Romford Trip - Day 1

ROMFORD 3 WARE 2

    

                                  

                                                                                                                                        

The sun was out in force as the first day of my Romford trip got under way. A "home" game against Ware. As you may or may not be aware Romford actually play in Aveley, which is in Essex. It is our 17th "home" venue since we reformed in 1992. I can't even begin to go into the saga of the new ground at Westlands without my blood boiling and me upsetting certain people at Romford FC, both of which I do not wish to partake in.

Today I was feeling rebellious, so got the 165 to Elm Park Station, then changed to the 372. And who says I don't lead an exciting life?

Elm Park Station in the sun

The journey was over all too soon and as usual I was ridiculously early so got off a couple of stops after the ground to have a pre match pint in a boozer round the corner. It wasn't open. Hmmm!

I walked into Aveley village and luckily found a pub that was open, and showing the Liverpool v Moan United game. There were a number of Thurrock fans in there, which suprised me. On looking at the fixtures they had an FA Trophy game at home.

Supped a couple of pints and walked to the ground.Saw all the usual suspects and it was good to catch up with every one.

Ware have a certain Stuart Nethercott as their manager. He looks like a buffoon and has a high pitched gutteral voice to match.

Ex Spurs, Millwall "player, Ware manager Stuart Nethercott

Every time he shouted his instructions from the dug out, Paul, one of our lot, started up with the Muppet song, "Ma na ma na". The scene would be, Nethercott would shout something, followed by us going "Do,do,do,do,do". You had to be there really.

We took the lead after 5 minutes when Paul Kavanagh swung in a free kick and Matt Toms rose un marked at the far post.

                           Tommsy with the first

After 25 minutes that man Kavanagh was at it again, this time a free kick from the left, and Nick Reynolds headed in to make it 2-0.
 

Nick Reynolds is congratulated by Abs Seymour

A defensive slip ten minutes after this allowed Ware’s Nikki Crace to reduce the deficit and this goal led to a period of strong but unsuccessful play by the visitors.

 

Two minutes into first half added time Reynolds settled the Romford nerves somewhat when he headed home his second and his team’s third goal from yet another Kavanagh dead ball kick to take the home side into a 3-1 half time lead.

Get this man in your fantasy team, 3 assists

 

Although Ware pulled a goal back, Romford were good value for their win, and the 88 hardy souls went home happy. Except me! I didn't go home, for my next appointment was in Leyton for an anti-racist gig.

Poster for the gig

 Whilst I was basking in the sun in deepest darkest Essex, the O's were beating Bury 1-0. Tiny Cox with the goal.

                                 We've got Tiny Cox

The gig was compared by the wonderful Graham Larkeby and first up were Corporal Machine and The Bombers. Wasn't sure where a tuba player was going to fit in but it was soon obvious as they went through their impressive set, with a couple of songs mentioning Romford, which will always get bonus points from me. The tuba took the place of the bass guitar and at one point, there was even a rap. A rapping tuba player? Thumbs up!

                              Rapping tuba player? Tick!
Headline act was Steve White and The Protest Family, a band I am proud to call my mates. They churned through classics such as "Walthamstow Dogs", "Brisbane Road", "Summer in Sainsbury's". Encore was a song I have never heard live, namely "Leyton Orient scored more goals than any other 4th division team in 1988/89".

                                  "Funky" Lol Ross

And then I had to get to Leyton station, to get to Stratford on the Central Line and then take my chances with the trains to Romford. As I was on the platform, my mate Lee told me there were no trains due to engineering works. Ah! Wonderful! Hop over to the other platfrom and get a Central Line to Newbury Park, then the 66, the "King of bus routes". 

 I was stranded at Newbury Park for an hour waiting for the bus. I love Newbury Park station with its funky roof, but don't wish to sit there so long on a Saturday night, watching a chav have a breakdown in front of me. Finally got back, and flopped tired into bed, ready for the next days adventures.

                         Is that not a funky roof?

 

BSV SW Rehden 9 (Nein) VfL Bückeburg 0

                                                                                               You've heard of a one horse town, right? Well in Rehden the horse had left. And it probably wasn't even a real horse. Just a pantomime horse. With fleas!

