Lord Bracknell
On fire
From the Chicago Sports Weekly
http://www.csweekly.com/weeklyColumns/article/id/96
Dripping Pan Rising
By Thomas Dunmore
At the heart of English soccer comes a peculiar crossroads.
The Dripping Pan: no-one seems to know quite why, but that’s the name of Lewes Football Club’s historic stadium and it sure beats the likes of Arsenal’s gleaming new Emirates Stadium (sponsored by an Arabian airline) for evoking the curious and archaic history of British soccer.
Last Saturday, in search of soccer during the MLS off-season, I headed to Lewes in southern England to check on the beating heart of English footballing culture, which has always resided well below the stratosphere occupied by Arsenal in the Premier League and much closer to the likes of Lewes, five tiers lower in the English football pyramid.
In no other country than England has football always been so locally defined, so rooted to the communities that gave birth to the world’s game in pubs and churches in the nineteenth century. It was in a local pub in Lewes that, back in 1885, perhaps a dozen men got together for a drink and decided to found a football team that still exists today, despite never having even stared national success in the face since then.
Tucked picturesquely amidst the green hills of Sussex’s South Downs, Lewes is an ancient town with a population of just 16,000 crowded onto narrow streets dotted with pubs served by the local award-winning real ale brewery, Harvey’s. It’s bisected by the river Ouse and the Greenwich Meridian (the line where longitude measures 0), lying close to the English Channel and overshadowed by the nearby city of Brighton, home to Sussex’s only Football League team.
Lewes F.C. is steeped in this local history, nicknamed the “Rooks” for the castle that can be seen from the ground along with the chalky white cliffs of the Downs. The bar in the Dripping Pan is stocked with Harvey’s beer, which had run out by half-time as fans filled their cups and took them out onto the terraces, where standing and drinking is allowed all game. At nearby Brighton, Football League regulations mean that neither beer nor standing is allowed at all in their Withdean Stadium. There, ticket prices are more than double the Dripping Pan rates, but it’s rare for the quality of the football to be much better than that displayed by Lewes on Saturday.
Despite the seemingly low level (think low Single-A baseball), Lewes’ penetrating football was impressive as they cruised to a 4-0 lead over Havant and Waterlooville F.C. as they look to ascend to the top of the Conference National. From there, they’d be just one promotion away from joining the vaunted ranks of the Football League for the first time in their history.
But like much of England in general, such prospective change means that Lewes F.C. stands at a precarious point between heritage and modernity. The 3,000 capacity Dripping Pan reflects this: many locals want to preserve the old flint walls lining the grassy bank on one side of the stadium, while the recently built and impressive covered stands on two sides reveal Lewes as an upwardly mobile club, recently flush with investment.
Lewes, in all their long history, have never climbed higher in the sturdy pyramid structure that has defined British football for decades than where they stood on Saturday. Remember that unlike in American sports, teams below the top flight of football are all resolutely independent and can aspire to rise via promotion to the very top of the pyramid (the Premier League). Consider that in a matter of years, the Kane County Cougars could aspire to rise to play the White Sox, and the Royals could tumble into the realm of Double-A. Wimbledon, for example, rose from a similar position that Lewes sit in today to the top flight between 1979 and 1986, ultimately upsetting Liverpool in the 1988 F.A. Cup final.
But if Lewes want to make it to the Football League, their ground will need further modernization to generate enough income from larger crowds and to meet minimum league requirements. Ultimately that might sound the death knell for fans standing on the terraces drinking a beer and for tickets cheap enough to bring the kids along too.
Such thoughts were far from the minds of most on Saturday, as the chants of “We are top of the league, say we are top of the league!” filled the Dripping Pan, a jovial and friendly atmosphere dominating.
As the full-time whistle went, children ran around gleefully and old-timers who had been coming for decades smiled contentedly. The cool evening air rolled in from the surrounding hills and onto the floodlit pitch, which curves up naturally in the corner, rolling up into the grassy bank.
It was hard not to feel a moment’s sadness, though, thinking that if Lewes move up much further in the pyramid the pitch will be flattened, the local beer will be taken away, and larger stands will rise on the grassy banks and occlude the view of the chalky cliff.
