When Push comes to Shove -- Chapter 9

By Ray Simpson

When Push comes to Shove -- Chapter 9

Paul Hodgson's book on the official DFC website

During the lockdown, Paul Hodgson has given us permission to reproduce his book "When Push comes to Shove" on the official website.

Here's chapter 9, which covers March 1999.

And here's the previous chapter:

https://darlingtonfc.co.uk/news/when-push-comes-to-shove-chapter-8

 

 

Our next match, the first game of the month, was away to Swansea City.

    Unfortunately, due to a bad spasm attack the night before I was unable to attend.  The annoying thing was I had bought my rail tickets in advance.  I got a percentage of the money back but not all of it. 

    John Gray went to the game by himself (he had intended taking me). He said that Darlo were abysmal and wouldn’t have scored if they’d have played all night!  We lost the game 2-0. On hearing John’s comments, I was almost glad that I had the attack!

    The following fixture was away to Brighton & Hove Albion at Gillingham’s Priestfield Stadium, where they groundshared at the time.

    I went there on my own, catching the half past eight train to Kings Cross. 

     During the journey, I sat next to a young woman with three children in tow. What caught my attention was the fact that she seemed to have rather a lot of luggage with her.

We got chatting and she told me that she had left her husband and was going to stay with her parents in London.

    I bought her a coffee and her children a soft drink. She said that her husband used her as a punch bag and she had to get out of the relationship.

    Although not feeling one hundred per cent fit after my recent spasm attack, listening to her story made me feel fortunate. At least despite being disabled and having health problems, I could still do whatever I wished, whereas she was saddled with three kids and all her worldly possessions stacked on the luggage rack! It really made me think.

    On arrival at Kings Cross, Stephen Lowson met me off the train, and after saying goodbye and good luck to my travelling companion, the two of us set off to Gillingham, Brighton’s temporary home. We continued our journey by train and we were there by half past twelve.

    In the first pub we visited (the Will Adams) we bumped into John Gray and Richard Jones who had both caught an earlier train to London. John was surprised to see me. Neither he nor Richard for that matter, had expected to see me after I had been so ill the week before. 

    John apologised for not getting me a programme from the Swansea match. He said he stayed in the pub until ten to eight and by the time he got to the ground the club had sold out.  Stephen and I ribbed him saying that he travelled all the way to Swansea and then sat in a pub, missing the kick-off in the process!  Poor John just didn’t have an answer. Incidentally, I wrote to Swansea later that week and they were kind enough to post a programme to me, free of charge.

    We left John and Richard in the pub at half past two and headed for the ground.  At twenty past three John staggered into the away enclosure without a programme again. Stephen and I just looked at him and laughed.

    We were lucky enough to see one of our best away performances of the season with Darlo winning 4-0. Marco Gabbiadini netted a hat-trick, with the other goal an own goal from Brighton’s Peter Smith. It was certainly worth the effort, expenditure and time to witness a performance like that.

    After the match I had a quick chat with manager David Hodgson and congratulated him on the team’s performance.  I’d had a go at him regarding poor performances in two previous games, so it was good to have the opportunity to give him a pat on the back.

    After a quick pint in the Will Adams, Stephen, Richard, John and I headed back to Kings Cross. John and Richard were booked on the same train as me on the return journey, so they sat next to me. Once the three of us were on the train, Stephen set off home to Coveney.

   John purchased a dozen cans of lager from the buffet and we drank them whilst talking about the match. The three of us all agreed that Marco Gabbiadini had been a very shrewd signing by David Hodgson. This was being borne out by the number of goals he was scoring.

    After a while, they both fell asleep and I read my programme whilst drinking my lager.

    Before I knew it, we were back in Darlington and after waking John and Richard up we got off the train and headed straight to the Dalesman. The place was empty so we went home at around midnight.  I was sober by the time I went to bed, but it had been a truly great day, the result making it so.

    The following Saturday Southend United were our visitors. As usual I met Mike and Ian in the Dalesman. On his arrival, Ian presented Mike with a plastic water bottle!  I found this hilarious – even Mike managed a smile. I said that all he needed now was a bike to go with it.

