Darlington fan Paul Hodgson has kindly given us permission to serialise his book on the official website -- today it's chapter 18, covering January 2000.

Check out the trailer for Paul's movie here:

https://darlingtonfc.co.uk/news/give-them-wings-trailer

The fixture computer had drawn us against York City at home for the first match of the new Millennium.

  I met Mike, Ian, Simon and Steve Keeney in the Dalesman.

Our main topic of conversation was the New Years Eve party that I went to at the Colburn Lodge with Ian, Janette Marquiss and Gary Stockhill, a colleague from work.

It had been a brilliant evening. The party went on until seven in the morning. It goes without saying that I was rather the worse for wear by the time I had got home.

 Trevor Rutter then arrived with Brian Elsey. They had both travelled up from Sheffield and told us that they thought that Darlo would win easily. Last, but not least, Mark Trenholme from Huntingdon turned up

Unfortunately, we had all got together for nothing, as shortly after we learned from a steward who had popped in for a pint that the match had been called off. This was really frustrating, as no pitch inspection had been planned due to the mild weather.

We all decided to go to the ground to see what was happening. We were met by the sight of club officials being hounded and abused by some of the fans. One man who had travelled up from London threatened to tear up his season ticket in protest.   Sensibly, he decided to put it back in his pocket.

Luke Raine apologised and explained that the game had been called off due to the state of the pitch. According to Luke, when the pitch was rolled the ice came to the surface, making it unplayable. The fans eventually calmed down and dispersed.

The rest of the lads headed home whilst Mike and I bought a programme from the Club Shop. I asked if they’d reissue the same programme when the match was eventually played. The girl behind the counter didn’t know.  I hoped they wouldn’t as the copy I’d just bought would become a collector’s item.

After a quick pint in a deserted Strikers Bar, we left the ground and went back into town to the Nags Head.

Neither of us was in the mood for drinking and we went home in a cab at seven thirty.

Later, George Reynolds claimed that it was the Highways Agency who were to blame for the postponement.  He said that “If we had the new stadium, then we wouldn’t have had this problem.” In other words, he was putting the blame on the Highways Agency for delaying work commencing on the new stadium.

However, at the end of the previous season, when Darlo had to postpone nine home games in total, Mr Reynolds had confidently boasted that he had fixed the problem concerning the waterlogging of the Feethams pitch at a cost of only £4,000.

Clearly, the problem was still there. Four days later the club invested in a £70,000 inflatable pitch cover.

 Mike ordered a taxi from his house for the away game against Chester City. It arrived at ten. The driver had a number one crew cut, two gold earrings in his left ear and a blue swallow tattoo on his left hand. He was wearing a pair of black UMBRO jogging pants and a black hooded top.  Not the type of look you’d expect from a cab driver!

We arrived at Catterick Bridge (where we were going to meet Ian to continue our journey)

The two of us waited in the entrance of the Bridge House Hotel, opposite the racecourse. It was a showery and bitterly cold day. I was shivering and coughing with flu.   In truth, I shouldn’t have gone as I felt really ill. Ian didn’t arrive until eleven, with Simon and Graeme in the back of the car.

The drive to Chester was uneventful until I gave the wrong directions and Ian made an unnecessary detour from the motorway.   We simply re-joined the motorway about a mile down the road, not a problem!

We went through Chester city centre and followed the signs to the ground, with the river Dee on our left. We arrived at the Deva stadium which was on a barren industrial estate, at about half past one. We were charged £2 for car parking.  As usual I’d forgotten to bring my disabled badge.  

We saw the Darlington team coach which had just pulled into the ground. The players got off and I shook Hodgy’s hand. “Catch you later,” he said, after I wished the team good luck.

 The five of us went to a burger stall near the ground. Mike didn’t get anything but the rest of us had burgers, bacon butties and hot dogs. I wondered just how much money the man raked in every home match?  I had to admit, however, the food purchased there was really nice, unlike Cambridge and Hartlepool!

We each bought a programme and then went to the Chester City Social Club. Roger Martin was already in there.  For once he was optimistic and thought Darlo would win.  I agreed as Chester looked like being relegated and we needed to beat teams like them if we were to gain promotion.

Mike and I had two pints of lager each. Whilst Mike munched a packet of cheese and onion crisps, I told him that my new carer had tried to boil me an egg for breakfast that morning. But she hadn’t put any water in the pan and consequently burnt a hole in it. She hadn’t cooked an egg before she said! I asked Mike to give me his opinion on what her IQ would be.  He thought about ninety which corresponds with someone with learning difficulties!  We all laughed.

