Night Out
James Morris goes to the ultimate NE Wales derby…
When mentioned to any true football fan, certain fixtures inevitably light up the eyes and trip off the tongue: Rangers vs Celtic; AC vs Inter; Liverpool vs Everton. The list of fixtures steeped in bitter rivalry, long tradition, and historical importance goes on and on. Mention to the same fan the line "Wrexham vs Cefn Druids" and sadly, but unsurprisingly, the response will be a blank and baffled stare. More than this, will be the said fan walking off chuckling merrily, or, to cap it all, the immortal lines "Druids against who?! (I jest!).
Anyway, I trooped off to Cefn Mawr (with a shocking hangover I might add) for the ridiculously early 1pm kick off. Why? What's wrong with three o'clock round these parts? Have they no consideration for those of us who might have overdone it a tad the night before? And, to cap it all, just as I arrived at the ground, the heavens decided to well and truly open, which I was particularly pleased about as I had arranged to meet my Druids-obsessed friend, Mark, at the game. Our pre-match 'phone conversation went a bit like this:
Me: "Alright Mark. Still up
for the game?"
Mark: "Yeah, I'll meet you there, OK?"
Me: "Fine. Listen, it's just starting to rain and I've got to sell
fanzines. Reckon I'll need me coat?"
Mark: "No, it's dead warm, it'll not do much, honest..."
Famous last words! It actually proceeded to tip it down for about half an hour prior to kick off, and for the entirity of the first half: I was soaked! Actually, I'd really like to thank the extremely kind and helpful turnstile operates for very generously allowing not only Paul Lindsay (my co-RP vendor) and I to sell the fanzine, but also sheltering inside his turnstile itself, allowing us first grab at the eager (and very generous!) punters: good work, fella!
It was also nice to see Plaskynaston Lane again, as the last time I had been here was for an under-12's encounter donkey's years ago, when the "facilities" basically consisted of a rickety-looking stand hovering at the side of the pitch, looking like it could come crashing down at any moment. So it was nice to see a nice little ground springing up, one with a fantastic homely atmosphere. There were three seating areas, an under-construction terrace, and the freedom of the whole ground to find a suitable vantage point, as well as a shaky and dodgy looking TV gantry and a (very optimistically I thought!) press box. But full marks went to the food hut: coffee and tea served in real (yes, that's real!) mugs to be returned after the match, and also to the clubhouse, featuring stacks of memorabilia and the chance of a quick pint at half-time.
Looking around the ground, there were also a few celebrity figures in evidence, not least Kevin Reeves in a very ill-advised shorts-and-shirt ensemble. Just to give you a picture: close your eyes, open the Littlewoods catalogue at the men's section, and randomly jab your finger at any page. If you've done this correctly, you should now be confronted with a bloke in some hideous shorts and garish shirt, lying on a yacht, pointing abstractly into the distance. This was our Kev. But in the rain. And in Cefn Mawr. Steady ladies...As well as Kev "Versace" Reeves, there was also a very dapper-looking Neil Roberts, who I'm reliably informed, is now burger-free, hopefully getting in shape to score us a hatful in the new season. That is, if a certain pint-sized manager decides to pick him! Finally, during half-time, I spotted the lord of the manor himself, the ever-generous and deep-pocketed Pryce Griffiths. I've never understood people who claim he's not committed to the club: he stood on the terraces as a boy, and, while not perhaps having the financial clout of many other chairmen, continues to run the club as a true and loyal fan. How many other chairmen would spend a wet Saturday afternoon watching their team play LOW opposition standing amongst the fans? Not many, I bet. Of course, the cynics will claim that he probably didn't know where he was, but that's another story...
