Widnes Protection Programme

West Bank Bears v Heysham Atoms

Runcorn Town v Stalybridge Celtic

Well, a day in North West Lancs had been planned, with an early kick off at Lytham Town, then Garstang and both Atherton clubs.  

That was the plan, except during the week I'd had some wardrobes installed, of which the fitter was very proud of his completed his handywork, with just one remaining job to do.

Which was to fit the handles.  But rather calamatously, he managed to drill the screw holes int he wrong place.

So I spent Saturday morning waiting for five new wardrobe doors to arrive.  Thankfully, these had arrived my midday, so I could still get a couple of games in.

It was the 1233 semi-fast off Sowerby.

Into Victoria.

Across to Piccadilly and the squalor of the through platforms for a Liverpool bound East Midlands service.

Which was taken through to Widnes.

This is the stations greatest claim to fame.  Paul Simon was on his way back from an evening gig in Liverpool, and had been dropped at Widnes, and whilst waiting at the staion for the night train back to London, where his new girlfriend was waiting, he started penning the song.  His take on events is quite a fair summary; "if you'd ever seen Widnes, then you'd know why I was keen to get back to London as quickly as possible".

The station is right on the northern outskirts of the town, and with my destination the river, it is a bit of a trek.  This part of Widnes isn't that bad, as it looks down towards the bridge.

However, you then get to the centre, which definitely is that bad.  The Conservative club looks like a derelict tyre fitters.  Strong and steady.

The only club in the town, with the windows displaying what Widnes thinks is the greatest bands of the last three decades.

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to visit the chemical museum.  Actually, having read about it, I am now genuinely disappointed, as the museum details the social history of the chemical industry and bridge building in Halton and Teeside, which would actually interest me (trains and non-league are at the more normal end of my range of interests).  It also contains the Alchemy Theatre, which sounds great.  Instead I had to content myself with the North West's most alliterative road sign.

And another, this time with M.

Now, I wasn't expecting much from a ground that is located under a flyover in Widnes, but even with that forewarn, this was still one of the most desolate first views of a ground I have had.

It has been decided that the ground having a motorway slipway down one touchline isn't enough, so the Mersey Gateway scheme is building a new bridge across the river, with construction encircling the ground and forming a maze for pedestrian access.

But eventually I arrived.

It was a good job I wasn't relying on a taxi to the game as they all seemed to be randomly abandoned at the entrance, next tot he much welcome 'no dogs' signage.

Which meant that rather than getting to run on the pitch, shit everywhere, constantly bark and jump up at people as the owner looks on inactively, instead these two watched from beyond enemy lines.

The complex has a couple of pitches, one joint rugby and football, but my game was commencing on the main rugby pitch.

West Bank Bears 42 v Heysham Atoms 20, North West Men's League - Premier Division

West Bank Bears were previously Widnes West Bank.  They have had spells up in the conference, including a season playing as Chester Wolves.

Heysham started life in 1983 as the rugby union side of Heysham Power station.  However, they soon realised how shit union is, so switched to league, changing the name from Heysham Power to Heysham Atoms, and joining the North West Counties league.

The main pitch is railed off and has dugouts on opposite sides of the ground.

As would be the theme of the day, it has vastly contrasting views.  Looking back towards the clubhouse you get to look at a toll road being built.

Whilst in the opposite direction, is not only the access road to the B&M bargains distribution centre, but also a magnificent railway viaduct. 

The viaduct is the approach of the main Liverpool-Crewe line, up to the bridge over the Mersey and Manchester Ship Canal.

The more dominant road bridge is also visible in the background, but I was more taken by the wind flags at the top of the posts, which are uniquely the club initials.

To add to the bucolic ambience, the far touchline is overlooked by a pallet recycles.  

This is also the location for public executions in Halton, and the gallows were in place in the corner, complete with picnic tables so families can make a day of it.  Or it could be a scoreboard, who knows what post-Brexit will bring.  Well, I think we all do, a nose-diving economy.

There was a fair sized crowd of a very varied demographic.  However, they had mostly taken up position on the near touchline.  Which of course meant they didn't get the opportunity to see...

...the trains.  So first off London Midland's 1L79 1334 Liverpool Lime Street to Birmingham New Street sees Heysham take the early lead.

In the other direction, 1F43 1236 Birmingham New Street to Liverpool Lime Street sees a West Bank score being kicked.

A rare moment of play in the centre of the field as Virgin's 1F16 1207 London Euston to Liverpool Lime Street nears journeys end, probably with a trainload of corporates heading up for the golf at Birkdale.

