City Host a Stag Party!

Before the FA Cup draw for the Fourth (and final) Qualifying Round was announced yesterday I had a sinking feeling that we were going to draw Eastleigh. Bath City had had two fortunate draws in a row: Willand Rovers, who play three leagues below City, and Bishop's Cleeve, who play two below. It seemed unlikely that fate would smile on us for a third time. With Newport County having been eliminated by the lowly Paulton Rovers (ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, oh stop it!), Eastleigh's goonish, elbow-happy giants seemed the most likely bogey team to be cast our way as payback for our recent good fortune. If not, then Dover Athletic, Hayes & Yeading or Hampton & Richmond could also provide equally unattractive opposition. After a nervous morning drinking too many cups of tea and checking the FA website every five minutes, the results of the draw finally appeared.

AFC Totton! At Home! I was thrilled. I went round the office punching the air. AFC Totton! I mentioned it to everyone. I mentioned it to my colleagues who hate football just so I could hear myself say it again. 'Did you know that City drew AFC Totton in the next round of the FA Cup?' They would just roll their eyes and nod vaguely (and of course they did know because I had just asked them the same question five minutes previously). AFC Totton!

I was so pleased, of course, because AFC Totton (the Stags) was one of the lowest ranked teams remaining in the competition. That should, in theory, make them easier to beat than a higher ranked team. I say 'in theory' because this is often not how it works out, as in the recent case of Newport County's loss to Paulton Rovers (ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, mercy!). City will still go into the round as strong favourites, however, and you can't ask for more than that.

AFC Totton are in the same league as City's opponents in the last round, Bishop's Cleeve. The league's current name is the 'Zamaretto League Division 1 South & West.' This is a league City fans are becoming increasingly familiar with as we will now have played three of its teams inside a month. You may be wondering what a 'Zamaretto League' is when it is at home, so let's take a moment to explain.

The lower leagues of the non-league pyramid often forgo their traditional names in order to pick up a bit of sponsorship money. The 'Zamaretto League' is actually the Southern League, which has been playing since 1894 and which Bath City have been champions of three times (most recently in 2007, when it was known by the rather dreary title 'British Gas Business League'). Previous to this it was known as the Doc Martens League and the Beazer Homes League. None of these names are as wacky as the current one, though. Sensing that there was an untapped market for flavoured amaretto drinks (as in more than just the normal sweet almond flavour), InterContinental Brands (ICB) have released eight new flavoured concoctions spiked with day-glow food colouring. These are (and you might want to sit down to read this): Blue Raspberry, Banana, Cherry, Apple, Pear, Peach, Chocolate and Original. Sensing that Banana flavoured amaretto is just the sort of tipple the pie-and-chips-loving non-league football crowds would fancy, ICB took over the sponsorship deal as British Gas moved out. The people who came up with Dasani tap water and Crystal Pepsi had nothing on these guys.

The other odd thing about the Zamaretto League Division One South & West is that it isn't truthfully a 'division one.' The top level of the Zamaretto League is the Premier Division. Below that are Division One Midlands and Division One South & West. There is nothing below either of these (in other words, no division two). It is hard to think of what the point of having a division one is without a division two. Perhaps there were some clubs that were especially thin skinned and someone thought they would feel better if they were placed in 'Division One.' Despite their apparent sensitivity, however, three clubs from the Division One South & West remain in the FA Cup: AFC Totton, Mangotsfield United, and Paulton Rovers (who recently defeated Bath City's rivals Newport County - ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, oh lordy!).

Despite their league's silly name, City will need to take Totton seriously. As I write this the news of their eleventh victory on the trot has come in. And, surprisingly, Totten supporters have generally reacted to the news of the draw with as much jubilation as I did. I suppose it could have been worse for them. 'Dibden Stag' wrote on the AFC Totton forum:

This is a good draw and a game we can win, Bath's current form isn't too good, 3 wins 4 draws and 5 losses in the Conference South. They beat Bishops Cleeve away 4-1 in the last round, the same score we beat them by, so I think we have a good chance of making the first round.

The bad news for Dibden Stag, and the good news for City fans, is that City have been giving textbook lessons on how to defeat lower league teams in their first two appearances in the Cup. With £12,500 in prize money up for grabs manager Adie Britton will be pulling out all of the stops for a win in front of the Twerton Park faithful. He won't be making the same mistakes Dean Holdsworth recently made with his Newport County side in Saturday's loss to Paulton Rovers (ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, oh, it hurts now!).

