RETFORD UNITED: MY PREVIOUS 5 VISITS, ALL IN THE PROMOTION SEASON 2008-09...

A Sunny September, A Stomping Stocksbridge, A Surly Scoundrel and A Man In Black

(A LIGHTHEARTED ACCOUNT...)

Retford United 2-1 Stocksbridge Park Steels

I was aware that the Cannon Park facilities were sparing but I wasn’t expecting such a fine grandstand… I was drawn to it instinctively, veering away from a likely Groundhopper who was mulling over the acquisition of a Retford scarf because he apparently ‘had to’. Fine. Then I noted the Hospitality Suite, a dull green hut…

Huts appear to be the stock buildings at non-league level, reminding me of the Primary School temporary but eventually permanent buildings of the 1970s and 1980s. There was a silo at Cannon Park too. Or a tank… Maybe it contained the secret diggings of an incumbent badger, or perhaps it was a costume for portly forward Mick Godber, appearing nightly as the ‘Tin Man’ in ‘The Wizard of Oz’ at the Retford Little Theatre…

I sat with my badger, The Bodging, to breathe in the northern Nottinghamshire air on a warm September afternoon, tractors and combine harvesters in full throttle and I mused on how England used to be before B&Q, Wilkinson’s and the closures of collieries. 

THE BODGING'S FIRST VISIT TO HIS REAL HOME...

Both squads were warming up and Stocksbridge Park Steels, including one JAMIE VARDY of course looked eager to prepare for the fray but Retford appeared to be less organised. Coach Neil Tooth was profane, if purposeful, leading the motley and cursing crew in a series of knee and heel lifts, followed by piggy-backs. Fortunately, robust brick shithouse striker Mick Godber was probably still straining to tie his bootlaces at this time and his unsuspecting colleagues were therefore not subjected to bulk cement landing heavily upon their slender frames. The Badgers had certainly created a great deal of noise and sputum during their warm-up, accompanied by the strained scraping sound like a snoring sow with sinusitis as the projectiles were loaded into throats for flobbing. 

YES, YELLOW SHIRT, NUMBER 9, JAMIE VARDY...
MICK GODBER TAKES A DRINK AND WOULD WIN THE GAME FOR THE BADGERS...

Godber then jogged infield and found the lifting of heels and thighs just a little too demanding and simply, well, kind of ‘jogged’, I guess… Then he stopped completely and utilised his ‘assistant’ role to ‘discuss matters’, thereby avoiding the irritation of being physical and also the embarrassment of piggy-back partner demolition. Coach Tooth’s next direct and rather technical preparation was bellowed loudly and entitled: “Have a stretch and let’s get the fuckin’ balls out…” 

I liked the random abject Union flag from Stocksbridge, the St George’s cross, yellow not red, with ‘Steels’ emblazoned across the horizontal band and some of their followers sat near me in the stand. The Bodging hid in my bag. I thought: “J’ai un blaireau dans mon sac.” (There is a badger in my bag, a phrase I have used in small shops in France which creates a little confusion…) 

I am fairly certain that the Steels people were friends or relatives of Lovell and Sidebottom from the visitors’ line-up but I mused on the length and condition of Retford’s reserve goalkeeper’s hair, making him appear like he had just been led away from fixing the ballcock in someone’s lavatory, or was auditioning for the part of Shaggy in Scooby Doo’s new Gothic movie. He sported lank hair, long shorts, gloves like those giant hands waved by fans at an American basketball game and the facial expression of a Victorian hayforker.

There was a sign to the side of the stand, instructing people not to stand on the bank. Bank? This was a yard of tufted verge… And there was a gate. It was ajar… I wanted to enter the Secret Garden beyond. Was this the legendary Mr McGregor’s garden of Beatrix Potter fame? Intrigued, I had peered through, earlier; it was a wreck of weed and thorn, foliage and nettle, as far as I could ascertain: a veritable badger’s adventure playground… I had covered The Bodging’s eyes and felt comfortable that he was ‘dans mon sac’.

And then he arrived. A bald Steels fan with a ‘Jeux Sans Frontieres’ giant’s head, a gaping mouth, an absence of neck and a souped up loudspeaker for a conversational tone. He sat next to a friend, who soon abandoned the newcomer to stand, yes, on the bank actually… 

My new neighbour spread his buttocks across two chairs and rolled cigarettes which were surprisingly not bothersome to me and he laughingly exclaimed to a young woman in polite discussions, “That’s you buggered then…” after learning of her pregnancy. That’s funny then, obviously…  As a gold bracelet shook on his right wrist, the creature began to boom his encouragement at the Stocksbridge players, like “Hoof it… That’ll do…” 

The tannoy system was vaguely reminiscent of the dulcet tones of a school’s summer fete compere, using a megaphone. We were told that after a fast reading of the personnel, he would repeat the teams more slowly, probably at Godber pace, just before kick-off, but in the meantime, they would be posted on the floor, outside the bar, no doubt to be closely scrutinised by an exiting crumpling drunkard. We also learned that Godber was sponsored by the Jellybeans Company. You just couldn’t make it up could you?

