Chard Would

Chard Town v Almondsbury UWE

A pretty straightforward trip out today, but the ground, oh what a joy.

There was a threat that this could be Chard’s last game at Denning Field, due to the sloping pitch falling foul of ground grading, so a re-visit was a must. The plan was to start with the midday kick off of Clevedon United v Cutters Friday in the Somerset league, but not waking up until gone 11 put paid to this.

So it was an HST from Swindon to Bristol, where an early arrival meant a minus connection onto a Cross County Voyager to Taunton was made.

The earlier arrival meant some time before the bus departed, so the madhouse that is the Plough was visited. This pub is too far out even for the Guide. It has pumps, but I’ve never seen anyone order from them, instead, there is a line up of about 12 unmarked scrumpy barrels behind the bar, from which the locals hold up fingers to denote which one they want. Round these parts, at least 50% of the people can order from all 12.

Fortunately, they also have some cask inn, a Quantock – Ginger Cockney and a Cottage – Conquest being had. The man mountain of a South African landlord enquired if I was here to pay my respects to Derrick. I responded that no, I didn’t know he was, to which I was told he was a bigger loss to the Taunton music scene than Prince, which was probably fair comment.

The GBGs in Taunton were all dud and are away from the centre, so I took my chances on the Alehouse, which, against its name, had a selection of Doombar or Wadworths – George and Dragon, I succumbed to half of the latter.

My next move was for cheese, and off to the Country Stores, which is a bizarre set up, like the world’s biggest Nisa. However, they did have some localish cheese and beers, which were procured for later.

By now it was nearing time for the bus, so it was off to the recently rebranded bus station.

It is quite a small bus station, so services have to share a rank. For some reason they have put the 28 to Minehead and 30 to Axminster. This is illogical as they both depart at xx35 so one has to use another of the four unused ranks. Rather handily, the main map for the company, lists all the guide pubs on their network.

An hour or so later, heading south through the cheese making centre of Ilminster, we were at Chard Guildhall. Chard had been a market town for local agriculture, but took off in the 18th century when it became a big textile centre for manufacturers relocating from the luddite issues in the North.

Strangely, Chard is still a centre for technology manufacturing, being home to Brecknell Willis who make pantographs which is the bit that sticks out the top of a train and makes contact with the electric wires. It is also home of Numatic International Limited, which some may recognise, but more of them later.

Anyway, this home of technology title is somewhat contrasted by the main street having open drains charging through the middle of the market.

The football ground is immediately behind the main street, and the floodlights were spied from it.

The ground is the only one I know of that is located on a street beginning with Z (follow up, Millwall also do). It is often known as Zembard Lane instead of its official Dennings moniker.

This was a dirt track but a school has now been built opposite and it is now properly metalled, showing the first signs of the ferocious slope.

So here we are.

The Toolstation sign is rather crudely screwed to the Great Mills sign that betrays former sponsors of the Wester League. No idea what happened to the illustrious Screw fix direct sign.

Chard Town 1 v Almondsbury UWE 0, Toolstation Western League, Division 1.

Chard Town were formed in 1920 and played at the wonderfully named Bonfire Close, playing in the Somerset Senior League, winning the league and county cup on a number of occasions. Early in their existence they had moved to their current ground, and in 1976 joined the Western League, regularly bouncing between the divisions ever since.

Almondsbury UWE were formed in 1969 as Patchway North End, playing in the lower levels of the Bristol leagues for a long time. However, in 2001 they won the Bristol Suburban League, were promoted to the Gloucester County, which they won in 2004 and joined the Western league. They had moved to Almondsbury in 1989, after a long list of clubs had failed there (though strangely, most of them played in the Hellenic) and then linked up with the University of West of England in 2009, hence the current name. The ground is right on the M4/M5 interchange.

For once getting to the game early, meant time to visit the clubhouse in which it was pleasing to report another non-league club with ales on, with a Cheddar – Gorge Best and Young’s – Double Chocolate Stout being on tap.

