City Till I Die (Possibly From Exposure)!

Bath City defeated Woking 3-1 at Woking's Kingfield Stadium yesterday. It was one of the best 'away days' I've had yet as a City supporter, although not for the usual reasons. Many people, on and off the pitch, went beyond the call of duty to make it a great day. Most importantly, however, the Bath City players put on an amazing display of skill and determination in very testing conditions to win a vital three points. It was such a good day it was easy to forget how cold it was. Well, almost.

After City's 5-0 hammering of Woking just three weeks ago, nothing was going to keep me away from this return fixture. Actually, something could have kept me away from this fixture, but after agreeing to take along my five-year-old son, she decided to let me go. This would leave her with only one child to look after (and as anyone with two children or more will tell you, only having one seems holiday). Getting "Little Nedved Junior" to want to come along was easy enough. I just told him we were going on a train ride. And would have lunch at McDonald's. Job done.

Despite snow and cold temperatures rendering much of Britain's transit useless yesterday, we had an incident free journey to Woking. The only worry on the way had been whether the match would be called off. Up until the previous afternoon I had assumed it would not go ahead. Most of the south-east was covered with snow and the temperature the previous night had been minus four degrees Celsius. The brave folks at Woking FC, however, must have worked their socks off to keep their pitch playable. It passed an inspection on Friday afternoon and, while as we were pulling out of Basingstoke station, I received a call from a fellow supporter to confirm the match was definitely on. It turned out that seven of yesterday's ten league matches would be postponed because of poor conditions. A huge amont of credit should go to the ground crew at Woking FC for making it possible for the match to go ahead.

After the unavoidable visit to McDonald's we set off for Kingfield Stadium. I had only a badly printed set of instructions I'd found on the Internet. Like most English cities, Woking has dispensed with all street signs, which made the instructions worthless. Luckily the city fathers of Woking had decided to set up some signs pointing the way to 'Woking FC,' so instead of having to swallow my male pride and ask for directions, I instead guided Little Nedved Junior along a pleasant walk through the back streets of Woking. He enjoyed it because we passed a post office and he found a lot of elastic bands. All was going well until we made a sharp turn at one of the signposts. For a moment I thought something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

Unbeknownst to me, the Woking Borough Council logo is pretty much the same as the Woking FC badge. I assuemed the turning led into Woking FC's Kingfield Stadium. In fact we were actually walking into council-administered Woking Park. The stadium was on the other side of the park. Expecting to see a bustle of pre-match activity we instead saw a frozen, snow-covered football pitch with what appeared to be a Woking FC sign in front of it.

'There's nobody here,' Little Nedved Junior said, with his typical deadpan delivery. Mistaking the logo on the sign for the Woking FC badge, I really did think someone had made a terrible mistake for about two seconds. After a moment, though, I read the sign properly and figured it out. In my best grownup voice I said, 'Oh, no, this isn't the football ground. It must be farther along.'

Walking through a snow-covered park is a very pleasant way to reach a football ground. Certainly, for Little Nedved Junior it was a highpoint for his day that rivaled the train ride. It only took a few minutes before he started throwing snowballs at the back of my head.

Relaxed and happy, we arrived at Kingfield Stadium. After paying our admission (£12 for me, but as is often the case, Little Nedved Junior was waved through for no charge) and getting a program (£2.50), I decided to go for a wander and get my barrings.

Except I couldn't. Kingfield Stadium was very nice, but I soon leaned it is a very quirky football ground. Instead of having the run of all the terraces as is normal in non-league football, we were restricted to one end of the ground. One side of the ground has a series of small, seat-only areas (including the delightfully named 'Moaners' Corner'), but access to these is restricted by a series of gates. The other side of the pitch is a very narrow terrace, which for this match, was blocked off entirely. This meant the standing fans, both home and away, had access only to a medium-sized terrace behind the goal. All of this was overshadowed, though, by an enormous, Premiership-quality stand on the opposite end of the pitch. It is, without doubt, the most impressive seating structure I've seen in non-league football. The fact that it so easily outclassed the rest of the facilities, and that it had been placed at a vantage point spectators normally try to avoid, gave the whole ground a surreal quality. It was kind of like happening upon a garage full of Morris Marinas and discovering a Ferrari hidden on the back row.

The corner of the ground we were allowed to access was very jolly, though, and surprisingly full of Bath City supporters. Little Nedved Junior and I found a bit of terrace in the front where he could see just in time for kickoff. Up and to our right were two flags that the City fans had signed and covered with messages of thanks and good luck. These were for recently-departed City player Florin Pelecaci (see here). He had said he would come to the match and stand with the City fans to show his thanks for their recent support. I wondered if he would actually come. Perhaps hoping to conjure his appearance the fans sang, 'Doo, doo, doo, Florin Pelecaci!.' I strained my neck in all directions to see him whenever the ball went out of play.

