Bath Rugby Comes a Courtin'

Bath City fans had something to talk about other than snow yesterday. The Times broke a story about Bath Rugby's plan to build a new 20,000 seat stadium in the centre of Bath. The frenzied online discussion that followed was not just polite interest in the plans of another local sports club. The Times article cites Bath City Football Club as a potential partner in the scheme. But why would Bath Rugby want to involve City in their new home? Were they just showing some neighbourly concern? In this respect the Times article raises more questions than it answered.

If you were not familiar with the Bath sporting scene it might not seem strange at all for the two largest sports clubs in town to cooperate in a joint venture to create a new modern venue. In reality, though, Bath Rugby dwarfs Bath City in terms of support and financial muscle. Bath Rugby are one of the leading rugby clubs in the Northern hemisphere, if not the world. They not only play in the top tier of English rugby, but also compete almost annually in rugby's version of the Champion's League. They draw fans to their current home, 'the Rec,' from all over Somerset and Wiltshire. Bath City are a football club in the sixth tier of English football. Other than after the occasional FA Cup upset, City never get any national media coverage. Most people who do not live in Bath (and many who do) have never even heard of Bath City. Put it this way: if I stood in front of the Pump Rooms in the centre of Bath I would easily see several people in Bath Rugby shirts within a few minutes. I might wait a day or two before I saw anyone wearing anything with the Bath City badge on it (and when I did see them it is likely they would be someone I know). It is at first glance strange that Bath Rugby would want to involve a relative minnow in their stadium plans, or even that it would occur to them to think of Bath City in the first place.

Before revealing why Bath City are so important to Bath Rugby's proposal, let's take a moment to examine why Bath Rugby are even thinking about moving. After all, Rugby enthusiasts the world over would rank the Rec as one of the most attractive and historic grounds in the sport. There are two problems with Bath Rugby's continued existence the Rec. The first is that it is too small and old-fashioned. With less than 12,000 seats it has less than half the capacity of some of Bath's Premiership rivals. It also lacks the modern facilities to generate non-Rugby revenue from corporate events. Because television revenues are split evenly across the league, the income clubs generate from their stadium will determine their relative financial muscle in the long term. In other words, if Bath Rugby want to remain a top club in Europe, they need to move.

The other problem is that Bath Rugby do not own the Rec. It is rented from a local charity called the Recreation Ground Trust. Not owning the ground outright is bad enough, but it gets much worse. The Recreation Ground Trust not only has an obligation to preserve the Rec as an open space in the centre of Bath for the good of its citizens, it also not allowed to let any sport or organisation dominate the Rec. The exact wording is:

the corporation ... shall not show any undue preference to or in favour of any particular game or sport or any particular person club body or organisation.

Back when rugby was amateur, justifying the presence of Bath Rugby at the Rec was easy enough. Now that they are a world-famous professional sports team, and very little else of sporting consequence happens on the land, the Trust find themselves unable to fulfil their obligations and at the same time fully support their main occupant. It is an untenable position for both parties.

So where do Bath City fit into all of this? Fairly centrally, it turns out.

Bath Rugby have considered building a new stadium on several sites, including venues as far away as Keynsham and Swindon. They have looked so far afield because, being a World Heritage Site, there isn't a lot of free space in the centre of Bath. This new plan appears to have identified such a plot, an area known as the 'Western Riverside.' This area had previously been ruled off limits as the government had pressured the local council to set it aside for new housing. Now, according to the Bath Chronicle, the council might consider allowing a stadium development to take place on the land as long as a comperable area for new housing could be found nearby. There are no large, empty plots of land in Bath anymore, of course, but there is Twerton Park.

Bath City has been playing football at Twerton Park for over seventy-five years. It is a beloved and historic ground, but even its fans (including myself) will admit it is a bit on the shabby side. Redeveloping it to a higher standard has been a dream for many years, but with substantial debts hanging over the club it has always been nothing more than a dream.

Although a substantial amount of money (£2 million or more?) could be raised by the sale of Twerton Park, it is the political cover that City could bring to the table that would be the real asset. If the reported £50 million price tag is correct, whatever financial contribution Bath City could chip in would be appreciated but not essential. With enough graft, Bath Rugby can eventually source whatever money they need. What they cannot do is magic up more land for housing within the city limits of Bath. In this respect, at least, the land of Twerton Park is truly priceless.

What do Bath City have to gain from all of this? A lot, actually. Twerton Park is historic, and has a wonderful view, but thanks to a bulky railway viaduct it is geographically separated from the main part of Bath. Because of this, many Bath residents probably go their entire lives without setting foot in Twerton. City fans often speak enviously of the way Bath Rugby is situated right in the historic heart of Bath. Bath City has suffered a substantial, long term decline in attendance and many supporters blame the club's location in Twerton as the main culprit. The club must escape, they say, or eventually be doomed.

