Thursday 9 May 2019

The Bloke Who Stares and other small club archetypes

Game 26, 2018-19

It's half-time and the home team in this boys U19 game is 3-0 down. My changing room's across the corridor from theirs, but I can hear the coach through two brick walls. He's demanding to know what the fuck they are playing at, because it's certainly not football. He wants some extra effort, he wants them to show that they really want to be out there, otherwise what's the point of being here at all. COME ON NOW!

You could call this place the archetypal city club. I've been here plenty of times before, and to plenty of clubs just like it. It's tucked in to the allotments, a stone's throw from the Autobahn. You can see the towers and lights of the city centre to the east, and on a clear day you can see the hills of the wealthy satellite towns to the north. Both feel beyond reach of a club which, unless you were looking for it, you'd never know was here.

There are certain other staples. In the club house there's an elderly woman in charge of everything. She's civil but she's not over-friendly - after all, how many referees pass through here every week...
Want to read more? Click here to order Reffing Hell: Stuck In The Middle Of A Game Gone Wrong by Ian Plenderleith (Halcyon Publishing), published on August 8, 2022.  

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