    Brian and Trevor joined us and we all left the pub together and headed for the ground.

    Once we got our programmes, the five of us went to the Centre Spot, where we met Steve Keeney.  Steve had gone to Brighton the previous week and had really enjoyed the day. Unlike me he had made the journey on the Supporters Club coach.  With me having problems with my legs it just isn’t sensible for me to be lugged on and off a coach. If I  allowed that  to happen, I could be off work for weeks so I prefer to use another mode of transport,  either train or car,  although I would use the coach as a last resort. 

    Mike and I left the bar in plenty of time to take our place in the disabled area for the start of the game.

    Once again Darlo put on a good show, winning the match 2-1 with goals from Gary Bennett and Mario Dörner. Maybe manager David Hodgson’s threat of resignation had spurred on the players to putting in a better performance, who knows? But it was certainly a more confident looking team.  Mario Dörner was particularly outstanding.

   After the match, Mike and I went to Northallerton by train for a night out. We were sick of going around the same pubs in Darlington, so we opted for a change of scene.

    We spent most of the night in the Black Bull on the High Street. The clientele were certainly better than those that frequent our usual haunts on a Saturday night.

    Northallerton is a market town and many farmers live in the surrounding areas. In his younger days, Alan, my mother’s brother, lived on a farm in East Harlsey which isn’t far from Northallerton town centre. So, I knew the place fairly well having visited there several times in the past.

Anyway, we ended the night in Elders pub.  The place was heaving with punters.  To my surprise, we met former Darlo star Andy Toman there as well.

    Andy played a pivotal part in helping secure Darlo’s place back in the Football League following their relegation to the Vauxhall Conference. It was nice to reminisce about the days he had spent under former manager Brian Little. However, Andy reminded me that every time he saw me back then with Ian we were both drunk. I have to admit, he was right!

    Unfortunately, with talking to Andy, we forgot the time and ended up missing the train back to Darlington.  So we simply called a taxi and paid £16 for the privilege of getting home!

    Carlisle United were our next visitors to Feethams the following Tuesday.

    I met Mike and Ian in the Centre Spot as my taxi was late, making it impossible to go to the Dalesman beforehand.

    After a swift half, Ian took me to the pitch-side disabled area, where he sat with me, with Mike going up in the seats in the East Stand.

    Darlo maintained their recent good form, resulting in a hard-fought 1-1 draw, with midfielder Steve Gaughan netting our goal.  Overall, a draw was a fair result. Gaughan had one of his better games and deserved his goal.

      After the match, Ian pushed me to the Centre Spot to meet Mike where he had a quick pint with us before heading home to Catterick.

    After Ian had gone, Mike and I went to the Dalesman.  John Gray and Richard Jones were in there. I resisted the temptation to join them for an all-night session and headed home at eleven o’clock.

    Our final match of March was away to Exeter City. It was a Friday night match so Steve Keeney and I decided to go for the weekend.

    We caught a Virgin train direct to Exeter, the only problem being that it didn’t have a disabled toilet! Imagine the intolerable situation of travelling for six and a half hours without being able to go to the loo should the need arise. I told the guard that it was a disgrace that the two of us had paid almost seventy pounds apiece, including the disabled person’s discount. In response, he said it wasn’t his problem, and that I would have to wait until we arrived in Exeter if I needed to go to the toilet.

To while away the time, I read the newspapers that we had bought. There was an interesting article in the Daily Express stating that almost forty per cent of people between school-leaving age and twenty-five can’t read a train or bus timetable. It was reported that some people couldn’t even calculate the correct change after spending £2.53 from a £5 note. I take such things for granted and found the whole article amazing.

We arrived in Exeter at half past three.  Steve sensibly hailed a taxi from the station forecourt to take us to the Park View hotel. Although it was only a two minute drive away, the route took you up a one in four hill! Fortunately, we’d already pre-booked a room, because the hotel was full.