Rehden - one horse town

 Everything that is wrong with football and modern society in general was on display in Rehden. From the half finished club house, once again flaunting the rules, to the glaring health and safety issues around the ground, the extortionate entry prices, to the pretentiousness of the main stand, the attitude of the home fans, the, the, the......

Match day ticket

 I shall start with the entry prices. 7€ in itself is a bit steep at this level, considering the average is 6€, but to charge 9€ to sit is a fucking joke. 

I paid it, as it was the only cover in the ground and it had been pissing down on and off all day and would continue to do so during the game.

I do not know what it is like in the UK, as I haven't lived there for over 15 years but here in Germany, I have given them a number of nicknames one of which being "Arthur". This stands for Arthur job. The ability to suddenly stop a building project. This was the case with the clubhouse. As I wandered past, I peered in the window to see a building site with a few picnic tables set up. And then came the first health and safety issue.

Mind the gap! What gap?

That bloody gap!!

                                                                                     So I tried to ignore the deadly hazard in front of me and had a walk round the other side of the ground. Oh look, there seems to be a massive piece of metal fencing cunningly placed in the middle of the terracing. 

Random piece of metal in middle of terrace - tick!

 So on we go, round the back of the goal and to the main and only stand. And here the utter ostentatiousness of this disgusting bulls pizzle (love a Shakespeare insult) of a club.

Blue and gold!

 Here we enter the main/only stand. The one there are loads of photos on their website of, so you think "Cor, nice stand wonder what the rest of the ground is like?". Well, this is basically it. Seems as though the back two rows were an afterthought, and someone went down the local school and nicked those aerobic mats to put down, so the wonderful residents of Rehden, all 1,766 of them don't get splinters in their derrier's.

I was in Block B. This I knew as someone had gone to the trouble of laminating an A4 piece of paper and sticking it on the back of the stand.

Block B everyone. But where was Block A?

The sides of the stand, on the stairs leading down to the front were granite. That's granite! And yet they can't afford a decent sign to put on their marvellous stand. Oh, by the way, if you wondering about Block A, forget it, there wasn't one. Either that or the Blu-Tak holding on the sign had perished (Alan Partridge word of the day).

The seats. Quite obviously at one time orange, but oh no, let's spray them metallic blue. The last time I saw a colour like that, it was on a Ford Capri Ghia, with fluffy dice hanging off the mirror and Derek and Sharon on the windscreen, hurtling down Atlanta Boulevard in Romford (Yes, there really is such a road).

"Ford Capri orange, and Volkswagen yellow and gold" - Carter USM

 With all the expense of the new clubhouse (not finished), the stand (not sure if finished), money must have been tight and they couldn't afford a couple of tables for outside the clubhouse. So they improvised.

Tyre/Traffic sign table combo - Tick

Onto the main event of the evening, and the PA announcer grabbed his microphone and sauntered onto the pitch. I shall call him Mr. Wikipedia as he began to regale us with facts and figures about the church in Bückeburg, and the palace, all wonderful things but I just wanted to hear the team line ups. I did learn that Bückeburg has more female residents than males, so it wasn't all bad news. Mr. Wikipedia had obvioulsy missed out on his true profession as a stand up comedian.

As the game got underway, and there was a break in play, he gets on his mic again and announces "If you clap your hands, they will keep warm". I was dreading the next throw in almost anticipating him, standing up with his cordless mic, and saying "C,mon y'all, put your motherfucking hands in the air. Make some noise, Rehden". But thankfully he gave up after the hand comments.

It was an absolute honour to be sat near the great Karl Pilkington

As the first half got underway I noticed a man on the same row as I, staring intensivley at me. Now, I know I am a gay icon, but it was unsettling. So I looked around to see if The Cambodian Midget Fighting League had suddenly started to perform a scene from Eastenders in the form of modern dance, but there was just me there. So I stared back. He kept staring at me. I called him a prick, and he suddenly looked away.

Stary man

 At half time I walked to the opposite end of the stand, towards where Bückeburg were shooting. It was pissing down with rain and an elderly gentleman was coming towards me. To let him pass, I stepped aside, at the front of the stand, into to pouring rain. Not so much as a thank you. So I said "You are most welcome", as sarcastially as I could. Note, apart from the "Prick" incident with "Stary Man", all these converstations are in German.

