GRITTY SOUTHERN DRAMA (but mostly without the actual drama)

Wednesday, March 29, 2022

Illogan RBL Reserves 1 Nanpean Rovers 7 (seven) (at Godolphin Atlantic FC, Newquay)

IN THE WORLD OF TELEVISION AND FILM there is a sort of sub-genre known as “gritty Northern drama” in which working-class heroes with thick Scouse or Yorkshire accents battle through the trials and travails of lives infected with poverty and a paucity of hope. They are often set in mining communities where the dangers of the work and the pressures of just getting by add up to a tough test for entire communities.

This has created a myth that this sort of life, this sort of challenge, is only for those born and bred in the northern parts of England while all those down south live a life of luxury. This is, of course, utter rubbish but has become a perception that is hard to shift. Even in sport, the thought pervades that Southern softies play tennis and badminton while the real hard men (and women) of the North play no-nonsense rugby league.*

So this blog, from a Cornish-domiciled working-class Londoner, who grew up on a housing estate of more than 20,000 people, is going to challenge those stereotypical outlooks and try to change a few minds – just like mine has been changed since moving here more than a decade ago.

Yes, it’s beautiful down here, yes there is always a beach and a pasty nearby and, yes, the lifestyle for many can be truly wonderful, but I have learned that Cornwall has had, and still does have, its tough times, its poverty. Visitors and scriptwriters might get all misty-eyed and romantic over the ruins of mines that dot the landscape, they might all go a bit Poldark, but the reality is that the mining life was a tough one and has bred some close-knit, hard-working communities to match anything in the industrial histories of those “oop north”.

So step forward Illogan and Nanpean.

I must admit I had never heard of either of these places before I moved down here and I am absolutely certain that they are not on most of the tourist trails that the majority of summer visitors follow when they head to Cornwall. They are very different places but both have their mining stories to tell and both have the sort of football teams you might expect from such backgrounds – determined, tough, never shirking a challenge, working hard for each other. You might almost call them stereotypically Northern!

Illogan is in classic Cornish tin and copper mining territory near Redruth. This is the sort of mining most people call to mind when thinking of Cornwall – an industrial landscape with engine houses dotting the skyline. Perhaps Illogan’s biggest claim to popular fame is that Poldark’s Demelza came from the village, although the football club did make national headlines back in 2010 when RBL Reserves thrashed Madron
55-0 in the old Mining League. Yes, fifty-five. However did they keep count?

The Mining League is now part of the Trelawny League, a grassroots competition in the west of the Duchy. Illogan RBL Reserves currently top Trelawny Division One West and are well on their way to promotion to the Premier Division, having lost only once all season. They would have gone into Wednesday night’s Bond Timber Cornwall Junior Cup semi-final full of confidence, even though they were probably the underdogs.

Nanpean is a village in china clay mining country, which is in the centre of Cornwall, mainly around the town of St Austell. China clay is a mineral called kaolin which is used in porcelain, paper, paint and many other products. Getting it out of the ground has left its mark on the Cornish landscape and it’s definitely not the prettiest part of Kernow. Even Nanpean Rovers’ home ground, Victoria Bottoms, is a set in a reclaimed clay pit.

The club itself is on the way back up again after a troubled recent past. After several seasons propping up the East Cornwall Premier League, the side began a new journey in the Duchy League, which is for the grassroots game in this part of Cornwall.

As recently as 1997 (well, that seems recent to me although it will feel like ancient history to many of the current crop of players), Nanpean were playing in the Cornwall Senior Cup final, rather than the Junior Cup they now find themselves in. Twenty-five years ago, they were beaten 2-1 in a final replay by Falmouth Town. The contrasting fortunes of the two clubs since then can be seen by the fact that Nanpean are rebuilding at grassroots level while Falmouth are heading for promotion to the Western League and are the current holders of the Senior Cup.

But Rovers are having a tremendous 2021-22 season. They lead Duchy League Division One West by five points with two games in hand so look almost nailed-on to lift the title. The glory days are returning.

But the big question for them on Wednesday night, as well as for Illogan, was could they add cup silverware to the league trophies that are seemingly heading in their directions?