Although I personally love Twerton Park (if a psychiatrist ever tells me to imagine a 'happy place' I will think of being on the Popular Side terrace on a cold Saturday afternoon), I find it hard to deny the logic that the club must eventually find a new and better home. Here are some potential problems that could arise, though, that I think everyone should be aware of:

1) Bath Rugby want a bigger home because they have the fans to fill it. This is not a problem Bath City have. City's average attendance this year is 607, or 3% of the new venue's proposed capacity. It is unrealistic to think that being in a bigger stadium will in itself boost crowds to fill it. Even if City managed to get promoted to a higher league their crowds would likely get lost in rows of empty seats. The average attendance for a League 2 (two levels above Bath City's current level) match this season is 3,820, or only 19% of the new venue's proposed capacity.

2) One of the main reasons that Bath Rugby will want to move is to increase non-match revenue by renting the stadium out for conferences and corporate parties. Bath City will, of course, want the same. After all, City do raise a substantial percentage of their current revenue from renting the facilities at Twerton Park. Having two clubs sharing a ground does not double the amount of non-match revenue, though. Both clubs would have to divide this income, and if Bath Rugby are going to compete with the best clubs in the world it is doubtful they could afford to give up much of it. After escaping from their current fraught relationship with the Recreation Ground Trust the last thing they will want to do is enter another agreement that will put a break on their commercial growth.

3) Any joint venture with Bath Rugby would be difficult for Bath City to extract itself from if things did not go well. Presumably City would end up as a minority partner (hopefully with some very strong protections in place). Whereas now City own Twerton Park outright, and can do with it what they want, a 20% stake in a stadium will not be nearly so liquid. Who would they sell their share to if the need arose? Bath Cricket Club would certainly have no interest. Even if a buyer was found, where would Bath City go? The would be few options. Any departure from Twerton will be effectively permanent. I find that kind of scary.

Althought this news has caused a lot of excited discussion amongst the Bath City faithful, any fears we might have look unlikely to be faced anytime soon. Although it cites no evidence why this would be so, the UK Press Association article on the proposal ends, 'any move to a new site... would be unlikely to happen for some time.' It is a complicated issue involving many organisations and possibly two levels of government. Previous new stadium plans have come and gone. A fan known as 'Stillmansenior' on the Bath City Message Board sums it up well when he says, 'I could fill a scrap book with news items like these, none of which have yet come to fruition.' Eventually, it stands to reason, one will. I just hope it is the right one for Bath City.

The Poverty of Riches

One of my favourite books is Winter: Notes from Montana by Rick Bass. It is a diary of sorts about Bass and his partner moving to a remote valley in the Northwestern USA, near Yaak, Montana. He arrives just in time to begin preparations for the ferocious Montana winter. He knows that foot after foot of snow will come and render him housebound for weeks at a time. Because he is an outsider, and from a Southern state with mild winters like myself, the prospect of snow still excites him. It is supposed to be a nuisance, but he can't help but look forward to it like a child anticipating Christmas. When the first snow finally comes he tells his partner Elizabeth, 'We're rich!' He goes on saying this, and feeling richer, each time it snows. It snows a lot in Montana, so it is safe to say Roman Abromovich had nothing on Rick Bass that winter.

I moved to the Montana from a Southern state at almost the same time as Rick Bass. Just a coincidence, and I didn't live anywhere nearly so remote. I still knew exactly what he was talking about. After reading his book I would frequently annoy my native-Montanan roommates by shouting, 'I'm rich!' after twelve or so inches settled on our university town. I loved it.

There is not as much snow here in England (or bears or deer either), but I have always retained my Georgian love of seeing snow....that is, I had always retained it, until I became addicted to football.

Like cheerleaders and tailgate parties, snow is an integral part of American football. I'm not sure if it is even possible for conditions to deteriorate to a point when a game can be called off. It's hard to imagine the Buffalo Bills being nearly as successful as they have been historically if they didn't seem to face the Miami Dolphins at home in the playoffs each season. In association football (you know, soccer) snow is a big problem, though (actually, the real villain is a frozen pitch, but that usually accompanies snow). Once cold weather sweeps across this normally green and sceptered isle each match is subject to a pitch inspection by the referee. If he can't manage to stick his car key into the ground (I don't think there is any reason car keys are normally used other than they are always at hand), the the match will be called off.