Although our room was adequate it wasn’t wheelchair-friendly. In addition, we couldn’t get to the dining room, as the doors were too narrow, so Steve arranged to have breakfast served in our room.

We freshened up and then went to the Duke of York for tea. After that we headed to the ground. On our way, we bumped into Mike Peden. He told us that he was still refusing to pay Hartlepool United the money they were due from the ticket sales because of my incident at the game. He also stated that our new signing Martin Carruthers had cost the club £35,000.

  Steve and I met John Gray for a pint in the Supporters’ Club bar.  He’d made the journey on the coach, which had taken him around six hours.

Once at the ground, we were given free tickets for the game from Gordon Soulsby, the Darlington Supporters’ Club Vice Chairman, who had obtained the tickets via the players.

As had happened several times before, we were turned away from the visiting supporters end by a cocky steward.  I have been to Exeter many times and their stewards must be the rudest in the league. (Remember this book was written 20 years ago) Eventually, Steve and I were dismayed by the steward’s bad attitude so I demanded to see his supervisor. I explained that there was plenty of room for the wheelchair in the away end and that common sense should prevail. As usual, common sense didn’t prevail!

We were made to sit in the uncovered disabled area. The ground was still ramshackle – as it was in the 1980s. In my opinion the whole place should be demolished. The two of us almost froze to death because there was no protection from the elements.

Darlington played really well and David Preece was outstanding in goal. It was a good job because Michael Oliver was sent off for violent conduct just before half time. New signing Martin Carruthers had a good debut up front.  Overall, Steve and I were happy with the 0-0 draw, especially as we were down to ten men for the whole of the second half

After the match, we went into Exeter city centre for a few pints. We visited the Timepiece and the Hole in the Wall, both situated in Baily Street. The Timepiece had an adjoining nightclub, but we didn’t fancy going in as we weren’t dressed for the occasion, having gone there straight from the football.

To our amazement, all the pubs had to close at half past ten which was due to some sort of regulation that dates way back to the city’s early Christian heritage. This didn’t matter to us as by then we had had enough to drink and headed back to the hotel.

After breakfast the following morning, we decided to walk into the city centre and have a look around the shops. Steve even managed to drag me into visiting the museum, which had a football exhibition called “The Homes of Football.” Eagle-eyed as ever when it comes to my beloved Darlo, I spotted a shirt on a wall with the old Hutchison Telecom logo and a photograph of the famous Gary Coatsworth looping header. It was a really interesting place to visit.

After leaving the museum, we went to a pub called Strikers Café Bar for dinner. They offered two meals for only five pounds, so it was good value for money.

After dinner, we moved on to The Duke of York in Sidwell Street where we watched the England match against Poland on the television in the bar.

The Exeter fans in the pub thought that Darlo would make the play-offs. We spoke to one fan in particular and we arranged to meet him later for a few pints.

Once the televised game had finished (a 3-1 England victory) we headed back to the hotel to watch the highlights of Exeter versus Darlo on the local television station.

After the footie programme, we got washed and changed and went to a pub called the Waterfront which is near the river, where we had an excellent meal. Steve was particularly impressed when he saw the waiter bringing some onion rings stacked up a foot high on a wooden holder. I only had one, so Steve must have scoffed the remainder!

The Exeter fan, who incidentally was called John, turned up, as he had promised, for a few drinks. He was in his mid-forties and had supported the club for twenty years, going to most games home and away.  He turned out to be really good company. By half past ten however Steve and I were both shattered and decided to call it a night.

After saying our goodbyes to John, we booked a taxi back to the hotel. In our room Steve made a cup of tea by which time I was already asleep.

    After breakfast on Sunday we paid the bill, left the hotel and went for a wander, buying some newspapers along the way.

We then headed for the station in plenty of time to catch the ten to one train back to Darlington. It was yet another Virgin service with no disabled toilet for six and a half hours. The trip home was uneventful and I slept most of the way. When we arrived in Darlington at half past seven I got a lift bus home to complete a most enjoyable weekend.