When DoDtS e-mailed me with details of the cheap train offer to Stockport way back last October I'd actually written a reply to say thanks but I was giving that one a miss.
In fact, sixteen quid to Stockport and back was just too good to turn down and after giving it a thought, oh for at least two minutes, it was booked and the reply rewritten.
By the time I had returned around half eight on Saturday I can honestly say I'd have to be paid sixteen pounds to even reconsider going back, well, maybe I'd visit the Royal Oak pub.
The day started well. The Virgin train left on time, their was no engineering works on the line, I had a seat next to the cafe, the toilets worked, (not that I tried them all!)
I was also surrounded by the fittest bunch of Aussie birds I'd seen away from the Bondi. It seems they were a hockey team off to play a fixture in Manchester. Yes, they chatted insistently in that annoying Aussie twang for the whole two hours, the captain brushing past me on several occasions to check on the health of the team. It was tough, but I lived with it.
Stockport is a strange place. Streets and buildings hinting of better times under Queen Victoria, the present economic reality shown by a splendid new block of flats lying empty except for the odd squatter popping his head out.
Plenty of pubs though, many closed or obviously in trouble, how long can the proud Robinsons name last before it joins others in moving away from it's home town?
The Royal Oak, ten minutes from Edgley Park, was open for business and a few Shrimpers were already there when I arrived, many more had joined as I left. The mood being one of confidence after the epic games against Chelsea.
Tilly was to keep with the more defensive line-up he'd played in those games, which was good, however it was not to work out the way we hoped. After a first 20 where the only action was off the pitch, 20 minutes later we were two down and down to ten men. The game was as good as lost, though Revell, practically on his own at times, tried to haul as back in during the second half, a Stockport third still always seemed more likely and that proved to be the case.
More on the actual match here: www.southendunited-mad.co.uk/news/loadnews.asp?cid=TMNW&id=427572
As for events off the pitch I see in the last 48 hours the Shrimpers Trust are taking up the baton in rightly complaining about the outrageous stewarding that took place and originally stated in my match report linked to above. Best of luck, I will certainly add my name to any correspondence hopefully on it's way to both clubs.
I knew they'd be problems as soon as I arrived at the relatively early time for me of 14.30. We all knew Stockport had an open away end, the forecast was for heavy showers. The irony was they tried to help by placing supporters in the Popular Stand end, shared with Stockport supporters, however the seats allocated looked full with thirty minutes to kick-off. Sadly, they then didn't have the quality of staff to react to any change from Plan A. Will clubs ever learn from lessons of the past?
Being at the heart of the storm so to speak, as well as talking to a decent steward at half time, yes there were a couple there, here's how it fell apart.
1) More Shrimpers turned up than planned; The club had expected around 360 Southend supporters. In fact around 400 did. (Excuse the numbers if wrong, but accept the basic premise that more away fans turned up than expected.) And the majority of those extra 40 turned up minutes before the start, some even after.
Still, no problem if the head steward, a complete tosser of the first order, had showed some imagination, he choose not to. It might be, as a tosser, he just acted like tossers do, however there could be an added reason. The previous home game had been against Leeds and, not surprisingly, attracted their biggest home gate of the season, over 10,000, of which 3,600 were Leeds supporters. They took over the away open end as well as most of the Popular Stand. They stood, most of them, for the whole game, as they did at Roots Hall. Thirty odd Stockport stewards, most drafted in from the local shopping mall, were not going to tell them to sit down.
In came True Blues's crew, drum and all. Now I have no wish to stand, I've reached a certain age and like to sit down. They looked up, my row had six free seats, it was an oasis of space, it was 15.05, the fact there was a few more than six of them didn't matter, in they came, all of them. "Sorry mate", as I moved to the now one remaining seat at the end of the row, "you'll have a great time". Oh shit, I thought.
However, the family behind, all having to stand up to see anything, was in good spirits and I decided not to be an old curmudgeon and stand in unity, well, sit on the edge of my seat anyway.
Then the lack of imagination really kicked in as quick as the barked out orders of "sit down".
1) It didn't rain; Weather forecasts, don't you luv 'em?! They could have led the late comers, or anyone else who wanted, to the open away end. If the conditions changed we showed at Yeovil we can cope.
2) Release more seats; I appreciate the need to keep supporters apart but there were at least 800 seats free in the middle. Two complete sections.
We're talking about a row or two, even just the end two seats all the way down. Millwall showed how this should be handled last season in the evening game, they did have a Plan B. (Or stewards properly trained.)
Either of these and no problem, and though we'll not completely innocent, Essex diplomacy is not famous around the world, how events turned out must be the responsibility of Stockport County FC.
Though there were several supporters standing in the middle of our section it was far easier to just ask the ones at the end of the row. Some did, some didn't, some couldn't, because standing was the only way to see the game. True Blue was the first to go, followed by the several others.
Fans were asked for a word, never to be seen again. Gear were left, the odd handbag, eventually the drum was there, all on it's own. Some of us didn't have to stand anymore as there was now plenty of space. Words were exchanged all through the game between fans and stewards who just wouldn't change their policy.
