Uncle Leo
This cook is an anti-semite
Apologies for the delay with this one. Makes less depressing reading than reports of our humping in Bristol though....
It’s fair to say that the North Lincolnshire and East Yorkshire region is not a happy hunting ground for us Shrimpers.
We very rarely seem to pick up points at the lovely locations of Doncaster and Grimsby, while at the town situated in between the two, Scunthorpe, we hadn’t won since 1983 (a 6-1 win believe it or not!).
Yet it was with a sense of optimism I boarded the train at Kings Cross on Tuesday afternoon for my first-ever trip to Glandford Park, as I was convinced we could get something out of the clash against the league leaders.
After changing in delightful Donnie I arrived at Scunny on one of those bus-like one carriage trains which serve the provinces (sorry if I sound like a patronising southerner).
Alighting at Scunthorpe, I ventured out of the station. It was pretty quiet. Tumble weed was blowing down the street.
Well of course it wasn’t but the town seemed dead as a dodo.
I wandered through streets of small terraced houses to my B and B, checked in and watched Neighbours, before heading down to the ground.
Glandford Park is a pretty tidy, compact ground, situated on a hideous out of town retail park next to Frankie and Bennie’s and ToysRus.
I walked round to the away turnstiles and was amazed to be charged just £11 to get in. Result!
I’m not sure if the kid on the turnstile thought I was a junior, but this 32-year-old youthful-looking correspondent was certainly not about to complain.
On entering I was delighted to discover I was the first away fan in the ground, and marked this fantastic achievement by asking a steward to take a photo of me in a bank of empty seating (Yes I know I’m sad!).
Gradually the ground filled up including the 212 hardy souls from Southend who had made the long trek north.
As the players were warming up it became clear we were sporting a fetching new yellow kit, which drew “Yeeeellows” chants from the faithful during the game, taking me back to my first games at Roots Hall in the 80s, when the chant was commonplace.
The first half was pretty evenly matched, Southend had some good spells in possession but didn’t fashion many clear cut chances, while Scunthorpe had a few shots on target.
The highlight of the half was right on half time when ex-Shrimper Gary Hooper, tipped by many to score a hattrick, missed an absolute sitter after a superb double save by Adam Federeci.
His headed miss prompted chants of “Hooper is a Shrimper” and much relief from the Southend fans.
Other than that the only other talking point in the first half was the behaviour of a group of more vocal Southend fans who decided to engage in a row with the stewards, as they refused to sit down.
This almost culminated with two Blues’ fans coming to blows with each other in an episode which would have been laughable if it wasn’t so pathetic.
It really does beg the question why travel all that way to miss most of the game arguing with stewards and one another?
As one fan said to one of the offending group, “Just sit down and watch the f***ing game”, sentiments echoed by the majority of Shrimpers’ fans.
Anyway, back to the game and the second half got off to the best possible start for Southend when Adam Barrett headed in a pinpoint corner from Hal Robson Kanu, 1-0 and game on.
The goal merely sparked the Iron into life and they attacked us in waves, playing the ball around quickly and impressively and looking every bit the top-of-the table team.
But the Southend defence was holding firm, Francis and Sankofa were playing well at full back, and the Scunthorpe strikers were having an evening to forget, either missing the target or being foiled by the impressive Federeci.
Just as we were starting to think it was going to be a classic smash-and-grab raid with ten minutes to go, a free kick into the area led to the linesman awarding a penalty for an Adam Barrett foul, which absolutely noone else in the ground or on the pitch saw or appealed for.
It was hard to take as Paul Hayes dispatched the penalty to make it 1-1.
It was all hands to the pump as the defence repelled more Scunny attacks, and right at the death Federeci denied Hooper at point blank range.
At the other end substitute James Walker beat two or three men on a great run and smashed in a shot which the keeper just tipped round the post to keep out.
So 1-1 it was, a result we’d have all taken before the game, but slightly galling given the dubious nature of their equaliser.
As the crowds dispersed I had half an hour to kill before my taxi arrived, so I went and waited by the team coach to try and catch some of the players.
I was joined by an irritating group of Scunny-supporting schoolboys who had copious photos of our players they wanted signing, so I became the official player-identifier for them.
Adam Barrett and Peter Clarke were both fuming over the penalty decision, Barrett was convinced the ref wanted to even things out after turning down a couple of penalty appeals for the Iron.
Lee Sawyer really does looks about 12 up close, while j’ai parléd un peu de francais avec Christophe and Laurent, they are cousins, which I hadn’t realised, hailing from the the French island of Guadeloupe.
Christophe said he would like to sign for the rest of the season.
With all the players and management on the bus, I said my goodbyes and headed back to the B and B, looking forward to the delights of Lincoln Moorlands Railway the following night as I continued my tour of prestigious Lincolnshire footballing venues.