During the game we were in the disabled area and then moved towards the Darlo end for the second half. There were about 200 Darlo fans there in a crowd of just over 2000.

 We won 2-1 that day with goals from Craig Liddle and Marco Gabbiadini in what was a hard fought game, which saw Chester City player John Keister red-carded after forty-two minutes for impeding Jesper Hjorth. Worryingly, Steve Tutill fractured a cheekbone and Neil Aspin sustained knee ligament damage and would be out for quite a while.

After a pretty uneventful journey, we arrived back in Darlington at seven thirty, with Ian dropping us off at the Dalesman.  Mike and I had a couple of pints before heading home at around nine o’clock.

Our next game was another away fixture, this time at Macclesfield Town. The taxi arrived at five minutes past nine taking Mike and I to the railway station.

We purchased our tickets then went to the buffet for a cup of coffee.

The two of us caught the direct train to Manchester at ten to ten. The disabled place was free and so we sat next to a pretty bespectacled blonde girl working on a laptop computer.  

After she finished working she put the laptop away and got out a book entitled Perfect Time Management. Maybe we should have taken note of that omen!  Interestingly, she didn’t say a word during the whole journey.

The Trans Pennine Express was delayed by about three quarters of an hour. To alleviate the boredom, Mike bought us each a can of lager which we drank whilst trying our best not to look at our companion’s legs!

On arrival at Manchester Piccadilly, we got in the passenger lift in order to get to the right platform. Once we were there, we went for a coffee in the buffet.  It was far too strong and mine was quickly discarded. We caught the quarter past one Virgin train to Macclesfield.

 A guard and a railway worker wearing an oily fluorescent orange jacket unfolded the ramp and Mike pushed me on board, before going to purchase our tickets from the ticket office.

We arrived in Macclesfield at half past one and had to get in two lifts to cross the platform. We left the station and headed for the Millstone pub. However, there was no sign of Brian and Trevor from Sheffield who were supposed to be meeting us there.

After a few drinks, Mike booked a taxi to the Moss Rose ground where we arrived at two o’clock. We got out in the car park of The Silkman pub. 

When Mike pushed me inside we saw that Earl Gray and then Roger Martin were already in there. I sat with them while Mike went to get some programmes. 

On his return, he told us that the programme seller was very dim and had a list he had to refer to in case he sold multiple copies – e.g. £10.80 for six copies.  Roger in particular found this highly amusing.  I said that it would have been hilarious if there would have been a really long queue of people each wanting six or seven programmes on a windy night and his list blew away.  There would be mayhem!

After finishing our drinks, the four of us headed to the ground at a quarter to three where we bumped into John Wilson. He told me that he had a ticket already for the Brighton match.

We were looking for gate one and sent hither and thither till at last we were admitted. Mike pushed me to the corner flag next to some disabled Macclesfield fans. There was a minute’s silence before the kick-off for Cliff Lloyd of the PFA who had died that day.  It was impeccably observed.

Two lads on the fire escape of the Silkman pub were watching the match free from their vantage point. I thought that it would be funny if they fell, they might pay to watch the game next time!

The ground was really non-league standard. There were what appeared to be temporary stands on the far side of the pitch, which resembled green and white structures with canvas roofs. Quite an eyesore really.  Clubs with such poor facilities shouldn’t, in my opinion, be allowed in the league. Unfortunately, fans have to suffer because the Football League appears to be lenient with clubs with poor facilities.  They should be given twelve months to sort things out and if work isn’t at least started, they should be booted out of the league.

 Some lads behind us were shouting, “Geordie maggots” and moaning because we had a rich chairman. Apart from being incorrect about us being Geordies, they were certainly jealous of the fact we had money and they had canvas roofs on their stands!

We lost the game 2-1, with our goal coming from Jesper Hjorth.  Overall it was a poor performance and we got what we deserved, nothing. Ironically, we fielded three central defenders that day and were caught out for the goals by two set pieces.

After the game we went to The Silkman. It was shut and we saw a disgruntled Earl Gray standing outside.  Therefore the three of headed to another pub called the Traveller’s Rest.  We had a few pints in there, whilst talking about the match. The main highlight to come out of it was the performance of Jesper Hjorth who was looking to be a great signing, he had strength as well as pace which was a good asset in this division.