For 45 minutes we were treated to an entertaining, hard-fought Junior Cup semi-final at Godolphin Atlantic’s Godolphin Way ground in Newquay. It was definitely gritty, definitely combative but with both sides playing some excellent football. It had all the makings of a proper sporting drama and any Northerner in the ground would have recognised the style of the occasion. No Southern softies here.

Nanpean took a deserved lead on 15 minutes with a towering header from a corner. They dominated from set-pieces throughout the game and Illogan never got to grips with that at all. However, the opening goal sparked RBL Reserves into what was to be their best spell of the game and they levelled on 24 minutes with a cool finish after a lovely sweeping move. Game on.

It had been a frantic start to the game and certainly took its toll on the mindset of one player. He asked the ref about the time and the man in black (who was a man, in black) replied: “30 minutes”.

“Left?” asked the player with a gasp.

“No, played,” said the ref, with a smile. The player’s relief was obvious as he breathed in great gulps of air. Well, it made me smile.

The Nanpean bench were also smiling for much of the game and seemed determined to enjoy the occasion. It was such a big match for local football that Cornwall FA had appointed a fourth official, complete with electronic board to indicate substitutions and the amount of added time. Every time he prepared to lift it, the Rovers’ sideline began to make “oooohhhh” noises, and then broke into a cheer, and then laughter, when the board was displayed. Fun at the football? Whatever next!

The Clay Country players, supporters and officials certainly had something to smile about on 37 minutes when they retook the lead with a flying header from the centre of the goal following a right-wing cross.

So 2-1 to Nanpean at half-time and the scene was set for more gritty southern drama after the break. Gritty it certainly was, with the tackles still flying in and one Illogan sin-binning for dissent, but sporting drama was sadly lacking as Rovers showed why they were favourites with an emphatic second-half performance.

They extended their lead to 3-1 on 52 minutes with a shot from inside the box as an increasingly shaky RBL failed to clear their lines. I wrote in my notes: “Is this writing meets wall time for Illogan?” and it certainly was just seven minutes later when a mishit shot looped in to make it 4-1 despite RBL’s furious pleas for offside.

The Trelawny League side were still furious just a couple of minutes later, which led to one of their players being sin-binned for arguing with the ref. That more or less killed any hopes of a dramatic fightback.

Nanpean added a fifth on 69 minutes when a long ball evaded a defender and the forward was on hand to coolly slot home and a sixth followed four minutes later when the keeper, who had made a couple of good saves earlier in the game, couldn’t keep out another shot from inside the box despite getting a hand to it.

At that stage, the scoreline really could have been anything but Illogan, to their credit, dug in a bit more and restricted rampant Rovers to just one more goal, a superb free-kick from 25 yards in the 90th minute, which was probably the pick of the bunch.

So, like a lot of films and TV dramas, the opening scenes promised much but, in the end, the hoped-for drama never really materialised. Endings are never easy to write, though, which might be while I am still waffling on. I’ll stop now.

Er, although, for the record, the Nanpean goalscorers on Wednesday night, were Jay Davie, Ryan Best, Scott Hill and the remarkable Jordi Willmott, who netted four times. That was no great surprise to anyone in the know, though, as he had just been on a run of scoring for Nanpean in 58, yes fifty-eight, consecutive league games. Wow. Illogan’s goal on the night came from Tom Butt.

*Oh yes, one more thing. Rugby league, professional rugby league, that most Northern of sporting endeavours, is coming to Cornwall. No, really. Cornwall RL are about to start their first ever season in Division One, the third tier of the game. Their home games will be played at Penryn RFC’s Memorial Ground and I already have my ticket for their opening game there, against Midlands Hurricanes on April 10. Despite being a born and bred Southern softie, RL is a game I love. I even scored a try once, for Felixstowe Eastern against Bexleyheath Barons. But that’s a whole other story, a different episode in This Sporting Life – which also happens to be the title of a gritty 1963 Northern sporting drama starring Richard Harris.

I could go on, but I won’t. I really am ending the blog this time.

Except to say that Nanpean’s opponents in the Junior Cup final will be St Just, who have just been crowned as champions of the Trelawny League Premier Division. Their nickname is The Tinners, another mining link. It should be a cracker of a game.

PICTURES: Search for “Peter Harlow” on Facebook and there you will find a selection of fuzzy snapshots taken on my phone.