Bath City's last two matches have been called off because of a frozen pitch (the latter very controversially). Last night most of the country got hit with about four inches of snow. More subzero temperatures are forcast, which will most likely keep it from melting. Saturday's away match against Hampton & Richmond Borough is in extreme doubt. In fact, if the long term forecasts are correct City may not play again until 23 January when they face Bishop's Stortford at home. That would be twenty-eight days between matches, and a staggering forty-nine days between home matches!

This can lead to some pretty serious problems. Here are a few of them:

1) It may not seem obvious, but forty-nine days without a home match is going to cause cashflow problems for the club. The pressure to outspend your rivals in English football means all clubs sail close to the wind financially. Smaller clubs, like Bath City, find it harder to stay afloat.

2) The team loses momentum. Going into the Christmas matches there was a feeling in the air that City were about to go on a real run of victories and advance into the playoff spots. Adie Britton will have a real challenge to keep the players motivated, especially when it is hard to even hold practice sessions.

3) Football fans, used to a diet of matches once or twice a week, start climbing the walls and being a nuisance to friends and family.

That last one sounds like a joke, but I REALLY DON'T KNOW IF I CAN STAND IT IF I DON'T GOT TO A FOOTBALL MATCH FOR ANOTHER SIXTEEN DAYS!!!!!!

As in most tragic situations, it is always possible to console yourself by finding an example of someone worse off than yourself. In 1963 Britain was hit by what was called 'the Big Freeze.' City fans of the day had to endure seven weeks, from Boxing Day until 9 February, with no matches. That's a full two weeks beyond what we are facing today.

There's nothing to say we won't break the 1963 record this winter, though. I can think of few things more miserable to contemplate. If it starts snowing again in the days leading up to the Bishop's Stortford match, I know what I will say: 'I'm poor! I'm poor!'

New Year Begins With Controversy

Today's Bath City match against Weston-super-Mare was postponed today in very controversial circumstances. Since Monday's home match against Havant & Waterlooville was called off as well, any decision not to play was bound to upset a lot of fans. What happened today, though, appears to go beyond disappointing and move into the realms of farce, gamesmanship, and shame.

Here is a sequence of events as reconstructed from several eyewitness accounts: club officials and volunteers arrived at Twerton Park at 10:30 am to help remove the ground covers that were in place from the previous night. Although one cover was found to have ripped, exposing a small area roughly three by five feet, the pitch appeared to have survived the overnight low temperatures in good condition. At 1pm the match referee, Mr Antony Coggins from Bicester, arrived and agreed with the Bath City assessment that the pitch was playable. According to Bath City supporter Daniel Tanner (and since corroborated by others present) Mr Coggins said, 'My bed is harder than this I have played on worse pitches than this. I have put the key into the ground and it is fine. The game is okay to go ahead. You have done a great job well done.' He then enquired about where the club had sourced their ground covers.

Fifteen minutes later the Weston-super-Mare team coach pulled into Twerton Park. According to one Bath City volunteer, Weston assistant manager Chris Smith marched straight over to the corner of the pitch where the Popular Side and the Bristol End meet. This is the area of the pitch that normally suffers from freezing, and as Weston have been coming to Twerton Park for seventy-five years, it would have been well known to the Weston management team. Moments later Smith claimed the pitch unplayable, and that his players would be risking injury if the game was allowed to start. Perhaps succumbing to pressure, Coggins held an additional pitch inspection at 1:30pm. Despite the presence of sunshine for the preceding half hour, Coggins chose to reverse his previous decision at 1:45pm and declare the pitch unfit. The Weston-super-Mare squad did not chose to stay around long after this. By the time I arrived at the ground with my two children at 2:20, their coach had already departed for home.

Arriving at Twerton Park today was confusing to say the least. Just as we entered the ground someone came up to me and told me the game was called due to a frozen pitch. I thought he was joking, but then I wondered why a complete stranger would joke with me about something like that. Two more people told me the same thing within seconds. A minute later I saw my friend Dave and his eight-year-old son. They had come for their first ever match at Twerton. I felt embarrassed, but he said they would come back again. As the gates were wide open, I decided to take the boys into the ground and have a look around.

The first thing I noticed upon entering was that the Bath City players were having a practice on the supposedly 'unplayable' pitch. I also met several other frustrated City supporters, and from talking to them, started to piece together the events of the day. In a nutshell, it is widely believed that Weston did not want to play the match. They have had some injuries and have been losing players to other clubs. In fact, according to Daniel Tanner's account, upon hearing the ref's decision to call it off Weston manager Andy Gurney 'rubbed his hands up and down with a smile on his face,' before making a sarcastic comment to City player Matt Coupe. This reportedly led to a heated argument between Gurney and Coupe that City manager Adie Britton chose to intervene in [there is some confusion about whether Coupe's exchange was with Gurney or Smith as they are somewhat similar looking].