On entering the toilet, we found that there was no light until a man had it turned on for us.  They must have been saving electricity I thought to myself, Mike was so cold he warmed his hands on the hand drier, the wimp!

Eventually after leaving John in the Traveller’s Rest, Mike pushed me into the town centre because he needed to visit the cashpoint. We had a look in the Millstone again, where we had a quick pint, before heading to the Nags Head, which seemed a pretty rough place. There was a black cat sniffing round my wheelchair. It stank of urine so I shouted at it and it ran away.  I hate cats at the best of times, but this was particularly horrible due to it’s smell.

We had a couple of bottles of Bud then rang a helpline number for rail services. Mike was told that there’d been an accident in London and nearly all the trains were delayed. What do they say about black cats again?

After finishing our drinks, we went to the station. To reach our platform we had to use two lifts. However, it was just our luck that we were on the wrong side after all and missed our train! It left at quarter past six. We therefore had to wait in the Waiting Room until seven o’clock to catch the next one to Manchester.  Fortunately, when the train did eventually arrive, we were assisted by a station official to get the wheelchair on board.

When we got to Manchester we asked a station official the time of the next train to Darlington. Once again, there was a twenty-minute delay.

Whilst we were waiting Mike bought a Whopper meal for himself, and got me a hamburger without any garnish from Burger King.

 By the time that we had eaten our food the train was about to depart.  Once on board, I bought two cans of Carlsberg from the trolley.  By the time we arrived in York I’d drank them both, leaving Mike snoring, with his mouth open and his glasses hanging off his nose.  He looked a right state!

We got to York at quarter past nine and after waking Mike up, we got off the train and went and sat in the buffet. Mike drank a coffee whilst I had a Bud.

We caught the ten to ten Newcastle train – the Trans Pennine Express. It stopped at Thirsk, Northallerton and Darlington, before finishing its journey in Newcastle.

On arrival in Darlington, we went to the Dalesman for a nightcap. We each had a Bud, then I had a half of lager. We ordered a taxi for half past eleven and got to my flat, only to find that I’d lost my front door key.  We therefore went to my sister’s house, in the hope that she would give me my spare but there were no lights on. Eventually, Mike took me to his place for the night, thus ending quite an interesting day.

Our next scheduled home game against Shrewsbury was postponed, once again due to a waterlogged pitch. On that occasion I hadn’t even left the house before finding out, thus saving me the effort of getting to the ground.

 We then played York at home in the rearranged fixture. I met Mike and Ian in the Pennyweight for a change.

Whilst we drank our pints, Mike told Ian about me losing my door key; Ian said that I should wear it around my neck on a piece of string. I didn’t fancy that idea and anyway I had only lost one key in ten years which isn’t bad going.  Ian still found the whole episode rather amusing though.

After we had supped up, the three of us went to the ground.  Ian took me straight to my regular spot and sat behind me as time was getting on and we didn’t have time to visit Strikers Bar.

Incidentally, the club did print a new programme for this match, so I was pleased that I had bought the original one a couple of weeks before.

Darlo played reasonably well and registered a 2-2 draw with Gabbiadini getting both goals.  It was a fair result on the night. Gabbiadini was particularly outstanding and fully deserved his man of the match award. Martin Taylor, signed on loan from Blackburn Rovers, made his debut at centre half and had a good game.

After the game, Ian took me to Strikers to meet Mike before heading home.

Mike and I had a pint before heading to the Dalesman; we were later joined by Earl Gray and Richard Jones.

I resisted the temptation to stay out until all hours and headed home at half past eleven, leaving John and Richard merrily drinking away.

 The following day, The Northern Echo reported that manager, David Hodgson, had said of the pitch, “It was a mudheap last year, and now it’s four or five inches deep in sand in some places.” Of the expensive inflatable pitch cover he commented, “It can’t turn mud into grass, even Aladdin couldn’t do that.”

Our next match was Brighton away.  I went on my own, having arranged to meet John Wilson and his wife Bev at Kings Cross.

I was supposed to catch the twenty past eight train. However, it was late due to high winds and we didn’t depart until a quarter to nine.

Whilst getting me on board, the GNER assistant almost got stuck on the train with me because there was a trolley in the disabled place and he therefore couldn’t get me in. He shouted for people to move it and managed to wheel me in my place and get off the train in the nick of time. The panic on his face was there for all to see!