As for the game itself, it was, all told, your standard pre-season affair, Wrexham clear winners by three goals to nil, and rarely looking troubled by the Druids. Given our last performance against LOW opposition (which will burn long in the minds of WFC fans for all the wrong reasons), I'm sure there were a few sceptics dotted around the ground, but they needn't have worried as it was a fairly convincing performance by the Reds. I was surprised by the strength of the team we put out: Deano, Gareth Owen, Walsh, Jake Edwards and Andy Morrell all showing their faces in the starting eleven. Out of these, Paul Barrett and his fellow deadline day signing, Michael Ryan, proved to be particularly impressive, with Ryan almost an exact double of Deryn Brace, working hard all afternoon and being rewarded with a well-struck penalty. Barrett, too, looked committed and, when I happened to be in ear-shot of him, certainly knows a few colourful Geordie expressions! However, I'm still not convinced by Morrell and Edwards. Morrell is one of the most anonymous players I've ever seen: what exactly is his contribution to the game? I mean, he scored here, but didn't really seem to know much about it. He comes across as almost totally invisible in most games he plays, and never seems to have much of an impact. Jake Edwards, on the other hand, has plenty of impact: predominantly of the "does this man know what on earth he's doing?!" Variety. During matches, he kind of muddles around, tries one or two clever things that never come off, makes a couple of (very!) laboured runs, and falls over a lot. Indeed, one chap standing next to me commented that Edwards "does a fairly good impression of a footballer when he's standing with his bottle in Club XS!".
Overall, then, despite getting a good soaking, it was a very enjoyable afternoon, providing a decent stop-gap between summer boredom and the footballing D-Day which is Blackpool on August 7th. And, although Wrexham rarely looked like coming out of second gear, it was a good, convincing performance against Barry Town. I'm still not convinced about the coming season, but we'll have to wait and see. And, I can say with every confidence, on those occasions when I can't make it to see the Reds, I'll definitely be coming back down Plaskynaston Lane to hopefully see this decent little club set the LOW on fire!
Dai, Neil & slow food
Paul Lindsay also goes to the ultimate NE Wales derby…
I had only ever been to Plakynaston on two previous occasions. The first of these was several years ago during the summer when I went to have a look round this famous old venue which at that time was seriously dilapidated. The second visit, a couple of years later was during our last season of fielding a side in the Cymru Alliance when nothing much had changed. However since chemical giants Flexys' takeover of the club I'd heard that a not inconsiderable sum had been spent improving the ground to bring it up to League of Wales standard to ensure that it met the ground criteria for that league when Druids won the Cymru Alliance Championship in May.
I arrived at the ground at 12.45 for the kick off at 1pm with fellow RP colleague Rod Jones, armed with a bag of RP9s and paid my £3 admission. The extremely amiable turnstile operator was more than happy to allow us to sell the fanzine inside the ground and even pointed out the best pitch. I told him that the ground had improved considerably since my last visit and he delighted in informing me that they now had 300 seats. Brisk business was soon done and even an early shower didn't deter the punters.
The game got under way and the largely young side with a smattering of experience, which included Owen, Spink, Edwards and Morrell settled into a rhythm. Flexys for their part fielded former goal machine Dave Taylor and some bloke doing a poor visual impersonation of David Beckham. Shortly after kick off Kevin Reeves arrived looking very summery in his polo shirt and leisure shorts and joined us in the main stand. Also joining us was Neil Roberts who took a front row vantage point.
Midway through the half myself and Rod decided to go and check out the catering. To describe it as fast food was be an offence under the Trades Descriptions Act, however the wait was well worth while and just before half time we were both in possesion of a large cheeseburger purchased for the bargain price of £1.10. Finishing just in time for break, we were suddenly inundated with fans wanting to buy the fanzine, one very kind gentleman asking for four copies. "It's not the programme you know I said" to which he replied that it didn't matter.
We started to wander round and found Neil Roberts hovering near the changing rooms. He'd already seen this edition and couldn't be persuaded to part with a pound. Further along to the right of the main stand was a grassy knoll, and on the top stood Dai Davies. Suddenly the crowd started to cheer and a shot rang out as the motorcade went past…Sorry, getting carried away a bit there!! Anyway Dai called us over and purchased a copy even advising his friend to do the same. We decided to venture inside the social club for a half time pint, one of the perks of semi professional football where the bar was doing good business. The tables at the end of the club were adorned with sandwiches and cakes for the post match buffet and sitting proudly on a plinth in the corner was the Cymru Alliance Championship Trophy.
The second half got underway and we decided to wander round to the far side where Joey was busy marshalling the troops. Wrexham continued to dominate the game and in the end the experience and fitness told as Flexys eventually succumbed and Ryan's penalty just before the end wrapped up what was essentially a comfortable victory for what was largely a Pontins league side.