17/02 – Three matches were on the agenda this last week – first up on Tuesday was a Football League Division 2 encounter between Yeovil Town and Barnet. I wouldn’t normally attend FL2 games but the rationale here was that Barnet are likely to be relegated at the end of the season and finish up in the top flight of the Non-League Pyramid, so I would be knocking them off in advance.
Against this, though, I had to set a 58 mile round trip, £2 for parking, something like £20 for admission even though I classify as an old codger, wildly overpriced food and drink, queuing to get out of the car park at the end of a cold night rattling around in their half-empty stands – and it was, of course, the start of a new season of “Shetland” with Douglas Henshall on the telly. No contest; “Shetland” won the day!
Wednesday, Valentine’s Day, saw the Ostrich treat Mrs O to a festive cooked breakfast at the local garden centre. The café is bright and spacious – but the acoustics are terrible. At one point, I happened to mention that today was the start of National Nest Box Week, aimed at trying to get the population to install the said bird residences. Mrs O glared at me and set off on a long unintelligible rant about politicians!
When I managed to get a word in, I said:
“… but what have you got against the birdies?”
“What do you mean, birdies?”
“Well, I said it was National Nest Box Week.”
“Nest Box?
Nest Box?? I thought you said it was International Despot Week!!”
At which point, to get over the auditory problems, Mrs O reverted to using British Sign Language (of which she is a trained teacher), much to the amazed fascination of a 12 year old girl on an adjoining table who nearly fell off her seat whilst craning to look at all the wild, expansive finger-spelling ….
Anyway, all finished well, despite a certain amount of bickering over crocuses (I like yellow and purple; Mrs O advocates only white), and to conclude, as a fond Valentine’s Day gift, I purchased her a replacement set of oven gloves.
Friday night saw Ossie set off for the Wincanton Sports Ground; this game, with the agreement of Roman Glass St George, having been brought forward from Saturday at short notice to allow Wincanton Town FC officials and supporters to attend the funeral of their late Club President, Tony Barker at Yeovil Crematorium.
Roman Glass St George FC are in fact the oldest club in Bristol, dating from 1882 (or 1872, depending on your source). They played as Bristol St George until 1995 when they merged with a junior club called Roman Glass, hence the current name. Now Roman Glass is a big double-glazing unit firm in the south-west (I often see their vans floating about in this area) and I guess that is where the name comes from. I assume the firm are the sponsors, but the football club doesn’t seem to have a website, so I can’t confirm that.
The crowd tonight was interestingly about 30-40 higher than normal and I think RGSG brought a minibus of supporters, as their team is well in contention for promotion. Now down here in the Vale, sub-soil, we are on Kimmeridge Clay, and it simply doesn’t drain. Our back garden is the same - completely sodden with all this rain. The pitch at Wincanton was very wet, a morass in places, especially along the goal-line at the entrance end, and it cut up quite badly during the game. Turning on the surface was a lottery, and the conditions certainly hindered play; I suspect we’d have seen more goals on a drier and less bumpy pitch.
RGSG started at a fast pace, displaying both trickery and skill, and took the lead on 8m although that was through a defensive mistake as a cross that could have been wasn’t cut out allowing an attacker free rein to volley in. Wincanton had more territorial possession in the second half but RGSG made the game effectively safe on 59m with a goal squeezed in from an acute angle.
A reasonable match, and 0-2 to the visitors a fair result, but a bit too cold out there on the night to be totally enjoyable.
A strong cup of tea and a jam doughnut were enjoyed at half-time …..
Saturday morning saw Ossie bouncing up and down, shrieking “An Gwary Ha Tra Nahen!”