Well, I hope not, anyway.

Come on City!

The Most Perfect of Perfect Days!

If you are a Bath City fan then yesterday's meeting with Bishop's Cleeve was the most important match of the season. It was not actually the glory of a FA Cup Third Qualifying Round that made it so important, though. What really made it a must win was the prize money: £7,500 was up for grabs for the winner. Adie Britton made in clear in this week's Bath Chronicle that without this extra money players were going to be cut. After seeing the upheaval the club went through last year after an exit in the same round to Aylesbury United, the idea of a loss to Bishop's Cleeve was unthinkable.

It could have been a long, quiet hour-and-a-half drive north into Gloucestershire for my friend Mark and me as we contemplated just how devastating a loss could be. It could have been, but wasn't, thanks to the presence of both Nedved juniors in the back seat of the Nedvedmobile. Little Nedved Junior kept up a steady chorus of, 'are we nearly there yet?' and Big Nedved Junior gave Mark a detailed account of Four Four Two's top 100 football players of the year (which he had practically memorised the day before). It was distracting enough that we made a wrong turn in Cheltenham and got stuck in some seriously bad traffic. By the time we had gotten through it we were seriously worried we were going to miss the kick-off.

We had reason to worry as well because finding non-league grounds at the lower end of the pyramid is not something you can take for granted. Once clear of Cheltenham our directions took us to a suspiciously rural area at the foot of Cleeve Hill. There were no signs to indicate that you were approaching a football ground and I began to think we had made another wrong turn. Fortunately my doubts were misplaced. It turns out that instead of signs, Bishop's Cleeve employ a woman in a pink top to stand by the road and point to the match-day parking through a gap in the hedge. How she is able to tell who is coming for the match and who is just a random person driving down Kayte Lane I don't know, but she got it right with us. She peered intently at me though the windscreen, sized me up, and pointed with a determined thrust of her arm.

After paying our entrance fee (£7 adults, kids under 12 free!) and snagging a program (£1) the four of us entered the ground where Bath City's season would either continue in hope or crash in ignominy. The sun was shining disconcertingly brightly for a match of such sombre importance. The ground itself consisted of a clubhouse and snack bar fronted by an expansive patio. This led on to a well-maintained but uneven pitch which was surrounded by a stout brick wall. For the most part spectators perched against this to view the match. Little Nedved Junior had to perch on top of it , actually, as he was too small to see over it on his own. There were two small covered stands for those who wanted a bit more comfort.

As the two teams entered the pitch through an accordion style tunnel my stomach began to tie itself in knots. What if we lost? How would City supporters deal with a defeat? Could we not all gather together, hold hands and say a quick prayer before kick-off? Mercifully the match kicked off before I could think of any more questions.

Because both children were having trouble seeing the match the four of us spent the first ten minutes wandering the perimeter looking for a spare bit of wall that was not quite so high. This distraction was a good thing for my nerves because, as it turned out, Bishop's Cleeve began the game with a determined style and good organisation. Even better for my nerves was a header from Marcus Browning that ricocheted off the Bishop's Cleeve post. The Villagers were not phased by this, though, and immediately took the ball down the other end for a decent shot on goal. Arrrhhhhh!!!! Didn't these clubs in the lower Southern League know they were supposed to be pushovers!

As we skirted past one of the miniature stands we passed by City defender Chris 'Dutch' Holland. Dutch is one of the more imposing players you will ever come across in non-league - not just because of his size or his penchant for wearing black leather gloves like a Bond villain. No, he has that intangible sense of authority that you associate with policemen and the scarier sort of high-school principles. You don't mess with him, basically. He has missed the last few matches due to injury but I was pleased to notice that underneath his Bath City polo shirt he was wearing the high-performance long underwear he is fond of. Perhaps this indicated that he might have been prepared to sit on the bench if needed.

Our journey round the pitch was unsuccessful, so we ended up right back where we had started at the corner flag opposite the goal City were defending. Some ladies came round with a basket asking if I wanted to buy a ticket for the half-time draw. A supporter at Tuesday night's match against Bridgwater had told me to make sure I entered this draw. The Bishop's Cleeve manager is a butcher and supplies the prizes (first prize beef, second prize pork, and third prize chicken). After some reassurances about how big the portions were I gladly bought a £1 ticket.

About this time, though, I began to have a very bad premonition. It began to seem blatantly obvious to me that City were going to lose and that the whole season was going to unravel on the pitch before my eyes. I was sure of it. I decided not to tell Mark. There was no need to upset him before it was necessary.

