the world on their shoulders?

Stewie Sinclair, or perhaps 'Chewie' would be more appropriate with so much facial hair, is an exciting presence in midfield. Aside from his full-throttle approach, Bristol simply do not have the commitment to play triumphant football. I supect the next away game at Aldershot will test their mettle and cause them to buckle. By 5pm on Saturday we will know for certain.

Bristol Rover vs Dover Athletic

Bristol Rovers 1 - 1 Dover Athletic   4/10/2014

After two weeks of skating around Bristol's hip liberal sector, it was a nice surprise to finally meet the city's remaining white working class. For three hours on a Saturday, the cosmopolitan surroundings of Gloucester Road are swallowed by cider-swigging West Country folk. Suddenly the timid Gloucestershire twang becomes a full rumbling of potent accents from the deepest 'Mild West'. Here lies the proletariat underbelly, the blue collar pasty-munchers, the loyal few who keep football grounded north of the Avon.

As an outsider to these parts, my own alien ways can be lost in translation, as I found out all too easily from the locals. My friendly greeting of "alright guys" to the stewards was received with the same bewildered distaste as if I had said something disparaging about their mothers. Evidently, being a foreigner here takes a bit of getting used to. Perhaps I should have addressed them as "my lovely" instead, as is the case with the region's common tongue.

This was my first sighting of the Gas, my arrival inconveniently gatecrashing the club's lowest ebb, as they settle into the tough competition of the Conference. On a positive note, the tickets are cheap (£10 concession in the terrace) and this is perhaps one of the reasons Rovers' attendances have remained stable since their relegation. Over 6000 fans turned up on this sunny October afternoon to witness an entertaining draw between two fairly combative sides.

If the club have their way, this season could be the final bow for the Memorial Stadium. It has been the team's home since 1996 but plans are afoot to relocate the Pirates to an all-seater complex provisionally titled the UWE Stadium. Yikes - talk about negative association! And what is to become of the atmospheric, unique and well-portioned current ground? It will make way for a Sainsbury's superstore, say the planners.

The proposed UWE Stadium.

The loss of the Memorial Stadium will be a dagger through the heart of all neutral football enthusiasts like myself. There is no other place like it in the country, and if it is to be replaced by yet another out-of-town soulless monolith, the league/non-league pyramid will have lost another slice of its true character. Bristol's rugby team has already deserted the Horfield site in favour of settling with rivals Bristol City at Ashton Gate. The turncoat scoundrels! At least, however, it means the turf is rested between fixtures.

Nevertheless, this weekend the discussion inside the stands remained strictly related to on-pitch affairs. After only ninety minutes of frustrating fare for the home devotees, I am already up to speed with the current parlance among the faithful. 'Matty Taylor' and 'barn door' are frequently uttered in the same sentence, while 'play-offs' remain far more commonly breathed than 'promotion'. The team's recent form is inconsistent and lacks the outright superiority to see them reach the necessary heights for an immediate return to the Football League.

The unfortunate Taylor is a recent summer arrival from Forest Green Rovers but has only scored once in twelve appearances so far. Given a tantalising chance to put Rovers 2-0 up when through against the keeper, the young striker fluffed his lines and met the unforgiving condescension from the terraces. In all honesty, though, he was the worst offender of a side which looked bereft of confidence in both attack and defence. After one particularly horrendous backpass, the Bristol goalkeeper survived an early dismissal after bringing down the onrushing opponent through nothing more than an apparent mental lapse by the referee.

Dover stole an equaliser in added time from a set piece and heartbroken home fans left the ground grumbling under their breathe. When they find themselves in less charitable situations, the Conference new boys will find this league a tough challenge. From what I have seen, relegation could be a clear possibility.

I will be back to see more of Rovers' unfolding campaign soon. The real question is, after another two points dropped, whether the other 6000 fans will join me?

Premier League 2014-15 Predictions

Everything is at stake! Actually, only my pride is on the line but once I make these predictions my much-vaunted reputation will be in the balance. Here is how I think the Premier League table will look after all the fixtures are completed. I do not like the way it looks, except for where QPR find themselves.

 1. Manchester City

 2. Chelsea
 3. Liverpool
 4. Arsenal
 5. Manchester United
 6. Tottenham Hotspur
 7. Everton
 8. Newcastle United
 9. Stoke City
10. Southampton
11. Hull City
12. Sunderland
13. West Ham United
14. Aston Villa
15. Swansea City
16. West Bromwich Albion
17. Burnley
18. Q.P.R.
19. Crystal Palace
20. Leicester City

Manchester City successfully defend title
Even without a formidable defence, the Sky Blues have enough attacking options to deliver goals aplenty. Sergio Aguero's fitness is crucial, so too is Yaya Toure. As long as the club's stakeholders do not become too obsessed with European success, their domestic season should run smoothly.

Chelsea have too many superstars for my liking, with the signing of Diego Costa and Cesc Fabregas looking uncomfortably like the rather disappointing appearances of Michael Ballack and Andriy Shevchenko in 2006. Great individuals do not necessarily make for a better team.

