29/09 – I was going to start today’s piece with a few humorous remarks about marrows, but in the event, my latest footie foray turned out to be the Road Trip From Hell, so I’ll concentrate on that!
This was the last Saturday before the announced SWT / RMT rail strikes resume, so I took the opportunity for another long distance trip in the direction of London, and boy was that a mistake. I had in mind a visit to Barnes Rugby Club, which on the face of it, looked straight forward enough, changing at Clapham Junction onto a local train to Barnes station, which is more or less in the middle of nowhere, sort of near Roehampton, but with a convenient bus service up to Barnes itself. Barnes lies in a loop of the River Thames with Chiswick to the west and Fulham to the east (good view across the river of Craven Cottage, Fulham PC's stadium), and is therefore a tad isolated as there’s only the Hammersmith Bridge across the river on that stretch, but coming up from the south, no problem.
Someone on the sports forum I frequent had posted about a trip he’d made to this rugby club back in 2015, and he had referred to an “enclosed ground”. That got me scratching my head as I knew Barnes RFC played at the extensive Barn Elms Sports Centre / Playing Fields, but Google Maps’ aerial view of the complex doesn’t show any enclosed rugby pitches, so where exactly was it?
Thanks to Bing Maps, however, I eventually tracked the likely location down to a tree-lined area up against the banks of the River Thames, at the far end of the sports hub. In contrast, Google, which is usually more reliable, clearly shows this area as two mini soccer pitches
, so I thought I’d better get there early to avoid any last minute confusion.
So I duly set out today unseasonably early on the 09:51, and the fun started an hour and a half into the journey. An announcement was made as we approached Woking that my Exeter – Waterloo train would be terminated there, no reason given, sorry for any delays to your journey, have a nice day.
Everyone duly piled out on Platform 2 and crossed over to Platform 1, boarding the first available semi-fast service out of there towards London, which was totally rammed. A 12 coach train, I was at the front, and at least 50 folk were standing in the carriage I was in. We proceeded at a leisurely pace, which then descended to a slow crawl followed by complete standstill for 10 minutes outside Raynes Park. The reason for the disruption was now known to be major signalling problems at Vauxhall, so, along with a contingent of Arsenal fans, I took the decision to bail out at Wimbledon once we arrived there. The guard had already appealed over the tannoy for “medical assistance” for a passenger in coach 5 (not that anyone could move in the train), and alighting at Wimbledon, I saw that a teenager was lying on the platform in the recovery position, having been violently sick.
I blagged my way through the gates and out of the station, knowing from earlier research that there was a bus that ran from Wimbledon to Richmond via Roehampton, where I knew I could connect into the 33/72 bus services to Barnes itself. The 493 when it arrived at Stop R on Wimbledon Hill was rammed, but I managed to get on it, and a young man offered this elderly Ostrich his seat – first time that’s ever happened to me!
The first 72 bus at Roehampton was totally rammed, to the extent the driver turfed me and several other standee passengers off it.
The next 72 was also rammed, but I managed to get on it. So I duly arrived at Barnes Castelnau, as it is called, wandered down the main shopping drag, and found not a KFC in sight
; only various Thai Restaurants and something known as the Olympic Studios, which is actually a cinema, café, dining room, members’ club and recording studio to boot – a bit too refined for me, so I raided the local ethnic stores for a chicken tikka wrap and litre of milk.
In the recording studios, it should be noted, the Rolling Stones recorded their first ever hit “Come On”, as did the Troggs with “Wild Thing”.
I then trundled across the road and down the extensive Queen Elizabeth Walk which borders the sports fields to the London Wetland Centre, a WWF reserve in the heart of the conurbation, where I eyeballed a few bedraggled moorhens, a mallard and a zillion damselflies.
Here is a picture of Ossie in the reserve:
https://www.google.co.uk/maps/@51.4770271,-0.230549,3a,37.5y,83.12h,82.32t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1ssnUrdJ_ShQHUEHDiCSTFTw!2e0!7i13312!8i6656 I then continued on to the ground. But could I find an entrance to it? No. Because that end of the playing fields turned out to be a mega building site, something apparently to do with the Tideway London Sewer project. But after wandering in circles for about 10 minutes, a couple hailed me and asked if I was here for the rugby. It turned out they were taking the admission in the car park, and then directing us pedestrians round the back of a load of containers to access the pitch. Which turned out to be more or less where I thought it was.
Well, the only pitch furniture consists of two side-by-side prefabricated stands, with a total of 48 bucket seats. The clubhouse, such as it was, is nowhere near the pitch, some way back along Queen Elizabeth Walk. Today they were hosting a pre-match meal for "Ladies Wot Do Lunch"
but that had a slightly awkward aftermath as the ladies (a couple of dozen 20 or 30 somethings) rolled into the stand just before the start, and - shall we say - they were just a tad raucous. The lunch looked like it had been a pretty liquid one .....
The teams duly came out onto the pitch, we got underway - and then things REALLY got surreal.
With the score 14-7 after 31m, a Guernsey RFC player, Charlie Currie, went down on the far side of the pitch following a sickening collision. It was a fractured / dislocated ankle; he couldn’t be moved, and a 20 minute delay ensued. At which point, they removed the corner flags, and we all thought “game abandoned”. But no! We all decamped – players, officials, trainers, corner flags, spectators, the lot - some ¼ mile southwards to the far side of the Barn Elms sports complex, found an unoccupied rugby pitch, evicted a flock of Canada geese – 66, I counted
– set up shop, and resumed play!
At half-time, with the score 14-12, the word came through that the main pitch had now been cleared - so we all upped corner flags and marched back again!
“Like the bloody retreat from Stalingrad,” I quipped, to general, if hollow, laughter.
The second half gets underway – and a Guernsey player goes down prone with an audible thump. “Good grief! Well, I’m not walking all the way back over there again,
” muttered someone in the stand next to me.
The game eventually concluded at around 16:30. So time to walk back to the bus stop, get the 33 (rammed) to Barnes Station, then the (rammed) train to Clapham Junction. The major signalling disruptions hadn’t been sorted, so I spent a frantic five minutes oscillation between platforms 9 and 11 trying to identify the first train out of there back to Woking (in the event, the Alton train was cancelled, and I finished up on the half empty but 25m late Portsmouth Harbour service). If I had thought arrival at Woking was going to be the end of the travel nightmares, having eventually (after organised chaos and a last minute platform alteration), boarded an Exeter-bound train, I was more than mistaken – that train promptly broke down at Basingstoke
(a further 10 minute delay whilst they isolated the failed motors in the last 3 coaches), and we then sat in the passing loop at Tisbury for 15 minutes waiting for an up train to clear the single line! Home just over one hour late.
Please excuse me, I’m now off to put my head in an ice bucket ….
National League 2 South (Level 4): Barnes RFC 21 Guernsey Raiders RFC 26
Admission: £8 including excellent 40pp programme
Refreshments: The chicken tikka wrap (£2.49). I carried it lovingly all the way to the game, opened up the packaging, put it on the bucket seat beside me - and the bucket seat promptly tipped up and deposited the wrap on the floor!
So that was the end of that!!
Attendance: 154