It was a good thing I kept my mouth shut because my premonition, fortunately, turned out to be completely bogus. Former Bath City defender, Steve Jones, tripped Kaid Mohamed from behind and the referee pointed to the penalty spot. Because the Bath City crowd was spread out, and perhaps because we were all so tense, there was only a muffled cheer. Was this really happening? As I was trying to decide whether to pinch myself or not Darren Edwards lined up and took the shot. Despite making poor contact he somehow managed to get the ball in. City had the lead! City might win after all! The season might not be lost! The tension began to ease out of me like a balloon with a slow leak.

Little Nedved Junior tapped me on the leg. 'Daddy, I'm hungry. Can I have a hotdog.' Normally I hate queueing for anything during a match, but I was feeling giddy. 'Absolutely!' I said.

By the time we had circumvented the pitch again and navigated the excessively slow queue at the snack bar the first half was nearly over. We found a bit of unoccupied wall on the end City were attacking just in time to see the next goal. Jim Rollo launched a free kick into the left corner to reach Gethin Jones. He took the ball into the danger zone, and after a moment it landed for Mark Badman to slot it home. It was an excellent bit of play, and, I'm proud to say, not untypical for Bath City this campaign.

A third goal in injury time would have made it a perfect half. Like a genie granting three wishes, the City players complied! Florin Pelecaci, who had spent the half being quietly excellent in midfield, reached Badman with an excellent cross. After some hesitant defending from Bishop's Cleeve he was able to plant it into the net for his second goal of the match. The match was on the verge of turning into a romp. My premonition was turning out to be really wrong. I've decided not to listen to premonitions any more. Not until next Saturday, anyway.

The halftime break was notable for two things. Little Nedved Junior told me he was cold and took up my offer to put on my sweatshirt. It turned out that he was not cold at all but liked the idea of wearing something ten sizes too big for him. He bobbed and twirled as we moved around the ground which made him look like a giant grey jellyfish. Secondly, we found a section of the ground with a shorter wooden fence that meant both boys could have a clear view of the pitch. I mistakenly thought this would cause them to watch the second half quietly.

It didn't matter if the boys were a bit rowdy, though, because the rest of the match went by in a bit of a blur for me. I was so relieved that City appeared to be on their way to victory that I had trouble concentrating on the progress of the game. I do not think I was alone in this as most of the City fans around me chatted to one another amiably as if we were all just enjoying a jolly day out and not watching a season-defining match unfold before us. The tone got even more jovial when word was passed around that Newport County were losing to our friends Paulton Rovers 1-0. This was shaping up to be a perfect afternoon.

A touch of concern returned to our voices briefly, however, when Kevin Slack beat the City defenders to a long goal kick and easily beat City keeper Steve Perrin. Despite this goal, though, Bishop's Cleeve never again ruffled City's otherwise excellent defence. I knew I should have started worrying about the match after they scored but City were just too dominant. With seemingly inevitability, Edwards restored the three goal lead with a looping header off a Jombati cross with fifteen minutes left.

A few minutes from time a huge cheer rose from the City fans gathered around the Bishop's Cleeve goal. The person next to me said, 'That would be the Newport result. They must have lost.' A moment later he was able to confirm this on his mobile.

Full time was blown to a rousing cheer from the travelling City faithful. We were in the hat for Monday's draw. We had defeated a team that had beaten fellow Blue Square South side Weymouth. We had played with determination, passion, and flair. Most of all, though, we had secured £7,500 and would not have to release any players.

The drive home was peaceful and uneventful. Between the need to distract the children and the England commentary on the radio Mark and I did not have much opportunity for conversation. It did not matter, though, because it turned out we only had two things to say, which we said over and over again whenever there was a moment of quiet.

'We won 4-1!' one of us would start. The other one would immediately say, 'Yeah, and Newport lost!'

I was so wrapped up in these two facts that it was not until we reached the M4 that I realised I had not found out what the winning numbers were for the halftime draw. I had been hoping to bring home a half side of beef for Mrs Nedved!

Darn! It was still a perfect afternoon (but if anyone from Bishop's Cleeve reads this my ticket number was 111!).

City Wins Its Freedom Through Defeat

Considering what low esteem I have for the Somerset Premier Cup as a tournament, it might surprise people to know that I was desperate to attend Tuesday night's match against Brigdwater Town. It was a meaningless game in a meaningless competition, but it was precisely the absurdity of the match that appealed to me. Bath City are my team, and if they have to drag themselves down into the Mendips on a Tuesday evening to play a match they would rather not win, I want to be there to see it. I can't really explain it any more than that. Perhaps I am just stupid.