NOT QUITE A KNOCKOUT

Tuesday, March 22, 2022

Helston Athletic Thirds 1 Penryn Athletic Reserves 1

WHEN IS A CUP TIE NOT A CUP TIE? When it’s a league game, of course. But what if that league game feels like a cup tie? What if it has that winner-takes-all vibe that makes knockout football so enthralling, so thrilling? What if the destination of some sporting silverware rests heavily on the final result, almost like a cup final? Well, then it’s still a league game but one that is channelling the inner glory that makes cup football the most beautiful version of the beautiful game. And that makes it a must-see match for a cup football blogger to get excited about.

So let me take you, dear reader, to Kellaway Park, Helston, on a cold, early spring evening for a league match masquerading as a cup tie. (By the way, it’s always chilly at Kellaway even though we are way down south. I have been here to watch games in the company of hardcore Northerners and even they were shivering. It must be some sort of meteorological anomaly. Or Northerners aren’t as weather-resistant as they like us soft Southerners to think they are!)

However, wrapped in about four layers, a woolly hat and with my jacket hood up, I was ready for some hot action on the pitch to keep my footballing soul warm, even if my feet didn’t properly heat up again until about two hours after getting home.

So what fixture had got me so hot under the footballing collar? Well, not one I ever imagined would get me so excited. When I started this blog five or six seasons ago, I imagined a raft of FA Vase, FA Cup and FA Trophy matches would be my staple cup-tie diet, with the added bonus of watching Devon and Cornwall’s top teams battling it out in the Carlsberg (as it was then) South West Peninsula League Walter C Parson Funeral Directors League Cup. Regular readers (Hello Dad) will know that I think that is the cup competition with the best name of all.

The possibility of getting so involved in watching a potential title decider in grassroots league football never really crossed my mind, but that is what we had here. Helston’s Third XI and their rivals from Penryn Reserves are battling it out to be crowned LWC Drinks Cornwall Combination League champions and this game would go a long way to deciding who would lift the crown. That was why this fixture had such an edge, such a tension, that it really did feel like a cup match.

Helston started the night three points ahead of their nearby visitors, both teams having played 21 games in what is a 28-match league season. So a win for the home-team Blues would virtually seal the title, while the visiting Reds really needed a victory to keep their own hopes alive. Helston’s Twitter feed asked before the match if it was a title-decider and concluded that it probably was. Mind you, the same Twitter feed said that kick-off would be at 7.30pm, then 7pm, then 7.30pm again. The FA’s Full-Time website leant towards a 7pm start so, having left home a bit late, I raced to get to Kellaway just before seven. It kicked off at 7.31pm. Oh well, at least I had time for a much-needed toilet break before the game did eventually start!

Incidentally, the loos were very clean and tidy, with a bright blue “Helston Athletic FC” sign on the wall and deodorant mats in the urinals from “Alwees Fresh”, which made me smile. Too much detail? OK, moving swiftly on.

Now, I have lived in Cornwall since 2009 but it takes a long time to not only be treated like a local down here but also to actually feel like one. But this felt like a proper Cornish community occasion and I felt like a genuine part of it. This was a grassroots game, a match in a competition which has little or no recognition or relevance outside of the western half of the Duchy and I was really nervous about it, really tense about it, it really mattered to me. Maybe, just maybe, a little bit of Cornish-ness has seeped into my soul. Proper job.

I have a lot of time for both of these clubs. I live in Penryn so am now a ‘Rynner at heart, but Helston feels like a club that is doing things right, that is making all the right moves on and off the pitch, a club that really is at the heart of its community. But sometimes it seems like I am in the minority of Cornish football supporters in feeling that way as there seems to be a lot of hate for Helston on the local football forums at the moment. I think it’s jealousy.

A decade ago, Helston’s first team was winning the Combination, now it is their third team who are looking to lift the same title. The first team is now playing in the Toolstation Western League, at Step Five of the Non-League Pyramid, after winning promotion to the SWPL and then being “upwardly moved” to the Western League for this season. In the meantime, Kellaway Park has been improved out of all recognition, from being basically an open field into a proper fenced-in football ground with excellent floodlights.

These are all signs of ambition and success, traits which often bring out the grumbling football naysayers, not only in Cornwall but across the UK. I, for one, though, salute and congratulate Helston on their progress – especially the lights, which mean there are now more midweek fixtures for me to go to watch. Whoo hoo!

