Heanor Town v Shepshed Dynamo
Belper Town v Tividale
Friday January 1st
Off a nightshift and hopeful it would be uneventful in order to get off early. So wasn't best pleased to be called out to a fatality at 0500, then when I was there, another body was reported so we went and looked for that and indeed another fatality was confirmed. So the joy of dealing with two mutilated torsos in the first six hours of the New Year.
Originally I was heading for an afternoon game in Bromsgrove and an evening game in Aberystwyth, and on Saturday, down to Carmarthen. However, the Aberystwyth game was moved to the afternoon and the Carmarthen game was in doubt. So, a re-think was in order and instead Heanor was chosen for Friday, a night in Nottingham and then Matlock on the Saturday.
I had finished work in time for the 0840 Swindon - Gloucester, to change for a Cross Country service to Nottingham. With the demise of the Manchester Victoria/Exchange conglomerate, Gloucester now lays claim to having the longest platform on the UK rail network. Sods law meant my connection was from the far end of the platform....
....to the complete opposite end.
The only other people travelling were at the opposite ends of the spectrum, being either complete states making their way home from the previous night’s festivities, or they were dressed to the nines on their way to the New Year’s racing at Cheltenham.
My destination was Beeston on the outskirts of Nottingham....
....for the first pub of the day, the Victoria Inn adjacent to the station. The Vic has been a long standing guide pub for the area, though it was worrying that they have moved towards the first sign of a pub turning shit; making the bar staff wear all black (Goth pubs excepted). Fortunately, all was good with a Castle Rock - Elsie Mo.
Next was a move on to the Crown Inn. On the way, two large clusters of balloons floated by, then landed in a front garden which contained only a rotting reclining armchair and a gravestone. I'm sure it symbolises something.
The Crown rather grandly titles itself as a 'cask ale emporium' and a house Ashover - Crown Inn Amber was had.
Next was the third guide for Beeston, the Star in.
My choice was a Nottingham - Extra Pale Ale. This was their beer board, done in a very mathematical way, with the x-axis being colour and the y-axis being strength. An excellent idea, and not something I had seen before.
Directly outside the pub was the tram stop. The Nottingham tram network has recently had two new lines opened, both were required.
So it was out of town to Totton Lane to clear the first branch. Notice the original Incentro AT6/5 tram on the right, and the new Citadis 302 for the extension on the left.
Then back into town to the station, the tram stop having been built on a viaduct that crosses the station.
Just enough time to visit the Newshouse, for an excellent Totally Brewed - 4 Hop Men of the Apocalypse.
The poncy Canalhouse (they just put 'house' onto a word to make pub names in this area) was shut so it was onto the station for the 1417 Northern Rail service to Leeds, via half of Yorkshire.
Cheese was the individual portions of various strength Cathedral City that they are now knocking out at five for a quid.
Destination was the first stop of Langley Mill, with the waiting shelter being home to three youths in AFC Bournemouth shellsuits, filming trains.
Only as it departed did I notice who the train was named after. I'll see thee.
The only other person to get off the train looked every inch a groundhopper. However, he was using the help point when all groundhoppers carry a printed copy of the 1200 page all line timetable. However, he was actually using the help point to argue with the person in Mumbai that the information screens were wrong. As I walked out of the station, he accosted me, wanting to know where the Asda was so he could get a taxi to the ground. My response was that I had no idea where Asda was, but the ground was only a 20 minute walk and I was heading there. However, in the first 15 paces he asked me three times if we would get there in time for kick off. I'm always cautious of people who get to games for kick off as it means that either they are actually going there to watch the game, or else they are groundhoppers who won't count it as a tick unless they see every minute of the game. Either way, not company to be enjoyed. Eventually, matey boy was so concerned about missing kick off, he suddenly sprinted off without warning, never to be seen again
Heanor and Langley Mill have merged into each other. These back to back signs being the only notification of the boundary. Langley Mill seem to take civic pride a bit more seriously....