Perhaps stupid, but not as stupid as I had been the previous year when City were drawn against Street (yes, there is a town in Somerset called 'Street'). That match had been my first ever proper (well, sort of) match as an 'away' fan and I set out with plenty of time so that I could arrive early and soak up the atmosphere (well, I had thought there would be atmosphere). I arrived in Street at a quarter to seven, but then spent the next two hours driving around the town looking for the ground. I called the club office several times, only to get directions that made me even more lost. Finally I got so desperate that I swallowed my male pride and asked a local for directions. Again, this just sent me around the same roads I had already explored recently. After a last desperate call to the club office I finally found it, or rather I realised I had been driving past it all along. The club, in its wisdom, had decided to position their entrance sign so as to be in total darkness after dusk. Because I ended up arriving just before halftime the man at the turnstile took pity on me and offered to let me pay only half price. I, rather churlishly, told him I would pay full price if they would use the extra money to buy a light bulb for the entrance.

Bridgwater, it turns out, is a half hour farther away from Bath than Street. I was worried about having a similar experience. After bundling my colleagues out of our office a minute after closing time and gathering a sheaf of Google maps I had printed previously, I pointed the Nedvedmobile south and set off. I did drive past the Bridgwater ground on the first attempt, but eventually I got close. The fact that there was no visible entrance sign for the ground at night did not throw me this time. I tried every entrance in the vicinity of where the map said it should be. After a detour through a local college and a rugby ground I found the right place. I jumped out of my car and made it inside just before kickoff. Victory!

Just after passing through the turnstile I had a chance to buy what turned out to be a very entertaining program. At forty-eight pages it was a much heftier volume than one would normally expect for a meaningless cup match. The inside was not just a series of adverts, either. There are five full pages on Bath City (including a match report from the Newport County match last Saturday) full accounts of Bridgwater's league and FA Cup progress so far, two collumns written by a local fan named 'Walter,' and several pages of archive material from previous meetings of the two clubs. Bridgwater's program is obviously a labour of love for some devoted fan. Ironically, the effort and devotion needed to produce it Tuesday night would far outweigh the effort and devotion of the two clubs to win the match it was covering.

There was one odd thing about the program, though, and that is the cover. There are two photographs. One is of Bridgwater's joint manager Leigh Robinson in a shirt and tie looking like he has just caught the smell of something rather unpleasant. He also appears to be holding an imaginary pint glass in one hand. The second picture is topped by the FA's Respect logo and shows a Bridgwater player screaming and falling to the ground. His expression is so over the top I assume this is an illustration of 'simulation.' The only thing I can think of that would connect the two pictures is that they could both be good examples of the art of miming. Perhaps Marcel Marceau has fans in Bridgwater.

The ground itself was neat, tidy, and well designed. It had all of the amenities one would expect at a club in step four of the non-league pyramid, except everything looked newer and in better repair. The pitch looked well maintained and even. The floodlights pleasingly bright. It felt as if this was a houseproud (or rather, 'groundproud') club. I suspect they have ambitions for greater things than Division 1 South & West of the Zamaretto Southern League.

The only odd thing about the ground was that it was part of a string of sporting facilities. One end of the ground bordered a rugby ground that appeared to have much larger stands. On the other end there were a series of five-a-side football pitches, including one that was in use. Only a wire fence separated the their match from ours, which gave the proceedings a slightly surreal atmosphere. Those ten players could have watched the match that I had paid £7 to see for free, but instead they chose to ignore it an concentrate on their own game. It felt strangely insulting.

There were plenty of paying Bridgwater fans who were very attentive to the match, however. Most fans sported team scarves or baseball caps. Like the program and the ground, they seemed a little bit too well put together for a meaningless match at this level.

The match kicked off quietly and I realised I felt a bit conflicted about what I was watching. Adie Britton had obviously decided to field as weak a team as possible, or rather, field what was as much of a reserve side as possible. Of the starting eleven only Matt Coupe, Kaid Mohamed, Mike Perrott, and Richard Evans could be described as established, healthy members of the first team. The keeper was someone named Dunn I had never heard of. A fellow City fan told me he is a keeper we play only when we want to lose. Mark Badman was playing his first game after an injury. The rest of the squad included teenagers Jamie Taylor, Raif Gwinett, and Ashley Caldwell. Callum Hart who had just joined the team made his first start in defence. All of these players, except Dunn, are expected to feature in City's future, but at this point it was the sort of team one would select for a friendly. Sensing what Coach Britton's priorities were I was only mildly disquieted when Bridgwater scored on a break towards the end of the first half. Dunn blocked a shot into the path of an oncoming Bridgwater player. The rest of the first half was largely forgetable.