I took up residence at the back of the stand, when a Harold Shipman lookalike appeared before me. "That's my seat", he barked. I suddeny had visions of turning into Oz, in that episode of Auf Wiedersehen Pet, where he lectures the old tosspot on "You bring that seat with you to the match, every game do you? Your name's on it is it?". But I was really not in the mood, so I moved a couple of seats to my left. "Oh no, you'll have to move from there as well", said Shipman. 

"That seat is taken"

 So I grabbed my rucksack and sat down the front. Only for one of the Rehden WAGS, a quite ridiculous looking woman, to start chatting to her mate. In a tone so high, that dogs were starting to come from neighbouring gardens (Ok, there wasn't any, the whole ground was in the middle of bloody nowhere, but for the sake of comedy please bear with me). I thought rather than risk the chance of tinitus, or get wet I would choose the latter, and went and stood behind the goal.

Try sitting next to that

So I went and stood behind the goal for the remainder of the second half. Luckily the rain held off.

Oh yeah, we lost 0-9. But at half time, 0-3 down and up to the "Beaker" episode I was really beyond caring and could just about manage a shake of the head after Rehden racked up the goals. Sorry if you were expecting in depth match analysis, but I needed a good old rant about something. Quite the most disgusting people I have had the misfortune to meet.

Ratings
Distance to ground :     72,5km
Friendliness       :      -1 - Utter tossers!
Clubhouse          :  -1 - Not even built 
Seats              :  Yes - One main stand
Behind goals       :  Terracing behind one goal
Cover              :  Yes - One main stand
Floodlights        :  Yes
Barrier            :  Metal barrier
Beer               :  Don't know, don't care, hope it chokes them

Bratwurst          :  See above
Entrance fee       :  7€ standing, 9€ seats
Programme          :  No
Weather            :  5/10
Ground             :  5/10
Home fans          :  -1 - Words fail me!

VfL Bückeburg 3 TSV Ottersberg 3

                                                                                                     
 Ottersberg. Quite literally translated Otterhill. I have never heard of Ottersberg. Or indeed have any idea where it is. But I kind of like the idea of a hill full of otters. 

An otter

A hill

   A Friday night game. Whoop! Going into the game, I was actually confident. Ottersberg were only 3 points better off than us, and we were riding high on confidence on the back of an away win last Saturday. 

Tonight was night of the stupid names. The referee was called Hauke-Jörn, his assistant was Sascha-Patrick and, get this, Gerrit. 

Not to be outdone, TSV had some wonderful names. There was Tjaven, Falk, Jair, Eugen and my favourite Lord Hoopmann. I shit you not. He didn't play, but I was ready to regale him.

Tim Buchwald - Book Forest

 We started ok. And it was a bit of a suprise when in the 6th minute, "Bubi" Bremer clipped a lovely ball down the right flank to Jonas Abram, who cut inside his man and floated a peach of a cross onto the stooping head of Tim Buchwald. 

In the 14th minute came the leveller. Once again, we were woefully exposed down the right, ball was crossed in and Mazan Moslehe smashed home from 10 yards.

But that was it really. Although the performance was 100% better than against Göttingen, it seemed that TSV just wanted it more. They were technically better, and first to most balls in the middle of the park. Having said that the next real chance came VfL's way, with a looping header coming off of the crossbar. 

Went into the break at 1-1.

In the second half I went down the other end and joined the only two Bückeburg fans that have ever spoken to me. In fact before the game I was trying to glean some info into why they were banned from travelling on the coach, due to a hullabaloo in Stelingen. As I was probing said fan, some horrid oik in the balcony above me just butted in our conversation and took over. This is probably why I can't be bothered with ingratiating myself to the "fans" of VfL. If you are reading this rude person, although I doubt you have the intelligence to a) read b) know English, you are a disgusting example of oafishness and please make yourself known to me at the next home match, where I will duly kick you in the bollocks and teach you all about manners. Rant over!!