Tuesday night’s league/cup/league encounter turned out to be a truly excellent advert for local football. As might have been expected, it was competitive and combative but, at times, the level of play was far higher than you might expect to see in a grassroots clash. And these two, as the league table suggested, were very evenly matched. Penryn started just the brighter, and missed the best chance of the early part of the match, but Helston always looked dangerous going forward and it was impossible to pick out who would go on to win the points and, perhaps, the title.

Now, I have been extremely lucky with my blog matches over the years and have still yet to see a goalless draw. The nearest I came was when Truro City and Forest Green Rovers were stuck at 0-0 after 90 minutes of an FA Trophy game but the tie went into extra time and was settled by an excellent winner from the Cotswolds side. However, as Tuesday’s game moved towards half-time with the sides, as they say, cancelling each other out and actual goalmouth action being at a premium, I began to contemplate the possibility of a nil-nil draw. The game was so absorbing that I decided I really wouldn’t mind but, two minutes before the break, the deadlock was broken and that goal-shy thought was put to bed.

It was the visitors who took the lead, Kyle Cooke slotting home a cross from the left and, on the balance of play, it was probably just about what Penryn deserved. Now, if they could hold on for the three points they would go level at the top of the table with Helston and actually ahead of them on goal difference. What they really needed to do now was to try to keep playing to the same standard, continue to keep the hosts at arm’s-length and, above all, not do anything silly.

Oh dear.

Ten minutes into the second half, the Penryn keeper decided to channel his inner Manuel Neuer and become a sweeper-keeper. A ball was played through the middle and, instead of letting his defence try to recover, he came charging way outside of his box, way, way out of his box, but was beaten to the pass by a Helston attacker, leading to the inevitable foul. Despite his protestations that there were plenty of Penryn defenders in the vicinity, the ref decided to brandish the red card. Cue a proper flare-up as players from both sides charged in to have their say, accompanied by plenty of pushing, shoving and macho posturing. Inevitably, none of that changed the ref’s decision and the keeper had to go, throwing his shirt to the floor as he stormed off. Told you it was all a bit tense.

The sending-off swung the footballing pendulum in Helston’s favour and they levelled things up just six minutes later, Harry Luckett firing home past the stand-in keeper.

So, 1-1 and most of the crowd of 102 paying souls seemed to believe that Helston would now go on to get the winner and virtually seal the championship. Penryn, on the other hand, didn’t believe that at all. They knew a draw was a better result for Helston than for them and so, in true cup football style, they pushed forward in search of their own winner. It was, as I may have mentioned, pretty tense, an atmosphere that was added to as we played seven minutes of ever more desperate injury time.

The reactions at the final whistle were mixed. Helston roared as if they had won the title, Penryn were physically and emotionally shattered as they knew their brave efforts were not enough, and I was momentarily baffled. You see, I had so bought into the cup-tie nature of the whole event that I was expecting extra-time and penalties – I had virtually forgotten that it was a league game.

I would definitely have enjoyed an extra thirty minutes of lively footballing action but the Blues of Helston were more than happy for the game to end in regulation time. After all, if they hadn’t actually delivered a final knockout blow to Penryn’s title hopes, they had definitely enjoyed a points victory. It’s going to take something extraordinary for them not to claim the Combo crown now.

PICTURES: Search for “Peter Harlow” on Facebook and there you will find a selection of fuzzy snapshots taken on my phone. 

SING ALONG

Tuesday, March 15, 2022

Falmouth Town 4 Dobwalls FC 1 (at Bodieve Park, Wadebridge)

I AM BEING HAUNTED BY NEIL DIAMOND. Well, not haunted exactly, for a couple of reasons. One, I don’t actually believe in ghosts and, two, the singing superstar isn’t dead yet anyway. No, what I mean is that one of his songs is following me around. You know which one. I bet you are already humming it now.

My wife is a big fan of the songster and has seen him live five times. He is not touring any more, because he has Parkinson’s Disease sadly, so last month we settled for the next best thing and went to the Hall for Cornwall in Truro to see a tribute act, called A Beautiful Noise. It was excellent and my other half, Lea, even got to hold Pretend Neil’s hands at one stage as he min-strelled his way through the adoring audience. The evening ended, as you knew it would, with a thousand people on their feet, hands in the air, swaying from side to side and yelling: “Sweet Caroline, Oh, Oh, Oh.”