At half-time a Bridgwater fan came over to the small cluster of City fans I was with . He asked if this was really City's first team. We said no. As if to illustrate the point City stalwarts Lewis Hogg and Sido Jombati began to kick the ball around the pitch. They moved with the relaxed style of substitutes not expecting to be used - something unthinkable in a league match. We asked the Bridgwater fan if they were playing their best team. He said that thier three best players were on the bench. 'I don't want us to win this,' he confessed. Suddenly being a goal down didn't seem bad at all.

The second half started much more brightly. City began to zip the ball around midfield and launching crosses into the Bridgwater penalty area. I began to reflexively hope for an equaliser, even though I knew a victory could lead to an away match on a cold November evening against Portishead or Minehead and a clogged fixture list. I decided it is almost impossible to watch your team and not will them to victory. A few mintues into the second half a ball from the five-a-side match flew onto the pitch. Fortunately it was while the players were lining up for a free kick. It was a quinessential non-league moment.

City continued to dominate play for most of the second half, but Mohamed was not able to penetrate the Bridgwater defence playing alone up front. Eventually City's inexperienced defense was caught out again and Bridgwater took a 2-0 lead.

Faced with a two goal deficit with only half an hour left to play Adie Britton made a decisive substitution. He took off Mohamed, City's only recognised striker on the pitch, and replaced him with holding mid-fielder Jim Rollo. It was exactly the right move to make to make sure City didn't score. It confirmed to me that a loss would be a welcome outcome. When the scoreline went to 3-0 a few minutes before full time I didn't even wince.

Bridgwater's fans cheered mightily when the referee's whistle blew. They gathered around the entrance of the pitch and raised a loud cheer when the Bridgwater players passed by. They did this knowing that further rounds in the Somerset Cup was just an unwanted millstone for their club, a millstone Bath City was now free of. I can not blame them, though. If City had won I would have done the same. You must show appreciation for your team when they win. As I walked to the car park in silence, though, I was glad that in this instance, I did not have to.

The Blue Blazers Speak

I had a response today to the email I sent to Somerset FA Chief Executive Jonathan Pike (see Cup Kafkaesque).

Here it is:

The Premier Cup is, as the name would suggest, the premier competition in Somerset; however I am aware that it has lost some of its lustre among the competing clubs in recent years and I know that a number of the clubs have at times questioned the relevance of the competition, especially in comparison with league fixtures or lucrative FA competition matches.

However under FA rules any clubs wishing to enter the FA Cup and FA Trophy/Vase, must as a prerequisite enter their own county cup competition to be allowed to enter the FA national competitions. As all of the teams entering the competition do also enter the Cup and trophy/vase, this then mandates that they have to enter; I would stress that this is a FA rule and not a Somerset FA one.

I hope this is of some use

Jon Pike

Chief Executive

I must admit that I was not expecting such a frank and earnest reply. He obviously did not write the Somerset FA's mission statement. To me it sounds like Mr. Pike is saying that the Somerset Premier Cup only exists in order to allow clubs to fulfil their requirements to the FA. If so then perhaps the boys in blue blazers are just as annoyed by this competition as everyone else. Perhaps each year they say to their wives, 'Well, I would like to stay home and watch Midsomer Murders with you tonigh,t but I have to go to this blasted cup final again. They're even making me wear that ridiculous blazer with the badge. Now where is it? You haven't left it at the dry cleaners again, have you?'

Well, something like that, anyway.

I've asked Mr. Pike for clarification. If this is indeed his stance then I will be contacting the FA post haste!

Cup Kafkaesque

Bath City were ejected from the Somerset Premier Cup tonight by Southern League side Bridgwater Town. It was not a narrow loss either. Bridgwater won a convincing 3-0 victory. It was the sort of defeat that could really shake a team right before a crucial FA Cup match on Saturday. It was the sort of defeat that might bring pressure on a manager to resign or cause fans to tear up their season tickets in disgust -- except it wasn't because this was the Somerset Premier Cup. Being ejected from the competition in the first round without picking up any significant injuries is probably the best result City could have hoped for. Really??! What the heck is going on?