A pair of bollocks

In the 68th minute TSV took the lead and indeed, I did mention the "B" word above. But two minutes later, we drew level. Once again a cross from Abram, confusion in the box and the ball falls to skipper Niko Werner who spanked it in from 12 yards. I did a little jig of joy when that went in.


Niklas Fritsche had replaced the inaffective Moritz Heine and added some pepp to our attack. So much so that five minutes from time, the Könnemann brothers combined and Pascal slipped in Bastian, who finshed with grand finesse to put us 3-2 up with five minutes left to play.


You can guess the rest right? 89th minute and TSV whip over a corner, The Tangerine comes out but the header is glanced in to make it 3-3. 


So, a point won or a 2 points lost? Hard to say. We were second best the whole game, BUT had the better chances, hitting the bar and having a shot cleared off the line in the second half. Another Friday game on erm...well...Friday of course, this time away to Rehden where I shall be attending. 

Chris Ashton

As I write this, just seen a great game of rugby in the world cup, England coming from behind (Fnarr, Fnarr), to beat Scotland, with a try from Chris Ashton, Toby Flood then converting, in the last minutes of the game.

Romford travel to Enfield Town, Orient take on Preston North End, Raiders play Milton Keynes and tomorrow myself and Mrs Reject will be attending Hannover 96 v Werder Bremen, so a great weekend of sport in store.

The Specials - E-Werk, Köln

The Specials

I waited a long time to see The Specials. One of the few bands from my youth which I missed the first time round. Then when they reformed, the gigs were in the UK and sold out within a few hours, so when I read they were playing 3 hours from me, I just had to get tickets. And I did. In January...for a gig in September. Nothing like being prepared is there?

This would mean me missing yet another Bückeburg game, this time away at bottom club Rotenburger SV. And would you believe it we win 2-1 after being a goal down. So two wins, and both times I have missed it. I think the football gods are trying to tell me something. I shall miss the next home game which for some bizarre reason is on a Friday, as I have tickets for Hannover 96 v Werder Bremen.

So it was off to a city which I despise, namely Köln (Cologne for all those anglophiles out there). Set off on Saturday midday and were staying overnight. 

Köln

 

 Whilst eating a meal, at a truly blinding gaff on the way to the venue, I checked my iPhone to see that Orient were 0-2 down at Huddersfield Town. Couldn't seem to find out how Romford were getting on at home to Needham Market, and Hannover earned a creditable draw away at Augsburg.

Turned off the phone thinking we had suffered yet another defeat, only to find Mrs Reject smiling at me, whilst looking at her phone. We had scored 2 goals in the last five minutes to draw. Kevin Lisbie with his first goal for the O's and Ben Chorley with the equaliser.

Big Ben Chorley

I was happy. May have also had something to do with the copious amounts of Weissenbier I had quoffed in the pub. And finding out that Romford had held one of the favourites at home to a 1-1 draw, Chuck Duru with our goal, I was feeling cock-a-hoop!

Our very own Chuck D

 The gig!


Phenomonal, what more is there to say? Although, I thought the vocals of Terry Hall and Neville Staple could have been cranked up a couple of notches. 


All the favourites were trotted out, complete with an encore. However, I was waiting for "Ghost Town", which they surprisingly didn't play. 


Atmosphere was good, as was to be expected. Venue, was also excellent but I have been there so many times, it is almost like a second home. 


Off to Bückeburg on the Sunday and more good news. In the Essex derby, Romford Raiders beat Chelmsford Chieftains 5-4 to maintain their 100% record. Even AJ Smith played with a mashed up thumb (against doctors orders).

Fellow Karl Pilkington fan, AJ Smith

Fantastic start to the season, and to be honest I can't really see us losing at all. It is bound to happen but to win ugly against your local rivals is pretty darn impressive. 

That's what it means for JJ McGrath

 

VfL Bückeburg 2 v RSV Göttingen 05 3

                                                                                   Bad, bad weekend for my teams. Leyton Orient lost at home, after taking the lead through George Porter, his first goal for the club, against Oldham Pathetic.

Georgie Porter with his 1st Orient goal

It is now only us and S*unthorpe who have not won in League One this season. Rumours are circulating that Steve Tilson or Aidy Boothroyd are being lined up as a replacement for Russell Slade. Even the name of Mark Robins has been banded about. 