More Pendolino action as 1A42 1347 Liverpool Lime Street to London Euston heads past another score for the Atoms.

Back to a Desiro as 1F44 1301 Birmingham New Street to Liverpool Lime Street is framed by the hybrid rugby and football posts.

Running ECS due to having no guard, 5L80 1450 Liverpool Lime Street to Crewe gets to watch a small bald bloke call the ref a 'shithouse' repeatedly for not giving a knock on that only he had seen.

More excitement as Heysham scored, with small bald man going apoplectic that it had been given, and appearing to be unable to stop shouting 'referee, you're a disgrace, you're a disgrace referee'.  His rather basic looking mate then ran onto the pitch to tell the referee this, to which the official, rather understandably, ordered the person off the pitch.  This sent small bald bloke into a breakdown, as he instead ordered that it should be the ref who got off the pitch and his mate should be allowed to stay there.  This then got into a bit of a weird stand off as the bloke on the pitch suddenly became self aware that he was holding up the whole game, but the alternative was to face the eternal wrath of small bald man.   

In the end, small bald man weirdly decided he was taking the moral high ground by ordering his mate off the pitch, who by looked to have been frozen in a state of confusion.  This allowed the kick to be taken, to a backdrop of a loop of ''referee, you're a disgrace, you're a disgrace referee'.

The players then decided the lesser of all evils was to go nowhere near small angry bald man, as West Bank ran in a number of scores to win 42-20.  This was disappointing, not that I had any interest in the score, but I was very interested in seeing what higher levels of anger the bloke could have gone, if Heysham had scored any more.

So onward to my next game, which gave me the opportunity to walk through an industrial estate.

To a slip road.  How desperate must an area be that warnings have to be put on doors advising that no valuables are kept in the support leg of a flyover?

But I did get the opportunity to take in the flyover itself, as this led up to the bridge over the Mersey which I was having a wander over.

The view from the bridge is down to Spike Island, a reclaimed toxic-waste dump which was the venue the legendary 1990 gig by Gary Clail and a Zimbabwean drum orchestra.  I think the Stone Roses had a support slot as well. 

The Silver Jubilee Bridge was built in the late 1950s to replace the transporter bridge who's capacity was indaequate.  Although a supension bridge would have been the normal option, the wind deflecting off the adjacent railway bridge would have caused problems, so a steel through arch design was chosen, similar to the Sydney Harbour Bridge.  The walkways are cantilevered off the sides.  My love of heights made it another white knuckle ride for me.

Onto the other and an immediate greeting of a local theme.

And yet more glorious scenes.  The opening of the bridge created issues in that a previous sleepy backwater, suddenly had 50,000 cars a day dumped on it, and so a lot of it disappeared under a complex road interchange.

A wander down a slip road took me to the canal.  Just beyond the bridge is the former home of Runcorn FC, who were very surprising early winners of the conference, but have since gone bust.  They were founded in 1918 as the wonderfully named Highfield and Camden Tanneries Recreation Club, working up the Cheshire, Northern Premier to eventually reach to the Alliance Premier League, what is now known as the National league but known as the Conference to all normal people.  Surprisingly, they then won the Alliance in their first season.  Although they were not able to repeat this success, they did remain at that level for another 15 seasons.  However, in the early nineties, their rather decrepit Canal Street ground either blew away in storms or fell apart when Hull visited in an FA cup game.  So in 2000, they cut their losses and sold the ground.  They took the opportunity to move into Widnes RLs reply rebuilt Halton stadium, and in recognition of the new location, added the districts name as a suffix.  However, the high costs of the ground were not matched by any new support, and as proceeds from the sale of Canal Street were whittled away in the usual veil of mystery, the club had to move as it had no money.  Groundshares at Southport and Prescot saw crowds plummet, even more so when a fans club, Runcorn Linnets was set up, and they gave up mid season in 2003.

I was walking in the opposite direction, but the canal stopped abruptly at a concrete wall.

I passed this place, which at first I thought was actually another example of missing letters, but is actually a Buddhist temple.

Passing the station, with a Liverpool bound Virgin service departing.

The opening of the road bridge suddenly meant Runcorn was a possible commuter town, and has seen residential expansion. 

Though this has taken place on the hillsides above the chemical works, so this is the view the lucky residents get. 

I dropped down to here for my next game.

The complex is the former ICI Weston Recreation Club.  

It now goes under the name of the Pavilions Club.

Slimming World, taking over non-league by stealth.

The second great ground entrance of the day.

To get to the actual pitch, you pass this former ground.

This was the one time home of General Chemicals FC, and one of three pitches where I'd seen football played on in the complex.