With progress comes plastic, and the danger of dislocating football from its local, historic roots.
http://www.csweekly.com/weeklyColumns/article/id/96
Dripping Pan Rising
By Thomas Dunmore
At the heart of English soccer comes a peculiar crossroads.
The Dripping Pan: no-one seems to know quite why, but that’s the name of Lewes Football Club’s historic stadium and it sure beats the likes of Arsenal’s gleaming new Emirates Stadium (sponsored by an Arabian airline) for evoking the curious and archaic history of British soccer.
Last Saturday, in search of soccer during the MLS off-season, I headed to Lewes in southern England to check on the beating heart of English footballing culture, which has always resided well below the stratosphere occupied by Arsenal in the Premier League and much closer to the likes of Lewes, five tiers lower in the English football pyramid.
In no other country than England has football always been so locally defined, so rooted to the communities that gave birth to the world’s game in pubs and churches in the nineteenth century. It was in a local pub in Lewes that, back in 1885, perhaps a dozen men got together for a drink and decided to found a football team that still exists today, despite never having even stared national success in the face since then.
Tucked picturesquely amidst the green hills of Sussex’s South Downs, Lewes is an ancient town with a population of just 16,000 crowded onto narrow streets dotted with pubs served by the local award-winning real ale brewery, Harvey’s. It’s bisected by the river Ouse and the Greenwich Meridian (the line where longitude measures 0), lying close to the English Channel and overshadowed by the nearby city of Brighton, home to Sussex’s only Football League team.
Lewes F.C. is steeped in this local history, nicknamed the “Rooks” for the castle that can be seen from the ground along with the chalky white cliffs of the Downs. The bar in the Dripping Pan is stocked with Harvey’s beer, which had run out by half-time as fans filled their cups and took them out onto the terraces, where standing and drinking is allowed all game. At nearby Brighton, Football League regulations mean that neither beer nor standing is allowed at all in their Withdean Stadium. There, ticket prices are more than double the Dripping Pan rates, but it’s rare for the quality of the football to be much better than that displayed by Lewes on Saturday.
Despite the seemingly low level (think low Single-A baseball), Lewes’ penetrating football was impressive as they cruised to a 4-0 lead over Havant and Waterlooville F.C. as they look to ascend to the top of the Conference National. From there, they’d be just one promotion away from joining the vaunted ranks of the Football League for the first time in their history.
But like much of England in general, such prospective change means that Lewes F.C. stands at a precarious point between heritage and modernity. The 3,000 capacity Dripping Pan reflects this: many locals want to preserve the old flint walls lining the grassy bank on one side of the stadium, while the recently built and impressive covered stands on two sides reveal Lewes as an upwardly mobile club, recently flush with investment.
Lewes, in all their long history, have never climbed higher in the sturdy pyramid structure that has defined British football for decades than where they stood on Saturday. Remember that unlike in American sports, teams below the top flight of football are all resolutely independent and can aspire to rise via promotion to the very top of the pyramid (the Premier League). Consider that in a matter of years, the Kane County Cougars could aspire to rise to play the White Sox, and the Royals could tumble into the realm of Double-A. Wimbledon, for example, rose from a similar position that Lewes sit in today to the top flight between 1979 and 1986, ultimately upsetting Liverpool in the 1988 F.A. Cup final.
But if Lewes want to make it to the Football League, their ground will need further modernization to generate enough income from larger crowds and to meet minimum league requirements. Ultimately that might sound the death knell for fans standing on the terraces drinking a beer and for tickets cheap enough to bring the kids along too.
Such thoughts were far from the minds of most on Saturday, as the chants of “We are top of the league, say we are top of the league!” filled the Dripping Pan, a jovial and friendly atmosphere dominating.
As the full-time whistle went, children ran around gleefully and old-timers who had been coming for decades smiled contentedly. The cool evening air rolled in from the surrounding hills and onto the floodlit pitch, which curves up naturally in the corner, rolling up into the grassy bank.
It was hard not to feel a moment’s sadness, though, thinking that if Lewes move up much further in the pyramid the pitch will be flattened, the local beer will be taken away, and larger stands will rise on the grassy banks and occlude the view of the chalky cliff.
With progress comes plastic, and the danger of dislocating football from its local, historic roots.