Sitting opposite me was a woman with a walking stick. As she was talking lots of newspapers fell out of a bag all along the corridor. She was unable to pick them up, and so people were just walking over them. Eventually, a kind-hearted soul collected them up for her.

After we moved off from York an announcement came over the tannoy to say that, due to the fact that the half past seven train had broken down, we would now be stopping at Doncaster and Retford. To make matters worse, due to the high winds, we were also informed that the train would only be able to travel at a maximum speed of eighty miles per hour, making the journey time longer still!

At Doncaster a man sat next to me. We got talking and he told me that he was from Cambridge. I therefore mentioned that I had a friend who lives near Ely, i.e. Stephen Lowson.  He said that he had family there and goes there quite often.

 At Retford a woman got on with a daughter who was aged about twelve or thirteen.  She told me that she was a music teacher and her daughter (Alice) started to play around with her mobile phone. Her mother said that Alice had just got it for Christmas, but hoped that the novelty would soon wear off!

A Darlo fan called Nick went to get me a coffee from the buffet. I had spoken to him last season on the way to Leyton Orient. He told me that he doesn’t drink, to which I just shook my head!

 After Nick had returned to his seat I carried on my conversation with the music teacher. She told me that they were going to London on a shopping expedition.

  In a funny kind of way I thought she was quite attractive with a nice figure and an interesting personality, albeit a bit old for me, possibly in her late forties I thought.

 She went on to explain that she lived in a vicarage in Retford with her husband and two other children. I gave her my email address and told her about Flipper’s Side and When Push Comes To Shove.

 We arrived in Kings Cross at ten to twelve – over an hour late.  John Wilson and his wife Bev met me on the platform. From there we went to Kings Cross Thames Link station to catch the train to Brighton.

 A German tourist helped us down the two flights of steps to the platform. After his good deed, he shook all of our hands then said goodbye.

 The train arrived within three minutes. It wasn’t difficult for John to get me on board as there was only one step. I gave Bev her ticket and we chatted to a family from Manchester.  The bloke supported Leicester. Bev is a Chelsea fan so there was a bit of banter going on between them.

 An hour or so later we arrived at Brighton station from where we went straight to a pub called the Yeoman. Once inside I  bought myself  a toastie and a bottle of Bud.  John explained  that the pub had been in the good beer guide the year before but had now changed hands. I thought the change had affected it for the worse as the standards were very poor.  However, due to the poor weather we stayed in there.

 On arrival at the ground, the three of us all went in the disabled area where there was no cover. The Darlo fans were under cover but the Brighton fans weren’t, which seemed a bit strange. The Withdean Stadium was actually a former athletics stadium and was therefore not very good for football. The atmosphere was helped by the fact that there was no one behind any of the two goals.

 As a matter of interest on the way to the ground every 50-100 yards there were stewards to ensure that fans didn’t park on people’s house fronts.

 Mark Kilty (a first year professional) made his debut and played well in midfield.

During the second half it started to rain heavily. Nick’s friend let me borrow his jacket to put over my legs and a steward lent me a rain hat whereupon all the Darlo fans around me took the mickey saying that I looked like a fisherman!

The game ended a 1-1 draw with Mark Kilty, Glenn Naylor and Marco Gabbiadini all outstanding. Substitute Peter Duffield netted Darlo’s equaliser in the second half. John, Bev and I all thought that a draw was a fair result.

After the match we got a cab back to Brighton station and had a quick pint in the Yeoman before catching the train back to London.

On arrival, the three of us went to a pub called Finnegans Wake for a pint since Bev likes her real ale.

She was more than happy after she had sampled two different ones. We then headed for Kings Cross station only to find out the train had been delayed so we went to Coopers Bar for yet another drink.

Eventually John put me on the train at quarter to nine, forty five minutes late.

 I bought two cans of lager and Earl Gray came to sit with me for a while. We talked about the game and we both agreed that a draw had been a fair result. He offered to take me to where the rest of the lads were sitting but I declined as it would have been too much of a chew on. He finished by telling me that someone opened a door in one of the many pubs he had visited, and it hit him in the face. I said that he should take water with it!

I also chatted with Nick. Naturally, he was sober as a judge so he was telling the truth that morning!

We arrived in Darlington for a quarter past eleven. As arranged, Mike met me off the train.

 After a quick pint in the Dalesman, we ordered a taxi home. Before going to bed, I had a quick look at the Teletext. We were still fourth in the table.