The bloke sitting next to me was in full voice by this time; “He’s a bleeding arsehole, isn’t he, that ref?” then aimed words at Coach Tooth: “Sit down you dumpling…” The Steels’ coach must have thought that bellowing was fair game and he screamed at his defence, “Keep the fuckin’ thing in play…”

After the break, my neighbour was still galloping down food, when a Retford defender blasted a clearance towards him, maybe having marked him out as a fine and possibly unmissable target and the player was duly admonished: “Mind my chips…” 

When Retford equalised, the Steels fan shook and yelled: “He had that much space, he could’ve pitched a tent…”

Retford’s female physio’ carried a red carrier bag to the dugout. I have no further comment. The Steels’ coach was nearly apoplectic by the midpoint of the second-half and turned towards the stand, took an almighty kick at the surrounding fence whilst lamenting, “Fuck me, PASS it…”

Some youngsters, possibly ball-boys, were kicking a ball around behind an end wall and it had looped over onto the pitch a couple of times already but when Retford’s ‘keeper spotted their ball on the pitch, he raced left out of his goal and bladdered it into touch, nearly taking the head off a supporter, forcing his female partner, in charge of a pushchair to take similar evasive action. Power it lacked none. 

When Godber decided to take the Stocksbridge ‘keeper out of the game by basically falling on him, straight-jackets were needed by the Steels’ coaching staff and scuffles broke out between players as a couple of tackles became juicier and the referee, acting like he was cool on dope or something, just chatted to offenders, like good citizenship procedures in Primary Schools. The visitors replaced their goalkeeper with a novice, who had to acquire the limping first-choice’s jersey and Retford went for the kill. The injured custodian was applauded by the Steels fans but he ignored them, cursed, swore and began kicking something inside the dugout…

My neighbour was confident that Stocksbridge were going to win or draw, “I can feel it in me bones…” Godber failed to pass right, the ball bobbled at his feet, he kept trotting and slotted a lovely winning goal, just as five minutes of injury time began. Silence from my neighbour. The game was up. But the man in black had seen enough. The fan climbed over several seats to exit and I mused on his presence.

I reckon the chap sitting behind me was the referee’s assessor and he wore a black suit, plus dark glasses. When the referee reached the height of his charming ability to totally piss everybody off and abuse was darting at him from many directions, I turned to the guy and raised my eyebrows. He barely managed a wry smile. 

The Bodging stayed in his bag, although he nearly escaped into Sherwood Forest when I stopped to urinate on my return journey to Solihull. 

And his team of Badgers had won…

Retford 1 Stamford 1 (2008-09)

The match referee was heavily criticised for his enthusiastic performance at Cannon Park. He perhaps allowed for the slippery surface when Stamford ‘keeper Davies conceded a penalty by upending the speedy Grimes as the striker looked ready to open the scoring and merely showing Davies a yellow card. Many other officials would have dismissed the visiting custodian. 

Later challenges by Retford’s players in particular were more harshly punished by cautions, regardless of the surface, leading to the grumbling Badger Fisher being dismissed, soon after the legendary Mick Godber had netted from the penalty spot. 

Late in the second-half, Stamford skipper Gray hauled Grimes back again, being the last defender but only a booking was collected by the obviously relieved offender. Retford failed to cope with being a man short, Stamford dominated the proceedings but despite deserving to win the game, their woeful finishing and some heroic defending by the out of sorts Badgers, led to each team claiming a point and thus the referee went home wearing the mantle of a despised individual… 

Retford United 2 Belper Town 3 (2008-09)

A RARE MOMENT OF ANGER FOR MR SIMPKINS...

Despite overhauling Belper’s early lead to dominate much of the first-half of the game, Retford conceded an equaliser in the early stages of the second period and in almost total silence at times, a drivelling draw seemed the most likely outcome, until a couple of chances were scorned by the Badgers near the end and a penalty was awarded to the Nailers in the final minute. 

Retford’s championship hopes thus became as loose as a rawl plug in a cavity wall and Fisher proved that he was also a fisher of men at the final whistle, chasing Belper’s Wilson, who had been substituted to avoid a sending-off probably and the match ended in a disjointed manner. 

Belper had inserted a spanner in the works at Cannon Park and if the Badgers had taken their opening-half chances, the points would not have been wrenched from them at the death.

Badgers Thankful For Sett-Pieces…

Retford United 3 Sheffield FC 0, 2008-09

SIMPKINS WOULD SCORE FROM THIS FREE-KICK...

Sheffield huffed and puffed but failed to blow the Retford house down, built as it was from Cannon Park’s defensive ramparts of the towering Chambers and the evil-eyed Sheriff of Nottingham, Simpkins. Despite a great deal of possession, the visitors were thwarted time and again by the headers and thumping clearances by the massed army of Badgers defenders and ‘keeper Turner was called upon to make only a couple of catches and one fine push aside late in the game. 

Neat footwork and approach work by Sheffield rarely counted for anything and the hosts punished them with two excellent free-kicks and a simple header from a corner.

Godber Busts Ghoules…

Retford United 5 Goole Town 0

The Badgers chewed and processed then spewed out their visitors from Goole, despite losing lively forward Marrison to a sending-off offence before half-time. It was 2-0 at the time, fortunately when Marrison appeared to launch himself into a high challenge with a defender, a general and typical fisticuffs resulted, a yellow card was brandished at Retford players and Marrison was dismissed, although several Goole players were rather less than innocent bystanders. Peter Duffield was incensed, the official was particularly lenient with Goole players, especially skipper and midfielder Darker and it was no surprise that the Viking leader was also sent off during the second period. Natives of Birmingham are known as Brummies, those from Solihull are Silhillians, those from Manchester are Mancunians, those from Liverpool are Liverpudlians; maybe those from Goole have a collective name too and by the end of this game, the Badgers certainly had the Vikings by them…

GODBER: MVP OF THE MATCH...

A deserved win by the Badgers and the Vikings were sent packing with nothing but drooping figureheads on sweating prows. Godber was certainly the ‘most valuable player’ of the game, for his all-round performance but credit too, to the defence, the wide players and the unsung workers in midfield.