At the same venue a few days later, I went along to see the stage version of long-running Radio Four comedy series I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue (the antidote to panel games, don’t you know). Featuring Jack Dee as the host, with panellists including Rory Bremner and Miles Jupp, it was a riotously funny evening. As we took our seats (or standing area in my case) every member of the crowd was issued with a kazoo, a “musical” instrument into which you hum a tune at one end and it comes out the other end sounding like Donald Duck.

The show closed with, you guessed it, everyone humming Sweet Caroline into their plastic tube. It was a deafening racket and completely tuneless. I couldn’t hum for laughing by the time we got to the second chorus. Maybe you had to be there …

And so on to Bodieve Park, Wadebridge, on Tuesday night, for the RGB Building Supplies Cornwall Senior Cup semi-final between Falmouth Town and Dobwalls. Surely Caroline couldn’t raise her musical-ish head again, could she?

Wrong, Blogger, so wrong.

You see, all-conquering Falmouth Town, who are not only the cup holders (since 2019 because of Covid competition cancellations) but also the runaway leaders of the Kitchen Kit South West Peninsula League Premier West Division, are accompanied on their football adventures by the F-Troop, a noisy, boisterous and colourful collection of supporters who are determined to make every Fal game an occasion to enjoy and to remember. That’s a lot easier to do when you have only seen your side beaten three times all season – once in the FA Vase, once in the SWPL Walter C Parson Funeral Directors League Cup (the best competition name in football) and once, just once, in the league, at home to St Blazey. Other than that, they have won every game, which definitely gives the F-Troop plenty to sing about.

Opinion is divided in Cornwall, though, as to whether this all-singing, all-chanting group makes a beautiful noise or not. Some say they are too lively, too loud, too full of themselves. Others love the sense of fun and theatre that they bring to games. I am in the second camp, although I do try to make sure I stand a bit of a distance away from them just in case!

They were in fine form at Bodieve Park on Tuesday night, especially as their heroes raced into a three-goal lead in the first 20 minutes, effectively killing the tie as a contest. That was a disappointment for a neutral like me, who had hoped for a closer game, but it was a source of constant joy for the F-Troop, who basically never shut up throughout the entire 90 minutes.

They went through their whole repertoire, including their own doctored versions of Molly Malone and Yellow Submarine, which meant that, inevitably, Mr Diamond’s most famous hit was dragged out and given the over-excited F-Troop touch.

Having taken over the covered Ron Williams Stand behind one goal (which was reminiscent of their own natural environment in The Packet End at Falmouth’s Bickland Park ground), they bounced and sang and flag-waved as Sweet Caroline began on their portable audio system. Tweaked to include a chorus of “Sweet Falmouth Town” instead of “Sweet Caroline”, it rang out into the chilly Cornish air, full of joy, celebration and, quite possibly, alcohol. I loved it.

It was my favourite version of the song I had heard in the past couple of months, although the kazoo rendering made me laugh more and Lea would definitely have been more of a fan of Pretend Neil’s effort. And the F-Troop wouldn’t have cared which one we liked most, they were just having their customary fun.

Now, the fact that I have banged on for this long while barely mentioning the football gives you an idea of how the game itself really was for the non-partisan observer i.e. me. Pre-match, I had reasonably high hopes of a decent semi-final. Falmouth might be running away with the league, with 22 wins in their 23 games, but Dobwalls are having a solid season themselves, sitting in fifth place in the SWPL Premier West. They are, perhaps, the Peninsula League’s Aston Villa to Falmouth’s Manchester City, a decent side who, on their day, can give even the best a run for their money.

Sadly, it wasn’t to be their day, but I didn’t know that as I rocked up at Wadebridge Town’s tidy ground, with my cup football blogging heart full of hope for a big occasion, a feeling that was enhanced when stewards, not something you see much of at Step Six on the Non-League Pyramid, directed us away from the normal parking areas around the pitch and instead into the school and leisure centre car parks on the other side of the road. Big time stuff!

The fact that I rocked up half an hour before kick-off to make sure I got a good place to stand and that the bar was far too packed to even contemplate having a cheeky pint before kick-off, all just added to my sense of anticipation, my expectation of a cup classic.

