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For this northerner without many airmiles, the weird and wonderful pull of our glorious capital city is about the extent of my travelling. (Editor’s note:You didn’t half travel the last time you were in London…)
It’s true about breaks and holidays making you yearn for home , and whilst it’s obvious that London’s pubs are finally waking up to “real ale” meaning more than London Pride, until my beer drinking brethren have packets of Scampi Fries within coin-throwing distance, I will hold onto my Lancashire passport for dear life. Wasabi flavoured pistachios with my pint of Double Hop? No, good landlord, just no.
This is an FA Cup weekend and they switch on certain reactions within the male psyche which echo the reaction a giant turtle has to the full moon. With my synapses particularly primed it seemed logical to catch a game within the shadow of Wembley Stadium and its Meccano arch. This would be my first experience of non-league football south of the Thelwall Viaduct (I did tell you I am untravelled), which opens up oft-repeated discussions about the perceived north/south divide at this level of the game. The arguments are always finely tuned: southern non-league clubs have a reputation for a lack of all round fitness, northern sides of complacency and reliance on over-aged players. Like most discussions there will never be a resolution, and being football, that’s exactly how it should be. Rivalries are created to appeal to our base sensibilities even if the two opposing sides have long since gone their separate ways; there are men living in old peoples’ homes in Oldham who would rather drop dead on the eve of their hundredth birthdays than even hear the words “Bolton Wanderers”.
Hendon FC currently groundshare at Vale Farm, home to the smaller Wembley FC, following a protracted and almost fatal period in the early 2000s which saw the 100-year old club close to extinction.
To their credit is the amazing 49-year run within the top division of the Isthmian League – a feeling some Premier League teams will know all about if they keep up current trends. One of the first English sides to play under floodlights – write that down, pub quiz fans – the Greens now run a tight little ship with a suitably bright future.
Two stops from the hotel I was camped in for the long weekend, the Vale Farm ground is set back from the rough and ready mean streets of North Wembley. There is an immediate charm about the place – nothing quite fits, the paint is peeling and the gardens of adjacent buildings peer out at pitch level, and yet the feel of a community club with good humour amongst the fans was instantly obvious. For the technically minded amongst you, Wembley FC play in the Combined Counties League, down at the ninth step of the league pyramid, making their ground all the more of a great draw for groundhoppers and general fans alike. If nothing else is taken from the day, I can confirm the half-time chips were as good as any up North.
Visiting this little slice of north-west London was Hastings United, bringing with them a clump of enthusiastic (if not a little tipsy) supporters whose home-made flags identified them as “1066 boys on tour”. Whilst Hendon have been tapping away at the play-offs this season, their Sussex opponents have looked more likely to be spending their weeks fending off relegation. The Hastings story has been more ‘tragedy’ than ‘tapestry’ – I’m so sorry – with few results going their way. On the evidence of this weekend the reason is as much bad luck as lack of natural goal scorers, with general work rate pretty impressive. That’s almost another general perception of the southern game disproven so it’s best to move on.
This game of almost-up versus possibly-down started as bright as the wintery sun and would stay that way for most of its duration. Both sides showed real guile from the start, Hendon especially across the middle of the park.
Hendon showed great passing skill in the first opening minutes, dictating the pace of play to the very minute. Across the middle of the park, Hastings could do nothing but watch, Hendon happily allowing the ball to dart through open space in neat little triangles and rectangles. It was a Match of the Day analysis in real-time, preceding a thorough opening up of the visitors for two fantastic goals.
After passing between themselves to prove one skill, Hastings were given the slip with two well worked, rapid fire goals within the space of three minutes. Both came from runs along the right channels – Greg Ngoyi drove a low shot into the box which was met by the sliding Elliot Charles, whose hand was almost certainly the last part of his body to help the ball into the net. Michael Lewis repeated the move shortly after – skipping over two defenders and letting a thunderbolt shot thwack the inner side of the goal post.
The answer from Hastings was essentially gifted to them – something of a non-league classic shin-botherer of a tackle saw the U’s Lee Carey plant a beautiful up-and-under freekick straight into the goal for 2-1.
For the remainder of the first half, and for most of the second, the emphasis was on Hastings to draw level. They didn’t, largely because they couldn’t. Hendon appeared to have forgotten the way in which they passed and moved for the first forty-five minutes as their game now consisted of much long ball and little connection. Hastings struggled to make much count for all their efforts, the Hendon midfield and back-line retained what they could and hacked to the floor anything they couldn’t.
In what is becoming a regular mini-feature this season, the referee made a peculiar nonsense of himself throughout the game. It was satisfying to see such things are not the preserve of the northern divisions. I enjoyed the exchange between a Hastings fan – “Play football! PLAY FOOTBALL! TIGHTER!” and a player “Shut the [expletive deleted] up you plank, the dugout’s the other side.”
From almost the northern end of the Bakerloo Line, the expanse of Wembley seems almost sealed away from everything the hugely prominent national stadium represents. This game was played alongside every high profile, big money FA Cup game and whilst I’ve tackled the nostalgia around the game before – and found it wanting – it’s nonetheless my opinion that the 200 people watching with me at Vale Farm were no more or less entertained than those whose relationship with the game begins and ends with the bright lights of the national game.