With the game going against us moods darkened as much as the skies. The performances of Herd and Revell were trying their hardest to give us something to cheer and for 20 odd minutes we actually believed we might nick a point, it was not to be but good the fans at the end stood up and applauded the team.
Then for some reason I got involved. The third Stockport goal followed by the Dad of the previously quiet family behind me shouting, "Don't touch my son" several times over as a steward grabbed his son's shoulder will live with me for a long time. It shook the steward, a big bloke with a desperate dan jaw, and it shook me, shook me into making my own bizarre protest.
I just exploded at this steward at the back of the stand as we entered stoppage time. "Your a wanker, do you know that?", right in his face. Brilliant, not sure what answer I expected.
He pushed me back into a seat, then out of nowhere several Shrimpers turned up, I hadn't seen them before, some shaven headed and not to be messed with, one, with hair, exploded. Shit, I really thought it was going to take off. "Your a effiing bully, pushing children and old blokes with glasses. Come on, pick on me." That steward, as I said a very big bloke, just froze, he looked very very scared. He called for help. It turned up and a new guy, he had a black jacket so obviously important, verbally took our guy on but he wouldn't back down. "You lot are just effing bullies", just kept getting louder and louder.
Then I realised I was the only one I could see wearing glasses, bollocks, was I the old bloke, oh well, shouldn't have been there, the final whistle went and I decided it was safer to applaud the Southend side than trying to knock 20 years off my age. I don't think any blows actually landed, but close, very close and they only have had themselves to blame if it had.
DoDtS's 'Back in Time' article wrote about troubles against Stockport 42 years ago, the place is obviously cursed! (www.thelittlegazette.com/news/loadsngl.asp?cid=EDY3)
As I left the ground, and it had to happen of course, the heavens opened. It really pissed down.
I worried for the train but it arrived on time. Same seat, but no fit Aussie birds this time, just unfit Shrimpers playing cards.
The toilet didn't work.
(No individual player comments this week. Click on to the match report for player markings. Alex Revell was the highest marked Blues player with 8 and Francis looks a better centre half than right back!)
In fact, sixteen quid to Stockport and back was just too good to turn down and after giving it a thought, oh for at least two minutes, it was booked and the reply rewritten.
By the time I had returned around half eight on Saturday I can honestly say I'd have to be paid sixteen pounds to even reconsider going back, well, maybe I'd visit the Royal Oak pub.
The day started well. The Virgin train left on time, their was no engineering works on the line, I had a seat next to the cafe, the toilets worked, (not that I tried them all!)
I was also surrounded by the fittest bunch of Aussie birds I'd seen away from the Bondi. It seems they were a hockey team off to play a fixture in Manchester. Yes, they chatted insistently in that annoying Aussie twang for the whole two hours, the captain brushing past me on several occasions to check on the health of the team. It was tough, but I lived with it.
Stockport is a strange place. Streets and buildings hinting of better times under Queen Victoria, the present economic reality shown by a splendid new block of flats lying empty except for the odd squatter popping his head out.
Plenty of pubs though, many closed or obviously in trouble, how long can the proud Robinsons name last before it joins others in moving away from it's home town?
The Royal Oak, ten minutes from Edgley Park, was open for business and a few Shrimpers were already there when I arrived, many more had joined as I left. The mood being one of confidence after the epic games against Chelsea.
Tilly was to keep with the more defensive line-up he'd played in those games, which was good, however it was not to work out the way we hoped. After a first 20 where the only action was off the pitch, 20 minutes later we were two down and down to ten men. The game was as good as lost, though Revell, practically on his own at times, tried to haul as back in during the second half, a Stockport third still always seemed more likely and that proved to be the case.
More on the actual match here: www.southendunited-mad.co.uk/news/loadnews.asp?cid=TMNW&id=427572
As for events off the pitch I see in the last 48 hours the Shrimpers Trust are taking up the baton in rightly complaining about the outrageous stewarding that took place and originally stated in my match report linked to above. Best of luck, I will certainly add my name to any correspondence hopefully on it's way to both clubs.
I knew they'd be problems as soon as I arrived at the relatively early time for me of 14.30. We all knew Stockport had an open away end, the forecast was for heavy showers. The irony was they tried to help by placing supporters in the Popular Stand end, shared with Stockport supporters, however the seats allocated looked full with thirty minutes to kick-off. Sadly, they then didn't have the quality of staff to react to any change from Plan A. Will clubs ever learn from lessons of the past?
Being at the heart of the storm so to speak, as well as talking to a decent steward at half time, yes there were a couple there, here's how it fell apart.
1) More Shrimpers turned up than planned; The club had expected around 360 Southend supporters. In fact around 400 did. (Excuse the numbers if wrong, but accept the basic premise that more away fans turned up than expected.) And the majority of those extra 40 turned up minutes before the start, some even after.