I decided to make my own unofficial inspection with the help of a fellow supporter known on the Bath City message board as the 'A18.' We did a circuit of the pitch and spent several minutes around the area that was supposedly frozen. The grass was a bit crunchy, and there were certainly areas that could not be described as 'soft.' It was a long, long, way from the icy tundra that City had played on at Woking just two weeks earlier. It certainly did not look dangerous.

It turns out that Weston have form when it comes to controversial, last-minute postponements this season. On 5 December their match with Eastleigh was called in very similar circumstances, although the scapegoat in this instance was rain. After passing an inspection at 1pm the game looked declared 'on' by the match referee. After Weston's arrival at Silverlake Stadium the referee went on to reverse his decision, in this instance as late as 2:45. Quoting from a thread from the Eastleigh forum:

the pitch was passed as playable at 1.00 and ... it didn't rain from then until 2.45 ... so what changed?... As far as I could see there was no significant surface water on the pitch (none at all at the club house end) and the groundsman indicated to me by attempting to push his heel into the ground that the pitch wasn't particularly soggy either. I suspect that the game wa called off because Weston had a couple of players missing and put pressure on the referee.

Another poster on the same thread wrote:

Well I heard the rumour about Weston officials putting pressure on the ref to call in off from 3 different sources so there is quite possibly some truth in it.

I was alerted to this earlier controversy by 'A18's father, known as the 'A36.' They live in Hampshire and had made a long drive to see today's match. It is supporters like them who were the real victims of this farce. Many people will have travelled long distances at great expense to come to Twerton today. Every effort should have been made by all participants to get the game underway. Whatever their motives, it appears that Weston wanted the match abandoned almost from the moment they arrived. They certainly were not willing to hang around to try to get the match started once the referee had made his ruling. Seeing how football clubs exist because supporters pay to see them play, such blatant disregard for the time and money of those same supporters appears to border on the scandalous.

There have been many reactions to today's events. The fact that City were holding a full training session on the so-called unsafe pitch was a statement in itself from City manager Adie Britton. When asked by a Bath Chronicle reporter, 'you think other parties may have spoken to [Anthony Coggins] about the condition of the pitch?' Britton wisely declined to comment. Speaking of the pitch, Britton said 'we don't feel it is dangerous at all. We wanted to play and we think it's safe. We're going to train on it. We don't have a problem with it at all.' (the full interview can be heard here).

The official announcement from Weston-super-Mare AFC is surprisingly bland considering the controversy:

Today's game against Bath City fell victim to the weather, after another late call by the Referee Mr Coggins, who apparently called the pitch fit for play earlier in the day.

It then lists no less than three other occasions in the last month when referees have reversed earlier decisions about their club's matches proceding [this blog has asked for a clarification of the events surrounding today's decision from the club but as yet has received no response].

As there is nothing official to shed any light on the situation from an official Weston-super-Mare AFC perspective, I have also solicited views from unofficial sources. An appeal for comments was placed on the Unofficial Weston-super-Mare AFC Fans Forum by myself at 4:04pm this afternoon. As of writing ninety-six people have read this post, but so far no one has felt inclined to express their opinion.

Another thread was started by a Weston supporter soon afterwards, however, calling for Andy Gurney to be sacked. 'Angry Gull' wrote:

'Is it true Andy Gurney was too scared to play the game? We can run and hide all we like, but we're certs for relegation and Gurney's cowardly acts, dragging the club even further through the mud, is a total disgrace. He's sending us down as a laughing stock. Time to go....'

Weston's forum allows anonymous posting, however, and it should be noted that 'Angry Gull' is not a registered user.

The same cannot be said of the forum's moderator Sean, though. He has posted on this same thread and this is the closest thing to an official response from Weston to have been made thus far. He wrote:

No it's not true Bath City told us the game was on at 11:09 Bath City lied the ref' called the game off at about 13:55. Bath City jumped the gun, they need the money hence why they were more than happy to tell the world the game as on when in reality it was never going to happen.

I have asked 'Sean' to clarify just who he is accusing of lying, but he has so far declined to elaborate. He appears to have gotten his times as confused as his grammar, but his main thrust (I think), that the referee did not pass the pitch as playable at 1pm is contradicted by two eye-witnesses as discussed above.

The Nedved Juniors and I hung around the ground for about half an hour before we decided to head home. Both children were delighted to receive free doughnuts from the tea-bar staff who needed to dispose of perishable stock. They might have succeeded if they had tried selling them, though. At least fifty City fans had stayed on to watch the practice session.

Little Nedved Junior, who is only five, asked me to explain again why the match had been cancelled. I swallowed my anger for a moment and tried to give him a simple, unbiased explanation. Although I was cross, I instinctively did not want to draw a child his age into the controversy. 'The other team did not want to play because they thought the pitch was unsafe,' I explained.

