To Soar with the Eagles You Have to Defeat Some Turkeys - Part 2

As I set down to write this I am aware that I might end up saying some not very nice things about Bath City's Tuesday night opponents: Weston-super-Mare AFC (the club so nice, they reformed it twice!). Perhaps that's not fair. I'll admit that it is probably not sporting. Weston are likely to be relegated at the end of the season and not play Bath City again for several years. I also must state that I have never had the chance to get to meet any Weston fans in person. They are probably normal people who in another context would be as nice to know as anyone else.

But then, this isn't another context. Any passionate supporter will tell you there are opponents that you can develop a strong, if irrational, dislike for. I'm getting that way with Weston. The shenanigans on New Year's Day did not help. They use a lot of dirty tackles. And hardly any of their supporters travel the short distance to Twerton Park on match day. Tuesday night I could only spot about five (there may have been more, but not wearing colours or sitting anywhere conspicuous). If City have a really amazing end to this season there might be two divisions separating the clubs next year, and that would suit me just fine.

Returning to my previous narrative, the match kicked off with home supporters nervously hoping that City would show their superior ability on the pitch against poor opposition - something that has often not happened in previous years. City chose to attack the Bristol End for the first half, and the singing, Ultra-type fans (including myself) gathered round the gigantic Bath City white ensign that the City supporter known as Paul1978 recently organised. We kicked off a night of singing with 'Oh When the Stripes Come Marching In!'

Singing anything at all on a Tuesday night match is a great stride for City supporters. Mid-week matches always have smaller, quieter crowds. The last one, a 5-0 thumping of Woking in December, had been played in relative silence. A noisy crowd, though, generates the sort of atmosphere that will hopefully encourage more fans to attend. We have also been thinking it is helpful for the players as well. I'm pleased to say that I can confirm this is the case with this message of thanks from a player:

The atmosphere around the ground has been fantastic since the Grimsby game and now you have the brilliant flag it adds to the atmosphere. The support [Tuesday] night was fantastic for a evening game, the moment we kicked off you could here your singing all over the pitch. It does make a difference to the players when you hear the fans singing and creating a great atmosphere. I'm really glad you're all enjoying the games and I hope you all stick together for the rest of the season to helps get us into the playoffs.

-Thanks,

Jim

Jim, as in Jim Rollo, the Bath City captain and general legend. What Jim says, we must do. Okay everyone?

I suppose I'd better start talking about what happened on the pitch. Actually, you can probably guess. City dominated things from the start (although without scoring) and Weston started kicking anything in black and white stripes within reach. The first few minutes were typical of the first half: Lewis Hogg was just wide of the post with a strike from the edge of the penalty box, quickly followed by a two-footed assault by Weston's Craig Rand on Kaid Mohamed. The home support may have seen red, but match referee Antony Coggins only saw yellow.

A few minutes into the match I met up with my friend James. James works on Saturdays, but comes to the occasional mid-week match. This was his first appearance at Twerton Park since last seasons soul-destroying loss to Bishop's Stortford (not to be confused with last month's soul-destroying draw with Bishop's Stortford). After a few minutes of chatting I suddenly realised just how much has changed in the last nine months.

He was really shocked to see the flags, to hear the singing, and by the size of the crowd. More importantly, he was shocked to see how well City were playing. Last season City were a solid team who showed flashes of brilliance, but mostly just flashes. This season, despite injury setbacks and a small squad, City have become a team that pass the ball with a silkiness that the snootiest haberdasher would feel proud to display. Feel the quality!

Although James has enjoyed coming to matches with me, he has always assumed a slightly mocking tone. It is friendly banter between mates, but when he's seen a boring match he has not refrained from disparaging comments. Suddenly, as we watched yet another brilliant cross into the box from Sekani Simpson, he could not do that. He didn't want to do it either. 'Is he a new signing,' he asked of Simpson, with the Ultras' songs ringing in our ears.

I assured him he was not, and that 'Simmo' has even impressed the presenters on Soccer AM. Simmo was on fire, and City were thumping Weston up and down the pitch. I had a sudden upswelling of pride as I realised just how much the club and the supporters have accomplished this season.

After hearing so much about the undynamic duo of Andy Gurney and Chris Smith (respectively Weston's manager and assistant manager), I invited James to come with me and stand behind their dugout for a few minutes. I was hoping to hear something shocking, like the instructions Gurney had reportedly given to his team on Boxing Day to get City's Lewis Hogg sent off. We listened for about twenty minutes, and I can say that nothing incriminating was said at all. There was some low level intimidation of the linesman, and a bit of wandering out of the technical area, but nothing serious. When Gurney did shout something to his players it was, 'Don't foul!' He shouted this over and over again. To me, that's the equivalent of carrying a fragile vase and having someone behind you shout, 'Don't drop it!' I'm not the professional football coach, though. Maybe they needed reminding.

