Up the Junction

Junction v Christchurch

Oldham Roughyeds v Haydock

Uppermill v Atherton Town

Ashton United v Matlock Town

Various on-call swaps over the last couple of months had seen me pick up two consecutive weeks, which includes three Saturdays.  This necessitates being within easy reach of the beating heart of the railway, so it is a few weekends of relatively local jaunts.

I had plans for a few games around Manchester, based around the rugby challenge cup, but knowing that the lower levels of non-league in Bez-land, would declare their pitches waterlogged if Deidre Barlow cries near them, heavy overnight rain meant I stayed east of the hills to start with, until it could be confirmed that there were actually some games to go to.

So it was onto the 0920 off Sowerby, which was one of the refurbed three car 158s.  

This was taken on a one shack hop to Brighouse.

Where it was onto an X63 heading for Huddersfield.  I was holding my phone upside down so didn't notice that I had my hand over the camera lens, but I think I got away with it.

I was off at Fartown, on the edges of Huddersfield.

I was starting with a game from the Yorkshire Christian League.  The great bit about their website, is that in order to check the fixtures, you have to negotiate the daily verse.  It's normally something like 'If you can't see the bright side of a situation, polish up the dark side and look at that instead'.  Today's was a bit more deep.  I really don't understand religion.



Today's game was at the rather grand sounding Deighton Sports Arena, which is actually a few pitches near some waste ground.  However, my search only found some kids games.

A bit pissed off that it appeared the game was off when others were going ahead, I headed for the station.  However, from the main road, there was another tier to the complex, which housed another pitch.

My previous visits to watch games here had been approached from the station, so I'd assumed that this pitch was the one that the kids games were on, I'd never considered that there were two levels.

Sure enough, amongst the joyriders tyre tracks and dog shit, I had found my game.

Junction 1 v Christchurch 0, Yorkshire Christian Football League

The Yorkshire Christian League is slightly different to others in that a lot of the teams are actually sides from exisiting clubs, rather than being affiliated to churches in the area.  I think that Junction are the same outfit who also play in the Huddersfield and District league.  They were formed in 2013 in Salendine Nook, to the west of the town, after Westend, the local club, disbanded.

Christchurch do appear to be a side of a religious persuasion, but don't seem to be tied to a particular church.  They only started up this year and are based in Featherstone, but play their home games in Wakefield.

Deighton is situated on the east of Huddersfield and the pitch is cut into the hillside, and looks out over the hills of Heaton, which separate the town from Dewsbury. 

The south end looks out over Emley Moor, with its giant TV mast.  The weather changes in the blink of an eye, so the mast appears and disappears at a rate that David Blane could only dream of.

I made the mistake of wandering around the pitch, as the home side had a ploy of shooting from anywhere, and I was tasked with retrieving wayward attempts from marshy areas of the fields.

However, somehow one of them did go in.

The previous game I'd watched here was in a snowy December, and was disrupted by kids sledging down the embankment and ending up on the pitch.  The scars of the Kirklees Cresta Run were still evident.

This being the other option for getting down from the higher level, somewhat reminiscent of the nearby decaying Fartown complex.

Bloody indiscriminate dog shit.  It smells a lot worse than shit that has been discriminately distributed.

There were a few more chances. 

But I don't think there were any more goals.

I headed down the hill to Deighton station.

This is located on the main Manchester to Leeds trans-pennine line.

However, the services that call here are stoppers on the Wakefield-Huddersfield connection.

This took me into Huddersfield.

Where it was onto a Liverpool bound TransPennine Express service.

It now seems compulsory for any train on a Saturday, to be hosting a travelling hen party.  This is the standard remains of such a gathering, half eaten M&S tapas and Prosecco of a brand that problem wouldn't be familiar to master vintners.  Unless they too shop at Lidl.

I was off at Stalybridge.

Skillfully avoiding the hell hole that is the station bar on a Saturday, as hordes of ale trailers use it as a starting point for their conversion of the railway to Huddersfield into a travelling Wetherspoons.

This was much more tempting.  Good to see that late 1980s culture has finally made it to Tameside.  