'Then the other team are scaredy-cats,' he said.

I suppose even at age five children have a grasp of controversy after all.

It was a very frustrating moment when we left eventually. The only thing that kept my mood from getting too low was the wonderful sunshine and clear skies. Not the kind of day you expect a match to be called off because of poor weather. But then, you don't get scheduled to play Weston-super-Mare every day.



Note: Nedved's Notes will still happily publish any official response from Weston-super-Mare AFC that is received in a follow-up post.

All Dressed Up With Nowhere to Go

Yesterday was a 'bank holiday' in the UK. That's a fancy way of saying it was a national holiday. Football leagues tend to schedule matches on bank holidays because they generally draw big crowds. Unlike other games in the week, they are normally held at the Saturday kick-off time of 3pm.

After rushing through lunch Big Nedved Junior and I headed off to Twerton Park. I was very excited. I had been looking forward to the match for almost two weeks. A victory over Havant & Waterlooville would surely put City in the playoff spots for the first time for two seasons. And after the performance I saw at Woking, and what I read about the one at Weston-super-Mare, I was sure City would win.

Because I knew we needed to leave after the match in a hurry I parked on a side street rather in the club carpark. As soon as I stepped out of my car, though, something seemed wrong. City matches do not draw big enough crowds for there to be a 'buzz' around the ground (well, not often), but my spider-sense immediately picked up on the fact that it was too quiet. I tried to shrug it off, but as we headed down a footpath I got a view of the pitch. I could see there were no players warming up on it. I was trying to find some way to deny it, but the rational part of my brain had figured out there was going to be no match.

My first thought was that I had gotten the time wrong. I had just assumed there would be a 3pm kickoff. Maybe this bank holiday had an evening kickoff instead. Or maybe in the chaos surrounding Christmas I had managed to get my dates really mixed up.

I kept walking anyway, hoping as I got closer to the ground I would figure out what was going on.

After a few more steps I had my second thought. I was wearing a Bath City hat. I had a Bath City scarf on around my neck. I was wearing a Bath City replica kit. Nothing was going to look more pathetic than wandering into an empty football ground obviously dressed for a match that wasn't happening. I stopped to take all my City gear off, bundled it up and stuck it under my arm. As I turned into the carpark I tried walking nonchalantly, as if I was just out for a stroll and just happened to be walking through Twerton Park.

The carpark was empty. No away team coach. No stewards. It meant no match.

To my relief, another City fan arrived. He even had two small children with him. And he was wearing his Bath City gear. We compared notes: we were pretty sure we had the right day and the right time. We walked past Charlie's (which had its shutters down) to the club office. There was a schedule of December matches posted in a window and it did say Havant & Waterlooville, 28 December, 3pm. My companion then stated the blindingly obvious:

'The match must have been called off because of a frozen pitch,' he said.

Of course it was. There had been a post on the City forum about how there would be a pitch inspection at 10am. I hadn't bothered to look. It didn't seem that cold, so I just figured the match was on. Considering that the Woking pitch had had as much snow as grass showing, I had just assumed the match was on.

As Big Nedved Junior and I walked back to our car about a dozen or so City fans walked into the carpark with the same bewildered expression we had had moments earlier. We were all like lost sheep looking for our pasture. Or maybe druggies looking for our fix. Whatever we were like, I was in a bad mood.

I tried to decide if a postponed match was more painful than a loss. As I got in the car I was beginning to convince myself a postponed match was worse. With a day's perspective I can see now that this is total hogwash. Still, showing up at a cancelled match is a major bummer. It is like reaching into the packet for the last Hobnob, only to find that a friend had alread eaten the last one. That's the sort of thing that can put a friendship under real strain.

My relationship with Bath City is not a friendship, however. It is an obsession. I'll be back on Friday (although not before a thorough check online to make sure the match is on)!

The FA Cup Second Round, Part 2 - The Rub of the Forest Green

For The FA Cup Second Round, Part 1 - The Madness of Crowds click here.

Changing our position on the terrace took longer than I had realised. By the time we were settled again the match had been underway for several minutes. Luckily, the first few minutes were uneventful. I considered this good news - anytime City square up against full-time opposition from a higher league it is easy to imagine them getting hit hard from the opening whistle. If anything, though, Forest Green Rovers seemed rather ordinary. After ten minutes Adam Connolly used some fancy footwork to position himself for an encouraging shot from twenty yards out. It went wide, but it signalled a shift in the balance of play. City began to push FGR hard.