City continued to dominate play, but not score. I will admit that this worried me. Unconverted half-chances were racking up quickly. Even poor teams can punish you when you fail to take advantage of a dominant spell. Luckily City did eventually take advantage at thirty-four minutes.

Sekani Simpson (as previously mentioned - on fire) eluded a Weston defender on the goal line and launched another perfect cross into the six-yard box. This led to one of my favourite goals of the season. Normally favourite goals are the ones that come unexpectedly, like Mike Perrott's stunning volley off a Jim Rollo cross against Chelmsford in the season opener. This goal, however, was clearly going to happen almost from the moment the ball left Simmo's foot. Kaid Mohamed was in the perfect spot to get a good header, and was for once not being molested by any Weston players. Weston's Lurch-like keeper, Kevin Sawyer (who to be fair, had an excellent game) was going to have no chance. It was still a thing of beauty, though, even though it was not subtle or mysterious. I, of course, went completely nuts and started screaming like a banshee. Like a banshee stood only a few feet behind Andy Gurney, I should say.

The half ended with City almost scoring twice more. James and I returned to the Popular Side of the ground. As we walked I reflected on how many goals City could have scored, and how surprising it was that match referee Antony Coggins had assumed such a low profile. After his flip-flop on the suitability of the pitch on New Year's Day, I was expecting more controversy from him. It turned out I needed only to wait until the second half.

Well, twenty-five minutes into the second half, to give him credit. Between minutes forty-five and seventy, the second half was much like the first: City dominating but not converting. Then all heck broke loose.

Weston striker, Josh Klein-Davies came at Lewis Hogg with a dangerous tackle on the sideline near the main stand. I was surprised by this. During a loan spell with City last season, Klein-Davies had come across as lazy an disinterested. I didn't know he had a dangerous tackle in him. Anyway, Lewis Hogg didn't like this very much. There are several versions of what happened next, but I am going to relate the one I heard. I sprinted over to the other side of the ground and questioned two fans who stood only a few feet away from the events that followed. They gave roughly the same story, and stood far enough apart from each other that they had not conferred. Here is what they said:

After being tackled from behind, Hogg stood up and said a few unkind things to Klein-Davies, who was still lying prone. Klein-Davies stood up eventually, and, taking Hogg by the face, proceeded to simulate receiving a head-butt from Hogg. He then threw himself back onto the pitch. This led to a lot of aggressive posturing from players on both sides, and a lot of people separating various players to keep things from getting out of control. A long time passed, with Coggins seeming unable to resolve the situation and get the match back underway. Eventually a red card was shown to Klein-Davies. Predictably, a red card was shown to Hogg as well. Although at least a minute passed between the two red cards, there was a further scuffle in the tunnel. Klein-Davies, two separate people told me, had been waiting in the tunnel for Hogg.

Coggins appears to have been suckered by the Weston striker. It was not be the first time, of course, he had been pressured by that team into making the wrong call. Coggins had assumed a low profile in the first seventy minutes, but he had done this by going too easy on the bad tackles Weston had been employing. Now, as he tried desperately to stamp his authority back on the game, he just looked ridiculous.

Suddenly there was not infraction so small that it could not require a whistle. One free-throw was re-taken four times. Players on either side who got a bit physical received long lectures about something or other. Coggins made it look important with lots of gesticulating. Well, he tried. Shorter lectures earlier in the match would not have gone amiss.

Although both sides were equal with ten men, the new dynamic seemed to favour Weston. They began to pressure City in a way not seen in either match. They even managed a decent shot ten minutes before time. As injury time approached I began to worry Weston would earn their second ever draw at Twerton Park.

Then, a bizarre match got even more bizarre. At ninety minutes Weston made their third substitution. On to the pitch came....Andy Gurney. That's right, the manager. It's not unheard of for a manager to name himself as a sub in non-league football. I suppose they want to make the squad look a bit bigger. It is pretty weird for one to actually suit up and come on to play. This was the fifth time Gurney had named himself as a sub this season, but the first time he'd actually come on. At thirty-six he's not quite too old to be a player, but it was his first league appearance for any club since he left Newport County for a career in management in 2008. I can't help but wonder what his motivation was here. What was the best outcome he could have expected? If he got a goal and levelled the score, what would the dressing room be like after the match? Wouldn't he be undermining the confidence of his own players? Wouldn't they all secretly (or not so secretly) hate him? And then there is the outside chance he could embarrass himself and shred whatever personal authority he has left. Certainly, an odd-ball call.

In the end Gurney failed to have much impact on the final few minutes (which I guess still makes the decision hard to justify). Coggins whistled for full time, and the relieved City fans roared with triumph. Things were good. City was in eighth place. Bring on Dover Athletic. Goodbye, until next season, Antony Coggins. Goodbye, hopefully for many seasons, Weston-super-Mare AFC!