This season saw me bringing up the milestone of my 1000th football game attended, albeit it has been post-Covid that games in the Welsh system have started to dominate my time. To even know this figure indicates a certain type of personality, that of a regimented and hyper organised person right on top of things (and a total nerd). This is true to a point, but it’s amazing how carelessness and complacency can catch you out. Every day’s a school day, so here are the lessons learned in Welsh football in 2023/24, but probably forgotten all too soon.
BEWARE FUSSY STEWARDS
My children came to games a lot with me this season, and this means hyper preparation. I arrive at games with them with a backpack that makes me look like I’m scaling Everest rather than attending a sparsely attended football match in Wales. Snacks, phones, drinks in appropriate cups, ear defenders, whatever item they have decided they can’t live without today, and all the other things you need as an autism parent on the go. Naturally I slip an emergency bottle of Lowes lemonade in there because why wouldn’t you, one of the appeals of life down the leagues is being able to walk in unchallenged with your bag, when you get the Vaselined glove treatment for this in pro football. Therefore I was somewhat caught out at Connah’s Quay’s European tie at Park Hall when a couple of hired goons were there to check bags. They zoned straight in on my lemonade, insisted the bottle top had to go (blah blah blah missile policies) and I had to manage with it sloshing around. This makes me grind my teeth disproportionately despite the fact that it has been part of pro football’s killjoy policies for years. I have finally wised up and kept a loose bottle top in my jacket pocket for such eventualities. I also hesitate to say this seeing as the Racecourse stadium manager is such a nark but…on the way in there they check your bags but not your pockets, so if you want to avoid mega queues and high prices and sneak a drink in, slip it in there – at least until they start banning you for that.
DON’T RUN YOUR MOUTH
All Cymru North regulars will be fans or haters of the legendary Asa Hamilton. He’s a super player at that level, now trying his luck as player-manager of Buckley, but his behaviour is somewhat volatile, blowing a gasket at all and sundry, with a range and frequency of swearing that beggars belief. This is a topic of discussion at other clubs, I sat in front of a group of fans at Holywell who spent several minutes digging him out. I saw Buckley a few times this season but he saved his most volatile display for a home game against Airbus. He did his nut at a perceived slight and a group of people next to me were giggling. Me and one of the group looked at each other and I said “he can’t be enjoying doing this can he?” to which he replied “no…he’s my son”. Mercifully for me daddy Hamilton seems like an easy going guy and was happy to discuss his boy’s tendency to go off on one, while I thanked my lucky stars that I chose my words carefully. Asa came over to his dad after being subbed off and said “this ref’s a twat…he sent me off twice last season”. So maybe I’m not the only one with lessons to learn. I’m also mindful of what happened at Lex last season when someone in the stand criticised the referee harshly and was given a gobful by said referee’s mum.
BE CAREFUL WHERE YOU PARK
Denbigh 6 Buckley 5 was my game of the season. I hadn’t been there for a few years and ended up pouring through the turns via Nant y Garth pass on a filthy Friday night that positively screamed “a 45 year old man was pronounced dead at the scene”. But we made it with a few minutes to spare, and parked up in one of those bloody awful diagonal parking spaces opposite the ground, so bloody awful that it was a nuisance to back in due to the lack of space opposite. So I drove in forwards and forgot about it, especially as the game was such a classic. The 29 point turn that was required for me to get out again, including mounting the pavement repeatedly while trying not to hit the wall or any pedestrians, made me wonder if an 11 goal thriller was worth it, as did another driver going through Coedpoeth at 12mph. My trips to Flint were smoother, with parking planned with military precision, public transport in Wales being something you only take when you’re absolutely desperate.
LIES MAKE BABY JESUS CRY
The whole family got strong armed into going to Prestatyn v Buckley by way of having a seaside day out first. Somehow despite the best of plans it required some aggressive dad walking to get into the ground for kickoff, but we all made it. Managing a faster than usual walk, getting everyone to keep up with the speed, managing an aforementioned mega rucksack and a dog must have impaired my judgement. I had what I thought was the right money on me for all of us and then noticed that my now 12 year old daughter was subject to an entry fee of, gasp, £1. I don’t know what I was thinking but I decided to vibe it rather than muck about with bags, dog leads, wallets again and just whispered “she’s eleven, ok?”. The turnstile operator asked how old my daughter was and I answered with a breezy “eleven!” before my son, not noted for his listening skills said “NO SHE’S TWELVE” at the precise point that there seemed to be no other sound in the vicinity. Game recognises game, the turnstile operator winked and let us all in without paying the additional, oh god, ONE pound, and frankly it wasn’t worth the embarrassment. I bought more cans of Pepsi than I really wanted to make up for my sin as it’s important to pay alms, and decided not to do this again. Airbus took advantage of this by charging £4 as soon as you hit twelve but that’s on them and not me.