The idea that there are multiple trophies at stake in a single season took a while for my American brain to adjust to. Most American sports have only a single championship. European sports leagues usually have several, meaning it is possible for a team to have an average season in the main league competition but still come away with some other title that supporters can point to with pride. Sometimes, though, the extra competitions are just a distraction, and are best dispensed with at the first opportunity. The Somerset Premier Cup is just such a competition.

In the fifty-one times the Cup has been contested, Bath City have won it eighteen times. That's more times than any other Somerset club. That's more times than League 1 rivals Yoeville Town. No one cares. Absolutely no one. There are no 'Somerset Premier Cup Winners' tee shirts printed. No commemorative mugs. The final I went to one year didn't even have a program printed.

Advancing in the cup brings precious little reward. There is no prize money if you win. There is no prestige if you win. There is nothing at all really if you win other than a share of the pitifully small gates (which even then you have to split three ways between the two teams and the Somerset FA). No clubs field their first-choice team until, perhaps, the final (and that's only if the final occurs after the regular season has concluded). It is a woeful excuse for a tournament and no one would mourn its loss if it was allowed to wither away.

This begs the question: why play the Somerset Premier Cup at all? I ask this question regularly whenever I can find someone who looks likely to answer it. The answer is always thus: we have no choice. The Somerset FA have the authority to force all clubs registered in Somerset to play. If they did not have this power, no one would bother. What's worse, Somerset Premier Cup matches take priority over league matches, so if you find yourself so unfortunate as to advance into the later rounds you can have important league fixtures postponed to play Frome Town (as City found to its disadvantage last year). The competition is nothing more than a nuisance imposed from above by a faceless bureaucracy. Faceless bureaucrats, who I have been told repeatedly, are 'old men who wear blue blazers.' What is the source of their power and why are they allowed to keep it? So far no one I have approached can answer this.

I can't tell you much about them yet, but I can tell you that the Somerset FA do have a penchant for second-rate corporate waffle. In the otherwise excellent program for tonight's match you can read the mission of the Somerset FA:

"To Provide opportunities for everyone to fall in love with the game.

Equality For All

Strive for Achievement"

There are some curious uses of tense and capitalisation in this, but a distinct lack of meaningful content. And I have yet to attend a Somerset Premier Cup match that would cause anyone to 'fall in love with the game.' Attending them is more like a grubby one-night stand than a love affair. Afterwards you wonder if you really should have.

This whole setup reminds me of Franz Kafka's unfinished novel, the Castle. In that book the hero, 'K,' is trying to navigate the impenetrable maze of regulations that govern his activities as a land surveyor. He knows that he needs some sort of permission from the administrators who reside in the castle above his village, but just what he needs and who he needs to see to get it is impossible to determine. No one in the village can help him and his only course of action is to try and arrange appointments with an administrator named 'Klam' who is always too busy to help. At no point in the book is K required to play meaningless football matches, but I think that is only because Kafka died before he could finish the book.

Like K, I have written a letter to the Somerset FA's own Klam, Chief Executive Jon Pike. I have included it below. If I get a response I will publish it in tomorrow's post (which will also include my account of tonight's match and my impressions of Bridgwater Town). Until then, be on the lookout for men in blue blazers!

Dear Mr Pike,

I have just returned this evening from watching Bath City lose to Bridgwater Town in the first round of the Somerset Premier Cup. I have a few questions for you if you don't mind. I am American and some of the traditions in British sports still confuse me.

Bath City lost and are therefore ejected from the tournament, but as far as I can tell tonight was the perfect outcome for City. No further injuries were picked up by the already injury-depleted squad. Now Bath City are free to concentrate on important contests like the league, the FA Cup and the FA Trophy. There will be no inconvenient mid-week matches away to Minehead. Winning would have just heaped bother and inconvenience, at best, onto what an already challenging situation for the club.

I do not speak for anyone other than myself, mind you. I'm just a supporter.

I know that most City supporters feel the same as I do, though, that the Somerset Premier Cup is just a waste of time and a chance to pick up injuries in a pointless competition. I met several Bridgwater supporters who were equally eager for their club to lose. It is decidedly odd to hold a competition that no one wants to win.

My question is, why have it at all? What is the purpose of the cup? In what way is it not a burden to clubs already struggling with a difficult economic climate? If you abolished it, would anyone complain?