2) Human Nature; 6,000 away fans at Chelsea found their seat trouble free, we had seat numbers. At Stockport we didn't and to the eternal credit of the human race, we don't always act logically. We will take seats at the end of a row, if on are own we'll take up two seats to gain more space, a coat or a bag will be placed on a free seat, a number of supporting pillars will impede our view, and so on. The exact number of fans expected might not have found a decent seat, let alone a few more.
Still, no problem if the head steward, a complete tosser of the first order, had showed some imagination, he choose not to. It might be, as a tosser, he just acted like tossers do, however there could be an added reason. The previous home game had been against Leeds and, not surprisingly, attracted their biggest home gate of the season, over 10,000, of which 3,600 were Leeds supporters. They took over the away open end as well as most of the Popular Stand. They stood, most of them, for the whole game, as they did at Roots Hall. Thirty odd Stockport stewards, most drafted in from the local shopping mall, were not going to tell them to sit down.
Imagine yourself in the stewards shoes, difficult I know but try; your shouted at by the wife at home, you may have no wife, in fact no friends at all, you may have been bullied at school and not being intelligent enough to pass the local referee exam, you choose stewarding at your local club. It gives you status, a uniform, a social life of sorts, and it's easy, you even get told what to do. Suddenly 3,000 plus ugly Yorkshiremen turn up and tell you what their going to do. It's not nice. 360 odd Southend supporters must have looked far easier.
In came True Blues's crew, drum and all. Now I have no wish to stand, I've reached a certain age and like to sit down. They looked up, my row had six free seats, it was an oasis of space, it was 15.05, the fact there was a few more than six of them didn't matter, in they came, all of them. "Sorry mate", as I moved to the now one remaining seat at the end of the row, "you'll have a great time". Oh shit, I thought.
However, the family behind, all having to stand up to see anything, was in good spirits and I decided not to be an old curmudgeon and stand in unity, well, sit on the edge of my seat anyway.
Then the lack of imagination really kicked in as quick as the barked out orders of "sit down".
1) It didn't rain; Weather forecasts, don't you luv 'em?! They could have led the late comers, or anyone else who wanted, to the open away end. If the conditions changed we showed at Yeovil we can cope.
2) Release more seats; I appreciate the need to keep supporters apart but there were at least 800 seats free in the middle. Two complete sections.
We're talking about a row or two, even just the end two seats all the way down. Millwall showed how this should be handled last season in the evening game, they did have a Plan B. (Or stewards properly trained.)
Either of these and no problem, and though we'll not completely innocent, Essex diplomacy is not famous around the world, how events turned out must be the responsibility of Stockport County FC.
Though there were several supporters standing in the middle of our section it was far easier to just ask the ones at the end of the row. Some did, some didn't, some couldn't, because standing was the only way to see the game. True Blue was the first to go, followed by the several others.
Fans were asked for a word, never to be seen again. Gear were left, the odd handbag, eventually the drum was there, all on it's own. Some of us didn't have to stand anymore as there was now plenty of space. Words were exchanged all through the game between fans and stewards who just wouldn't change their policy.
With the game going against us moods darkened as much as the skies. The performances of Herd and Revell were trying their hardest to give us something to cheer and for 20 odd minutes we actually believed we might nick a point, it was not to be but good the fans at the end stood up and applauded the team.
Then for some reason I got involved. The third Stockport goal followed by the Dad of the previously quiet family behind me shouting, "Don't touch my son" several times over as a steward grabbed his son's shoulder will live with me for a long time. It shook the steward, a big bloke with a desperate dan jaw, and it shook me, shook me into making my own bizarre protest.
I just exploded at this steward at the back of the stand as we entered stoppage time. "Your a wanker, do you know that?", right in his face. Brilliant, not sure what answer I expected.
He pushed me back into a seat, then out of nowhere several Shrimpers turned up, I hadn't seen them before, some shaven headed and not to be messed with, one, with hair, exploded. Shit, I really thought it was going to take off. "Your a effiing bully, pushing children and old blokes with glasses. Come on, pick on me." That steward, as I said a very big bloke, just froze, he looked very very scared. He called for help. It turned up and a new guy, he had a black jacket so obviously important, verbally took our guy on but he wouldn't back down. "You lot are just effing bullies", just kept getting louder and louder.
Then I realised I was the only one I could see wearing glasses, bollocks, was I the old bloke, oh well, shouldn't have been there, the final whistle went and I decided it was safer to applaud the Southend side than trying to knock 20 years off my age. I don't think any blows actually landed, but close, very close and they only have had themselves to blame if it had.
DoDtS's 'Back in Time' article wrote about troubles against Stockport 42 years ago, the place is obviously cursed! (www.thelittlegazette.com/news/loadsngl.asp?cid=EDY3)
As I left the ground, and it had to happen of course, the heavens opened. It really pissed down.
I worried for the train but it arrived on time. Same seat, but no fit Aussie birds this time, just unfit Shrimpers playing cards.
The toilet didn't work.
(No individual player comments this week. Click on to the match report for player markings. Alex Revell was the highest marked Blues player with 8 and Francis looks a better centre half than right back!)