DRESS FOR THE WEATHER YOU’VE GOT
This really should be obvious, but the 2024 sight of women in Dryrobes with boyfriends in shorts shows that some people just aren’t listening. Plus who among us can’t say we have never picked our jackets based on the calendar rather than what is happening outside. Preparation preparation preparation. Yes you must check all three of your weather apps. Yes your coats must all have gloves in one pocket and a hat in another. You must not shy away from the bucket hat when it’s hot or you will BURN. Your umbrella must stand up to wind as well as rain (having my pathetic effort turned inside out by the wind at Chirk was a chastening experience). But if you like local football you must really think about shoes. Your Adidas Gazelles are all well and good on the terraces, but when you walk across the grassy area at Brymbo in October you will slide for several metres, and club volunteers might laugh at you (me). Ludicrously Brymbo was the venue where two boys, old enough to know better, decided to throw themselves around while shirtless and shoeless into every muddy patch they could find. This was much to my daughter’s hilarity until she discovered they had made the toilet unusable while cleaning themselves up in there. From the Premier League to Cymru Premier you can dress at Wrexham Trainer Revival, but lower than that you need Mountain Warehouse.
DON’T GO TO GAMES HUNGRY
My overwhelming memory of the years I watched Wrexham home and away was being hungry all the time. True sustenance on the road is harder, or more expensive, work than it ought to be. Footy scran has taken on a life of its own due to this, with pro clubs desperate to sell you a Katsu chicken curry and naan for £12. Maybe this is understandable for people who have travelled a long way but if you have stayed local there is no need to be taken in by this. The 2.30 or 3pm kickoff has many benefits but an underrated one means you have lunch before you leave home and tea when you get back. Anything else should be snacks only, something forgotten by clubs trying to sell you a gourmet burger for a tenner. Plus where I travel these days the experience is inconsistent. I went to Airbus aware of their slooooow food kiosk from the previous season, but decided I would fill a gap there during a game I thought would be quiet. I could have burst into tears when I saw that the kiosk had gone – how could I leave myself hungry again after those years of harsh lessons on the road? The club who gets what you need is Llangollen Town. Their £2 sausage, chips and curry sauce is the ultimate snack, enough to plug the gap, or merely eat it when you aren’t hungry, but it won’t ruin your dinner later. If you really must stuff your fat face then order two. But as you drop the leagues you’re in the lap of the gods. Some places only sell hot drinks and no cold. Some only have crisps and chocolate when you want something more substantial. Some do have substantial offerings but they are expensive. You have to take the pressure off the day by making food a bonus rather than necessary.
LIFE’S BETTER WITH DOGS
Amongst the victims of more professional setups in Welsh football are our four legged friends. Increasingly they are getting banned from grounds and this is sad – check the Non League Dogs social media and tell me they shouldn’t be there. But when I peppered the nearby Cymru North clubs to ask if dogs were welcome the only reply I got was a positive one from Prestatyn Town. We didn’t take our dog to Newtown but the match experience there was heightened by there being quite a few good boys around with their cute faces and friendly attitudes, even in the social club. But there is a responsibility required – I got home from Newtown and noticed that Aberystwyth Town announced that too many owners hadn’t picked up their dog’s mess, and now they were banned. Sometimes we don’t deserve nice things, but we must praise those clubs who still allow them.
HAVE A PLAN B
This season has seen clubs sail pretty close to the wind with postponements. Games have been called off quite late at times and you need to be aware of who else is on and, more importantly, whose grounds are bulletproof. A possible trip to Llansantffraid bit the dust and good old reliable Airbus and their 4G pitch stepped into the breach. If you’re still banging on about “plastic” in this day and age, hankering back to bobbly, muddy surfaces and knowing how easily games get postponed, you are not just a dinosaur but a maniac. Sometimes it’s best just to play safe; I had intended to cross the border to Whitchurch despite rain on and off. They said game on at 10am, I checked social media about fifty times and when 2pm came I headed there. This despite noticing Ruthin announcing their team just after half 1, the possibility that I could go there instead, and a sense of foreboding I just couldn’t shift. I arrived in Whitchurch, checked my phone…the game was called off at 2:06 with no previous communication of changing weather, a pitch inspection or anything else – unforgivable. I had to settle for the second half at Chirk while I seethed, knowing I should have listened to my heart instead of being rigid with the plan.
ANY OTHER BUSINESS
Give yourself time on the roads – there’s always a chance of being stuck behind a tractor. Make sure you have some cash, who knows just who and where will accept your card. Support match day programmes because they are dying out. Support social clubs too, I heartily recommend Penycae and Brickfield for setting these up at Tier 3 grounds when others at that level are basically just parks with a 100 seat stand plonked next to them. Two pints is the optimum pre-match beer amount, you’ll feel more unsatisfied with one than none and three means a session is underway (plus beer bladder). Don’t go to games at The Rock unless you’re a scab. If your child gets into Sum 41 during the season, let them have their music either there or back but not both, or you’ll go mad. If you find yourself at a Wales game you need to have practised your singing – the “i’r bur hoff bau” bit of Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau is really hard to reach. Most of all, amongst Welsh football’s many crises don’t let them stop you from going to the game – you let pro clubs get away with murder so apply the same grace to clubs who just want a few of your pounds and we’ll have a stronger domestic setup.
Taith Pêl-Droed 