From my position on the Popular Side terrace I began to relax a bit. I was still singing, shouting and whooping, but the modest sense of terror that had accompanied previous Cup matches was absent. This was not because I was feeling confident City would win. I think it was actually a sort of excitement overload. This was the fifth match in Bath City's cup run this year. All of the matches had been entertaining, but nonetheless stressful. Each round had been preceded by an ulcer-inducing amount of worry about the result, and followed by an equally fraught session of trying to anticipate the draw for the next round. The Grimsby Town match had been so utterly fantastic that for the following week that normal life seemed dull and lifeless in comparison. Now I was watching my heroes take on Forest Green Rovers in a match that would give the winner a chance to play Arsenal or Manchester United in the next round. By all rights I should have been excited enough to lose substantial motor function or cognitive ability. Instead I found myself feeling relatively peaceful as I watched City's impressive midfield shut Forest Green's attack down. The only explanation I can think of for this is the mental tension must have reached a critical point and my brain shut down all unnecessary emotions. Something like that. I'm sure there is some sort of medical expert out there who will back me up on this one.

This turned out to be a fortunate phenomenon. Without it I might not have survived the next few minutes. Just before the half hour, Forest Green scored with a massive dose of luck. Their midfielder, Jonathan Smith, took a hopeful shot from twenty-five yards out. City keeper Ryan Robinson had adequate time to position himself well. He stood with his normal confident pose, waiting to catch the ball to his chest. Instead, the ball glanced ever so slightly off of City defender Chris Holland. The deflection caused the ball to go into the net about four feet to the right of where Robinson was expecting it. He tried to shift at the last moment but he was not balanced properly to shift in that direction. Against the run of play (and I mean really against the run of play) FGR had the lead.

This was a gut-wrenching moment. Not only was City trailing for the first time in their FA Cup run, but it was an undeserved goal. If my synapses had been functioning properly I'm not sure how I would have coped. Instead I decided to wait for what I thought would be City's inevitable equaliser.

My assumption that City would equalise may not have been entirely the result of a faulty thinking process. City have shown a resolve to win from behind this season that has been breathtaking to watch. What's more, they clearly had the measure of their full-time opponents. Chances were being created left, right and centre (literally), and it stood to reason that eventually someone would have the wherewithal to put one in the net. Fifteen minutes later this appeared to happen. Lewis Hogg lobbed a perfect cross to the outstretched foot of Kaid Mohamed. Mohamed was in front of an open goal. Unfortunately, Mohamed's foot was a bit too outstretched because he only managed to flick the ball over the crossbar.

A few minutes before the half my friend Dave turned to me and said, 'City are about to score. You can sense it.' Dave sensed right. Sekani Simpson collected the ball thirty yards out from goal and launched a long diagonal cross. Lewis Hogg stepped forward, unmarked, and headed it neatly into goal. The three thousand City fans crammed into the various pockets of Twerton Park went wild. It was a fantastic goal, - executed with skill and at lightning speed. I picked up Big Nedved Junior and we danced about. Surely City were on their way to victory.

Despite the fact that this goal had been on the verge of happening for most of the match, the FGR players were really shaken when they lost their lead. They had been struggling to clear the ball from their half all evening, but for the last few minutes of the half they struggled to even clear it from their penalty area. The City players passed the ball around like playground bullies, but never found the angle or position they required. This was the moment when Forest Green were vulnerable. They were almost asking to be finished off. City's finishing skills, already suffering, deserted them. The best this run of play produced was a mistimed shot by Sido Jombati right at FGR keeper, Terry Burton.

At the time I was not worried. I remarked to Dave that with all the chances City was getting, and with Forest Green only scoring through blind luck, I was sure City would win the day. Being English, and a more experienced football supporter, Dave counselled caution. You never can tell, he said.

Big Nedved Junior wanted to get some chips at halftime. The snack bar was on the other side of the ground from where we were. Normally this is not a problem, but it was clear that getting there and back in the halftime interval was impossible. The queue was probably outrageously long as well, but the solid mass of humanity around the snack bar made it impossible to tell where the queue began and the other spectators ended. We could have gone to the tea bar (much closer by), but the thousand or so people packed around it made me think we wouldn't have any luck there either. I consoled Big Nedved Junior with a description of the sandwich and crisps that awaited him in the car for the ride home. He was not impressed.

The second half began as the first had finished. City tried to take the lead as energetically as they had equalised. FGR only managed faltering attacks on the break.

One break did lead to a corner kick for Forest Green. It was the first corner City had conceded in the match. The City crowd was silent, briefly, as Conal Platt launched a kick that was too short to reach the main mass of FGR players. It was not too short to reach Mark Preece, though. He reached the ball with his head pointed down. Robinson got a hand to it, but Preece had managed to strike the ball sharply. Forest Green had another goal. Another goal against the run of play.