People tell me the competition persists only because of 'old men in blue blazers' who have the authority to make it continue and to force clubs to play in it. Is that true? It sounds kind of spooky.

I find the whole thing perplexing. Please help.

Yours truly,

Nedved

Where There is Smoke There are a Few Bad Apples

Yesterday's match against Newport County was one of the away matches I wanted to see most this season. County are not only bitter rivals (well, as bitter as we get in non-league football) but I guessed Newport would be near enough that Mrs Nedved would not begrudge a day pass. Besides, as she comes from a large Welsh family, anything that involves going to Wales is generally viewed in a positive light.

There were some factors weighing against the trip, though. I had pressed my luck pretty far by going to see the FA Cup fixture in Willand the week before, and the draw for the upcoming round was an attractive away fixture at someplace called 'Bishop's Cleeve.' Three away matches in a row would be a tall order. Taking one or both children would help, but here the 'bitter rival' tag that made the County match attractive to me worked against it as a family outing.

Whether deserved or not, Newport County have a bit of a reputation among Bath City fans. County fans were blamed for busting up a chippy in Twerton on their last visit, and prominent City supporters have sworn off every visiting County's Spytty Park ever again after previous bad experiences. What's more, there had just recently been controversy over visiting County fans spitting at rival supporters at a match in Woking. Is this a place I should consider taking my children?

I posted this very question on the Bath City forum and got a mixed response. Well, actually I'm being polite by saying it was mixed. It was pretty much uniformly against the idea but several people did make the effort to point out that it was a minority of Newport County fans that caused the problems. You know, the 'a few bad apples' routine. Notably, one prominent fan said that the Newport County match was the only one he did not wear 'colours' to. Kind of scary.

Because I am a fair minded person, though, I decided to post the same question on the Newport County forum. After all, it might be a case of smoke without fire. To a man (and in one case, woman) County fans were adamant that I should come with the kids and several people went out of their way to make sure I felt welcome to do so. Some of the reassurances were not actually all that reassuring. Remarks like, 'You shouldn't have a problem but probably best to keep them away from the covered terrace,' were not as encouraging as they were probably meant to be. In a nutshell I was advised that if I brought the kids they would probably hear a lot of bad language (I was told that this can no longer be avoided in the modern world) but, as long as I kept my eye out to avoid any flash points of violence, nothing worse.

The decision not to go was pretty straightforward. I think if I had gone with the kids it probably would have been fine on the day, but in this case the 'probably' wasn't nearly strong enough. Not taking the kids meant not going myself.

I contented myself with listening to the match on the Newport County Internet radio station known as the 'Amber Line.' Listening to commentary (understandably) biased against your team is a bit disconcerting. I found the 'Amber Line' especially so because despite the healthy attendance of 1,410 the broadcast managed to make Spytty park sound like it had no more than a dozen people in it. The standard of commentary, however, was generally pretty good. Talking non-stop about a football match for ten minutes at a time is no easy task but the commentary team did generally make it sound easy.

I do have one bone to pick with County presenter Ray Taylor, though. He criticised City for only bringing fifty or so fans to the match. 'Considering it is quite a short distance, that's poor,' he said. When you consider that (a) many fans who normally travel deliberately chose not to (b) several of those that did travel felt it unsafe to wear identifying clothing (c) visitors were being advised by Newport County fans not to sit in the terraces he could see, it wasn't really all that poor.

Hearing City lose would be pretty depressing whoever was doing the call, I suppose. A goal in the seventh minute by Charlie Henry was enough to see County to a 1-0 victory. Despite the score line, City played well for much of the game according to all accounts (even the Amber Line commentary). It was the familiar story of City not playing well enough to win, but playing well enough against tough opposition to give you hope for the future.

Fortunately normal non-league service resumes next Saturday with the FA Cup match and a home match against Dorchester Town the following week. It will be nice to mingle with the Bishop's Cleeve fans and not give a thought to what I am wearing or be looking out for flash points.

As I wrote this, though, I worried that I was being unfair to the County supporters. After all, everyone at Bath City is adamant that most County fans are all right. How would I feel if City was tarred with a similar reputation that had nothing to do with me?

Perhaps I am being unfair. I will try to come to a match at Spytty before long. I have stated so on the County forum (although if County are promoted it might take a while). This same forum, though, with its large proportion of mean-spirited anonymous posts and peppering of foul language, is a strong enough warning in itself to make sure that when I do come it will be without the kids.

The Beat Goes On!