All that evaporated 39 seconds after kick-off.

Dobwalls made the first of many defensive errors in the first half, failing to clear the ball before a cross came in from the left. It then evaded all the uncertain defenders and ended up in the back of the net. I wasn’t sure whether the cross had gone straight in or whether a Fal forward had got a glancing header to it (the general opinion was Option B) but either way it was 1-0 already. The F-Troop partied, the much smaller Dobwalls contingent worried, and this blogger saw his big match hopes start to fade almost immediately.

Nine minutes later, those hopes became even dimmer. More shaky defending from Dobwalls handed Falmouth an easy second and it all felt a bit ominous already.

The F-Troop were loving it, though. They have good memories of this ground, which is often used for cup finals and semi-finals. Back in 2018, Town beat Tavistock here in a cracking cup final of the Walter C Parson Funeral Directors League Cup. That was a fantastic game, with the Cornish side beating their Devon rivals 4-2 after extra time, and the Fal fans lapped it all up.

They were lapping it all up again after 25 minutes on Tuesday night when a long-range effort found the back of the net, despite the Dobwalls keeper getting a hand to it. He will, perhaps, in the vernacular of the modern game, be disappointed with that.

The F-Troop were clearly not disappointed though and excelled themselves midway through the half after desperate Dobwalls produced one crunching foul too many. Now, when I used to go to watch Millwall every week, any foul by a player from anywhere north of Watford, was greeted with the chants of “You dirty northern bastard!” The further south that “northern” club was from, the funnier we all thought it was. Falmouth outdid us in style on Tuesday. Falmouth is, according to the internet, situated on a latitude of 50.152 degrees north. Dobwalls is at 50.460. For reference, London is at 51.5 degrees north. Dobwalls is also less than ten miles from the South Cornwall coast. So not very far north at all then. Quite possibly the furthest south northern so-and-sos ever. It did make me chuckle.

Not chuckling at all by this stage were the Dobwalls contingent. They finally started to get a foot in the game around the half-hour mark and actually hit the crossbar with two superb efforts on 30 and 34 minutes. Confirmation that it definitely wasn’t going to be their night came on 37 minutes when Falmouth made it 4-0, taking advantage of yet another series of errors in the Dobwalls defence.

Falmouth’s scorers were, probably, Jack Bray-Evans (2), Luke Barner and Dave Broglino, although some thought Bray-Evans may have got a hat-trick. That all goes back to the “did he touch it, didn’t he touch it” conundrum for that opening goal. In the absence of VAR and numerous replays from every angle apart from underneath, I guess you just make your own choice.

As so often happens in games of Association Football which are effectively over by half-time, the second half was something of a damp squib. Nothing much happened for most of it and I was happy to be entertained by the noisy antics of the F-Troop instead of the actual action on the pitch.

Things came to life a bit on 77 minutes when a Dobwalls player was sin binned for dissent after arguing over a handball decision in midfield. It was all a bit needless and the player’s mood wasn’t improved when the fourth official (yes, it was a big enough game to have one of them) decided his ten minutes on the sidelines was up and sent him back on, only for the ref to decide he still had two or three minutes to serve and sent him back off again.

As the game went into injury time, the same player was finally sent off for good, this time for a foul which resulted in a very brisk red card. The ref wasn’t messing this time.

By then, Dobwalls had pulled one goal back, a far-post finish on 88 minutes which was greeted more loudly by the ironic cheers of the Fal faithful than by the genuine cheers of the Dobwalls supporters.

Three minutes into injury time another Dobwalls foul led to a proper melee which, I think, resulted in three yellow cards being brandished, with players on both sides being cautioned. It all seemed a bit of a waste of time as the game had long been over as a contest, but boys will be boys sometimes.

When the final whistle finally went, I must admit to feeling a little bit flat. It hadn’t been the hard-fought and exciting semi-final I had hoped for. But Falmouth’s fans and players didn’t care and their celebrations continued long after the final whistle, dancing and singing both in and in front of the Ron Williams Stand. And my mood was lightened somewhat by the sound of one song as the F-Troop went for one final rousing chorus. All together now …

PICTURES: Search for “Peter Harlow” on Facebook and there you will find a selection of fuzzy snapshots taken on my phone. Taking pictures under non-league floodlights is always a bit of an adventure.