Big Nedved Junior tugged on my arm. 'I'm hungry,' he said again. Suddenly, the idea of queueing up for the tea bar didn't seem so bad. A welcome distraction, in fact. I agreed to take him to the tea bar. It was only five minutes before we returned with a Mars bar, it turned out. The jam-packed crowd had managed to somehow spontaneously clear the designated walkways. The queue from half-time, much reduced, was allowed enough room to function adequately. How utterly British.

After FGR's second goal City did lose their momentum for fifteen minutes or so. Forest Green were not dominant either. Other than a few runs at the City goal the game mostly consisted of intercepted passes in midfield. At the hour mark Sido Jombati was replaced by Florin Pelecaci, another crowd favourite, and the game reverted to its previous pattern: City controlling the game but unable to convert the control into goals.

The last thirty minutes of the match passed in a blur. I was riveted by what I was watching, but I somehow managed to remain hopeful City would win and resigned to a City loss at the same time. The crowd was fantastic. The singing never stopped. If you were judging a match on sound alone you would have figured City were the ones with the 2-1 lead. The FGR fans, segregated on the Bristol end, were watching their team grind out a victory, but they got quieter with each passing minute.

I had a gut feeling, or rather a firm desire, that Pelecaci would score an equaliser. Despite exuding quality with every touch, he had not seen much playing time recently. I figured he was due for a goal. While I waited, he shocked me with one of the best headers I've seen at a live match. Most of the headers in non-league football are opportunistic and uncalculated. Unless they are in front of a goal, they tend to be aimed no more subtlety than 'forward.' Playing on the right, Pelecaci positioned himself to meet a cross coming from the center. He leaped up (and yes, it was like a salmon), flexed his neck with a full 180 degree motion, and manged to play the ball downwards at the feet of a passing City player twenty feet forward and to the left. It was stunning.

Pelecaci did not score an equaliser, but he did have City's best chance. He was unmarked on the right when Hogg found him with a cross. For perhaps the only time in the match, a City player struck too early rather than waited too long. The ball went into the side netting.

Right after this moment Big Nedved Junior tugged at my arm again. 'I've lost a tooth,' he said.

He had. The right mandibular canine, to be exact. He smiled. There was a streak of blood across his cheek and a look of real pride in his eight-year-old face.

'Let me see it,' I said.

'I can't. I've lost it. It fell on the ground here,' he explained.

This was a real dilemma. My beloved Bath City were fighting valiantly to avoid elimination from the FA Cup, but my son's tooth was somewhere on the terrace around us. I knew if we waited for the match to finish we'd never find it. The stampede for the exits would overwhelm us. I'm pleased to say that I did not hesitate. I got down on my knees with Big Nedved Junior and we hunted for his tooth.

You might not know this, but football terraces are covered with all sorts of pointy, white pebbles that can appear like teeth in bad lighting conditions. I found a dozen or more objects that appeared to be the missing mandibular canine at first glance. I'm sure we got some strange looks from our fellow spectators as we ran our hands over every square inch of exposed concrete in a four foot diameter. 'Anyone seen a tooth?' I asked, but I didn't get any answers.

Everyone was, understandably, totally focused on the match. I could have said, 'Anyone seen a gold ingot?' or 'Anyone seen a large, deadly chunk of uranium?' and gotten the same reaction. City were throwing more and more players forward, and FGR made several decent attempts to go two goals ahead on the break. I stole momentary glances at the pitch when I stood up to stretch my back. There was no sign of any tooth. I mentally began to prepare a speech about how the fact that the tooth had come out was much more important than the actual tooth itself.

And then I saw it. It was one step below us in a place I'm sure I had checked half a dozen times previously. I showed it to Big Nedved Junior who scooped it up and tried to see if it would go back into its hole. I got it back off of him as soon as I could. I was convinced he would swallow it or lose it again if he kept that up.

Tucked securely in my pocket, we forgot the tooth and stood up to watch the last few moments of play. I'm sure the ref blew the whistle at the right time, but it sounded unfairly early to my ears. Despite their disappointment and nascent grief, the crowd cheered the City players. Most of them, with frustration and disappointment clearly showing on their faces, raised their hands to clap for the City supporters. It was more than the normal gesture at the end of most matches. I got the feeling that several players wanted to thank each and every person at the ground.