And now it is time to check in once again on my new hometown football club, the Atlanta Beat. That's the Atlanta Beat of the recently formed league known as 'Women's Pro Soccer' (WPS). Yes, I support a women's team. Got a problem with that? I hope not.

The Beat are what is called an 'expansion' team, meaning that they are currently being created out of whole cloth to compete in the WPS's second season beginning in Spring of 2010. This is being accomplished through a series of special drafts and free agent players. The first draft, a special 'expansion' draft, was reported about in a previous post (see The Beat is Back!). Last week the next stage, something called the 'international draft,' took place.

Although 'drafts' are a regular feature in all American pro sports leagues, even I struggled to figure out just how this one worked. It seems WPS rules allow each club to sign five international players, and the draft would allow the Beat (and fellow expansion club Philadelphia Independence) to fill these slots. As the WPS is the new global force in women's football I figured that it must mean they were to chose from a pool of players from around the world who had put themselves forward to leave their home countries and come and play in the States. Oh how wrong I was.

The Beat and the Independence were allowed, in fact, to select absolutely any international player in the world not already attached to another WPS club. This would not make them Atlanta Beat players automatically, though. The Beat would be in only obtaining the WPS 'rights' to the players. It would still be up to them to approach the player's club and the player themselves to negotiate a transfer just as it happens in the rest of the football world. All the Beat would be gaining, in effect, was a chance to try and sign foreign players without competition from other WPS clubs. Would that be meaningful enough to matter?

Even though it is only one season old, the WPS has already established itself as the premier women's league in the world. Anyone who paid attention to England's steady progression to the European Championships final would have noticed that its best players were registered with WPS clubs. Before last season the Los Angeles Sol were able to tempt away the world's best woman player (a Brazilian named Marta) from one of the world's top women's clubs (two times Champions League winners Umeå IK). It is early days, but the WPS on the road to being what the English Premiership is to the international men's game.

Speaking of Umeå IK, the Atlanta Beat obviously admire their program. Just take at look at the Beat's five picks in order from the international draft: Ramona Bachmann (nationality: Swiss, club: Umeå IK), Johanna Rasumussen (nationality: Danish, club: Umeå IK), Mami Yamaguchi (nationality: Japanese, club: Umeå IK), Maurine Dornelles Goncalves (nationality: Brazilian, club: Santos FC), and Therese Sjögran (nationality: Swedish, club: Malmö FF). So, basically, the Beat are hoping to pick off three of Umeå's top players. Umeå is a world powerhouse in womens' football. I can just imagine how eagerly the Umeå manager awaited a call from Atlanta as soon as he heard the news. It would be sort of like calling up Alex Ferguson and saying, 'I know you haven't heard of us before, but we would like to sign Rooney, Giggs and Ferdinand if you don't mind.' I could be wrong, but somehow I doubt the Beat are going to come away with all three.

I expressed my doubts to Atlanta Beat General Manager Shawn McGee, who (much to my shock) responded: 'We have done our due diligence by talking to players, coaches, and teams to select the players that certainly want to be in Atlanta and who are excited to play in the WPS.' I was very impressed to get an answer at all, but I don't think Mr. McGee was telling me the whole story. Why should he? I'm just some strange blogger living in England.

The reason I have my doubts is that the Beat have yesterday announced the signing of Mexican international Monica Ocampo. According to the press releases she is one of the top women's players in the world. She was a finalist for FIFA women's player of the year in 2006! It appears to be a real coup, and a welcome attacking option to what so far has been a primarily defensive lineup.

What is not clear, though, is why if Ocampo is so fantastic was shy playing the W-League (second division) last year, or why she was not one of the five international players chosen by the Beat last week (to be fair this could be because of some rule I am not aware of as I find some of the WPS regulations to be as Byzantine as anything the FA has ever come up with)? Is this signing to make up for one of the draft picks turning the Beat down? Ramona Bachmann was always going to be tricky as she turned down another WPS club last year.

To be honest, I'm not going to worry about it much. As any Bath City supporter can tell you, the signing of any accomplished striker is reason enough to celebrate. In another unexpected email response I got word from Atlanta Beat head coach Gareth O'Sullivan that he anticipates, 'playing with an attacking style.' Here is the first definite sign that he is going to get what he wants. Is it okay for Umeå IK to relax now? Probably not yet, but I will be letting you know.

And let's hear it for the Atlanta Beat management team, especially Media Relations Manager Christa Mann! Could they be any nicer? Everyone from Atlanta is amazing, actually. Just ask us.