With 45 minutes before kick off, and no sign of my bus, I decided to walk up to the ground.  This took me through the centre, and one of my favourite drinking haunts of the past.  An excellent bottle shop and micro bar on the left, with drinks interspersed with cheese from the deli on the right.

I also got to add to my collection of pictures of fake KFCs.  Why you want chicken to be crunchy, I don't know, why then spell it with a K, I really don't know.



Wandering up the road, and predictably, my bus rattled past.

The football ground is part of a strange complex that includes a gym and an Indian restaurant.

I was here to watch the rugby.  Obviously, this was rugby league, which is like union, except that it isn't shit and the crowd isn't full of arseholes.

Oldham Roughyeds 40 v Haydock 12, Ladbrokes Challenge Cup - Round 4

Oldham were one of the original clubs that formed the Northern Union in 1895.  They've had some success, winning the title on four occasions.  However, the Super League era has seen them fall from grace.  They were meant to merge with Salford and become Manchester, but went bust instead.  Reformed, but down the leagues, they lost their traditional Watersheddings home, and moved in with Oldham Athletic.  However, over time, they fell out with them, and moved to Whitebank 'Stadium', most famous for being the home of Glipton Grasshoppers, more commonly known as Jossy's Giants.  The ground is a decaying shithole, and barely passed grading for Championship 1.  Oldham's promotion to the Championship means they are playing their games at Stalybridge Celtic's Bower Fold ground.

Haydock is a village just outside St Helens.  It is most well known for the Haydock Park horse racing track, even though it is actually in Ashton.  The rugby team play in the North West Men's League.  Although there is not a defined pyramid in rugby league, at the top is Superleague, then championship and division 1, then the four conference divisions.  The NWML feeds into the conference, so Haydock are in effect at step 8, but are in the fourth round of the cup.

Bower Fold came into being in 1906, and was used by Stalybridge Celtic in their two seasons in the football league in the 1920s.

The original main stand was replaced by this pretty dull cantilever in 1996.

Opposite was a small cover (I recall it as being standing?) which was replaced by more seating in 2003.

At each end are covered terraces...

...of varying vintages.

The game was an early kick off as it was being streamed live by the BBC.  With the Challenge Cup guarding the players entrance to the pitch, we awaited the teams arrival.  However, at the appointed time, it was announced that kick off was being delayed due to 'completely unforeseeable circumstances'.

It appears these circumstances that were completely unforeseeable, was a slightly above average number of people trying to get in the one open turnstyle.  With the child mascots turning a funny shade of blue, eventually the teams emerged.

Despite the huge gulf in standings, the opening exchanges were all Haydock.

Which led to them scoring the opening try.

And then a second.

  
Haydock had brought a sizeable support with them, all wearing St Helens clobber.  They were fairly raucous, though not overly offensive.  This was until the PA put out an announcement that rugby league was a family sport so could they not swear.  They spent most of the rest of the game swearing, which is definitely the right response.

A welcome sight was a spectator watching the whole game in a motorcycle helmet.  This used to be a common site in the 1980s so it is good to see it is still happening.  Even better is when helmets are being used as stools before the game.

As time progressed, Oldham's very lively full back started to run the game, and they got a procession of trys.

Scoring at the top end was beneficial, as due to the 30° angle of one of the posts, there was a good proportion more of the regulation goals to score the conversion through.

This subdued the early excitement and Oldham ran out 40-12 winners.  Interesting fact about Bower Fold, is that the pitch is laid out on a perfect north alignment.

Though the game had absolutely trashed the pitch.  The official I spoke to said it only went ahead because it was being televised.

Good luck with this going ahead on Wednesday.

It was back on to the bus, which conveniently goes from outside the ground.

My next game was meant to be in the Manchester League, but from bitter experience, the chance of any game going ahead were pretty remote.  For once though, there was notification of the postponement.  Spot the impartial follow up from the drainage company who didn't get the contract for the major works that were done on the pitch during the summer.

As usual, there was no other info about what was on or off in the Manchester or Cheshire leagues, so I went for the heady heights of step 7.

So it was onwards to my second visit in a fortnight, to Asthton-Under-Lyne bus station.  

Onto the town circular service, with the Optare Solo M850 having gained a stench of damp since it worked the city centre Metro Shuttle service that it was originally ordered for. 

