Another Fine Mess, Stanley

On reflection, today would have been the perfect day to put into practice Phil’s long-cherished plan of spending the afternoon in the Fat Cat rather than going down to the DVS, particularly as some bright spark decides to keep our train waiting for a free platform at Donny just long enough for the train we’d usually catch to Sheffield - and the one a couple of minutes after that - to leave without us. Fortunately, today’s intrepid travellers (me, Jenny and Steve Ducker) catch a break when we pull into Meadowhall station in time to catch a tram which has been itself delayed straight up to Shalesmoor. It’s just as well, as Steve has to dash off early to meet his nephew. Phil is waiting for us - minus his dad, who still keeps promising to come for a pre-match drink with us but has a more important engagement with his caravan, or something - and we get to enjoy the sight of the pub’s resident cat tarting itself round various diners in the hope of getting a sneaky titbit, before being spooked by a terrier which has been brought into the pub and disappearing into a secret hidey-hole somewhere beneath our feet. It’s a hard life, being a cat.
Mind you, it’s also hard being a Rotherham supporter this afternoon. The weather is freakily wet and windy, and as Jenny and I try to secure the flag in place I’m convinced that al it will take is a rogue gust and one of us will be whisked away like Mary Poppins. The Accrington fans, who appear to have the highest flag-to-supporter ratio of any team in the division (including one belonging to the Accrington Ultras, which is a bit like calling yourself a Christian devil-worshipper…), are also doing their best not to be blown away. It’s obvious that the conditions aren’t going to make for a particularly good game of football, and this is exacerbated by the fact that Accrington haven’t just decided to park the bus, as dear old Jose would put it, but the entire National Express fleet. The swirling wind means the ball is in the air for much of the time, which plays straight into the hands of our former defender, Colin Murdock. The one thing we know about him is that he could happily head the ball away from now until the end of time - and that’s exactly what he does. There may be some goalmouth action at some point during the game, but most of the crowd has lost the will to care even before the second half kicks off. People have suggested that to make football more exciting, there should be no points awarded for a nil-nil draw. I don’t agree with that, as goalless games can feature plenty of incident, and there can be much pleasure to be had from watching a determined defensive performance. However, Accrington’s tactics, although they ultimately prove fruitful, can only provide ammunition for those who think that goals should equal points.
As Jenny is due to go off on holiday with her brother and sister, she’s staying in Rotherham, so Steve and I head back to Doncaster and the Corner Pin. There, we get chatting to a bloke who pegs us as real ale aficionados (the fact we’re snaffling the last couple of copies of the Donny Drinker could be the giveaway). He explains that he’s starting up a brewery in Thorne, which is designed not so much to generate profit but to create employment in the area. He’s recruited a brewer who’s previously worked for the well-regarded Abbeydale Brewery and is looking for people who are willing to invest a small amount of money in the scheme; the plan is they’ll be paid their dividends in beer rather than cash. It’s an unusual idea, but it might just work…
The train journey back is spent perusing the tables in the Green ’ Un, Steve being a bit of a stats freak on the not-so-quiet, and discussing the merits of vegetarian haggis (the fact it doesn’t come wrapped in a sheep’s stomach apparently being the main one). Roll on Tuesday night and Luton, because given their position in the league and their desperate need for points, the last thing that game is going to be is dull and defensive…