General Chemicals were formed as a works team in the 1950s, and played in the West Cheshire League.  

They seemed to repeatedly switch venues between here and Picow Farm Road which is just up the road.

In their latter years, they were seperate from any of the works organisations, and took on the name Halton FC.  

However, they ceased to exist in 2010, and the ground has been abandoned ever since.

Beyond lay the actual ground I was looking for.

From previous visits, the most notable structure at the ground, seemed to be a decorative turnstile block, but any signs of beauty had been carefully hidden by palisade fence.

Probably more ornamental from the inside.

Runcorn Town 2 v Stalybridge Celtic 2, PRe Season Friendly

Runcorn Town started off life as Sunday league side CKD in 1967, but by the 1970s they had changed their name to Mond and were playing in the Warrington and District League.  They merged with the footballing section of ICI Weston, and moved up to the West Cheshire league in 1988.  Here they stayed for another 15 years until the demise of Runcorn Halton, saw them take up the mantle of senior club in the town, and a name change to Runcorn Town and after a few years of trying, promotion to the North West Counties in 2010.   

Stalybridge Celtic were formed in the early 1900s and soon turned professional in the Lancashire Combination.  They were one of the founders of the Football League Third Division in the 1920s, but resigned after a couple of seasons, despite being one of the better supported clubs.  They rejoined the Cheshire league, where they stayed until it morphed intot he North West Counties.  The 1980s saw progression up to the Northern Premier, and then the Conference in the 1990s.  They were relegated from the National North last season. 

The ground was developed during Mond's spell in the West Cheshire League, with a few recent additions.

On the far touch line is the main seating area.

Alongside is a short cover, which on a previous visit, I'd observed as having the most roof struts per area of roof covered.

Opposite is a rather brutal clubhouse and changing room block, as well as the original cover from the West Cheshire days.

The far end was open standing but has been cordoned off.

The near goal is hard standing, with the main clubhouse behind a sea of mobile phone masts.

Adding to the technology, there is an old favourite at the far end with power lines running across the pitch, the people of Runcorn being only a Martin Hicks clearance from being without mains electricity.

It is fair to say that no one has ever mistaken the view from the ground with the foothills of Machu Picchu.  This used to be a chemical works but that wasn't unsightly enough so it is now a waste recycling power station.

It was a lively start to the game with some people running, either after the ball or else to escape the toxic waste clouds.

Stalybridge hadn't yet bothered to get numbers on their shirts and were rightfully punished with an early goal.  

Possibly another goal.  Who cares?

A save.

An attempted back heel through two defenders and the keeper, doesn't make it past the first defender.

If Chester supporters put as much effort into organising their club as they do stickering every piece of street furniture in the north west, then perhaps they wouldn't be as susceptible to the predatory advances of Liverpudlian asset strippers.

Another goal, which made it 2-2 by half time.

There was actually a bit of @nonleague_train action as a freight service arrived with a load of household waste containers.  Unfortunately this ran round at Folly Lane and then propelled in, so only the wagons were visible, rather than the train loco.

There was no score in the second half and the game finished 2-2, with no obvious difference between the two levels.

I left the home supporters to applaud there giant, well, not killers, holders maybe.

The walk back was through the serenity of the chemical works.

So much so that the presence of an industrial estate was actually a welcoming sight.  On the left is the Picow Farm Road ground which was the original home of General Chemicals FC, who's derelict ground had been seen earlier.

The pedestrian access to Runcorn station is somewhat understated... 

...which matches the station itself.

It was onto a Liverpool bound London Midland service.

This immediately heads across the Mersey.  Runcorn Railway Bridge, known as the Ethelfleda Bridge or the Britannia Bridge, opened in 1868.  It used to have a pedestrian footpath attached, but this closed when the adjacent road bridge opened in the 1960s.  I have to say, I prefer crossing the river this way. 

Coming off the bridge, and passing the rugby ground from earlier.

It was a short hop onto South Liverpool Parkway.

The usual conductor fuck wittedry meant we were awaiting a couple of minutes for the doors to open, so I missed a tight connection onto the TransPennine, so instead it was onto the all shacks Northern service.

This was taken through to its destination of Manchester Oxford Road, which was my first ever use of the bay platform there. 

Which is perhaps more memorable for me as my office window overlooks the platform in question.

It was a race across the centre, not because I had a tight connection, but because it was threatening to absolutely lash it down.  Fortunately, this held off until I got to Victoria, but my onward move arrived in amid a massive downpour.

And we managed to outpace the rain back to Sowerby, giving me chance to get from the station back home, just before the heavens opened.