I had visited once before. When Merthyr Tydfil went bust, they reformed as Merthyr Town in the Western League. Also in the league were Chard and Malmesbury Victoria. So what you say? Well, I told you to keep Numatic International Limited fresh in your mind. Well, their most famous product is the Henry vacuum cleaner. Malmesbury is the birthplace of Dyson and Merthyr the home of Hoover. So for one season only there was a UK Vacuum cleaner triangular tournament. However, only I seemed to notice this, or even care about it. Even the Kempster forum thought my excitement was odd. Anyway, come the event and Malmesbury went bust so only the Chard – Merthyr games were completed. Hoover beat Henry 4-2 on aggregate.

And so to the ground, and what a ground. Every new ground visited, which is just a railed off pitch and an atcost prefab stand, makes you dream of places like this.

The main stand is a lean to against the club house…..

….with a couple of rows of fixed plastic seating….

….every seat seemingly being of a different type.

At the far end of the stand was a small area of covered standing, in which the more vociferous supporters were closely huddled.

Opposite were two more areas of cover, but obviously not popular, being unused by the locals.

The dug outs had recently been replaced, but were of a joyous garden shed construction.

But enough of the formalities. Now to what sets the ground apart from any other. The slope, and oh boy, what a slope.

The FA had originally decreed that the slope is too great, and that they were being thrown out of the league if they did not find a new ground. However, a number of alternatives have fallen through, so the club have now been told they can carry on playing at the ground, but can’t enter the FA Cup or Vase, and can’t be promoted. Utter arseholes.

Is the biggest slope in senior football. Officially it is 12 foot end-to-end but I reckon that is complete bollocks, as the FA would shut it down straight away if the real measure was given.

The game takes on a completely different dimension, as one team tries to pass it intricately up the hill…..

……whilst the other team does everything in fast forward mode as they vainly chase the ball down the slope.  

Unbelievably, the slope used to be even greater, but at the top end was dug out….

…..and the spoil placed at the bottom end, meaning the pitch is on a plateau above the adjacent cricket pitch.

There was a textbook case of chunky assistant manager.

An equally chunky, yet more ginger, left back for the visitors, caused much hilarity by being completely dumbfounded by the slope so either fell over as he changed direction, or fell over as he was running so fast and couldn’t stop. I think the ‘Elite Mobility’ branding on his back is sponsorship rather than a nickname.

He took this quite badly and so started kicking people. A lot. The home team didn’t take so warmly to this which resulted in what I think is the first time I’ve ever seen a manager sent off at step 6. A good exchange of
Player – you need to get a grip ref
Ref – you need to keep your mouth shut
Manager – He wouldn’t need to open it if you weren’t so shit
Ref – You need to remove yourself from the dug out.

The slope also caused some speculative shooting. From this one…..

…the away keeper parried the ball straight into the goal, for the only score of the game, which was rather cruely recorded as an own goal against the keeper.

With a truly joyous game over, it was back to the high street for a bus on to Axminster, this one being a decker. In this case a TransBus Trident ALX400. This was previously run by First London, the obvious signs being the panelling where the second door has been filled in, and the blank route number on the rear, which only TfL buses are required to have.

The route took me into the farthest easterly reaches of Devon.

With half an hour before my train, I exited the bus in Axminster centre, but there was nothing there.

So I wandered down to the station, to be re-united with the bus.

Eventually in rolled a South West Trains, Exeter – Waterloo service. On the hour long ride up to Salisbury, I was joined in First Class by three Northampton Town players who were toasting their 1-1 draw with Yeovil with three massive pizzas, and bewilderment that one of their colleagues with a double fracture to his leg, had just driven them to the station in another players car.

I tucked into my earlier purchases from Taunton, which were bottles of Quantock – Stag and Cheddar – Bitter Bully, and a Lubborn – Somerset Camabert, Ilchester – Farmhouse Cheddar and a Blue Vinny.

At Salisbury, I headed to the wonderful railway themed Village Freehouse, to watch Everton spunk god knows how many chances, and also to consume a Red Cat – Gyle 120, Flack Manor – Flack Catcher, and halves of Downton Quadhop and Mad Hare. It was then over the road to the Duke of York, which always looks more like a second hand bookshop than a pub, for a Hyde’s – Jekylls Gold.

Then it was a late running Pompey – Cardiff class 158, seen here against it’s fancy 159 brethren (Network South East pimped their units with retention tank toilets and swankier seating than the Regional Railways offerings), which missed the connection at Westbury so it was to the hellhole that is Bath station when the rugby club have played, for an enduring journey back to Swindon.