.....than Heanor. The town dates from Domesday times when it was based around agriculture, but came into prominence in the 18th century due to its Ironstone and coal deposits. As well as these primary industries, the town also developed a significant textile industry. With these all gone, Heanor first turned to publishing, being the home of Ladybird books, but now is the largest Christmas pudding maker in the UK.
Heanor seemed to be gravity defying in that wherever I went was uphill. I really don't understand what part hills play in modern society. We've had their useable minerals, so why don't they fuck off and be flat. The only people who would miss them would be skiers (wankers) and hill walkers (bearded wankers). The Dutch have got it right, not just in relation to soft drugs, pornography and discipline in world cup squads, but also in topography.
Eventually, having conquered mount Heanor, the floodlights for the ground were spotted....
.....which led to the main event.
Heanor Town 2 v 3 Shepshed Dynamo, Midland League.
Heanor Town have been in existence since the 1880s, but seem to be keen to play in every possible league, changing every few years. In the last ten years they have played in the Central Midlands, East Midlands Counties, Northern Counties East, and now the Midland League. Famous alumni are Nigels, Clough and Pearson.
Shepshed is one of those places people have heard of, but no one knows where it is. Somewhere near Loughborough is the majority verdict. The team have being going for a hundred or so years, but do love a suffix change. For the first 70 years it was Albion, then Charterhouse, then back to Albion, then the current Dynamo in the mid-nineties.
As both Heanor and Shepshed have both had fairly straightforward existences, this week’s lesson in 'why does non-league have to be so complicated' refers to the league itself. The Midland League was formed last year from the merger of the Midland Alliance and the Midland Combination. The combination was a Worcestershire based league that had been going since the 1920s. The Midland Alliance was only formed in 1994 when the top league of the Midland Combination broke away to form a league a step higher. So now they are all back together again, under a different name. This game was 3rd v 5th, with the league currently topped by the re-born Hereford outfit.
The ground is three sided, being shared with the cricket club.
There is a stand behind the goal and terracing down the side.
And an undetermined mascot behind the goal. Really, despite much studying I have no idea.
Shepshed scored midway through the half, then scored again later on, but this was disallowed by the Rastafarian referee.
With this being the only fixture of the day in Eastern England, a significant proportion of the 403 crowd were groundhoppers. Rather than try and do the it justice myself, here is a blog from another attendee, who to be fair, seems fairly normal himself, but introduces us to Mark from Alfreton Town's programme shop, Malcolm from Castleford, first met a few years ago at Widnes, Dave the former Glapwell kit man, and Michael a Chesterfield hopper. And another one from someone who appears to get to games a day before kick off, though does show the branded pool table.
The cricket pitch was host to an equally hard fought game.
When I arrived at the ground, they had run out of programmes. However, at half time more were available as the secretary had gone and printed a load, so much kudos to them for that.
The clubhouse served Harvest Pale, which I enjoyed at half time with an eclectic mix of inflatable Santa, fruit machines, and historical signage.
Heanor equalised, but Shepshed then went 1-3 up, before Heanor pulled one back with a late penalty, but it ended 2-3.
Heanor is home to two guide pubs. Firstly, inevitably through a cemetery on a hillside (Morrissey Earworm?) to the Marpool brewery tap, which is just a terraced house with the front room having a bar in it, for a house Backyard - Gold.
Up another hill to the barn like Butchers Arms, for an anonymous Pale and Hoppy. It had bugs bunny on the pump clip if anyone can identify it?
Back to the station and as I seemed to have spent the afternoon gaining enough altitude to give Edmond Hillary a challenge, I expected the route down to the station to be equivalent to the Cresta Run. But no such joy, and a gentle downhill prevailed. I am convinced that Heanor is the real world incarnation of Escher's Relativity. A 150/1 took me back to Nottingham, and up to the tram stop to take in the second new branch, to Clifton South.
Highlight of the journey was a load of kids on mountain bikes trying to get onto the tram, but being told in no uncertain terms by the driver to get off. So instead they held onto the tram as it hurtled through the outskirts of Ruddington, like Blazin' Squad doing police outriding.
