The road to nowhere

The other problem is that it's a long way away, a short plodge from Great Yarmouth - or Quite Canny Yarmouth, as even its best friends might now concede - but a fair hike from Darlington.

We went on Saturday, FA Vase v Billingham Town, change at York, Peterborough and Norwich and home just in time to exclaim, like the ecstatic Scrooge after swallowing the last of the Three Spirits, that it had all been done in a day.

The Albany Northern League had five teams in the Vase last 32; Billy Town had travelled the previous afternoon, arrived without thanks to navigationally challenged team manager Alan Robinson, spent the night on orange juice.

Mr Robinson, who earlier in the season had tried to get from Billingham to Tow Law via Barnard Castle, had been given one of those computerised direction finding gizmos for Christmas.

"I couldn't get it out of the box," he said.

The team, in turn, couldn't get out of the hotel car park on Saturday morning after the team bus conked out. A garage leaped out with jump leads; £60 plus VAT.

Great Yarmouth appeared closed, almost the only road signs to sundry riverside "berths", as if all its berth days had come at once.

Gorleston, a five mile maunder away, was once a thriving herring port and genteel Edwardian resort. The Gorleston Psalter, an early music manuscript, is in the British Museum; The Feathers, a local pub, was mentioned in David Copperfield. With Yarmouth, it was also the most bombed town in Britain during World War II.

The two people from whom we sought directions both pointed towards the home (known as The Recca) that Gorleston FC left 20 years ago. "Oh my golly goodness," said one, when informed of the relocation.

The Emerald Ground, reflecting the team's colours, is now behind the post-war Magdalen Estate, an Oxbridge accented development with roads like Nuffield Avenue, Sheldonian Drive and Braesnose Crescent (a learning curve, presumably.) Even the pub's the Cap and Gown.

Since no one in Gorleston seemed even to know where the football ground was, however, we followed the public address system, like the Magi and the eastern star, though the needle seemed to have stuck on Spirit in the Sky.

The ground's tremendous, cover on all four sides, more seats than many in the third division and said in the non-league grounds guide to be one of the few modern stadiums that doesn't resemble a coal bunker. The crowd of 304 included about 15 others on Town's trail.

Two of the bairns had been bought corncrakes, £10 from a Great Yarmouth music shop which may risk prosecution under the Trade Descriptions Act; the adults had air horns, same price from Halfords.

It not the Trade Descriptions, Halfords may be liable under noise abatement legislation.

The first half was little to shout about at all, though it did little to silence the air horn concerto. In the second, Gorleston converted a penalty which from 110 yards away we could see was ball to hand and Billingham were awarded a free kick 20 yards from goal.

"If Swally takes it, it'll be over the bar," said Town's wholly admirable chairman Tommy Donnelly, with the club since its formation in 1967.

Andy Swalwell, maligned, stuck it sweetly into the bottom right hand corner. "Told you so," said Tommy.

Gorleston, whose former players had included Martin Peters, Mike Bailey, Dave Stringer and a sea dog called Sailor Brown, scored twice more thereafter, Gary Ingram completing his hat trick.

Swally had a 90th minute free kick, 20 yards out. He struck it over the bar.

Afterwards Tommy made a presentation to the victors and a very gracious speech, revealed that the last time they'd been down that way - Spalding Town, anyway - they'd come away with a broken ankle, a busted cartilage and a bunch of tulips.

"Today we only go back with a dent to our pride," he added.

Since bad news travels fast these days, it soon became known that three of the other Albany Northern League teams had also lost - two to Jewson Eastern League clubs, like Gorleston - and that Whitley Bay, the holders, were in extra time. (Mercifully, they won.)

For the Eastern League a cornucopia, as the horn blowers might put it. For the dear old Northern League, a pain in the guts and an awfully long way home.

The same weekend in last year's FA Vase we bumped into a ground hopper en route to Bemerton Heath Harlequins - Swindon, somewhere - v Great Wakering Rovers. The two clubs had more letters in their names than any other opponents in Vase history, he said.

John Briggs in Darlington now draws our attention to an FA website, inevitably entitled Hopping Mad, which seeks to discredit the notion that ground hoppers are in any way "sad". Examples include:

* The chap who travelled from London to Stenhousmuir but didn't count the game because it was a goalless draw,

* The Blackpool gentleman, known as The Tram, who insists upon touching the crossbars before every match, discovered at Greenwich Borough that he couldn't reach and had the kick off delayed whilst the bar was re-positioned.

* The itinerant who doesn't count a match unless he's touched the ball when it's gone out of play and who leaps around like a demented dervish until he has.

It's good to see, says John Briggs, that in making their case, the FA have chosen such wonderfully normal examples.

Friday's column on the Barmy Army said that one of the leading NCOs was nicknamed Milo - "apparently after a beer marketed down there with the slogan 'Drunk all over Australia'."

Whilst Milo may well be drunk all over Australia, it is in fact a malt drink, apparently something like Horlicks.

The mistake is pointed out in an e-mail from retired railway polliss Mike Kent. "I wanted to save you the embarrassment," he says, "of making a long trip down under and asking for a pint of it."

Former Durham and Somerset quick bowler Ken Biddulph's funeral on Friday was marked by a wonderful eulogy from friend and cricket writer Stephen Chalke. Long serving Durham wicket keeper Bob Cole has kindly sent a copy.

Chalke recalled Biddy's early days at Alf Gover's cricket school in Wandsworth, when he liked to stop behind to bowl at the young batsmen who followed them in.

On one occasion he asked to bowl in the other net, explaining to Gover that the batsman wasn't much good and that the other chap might present a greater challenge.

Gover agreed. "By the way, old boy," he said afterwards, "that batsman you didn't think much of - his name's Peter May."

As a youngster at Somerset, he was bowling to senior players before a match with Yorkshire and came through the gate at the same time as the great Harold Gimblett.

The usual boys hanging round the gate got Gimblett's autograph and then turned to the young Biddulph, who brushed them aside and earned himself a roasting.

"But they don't know who I am, Mr Gimblett, they've never seen me play," protested Ken.

"And when they have," said Gimblett, "I don't suppose they'll ever want your autograph."

....and finally, the first footballer born after the 1966 World Cup final to win full England honours (Backtrack, January 17) was Tony Adams.

Paul Mulley in Shildon today seeks the identity of the two Football League clubs nicknamed The Hatters - and for good measure, the club that was nicknamed The Glaziers.

Transparent as ever, the column returns on Friday.

Published: 21/01/2003