Flag proudly displayed at The Emirates last season. Is time up?

              Romford had a tricky FA Cup tie, away to Southend Manor of the Essex Senior League. And prompty whimpered out 2-4. Cup run over for another year.

Captain, Paul Clayton, scorer of one of Boro's goal

One ray of light was the marvellous Romford Raiders, who went to Bristol and pulled off yet another victory, this time 7-2. Matt Turner with 2+1, turning in a MOM performance.

Super Matty Turner

 So to this afternoons game and I was feeling confident. We won 4-2 away to Eintracht Braunschweig II last week, obviously I wasn't there as was celebrating my first wedding anniversary on the Baltic coast. 

We were above Göttingen in the league, so a point at least was in the bag. Oh, how wrong could I be?

From start to finish, the Bückeburg team were abysmal. I wrote a couple of blogs ago about not having the time to dwell on the ball too long, and the accurary of passing. Today showed that I am in the Pep Guardiola school of managerial thinking. There was no idea. No passion. Second balls were not won, or even contested for the most part. Marking, particulary at the back was non-existant. The only player to come out of the game with any credit was Tim Engler in goal, as there was nothing he could do, being woefully exposed on each occasion. 

We went into the break at 0-0, Göttingen being reduced to 10 men after an elbow in our area. But we showed we had the spine of a jellyfish, with an inept display against a Göttingen team that were in truth, nothing special.

VfL Bückeburg v Göttingen. In other words: Spineless

I am not going to comment on the second half. RSV stormed into a 0-3 lead, and we got two late goals, one a scrambled effort from "Bubi" Bremer, the other a penalty from skipper Nico Werner, but it was too little too late, and if I am honest, the two goals were not deserved.

The Göttingen support was terrific. Their merry band of souls, complete with flags, banners and a fantastic array of songs, drunk and sung their team to victory. Although I thought I had ended up at a Cure concert, they were all dressed in black.

Göttingen fans?

 If I am at the Göttingen game, I shall probably stand with the Cider Boyz (the link escapes me what Göttingen has to do with cider, unless they have some tenous link with Yeovil Town or The Wurzels). Anyone with a "Hate Fascism" flag is alright in my book. The right way to support a club, what did Bückeburg have in return? The usual bloke who looks like he got lost on the way to Led Zepellin concert, blowing some sort of horn, and the man with the flag, which can't even be hung up straight! 

Göttingen fans

Good songs. Heard Hey Jude, some techno pap, and even at one stage the East German anthem, I am assuming with different lyrics. Good couple of songs in English too, although they need to work on the pronunctiation of "Team", in "We all follow a yellow football team".

 After the final whistle I wanted to do a "Sitton" and steam into the dressing room ranting how "I wanna be out there", etc...

So disapointing! 

It's a funny old game!

Frank Rjikaard - my hero

So said Jimmy Greaves. Only he didn't. It was Harry Enfield on Spitting Image that first coined the phrase, but has been attached to Jimmy ever since. 

There was a time when football existed before Sky. Before the Premier League. Before all seater stadia, cheerleaders, face painting and jesters hats. Some say these were simpler times. I am not sure if it was any better in "the old days". 

The racism and homophobia has all but disappeared. Facilities are better. You can now turn up 5 minutes before kick off, take your seat, and munch happily on your prawn sandwich. Watch the "pre-match" entertainment. When I first started attending football, this was the fights on the terracing, now it is scantily clad ladies with pom poms. 

A prawn sandwich

So is it better? I remember the away terrace at Reading's Elm Park ground. The toilet facility was basically a brick wall. No roof! No washing facitlites. Just a brick wall you weed against. So toilet wise, yes!

Following Leyton Orient up and down the country was a really thankless, stupid thing to do. We once went nearly 2 years without winning an away game. TWO YEARS. Think about that. Every week we would turn out, in the vain hope, "This is the one, this is it lads". It never was. But spirit in the face of adversity and all that, we were a rag tag bunch of old sweats, alhohlics, indie kids and general buffoons. It bonded us togther. So much so that on the coach to one away game, The Hood Squad was formed.

More to come when I can get some photos!