Not Latin, or Estonian, or even Klingon – but Cornish! That’s the motto of Camborne RFC and it translates as “The Game, and Nothing But!” Today’s fixture saw a lengthy round trip to hosts Cleve RFC, who play at the Hayfields, Mangotsfield, north-east Bristol. For Ossie, a long overland journey via Frome, Radstock and Keynsham, which was accomplished in around an hour and a half, and having parked in the club’s spacious grounds, I had time to wander back into the town to see if I could find a takeaway or something. Well, the only one of the main street seemed to have half its windows smashed and the rest boarded up, so obviously not a particularly salubrious area.
I opted for a pint of milk and a pack of five Peperamis for £1.87 at the Tesco Express next door.
There’s a wooden pay-station next to the gates as you walk up to the pitch, and asking for a programme there, I was handed a folded A4 sheet by the teenager manning the hut; this contained the two teams in the middle, a pen-pic of the referee on the first page, and the back page completely blank. This was a suspiciously lightweight publication for a club at Level 5 in rugby union, so I thought I’d hang around the entrance until the teen had been joined by 3 other club officials. I enquired again.
“We don’t give them out – they’re sacred!”
“Pardon?”
“Oh give him one, he has asked …..”
(Grudgingly) “Well alright - but I’m not supposed to.”
(Produces 32pp glossy programme from a box at the back of the counter)
“Do you want anything for it?”
“Have you come up from Camborne?”
“No, Dorset.”
“Humph. Well you can have it for free then.”
What was all that about?
Cleve RFC started in 1922 and initially played in Staple Hill, then Fishponds before being evicted from the latter in 1939 (the land was requisitioned for housing) and moving to Downend. Further land was bought in 1947 and this was used for farming by club members to provide a source of income, inspiring the club motto “We sow to reap”. In 1997, the club moved once again, this time to the Hayfields and have developed 4 pitches and a headquarters there.
The clubhouse is a long, low-raked affair down the length of the first team pitch touchline. The section housing the changing rooms is fronted by a raised terrace, with a perspex covering that I don’t think would give a lot of shelter on a rainy / windy day. The clubhouse comprises a central bar and a number of side and committee rooms off, one of which was hosting a member’s lunch, but seemingly there were only around 10 takers, sat at a single lonely trestle table. Numerous honours boards were on display on the walls, as were some early photographs depicting the removal of the wooden pavilion from Fishponds to Downend. It had originally cost £200 and they weren’t going to leave it behind!
The floodlit main pitch is railed (a substantial plastic construction) and three sides are adorned with advertising boards. To complete the pitch-side furniture, there’s a manual scoreboard and two of the smallest dugouts I’ve seen for a long time. You could just about seat two in each of them at a pinch.
There was not a lot at stake in this match, both teams fairly comfortably mid-table, but with Camborne perhaps needing the points more to keep clear of the relegation battle. They opened the scoring with an easy penalty on 2m, but Cleve quickly responded with a short range try from No.8 Mike Uren. The scoreboard steadily accumulated points, Camborne scoring three tries against some pretty inept Cleve tackling, whilst the home side kept pace with a 50 yard sprint by Kislingbury, who just made it to the line in advance of a defender. 17-25 at half time.
It was more a game of attrition after the break with Cleve pounding the away line, but being frustrated by handling errors at crucial moments. They clawed the score back to 23-25 but against the run of play, Camborne notched a crucial converted 4th try on 71m. Although Cleve managed a converted try of their own deep in stoppage time, Camborne clung on for a just about deserved win.
Second half highlights included the Ostrich being attacked by a low-flying marauding flock of sea-gulls which were after his tray of chips
– it’s quite disconcerting when they hover about 4 feet in front of you but, together with several neighbouring spectators, we were able to bat them away. Oh, and two blue hot air balloons drifted across the horizon on a bright, sunny afternoon …..
South West Premier (formerly National 3 South West) (Level 5)
Cleve RUFC 30 Camborne RUFC 32
Admission: £3 (concession)
Refreshments: from the clubhouse, tray of chips £2. Not a huge range of food on offer and no draft beer available in the bar today, to the disgruntlement of the locals.
Attendance: 133