As there were no guides on route, it was straight back into town to check in at a bargain 26 pound Ramada. I then attempted to clear the GBGs in town, but of the five, only the Sir John Borlase was open. So after a Lincoln Green - Marion, I headed back to the hotel to watch Notts TV football show, which had a 30 minute analysis of how Mansfield defend corners. I learned nothing.
Saturday January 2nd.
A leisurely start to the day and then headed down to Nottingham Midland for a move to Derby. Arriving a bit early, the London HST could be cleared for 3 miles 27 chains to Beeston
to pick up the Cross Country unit to Derby.
Football grounds viewable from the railway; Pride Park.
Coming into Derby you go past what was the BR Rail Technical Centre. This really did lead the world in train design, despite being investment starved, pioneering things like magnetic levitation and tilting trains. The latter is a case in point whereby the twisting UK rail network, meant the only way to get above 125 mph was to have tilting trains. BR designed the Advanced Passenger Train, but in the eighties, Thatcher cut off the funding for it just as it was about to come to fruition. The design was sold to Fiat, who perfected it and now sell the technology all over the world. The Virgin Pendolinos use it and, the cost that just the licensing of the mechanism for a single one of these trains, is equivalent to how much more BR needed to complete the project. What a great economist that women was. Anyway, now nothing is designed here, it is just used to maintain the antiquated stock Network Rail own.
With time to spare before the pubs opened, some more railway bits. Firstly the unused but still intact Rams Line Halt which was a platform adjacent to the Baseball Ground..
Next a zero milepost on Derby station. Most railway companies measured their mileages from London. However, the Midland did everything from this point on Derby station, meaning St Pancras is the only London terminus, that isn't at zero miles.
Anyway, first pub was the legendary Alexandra hotel. Although the Castle Rock - Preservation, was good....
....the railway memorabilia was even better.
And bars dedicated to proper drinkers or novelty jumpered harridans could only be bettered…
….if the car park had a class 37 cab and an immaculate Ford Granada in it. Oh look. (this is the no.1 end cab from 37 411, which in its various guises as D6990 / 6990 / 37290 / 37411 has carried the names; The Institution of Railway Signal Engineers, Ty Hafan, The Scottish Railway Preservation Society, Caerphilly Castle/Castell Caerffili. Checking the moves book, I a total of 425 miles off the old girl, mostly on the West Highland line.
Next door is the Brunswick brewpub, which is another outstanding offering. A house Brunswick - triple hop was had amid the more refined collection of railway pictures.
It was then back to the 1980s architectural monstrosity of a station, saved only by the Midland Railway crests....
....and the fence round the car par which incorporates various artefacts from the railway works into it. The works are still going, though a shadow of their former selves and owned by the Canadians Bombardier. My dad is from Derby and my great grandfather was a French polisher at the railway works. My dad often proudly shows a picture of his grandad in a line-up of a 1919 strike committee, called because those workers who had fought in the Great War, didn't receive any of the annual pay rises when they returned to work.
Move was an East Midlands dog box to Duffield.
Duffield was a station I used to pester my dad to bring me when I was a kid visiting my grandparents in Derby, as not only was there a procession of split head code box peaks on the main lines, the branch up to Wirksworth would often have something on test from Derby works.
However, the closing of the limestone quarries at Wirksworth saw the branch closed, but happily, it has been taken over by the Ecclesbourne Valley Railway.
They were one of the few preserved railways operating today and were advertising a DMU service so I was expecting a nondescript class 101 or some such like. However, I was delighted to find the 1950s Derby Lightweight unit 'iris' working. This was withdrawn in the 1960s but survived by being acquired by the aforementioned RTC who used it as a mobile workshop. It has now been preserved and restored to its original guise.