To my surprise, City had come out of the dressing room in last year's away kit. These sport a very unfortunate shade of blue, sort of like you might see on one of those Morris Marinas mentioned previously. Unlike our current home and away kits, it had the advantage of being nothing like the Woking home kit. To the credit of non-league football generally, it is nothing like anyone's kit. Still, it would do in a pinch. 'Blue' also made an appearance as the colour of the line markings on the pitch. Despite the best efforts of the ground crew there was still a fair amount of snow on the pitch.

Woking began the match like they were out for revenge. You could hardly blame them - they are a decent team and they had been humiliated by City three weeks previously. Woking's Guiseppe Sole put a header over the bar within a couple minutes. City keeper Ryan Robinson was required to make a save just afterwards. With City's defence simultaneously struggling to keep their footing and keep Woking at bay, it seemed like just a matter of time before a goal was conceded.

While this was happening, much to my surprise, Florin Pelecaci did appear on the terrace standing amongst the Bath City fans. When Florin had announced his departure a few days previously it had provoked a huge, somewhat emotional, response from the City supporters. A Facebook campaign had sprung up and fliers had been printed to try and convince him to stay. Florin had been gratified by this show of support he had decided to come and make his goodbyes in person. His appearance led to several verses of 'Doo, doo, doo, Florin Pelecaci.' Florin smiled, but looked embarrassed. After spotting me snap a picture of him he quickly made his way over and shook my hand. 'Hello, Ned,' he said.

I started writing this bog on a whim one evening, and the fact that some people bother to read it has been a pleasant surprise. The idea that it would lead to a player I greatly admire approaching me and greeting me by name is still a bit of a shock. Florin knew my name because he had very kindly allowed me to interview him in October (see here), and it occurred to me that because his stay had been so brief he probably knew very few supporters by name. I am a completely amateur journalist, but I had enough composure to grasp the opportunity to talk to Florin more about his decision to leave Bath City. I switched on my Dictaphone and started chatting away.

Because it is was a very important, and fairly lengthy conversation, I am going to write about my talk with Florin in another post. I will describe just how odd the rest of the first half was. Florin was interrupted regularly by supporters asking him to autograph copies of their program (including me, of course) and other well-wishers who wanted to shake his hand. I was really keen to speak with him as much as possible, but I had Little Nedved Junior on my other side needing my attention from time to time, and a really important match was being played a few feet away. There was also a rather large post between me and the pitch. With leaning to my right to speak to Florin, stooping down to my left to tend to my son, and constant moving back and forth to see past the pillar, I spent most of the first half swaying to and fro like a drunken camel. Fortunately City somehow managed to keep Woking at bay during their initial onslaught. As the half progressed the balance of play began to even out.

Twenty minutes into the half Lewis Hogg slotted the ball to Darren Edwards on the left. He clattered into Woking's Mark Ricketts and the ball rolled out of bounds. The ref blew his whistle and pointed in the direction of the goal, but from that distance it was impossible to see what he meant. 'Is it a penalty?' I asked Florin. 'No, it was out.' he said. He appeared to be correct, because there was next to no reaction from any of the players. To our surprise, though, Kaid Mohamed, sporting a off center mohican that resembled a small planetary ring, lined up to take the kick. He executed it perfectly to the top right corner. The Woking keeper, Ross Worner, did not have a chance.

Suddenly, very much against the run of play, City were in the lead. The City supporters went crazy. For the first time we sang what would end up being the refrain of the afternoon: 'Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way, oh what fun it is to watch City win away, hey!'

The singing was loud and constant throughout the match. It was the best performance by City supporters since the Grimsby FA Cup match. Loud vocal demonstrations are becomming increasingly common at City matches, home and away, and a semi-organised hard core of 'ultras' is forming among the supporters. Hopefully this is a trend that will grow and grow. All the standards were sung, including 'We Love Jim Rollo,' and 'I wish I was a Pornstar like Matt Coupe.' A new addition for the match was 'Dodgy Haircut' to the tune of 'Dodgy Keeper.' This was sung whenever Kaid Mohamed ran past our terrace, much to his amusement.

Woking returned to the ascendancy following the goal, but only for a few minutes. The City players began to play more and more confidently. To my great shock, City stopped playing like a team trying to battle against an icy pitch. Instead they began to revert to their normal style of midfield dominance and neat passing. It was hard with the conditions, and mistakes were made, but they began to create real chances.