Arrival at the ground was signified by a burnt out Costcutter.

The ground itself being a lot more cheery.

Ashton United 1 v Matlock Town 0, Evo-Stik Northern Premier League - Premier Division

Ashton, as Hurst FC, have roots as far back as 1878.  They rose up through the Manchester league to the Lancashire Combination, then the Cheshire County.  Despite some flirtations with other leagues, they were in the North West Counties by the 1980s, then up to the Northern Premier in the 1990s, and a couple of seasons in the Conference North in the 2000s.

Matlock is the county town of Derbyshire, and these days is like an inland Skegness, full of bikers, arcades, and people from Nottingham drinking Strongbow in Wetherspoons.  The football club were formed in 1878, playing in the Central Alliance, the Midland Counties League before reaching the Northern Premier League in the 1970s, where they have been since.

Hurst Cross has been home to the football club since 1880, and is a very varied but tidy ground.

The main stand is slightly uninspiring, but replaced the original in 1990 which was just as inspiring. Of note is that the floodlights are placed around the stand, rather than as at other grounds where they are regimentally spaced, but are straight infront of a stand.

Opposite is a covered terrace which appeared in the mid 1990s.

Since my last visit, this stand has occurred, which seemed to be an extension off some shipping containers, and housed the more vocal home support.

At the opposite end, is this strange cover which very much appears to be of bicycle shed providence.

The ground has always been kept in a tidy state, with a lot of signage cheering the place up.

It was pissing it down with rain when I arrived, which saw only the most dedicated subs out on the pitch doing any prolonged warm ups.

The teams emerged, just as in the background, Knott Hill was disappearing into the mist.

There is normally a good view of the tower on Hartshead Pike, but this was as good as it got all afternoon.

The upside of the weather was that it brought the best @keepers_towel of the season, with this multi coloured offering from the Matlock goalie.

At the opposite end, not only had the home keeper foregone a towel, but he was also wearing extremely pale grey, with the rest of his team in a not too different white.



It was time for a wander around the ground.  Hurst Cross is always a favourite for a wander, as no surface remains flat for more than six feet, and it turns into a game of arcade Donkey Kong.

Up and down various steps...

...mindful of getting trapped in unexplained dead ends...

...and then the discarded barrels, awaiting to be chucked at you by a fat monkey.



Halftime and an opportunity for some shelter in the social club that fills one corner of the ground, in a ramshackle but homely way.

I am currently compiling an I-spy book of non-league.  You get 50 points if the social club has signs for a brewery that has been shut for more than ten years.  I've yet to work out how many points it is for one I've never heard of.

Though this has to be an even more obscure sponsor.

A new low in the modern J name stakes.  A Josh, Jack, Jody, Jake and a Joe.  This weeks 'good luck spelling that one ref' is the Matlock 5. 

Matlock obvious have middle class aspirations to uphold, and instead of guzzling down gallons of isotonic lucozade, were sipping on bottles of this stuff, which markets itself as 'unique blends of fruit juices, vitamins, botanicals and sparkling spring water'. 

Just after half time, Ashton scored with a breakaway and a well taken chip over the advancing keeper.

There was then a bit of stroppiness.  Although this might of been in the first half.

There were a few more chances.

But the game finished 1-0.

I walked back down the hill to the station, for a Huddersfield bound service.

This does all the shacks up the hill.  I had the option of transferring on to a non stop service at Stalybridge, but made the mistake of staying on the stopper, as a procession of half cut ale-trailers got on and off.  The beer and captive audience making them very self-confident about how amusing they were.  I was perhaps a more stern critic; finding the switch for the train lights, turning them off and then singing 'let's all have a disco' isn't funny for the 17th time in five minutes.  I was glad to leave them at Huddersfield.

Up to the east end bays, with my onward service arriving.  See if you can spot the chimney for the new waste incinerator.  Haven't the council done a great job of blending it in with the landscape? 

I was on the Leeds via Bradford service.

As the Victoria via Dewsbury service was late, I made a -10 connection at Brighouse, and was back into Sowerby while it was still light, just in time for the evening on-call phone conference.