Halfway down the line, line side vegetation was being cut back. This had exposed a lot of discarded rubbish. The second man had to alight to open the level crossing and picked up a couple of cans and a carrier bag and handed these up to the guard. The bag was very see through and therefore it could clearly be read 'Razzle' through it. The guard put the cans in a bin but the magazines were stored away safely. Feeling lucky with his acquisitions, the guard then alighted himself and prodded around in the bushes, obviously keen to add his new findings, but with no success.
Into Wirksworth….
….and unfortunately the GBG in town does not open to 1600, and the National Stone Centre was also closed, so it was a bus onto Matlock Bath…
….to the Fishpond for an Ashover - Font.
Another bus took me under the cable cars that cross the gorge, and into Matlock itself.
First stop was unpromisingly trendy but actually alright Moca for a Dancing Duck - Abduction.
Next was the Thorn Tree but the walk to it took me past the football ground, which didn't show any sign of life.
Closer inspection revealed the games was off.
This had been a late decision, supposedly for a water logged pitch. Notice the castle on the hillside in the background.
Of note was the supporters club, which seemed to be more like a paramilitary wing.
A quick check of games revealed that Belper v Tividale was definitely on. So it was off to the station, and a quick scoot round the adjacent Peak Rail steam outfit...
…before joining the 1437 Nottingham service. The platform on the right is for Peak Rail, who for an eternity have been trying to re-open the line to Buxton but currently only run a few miles to Rowsley.
This took us back down the Derwent Valley, including a stop at Cromford. Some might say they recognise this location.
Anyway, into Belper. The town grew up as the centre of UK nail manufacturing. Its location in the Amber Valley, then meant it became a pioneering mill town, not least because locals Richard Arkwright and Herbert Strutt were quick to adopt mechanisation and mass production, which was then adopted by many of the north west mill towns. The mills have now gone, to be replaced by Thorntons, the ‘I’ll look like a cheapskate if I turn up with miniature heroes but I’ll be fucked if I’m paying for Hotel’ mid-range confectioners. Tracy Shaw, who trailblaized making a reasonable career by playing a hairdresser in Coronation Street, despite having very wooden acting skills, a path many have followed since.
A short walk took me to the ground, arriving a couple of minutes after kick off.
Remind me, where is this again.
Belper Town 3 v 0 Tividale, Northern Premier League Division One South
Belper have been around since the 1880s, though they have had various relaunches. They have played in the Northern Premier league for the last 20 years or so, finally getting promoted to the premier a couple of seasons ago, but being immediately relegated. They are managed by ex-Derby/Notts County full back Charlie Palmer.
Tividale is a scruffy suburb of Dudley. This was the second time I'd seen them, the first time at their place in the FA cup in August. This is their second season in the Northern Prem, having spent most of their existence in the West Midland Regional league.
Belper are 16th, Tividale are 22nd or 'bottom markers' as the Chairman's programme notes strangely describes them.
The ground is located in farmland on the main road going out of town.
Although it has been home to the club since the 1950s, it has recently had major work done, with a pitch length stand down one side...
...and a covered terrace on the other.
The flags betrayed what the Grantham supporters had ended up after their game at Matlock had been called off.
The game was mostly Belper, but a lack of finishing meant it was 0-0 until just before half time when a speculative long range shot, ricochet off most players on the pitch, before bobbling into the goal to make it 1-0 to the home side.
The East Midlands accent is a strange one; anyone under 60 sounds like they are out of a Shane Meadows film, anyone over 60 sounds like Ken Worthington.
What the revised plans took away in the form of the Thorn Tree, gave back with the Arkwright in Belper, for a Bottle Brook – Pot of Gold.
Back at the station, there was OHLE issues on the East Coast, so all the services from Scotland were delayed. This meant my convenient move of a change at Derby onto a Voyager for an HST at Cheltenham and home for 2000 was trashed.
Instead, it was a voyager to Reading, for a man of steel minus three minute connection onto an HST, which got me back for the not unsociable time of 2038.
All in all, two new grounds, 19 Miles of new track, two new stations, nine guide ticks and 12 new ale ticks.
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