Dave, Big Nedved Junior and I began to walk through the Bath end to exit the ground (amazingly, we found Mark just as we started moving. He had been only a few yards away the whole time). Being knocked out of the FA Cup at any stage is horrible. Knowing that your team really should have won was a bitter pill to swallow. The loss of prize-money and publicity hurts too. As we shuffled past the hoardings, though, I realised what the biggest disappointment was for me. Drawing a Premiership side in the third round would have meant getting to see City square up against one of the best teams in the world. I desperately want to see that. City players are not famous. Once they are a hundred yards from Twerton Park they can walk down the street in total anonymity. To me, and to hundreds of others, however, they are heroes. Not just because of the shirt they wear, but because of the heart they have shown this season while wearing it. I really wanted to see Lewis Hogg tear up Manchester United's back four. I wanted to see Sido Jombati wrap his legs around Cesc Fabregas and come away with the ball. I wanted to see Chris Holland intimidate Jermaine Defoe. I wanted to see Florin Pelecaci land a perfect somersault goal-celebration on the turf at Stamford Bridge. It's not going to happen this year, but I am convinced that with a bit more luck against Forest Green Rovers, it might have.

FA Cup Second Round, Part 1 - The Madness of Crowds

Bath City lost to Forest Green Rovers 2-1 yesterday in the Second Round of the FA Cup. I should be too depressed to type right now. I should be too upset to do anything but watch repeats of Top Gear on 'Dave.' I should be too miserable to do anything but sit on the sofa listening to all seven Radio Head albums on repeat and shuffle. I am, however, resolutely not depressed. I feel proud. Proud of the team I support and proud of how well they were supported. In many years time when I am too old to do anything but sit in a rocking chair and bore people with stories about Bath City matches I have attended, it will be one of the few losses I will recount with enthusiasm.

The key facts are thus: City lost but they played well. I am biased, but I am fairly confident a neutral would have easily judged City the best team on the pitch. They played with flair, confidence, and passion. They dominated play for most of the match. They only lacked better finishes for the many excellent crosses they put in front of the FGR goal. City lost, but they did it in front of one of their biggest crowds of the decade. It was the first time I had seen Twerton Park truly crowded. It made the old ground feel really and truly alive in a way I had not seen before. Of the 3,325 supporters less than 700 were away fans. The City faithful sang from the warm-up to the end of the match, even as the hope for a victory ebbed away. It was a defeat, but City fans could be proud of their team and proud of themselves.

I arrived at Twerton Park with my friend Mark and my son, Big Nedved Junior, a few minutes after 2pm. This was a lot earlier than we normally arrived, but I was hoping that the crowd would begin singing during the warm-up and I wanted to take part. We were astonished to see how busy the parking lot was, though. There were several more coaches than usual and there were people in black and white scarves everywhere. After a few moments I realised that these were supporters of Forest Green, who also wear black and white stripes at home, queueing for the away entrance. Seeing so many FGR fans, I had a brief worry that they would outnumber us like the AFC Wimbledon supporters did last year. This worry turned out to be spectacularly misplaced.

Outside of Charlie's I managed to locate my friend Dave. We had been work colleagues for many years but I had not seen him since late 2006. After my repeated plugging of City on Facebook, and after finding out that one of his heroes, Ken Loach, is a supporter, he decided it was time for him to come to a match in person. The FA Cup Second Round seemed like a good match to start with.

Within a few minutes of entering the ground we had gotten our normal pre-match cups of tea and settled in on the terraces. Something was definitely different, though. There were already many more people inside the ground than attend a normal City match, and there was still a half hour to go before kickoff. The normal trickle of people walking across the Bath End to the Popular Side slowly turned into a torrent. I learned later that huge queues formed outside the turnstiles, filling the parking lot. My normal pre-match habit of meandering around the terraces, talking to friends and trading gossip was not going to happen. A few minutes before the match started we were almost hemmed in by fellow supporters. Big Nedved Junior, age eight, could no longer see any of the pitch except for a narrow strip to his left. It had not occurred to me that we would need to position ourselves in the front in order to give him a view.

After the coin toss the City players remained on the Bath End of the pitch. This meant they would be attacking the Bristol End goal. Normally this is a moment when almost everyone on the terrace moves to the Bristol End, but I wondered if it would be possible. I should have wondered if it would be possible to stop everyone from trying to move. Mark, Dave, Big Nedved Junior and I soon found ourselves carried along by the shifting crowd like logs on a river. I took Big Nedved Junior's hand so that I would not lose him in the mass of people. Because the area of the terrace we were moving into was still relatively full, it was a messy process. Moving meant weaving and pushing past the other spectators, but knowing that there were a hundred people behind you made it hard to stop. Once the pressure to continue lifted Dave and I decided to settle where we were. We had made just over the halfway line and no more. I still had Big Nedved Junior by the hand, but we had lost Mark. I looked around but could not see him. It was perhaps the first Bath City match in five years where two separated people could not find each other by just craning their necks for a few seconds.

FA Cup Second Round, Part 2 - The Rub of the Forest Green can be read here.