Just before the half, one chance came good. Sekani Simpson launched a long cross from the far side of Moaners' Corner. Darren Edwards was able to leap high enough to direct the ball towards the goal, but it clipped the bottom of the bar instead of going in. Woking's keeper fell to the ground after mistiming his jump and the ball bounced up onto Edward's middle. Reflexively, Edwards nudged the ball over the prone keeper and into the goal with a pelvic thrust. He then took a tumble himself. From the other side of the ground it was impossible to see what had happened. The jubilation of the City players and the defeated body posture of the Woking players made it clear enough, though. City went into the intermission with a two goal lead.

After purchasing a cup of tea for myself and a Mars bar for Little Nedved Junior I returned to the terrace to chat with my fellow City fans. We all agreed that the Woking fans must feel very hard done by. Both teams had played well at times, and perhaps Woking's dominance had been longer. A two goal lead for City was indeed lucky. Woking also seemed to be suffering a rash of freak goal concessions. In the previous encounter City debutant Adrejs Stocers had scored with his backside after blocking a kick from the keeper. In this match Darren Edwards had scored with his crotch.

I had half expected Florin Pelecaci to slip out quietly at half time. He had made his appearance, and I wondered how comfortable he actually was signing autographs and posing for pictures with so many people. The second half kicked off with him still among us, though. He stayed for the entire match.

The first twenty minutes of the second half were pretty even. They were not a boring sort of even, though. Despite the patches of snow and the dropping temperature both teams played the sort of exciting end-to-end football you hope for on a sunny April afternoon. There were dramatic saves on both sides. Jim Rollo timed a tackle perfectly to stop Nathaniel Pinney from what I had thought was a definite goal. After conceding seven straight goals to City, Woking finally got some luck that wasn't bad luck. Ricketts took a long free kick from just outside the centre circle. Robinson lept and got his fingers on the ball, but his feet shot out from underneath him. Chris Holland got to the ball before it trickled into the net, but he approached at an odd angle and ended up kicking the ball into the net himself. It was an own goal, but Woking now had a chance again with over twenty minutes left to play.

Perhaps anticipating a verse of 'You're Not Singing Anymore' from the Woking fans, the City supporters began singing again straight away. Likewise, the City players appeared to shrug off the setback. They resumed pressing Woking like nothing had happened.

This payed off a few minutes later. Kaid Mohamed broke free and appeared to have a good chance of scoring. Perhaps unintentionally, Woking's Aswad Thomas pulled him to ground by his shirt sleeve. This set up a City free kick from the edge of the box. Mohamed lined up to take the kick but ran over the ball instead. Lewis Hogg ran forward to take the strike. Woking's wall had started to break up as soon as Mohamed had run past. Hogg found a hole and the ball went into the right side of the net chest high. Worner probably never saw the ball. I grabbed Little Nedved Junior and jumped up and down with him in my arms to celebrate. As he had been concentrating on a packet of fruit pastels, he was very non-plussed by this.

The third goal effectively killed the game off. Woking managed a few more attacks, but their energy faded with every passing minute. City came close to scoring towards the end during another cameo substitution by Andrejs Stolcers. A sharply hit shot was easily caught by Worner. Perhaps he should have tried his backside again.

The third goal also kicked off a party scene among the Bath City supporters. 'Six Points, Eight Goals' was taken up to the tune of the Pompey chimes. There were also many more renditions of our version of 'Jingle Bells.'

As the whistle sounded I felt a real sense of joy. There was not a City supporter who would not have taken a point gladly going into the match. At best, we had hoped somehow City would eek out a narrow win. To win 3-1 was extrordinary, even if luck had played a significant part. The City players and supporters both applauded each other. City manager Adie Britton, with a huge grin on his face, ran towards our terrace and threw his cap into the cheering supporters. It went straight towards Florin at first, but curved at the last moment to the feet of Little Nedved Junior. I picked it up and handed it back to Florin. For a reason I could not articulate, this seemed like the right thing to do. We were all so appreciative he had come.

Florin accepted at first, but a few seconds later handed it back. He insisted I take it. 'Adie meant it for the fans,' he said. It was an action, I have learned, is typical of Florin.

Still singing, still cheering, the City fans streamed out of Kingfield back into Woking Park. Little Nedved Junior and I parted with the main group at the turning for the rail station. It was really, really cold by this point, but it didn't seem to matter to us that much. I was elated by the victory; he frolikced in the snow. I plopped Adie Britton's cap on his head. It was a perfect day.