Messy bottom half
Once again, the Premier League's bottom 12 placings are much more difficult to predict. Connor Wickham's goals will see Sunderland in a strong position whilst Burnley's hard work and endeavour will keep their heads just above the drop zone. The amount of time the Clarets have Sam Vokes and Danny Ings on the Turf Moor pitch together will be the deciding factor in their season.

Swansea are dark horses for relegation. Last season they occasionally played decent football but Gary Monk remains a dubious appointment as team manager. However, Wilfried Bony and Gylfi Sigurdsson should be enough to keep them safe.

On the other hand, Crystal Palace and Leicester are the most likely candidates for a plummet into the lower divisions. Without Tony Pulis the Eagles are a flimsy rag-tag side. Despite a comfortable ascent to the Championship title last year, nothing about Leicester suggests they have a squad to compete at a higher level. No doubt Nigel Pearson has other ideas though.

2012 Legacy Lost in Basketball Cuts

Once again elite British basketball is penniless. Along with water polo and synchronised swimming, all funding from UK Sport has been axed from the national basketball programme. The uncompromising decision was made on the back of Team GB’s lack of medal prospects at future Olympic Games.

But sport is about more than winning and losing, with the removal of funding sure to affect all levels of basketball in Britain, for spectators and participants alike. Without the annual £7 million  cash injection, it will become increasingly difficult to cultivate professional, semi-professional and amateur players as well as provide the infrastructure in which they can beat the odds and achieve their dreams – even if it is just to have fun every Friday evening.

For me, the British women’s team’s efforts at the 2012 London Olympic games were one of the highlights of that summer. It was a story of pluck and spirit, the kind of thing normally confined to cheesy American family films. The team automatically qualified for their first Olympic appearance because they represented the home nation.

Expectations were so low that some nervous commentators worried about a potentially miserable streak of humiliations pushed on the team. But although they lost every match in their group, the British ladies’ performances showed a determination which defied their lowly ranking and would have given any witnessing Briton a surfeit of pride.

Only three points after overtime separated Great Britain from the hotly-tipped France, who eventually took the silver medal. It was one of those unmistakable occasions when defeat is nothing more than the etchings in a history book; what really mattered was the inspiring performance. The most gutsy runner, Natalie Stafford, had a great game whilst sporting a black eye.

Speaking of the David vs Goliath match, former NBA star John Amaechi (himself a prefect case of basketball’s worthwhile contribution to British society) said “The efforts of this team have been enormous. Much has been said of the men's team taking opponents to the brink, but nothing they've done compares to this team's performance against France.”

"There can be no doubt from anybody who played in this tournament that GB deserved to play in this tournament."

Sadly for everyone involved, this year’s funding cut could mean that Team GB never plays at another Olympic games, based purely on how tough it is to qualify. All that British fans of the sport can do is ask the same critical question of the money-wielder’s current strategy: where is the legacy of 2012? The whole point of the London Olympics was to inspire young and old folks into sports just like basketball, but now the rug is being pulled from under their feet. The issue is particularly pressing in the case of female participation, whereby basketball offered a more athletic and, let’s face it, a more enjoyable alternative to netball at junior level.

Worst of all, the news spreads an unhealthy message that something is not worth doing unless you do it well. The morale of all the passionate people involved in this country’s basketball infrastructure must be at its lowest ebb, knowing that their hard work and enthusiasm is still going unappreciated. So what if their endeavours do not lead to trophies? Isn’t the opening of opportunities for passionate individuals justification enough?

Indeed, participation in schools has dramatically increased in recent years. More children are opting for hoops instead of goalposts and embracing the American game with their peers. Commenting to newspapers, British Basketball chairman Roger Moreland said “The basketball community at home and abroad will be aghast that this can happen again. It seems every barrier to progress for basketball originates in Britain; the very country that should be embracing the progress its basketball teams have achieved.”

“How can a system abandon a sport where 70 per cent of the participants are under the age of 25 and where around 50 per cent of those that play come from BME communities?"

York University boasts both men and women’s basketball teams. Neither are a stranger to the lack of insight from governing bodies when it comes to their sport. The current female Basketball President, Sophie Bennett, believes that neglect from the relevant authorities lies behind the move: “It is true that England have gone the wrong way about dealing with basketball, because the GB team didn't cross the t's or dot the i's, the whole of England has now begun to suffer. How do they expect a generation to get better if they won't help it?”

“Overall, the cut came as no surprise because England have always been so centralized around football that they can't begin to comprehend the rules behind another sport. But given England's display at the World Cup this year - do you think football will get a cut in funding? I'll bite my tongue at the thought of that.”

Basketball is being kicked into a corner at the moment when it looked set for a period of rude health in this country. Without the appropriate support and funding, there will not only be very little chance of Team GB improving its international standing in future tournaments but also creates another obstacle to laying the foundations for the development of the sport across the country.