But that my friends is another story…
It’s fair to say that the North Lincolnshire and East Yorkshire region is not a happy hunting ground for us Shrimpers.
We very rarely seem to pick up points at the lovely locations of Doncaster and Grimsby, while at the town situated in between the two, Scunthorpe, we hadn’t won since 1983 (a 6-1 win believe it or not!).
Yet it was with a sense of optimism I boarded the train at Kings Cross on Tuesday afternoon for my first-ever trip to Glandford Park, as I was convinced we could get something out of the clash against the league leaders.
After changing in delightful Donnie I arrived at Scunny on one of those bus-like one carriage trains which serve the provinces (sorry if I sound like a patronising southerner).
Alighting at Scunthorpe, I ventured out of the station. It was pretty quiet. Tumble weed was blowing down the street.
Well of course it wasn’t but the town seemed dead as a dodo.
I wandered through streets of small terraced houses to my B and B, checked in and watched Neighbours, before heading down to the ground.
Glandford Park is a pretty tidy, compact ground, situated on a hideous out of town retail park next to Frankie and Bennie’s and ToysRus.
I walked round to the away turnstiles and was amazed to be charged just £11 to get in. Result!
I’m not sure if the kid on the turnstile thought I was a junior, but this 32-year-old youthful-looking correspondent was certainly not about to complain.
On entering I was delighted to discover I was the first away fan in the ground, and marked this fantastic achievement by asking a steward to take a photo of me in a bank of empty seating (Yes I know I’m sad!).
Gradually the ground filled up including the 212 hardy souls from Southend who had made the long trek north.
As the players were warming up it became clear we were sporting a fetching new yellow kit, which drew “Yeeeellows” chants from the faithful during the game, taking me back to my first games at Roots Hall in the 80s, when the chant was commonplace.
The first half was pretty evenly matched, Southend had some good spells in possession but didn’t fashion many clear cut chances, while Scunthorpe had a few shots on target.
The highlight of the half was right on half time when ex-Shrimper Gary Hooper, tipped by many to score a hattrick, missed an absolute sitter after a superb double save by Adam Federeci.
His headed miss prompted chants of “Hooper is a Shrimper” and much relief from the Southend fans.
Other than that the only other talking point in the first half was the behaviour of a group of more vocal Southend fans who decided to engage in a row with the stewards, as they refused to sit down.
This almost culminated with two Blues’ fans coming to blows with each other in an episode which would have been laughable if it wasn’t so pathetic.
It really does beg the question why travel all that way to miss most of the game arguing with stewards and one another?
As one fan said to one of the offending group, “Just sit down and watch the f***ing game”, sentiments echoed by the majority of Shrimpers’ fans.
Anyway, back to the game and the second half got off to the best possible start for Southend when Adam Barrett headed in a pinpoint corner from Hal Robson Kanu, 1-0 and game on.
The goal merely sparked the Iron into life and they attacked us in waves, playing the ball around quickly and impressively and looking every bit the top-of-the table team.
But the Southend defence was holding firm, Francis and Sankofa were playing well at full back, and the Scunthorpe strikers were having an evening to forget, either missing the target or being foiled by the impressive Federeci.
Just as we were starting to think it was going to be a classic smash-and-grab raid with ten minutes to go, a free kick into the area led to the linesman awarding a penalty for an Adam Barrett foul, which absolutely noone else in the ground or on the pitch saw or appealed for.
It was hard to take as Paul Hayes dispatched the penalty to make it 1-1.
It was all hands to the pump as the defence repelled more Scunny attacks, and right at the death Federeci denied Hooper at point blank range.
At the other end substitute James Walker beat two or three men on a great run and smashed in a shot which the keeper just tipped round the post to keep out.
So 1-1 it was, a result we’d have all taken before the game, but slightly galling given the dubious nature of their equaliser.
As the crowds dispersed I had half an hour to kill before my taxi arrived, so I went and waited by the team coach to try and catch some of the players.
I was joined by an irritating group of Scunny-supporting schoolboys who had copious photos of our players they wanted signing, so I became the official player-identifier for them.
Adam Barrett and Peter Clarke were both fuming over the penalty decision, Barrett was convinced the ref wanted to even things out after turning down a couple of penalty appeals for the Iron.
Lee Sawyer really does looks about 12 up close, while j’ai parléd un peu de francais avec Christophe and Laurent, they are cousins, which I hadn’t realised, hailing from the the French island of Guadeloupe.
Christophe said he would like to sign for the rest of the season.
With all the players and management on the bus, I said my goodbyes and headed back to the B and B, looking forward to the delights of Lincoln Moorlands Railway the following night as I continued my tour of prestigious Lincolnshire footballing venues.
But that my friends is another story…
