Got something to say or just want fewer pesky ads? Join us... 😊
the man with no shoes should weep for the man with no feet
- Thread starter Jamon Jamon
- Start date
thedonkeycentrehalf
Moved back to wear the gloves (again)
- Jul 7, 2003
- 9,345
I was just about to post the same thing having been sent it by a Lewes fan. Very moving piece about the club he loves that most of us can relate to. To save others from following the link here it is in full:
There are so many reasons why Saturday 21st February 2009 will stick around a long time in my memory.
A beautiful clear blue sky, a mild change of the weather where spring could be smelt in the nostrils and the sun on your back made you wonder just for a moment if that extra layer of clothes, worn most of the year to counter that Dorset wind, were really going to be needed.
The football ground on the edge of town looked the same. A relic of its time, unsympathetic and deteriorating but nonetheless an arena for triumphs and tears, of championship parades and many, many ruined weekends. Inside, familiar faces of the faithful, some not seen for some time, had all come to this place. They had come wearing their colours, with flags, balloons, voices and an inflatable dolphin. I bought a hot tea and it tasted like it always did.
But this was not a day for the ordinary. Slashed admission prices signified a turn for the worse at this, our beloved Weymouth Football Club. Mid-table in the Blue Square Premier, the best team of footballers most of us had seen pull on the shirt had not been paid for almost two months and had already given notice to find new employment. On Saturday, with their medical insurance expired due to the dire financial situation at the club, they didn’t take to the pitch. No-one blamed them. They were committed and proud players. The day after they put in their notice, they beat Torquay United 2-0 away from home.
And so it was that a few minutes shy of 3 o’clock on Saturday afternoon, that most traditional of football times before television changed everything, a team comprised almost completely of youth players stepped up to take their seniors’ places. There were surely nerves, but they battled not to show it. On the terraces, the 900-odd faithful knew a heavy defeat was certain, that it was a case of limiting the damage.
Rushden & Diamonds FC, who by the luck of the draw happened to be the visitors that day, looked like monsters. It was they who had to deliver the slaughter. Some fans chose to exploit the ignorance of the bookies whose knowledge rarely ventured this far down football’s pyramid. They had placed substantial bets on their team to lose, pledging the winnings to their club’s fighting fund.
Within 10 minutes, Rushden had taken a two goal advantage and any faint hopes that maybe we could see a miracle had long been eclipsed. With every passing goal against, there were cries from the fans behind the goal: “Keep it going lads!” “Come on you Terras!” “I’m Weymouth till I die…” It was going to be a slow and very painful death.
The score ceased to matter. Something more important was happening: from our youngsters, the occasional passing move or brave run was applauded and tackles were cheered. And if an occasional tackle wasn’t as well timed as it was intentioned, the assailed would pick himself up and give a slap of encouragement to his assailant, while the referee didn’t take his cards out of his pocket for 90 minutes. Each scramble and save was hailed with delirium. While Petr Cech had four shots on target to contend with that afternoon in the Chelsea goal, debutant Weymouth keeper Joe Prodomo had sixteen. But no-one was asking how the big game at Villa Park was going. And no-one dissented when the announcement of Prodomo’s man of the match award came over the public address.
Rushden spared us a goal tally in double figures. The young combatants had only conceded nine when the final whistle came. But where thoughts usually turned to that night’s tea or trying to avoid the car park queue, the fans refused to go home. With applause ringing around the ground from opposition fans and players as well as the home support, the young players – with chins up and chests out – raised their hands aloft and applauded back. There were tears in eyes and pride in hearts and we remembered what it felt to belong.
This was beyond the politics, beyond the squabbles over who owned what, beyond the egos and personal agendas, beyond the previous chairmen and future owners, beyond who was to blame. We were there in the moment, with a community football club that we loved, with young local players who had given their all for the shirt, with fans who understood that and who knew that sometimes football is about more than just a result.
As we left that same unsympathetic and deteriorating stadium that afternoon, we felt real fear that we may have been doing it for the last time. For us, there is no golden ticket of Sky Money. It is an irrelevance to us. Victims of financial mismanagement, the faithful young and old have pledged money and practical deeds in an effort to save the club. We have come to understand that there isn’t always a white knight to come to the rescue. We have no international stars to sell, no gravy train from which to profit. We are the princess in the tower but the prince is nowhere to be seen. Maybe we don’t look as beautiful as we once did.
After the game, the messages of support came. From Oxford, Wrexham, Bournemouth, Southampton, Exeter, Cambridge, Hereford, Southend, Halifax, Barrow, Notts County, Barnet, Swindon, Bristol City, Kettering, Didcot, Yeovil. They all understood. Many of them had been through dark days themselves and come through in one way or another. York City fans put on a bus to make it easier for our fans to make the big round trip the following week.
There is still a football family. It is alive in non-league and it is alive in the lower divisions. It is still the people’s game. It still thrives despite obscene amounts of money ending up in fewer and fewer hands, despite the ignorance of overpaid pundits on live television who celebrate each passing goal in a men-against-boys rout like despotic Roman Emperors at the Colosseum.
There does not need to be humiliation in losing at home by the odd goal in nine. You can still find pure human qualities of dignity, respect and belonging, the quality of people giving their all, to the absolute maximum of their ability, with honesty and pride of the best kind. Football isn’t about who can be the most successful, it’s still about the blood that runs through your veins.
If you can’t hear us, we’ll have another lager…
Up the Terras.
There are so many reasons why Saturday 21st February 2009 will stick around a long time in my memory.
A beautiful clear blue sky, a mild change of the weather where spring could be smelt in the nostrils and the sun on your back made you wonder just for a moment if that extra layer of clothes, worn most of the year to counter that Dorset wind, were really going to be needed.
The football ground on the edge of town looked the same. A relic of its time, unsympathetic and deteriorating but nonetheless an arena for triumphs and tears, of championship parades and many, many ruined weekends. Inside, familiar faces of the faithful, some not seen for some time, had all come to this place. They had come wearing their colours, with flags, balloons, voices and an inflatable dolphin. I bought a hot tea and it tasted like it always did.
But this was not a day for the ordinary. Slashed admission prices signified a turn for the worse at this, our beloved Weymouth Football Club. Mid-table in the Blue Square Premier, the best team of footballers most of us had seen pull on the shirt had not been paid for almost two months and had already given notice to find new employment. On Saturday, with their medical insurance expired due to the dire financial situation at the club, they didn’t take to the pitch. No-one blamed them. They were committed and proud players. The day after they put in their notice, they beat Torquay United 2-0 away from home.
And so it was that a few minutes shy of 3 o’clock on Saturday afternoon, that most traditional of football times before television changed everything, a team comprised almost completely of youth players stepped up to take their seniors’ places. There were surely nerves, but they battled not to show it. On the terraces, the 900-odd faithful knew a heavy defeat was certain, that it was a case of limiting the damage.
Rushden & Diamonds FC, who by the luck of the draw happened to be the visitors that day, looked like monsters. It was they who had to deliver the slaughter. Some fans chose to exploit the ignorance of the bookies whose knowledge rarely ventured this far down football’s pyramid. They had placed substantial bets on their team to lose, pledging the winnings to their club’s fighting fund.
Within 10 minutes, Rushden had taken a two goal advantage and any faint hopes that maybe we could see a miracle had long been eclipsed. With every passing goal against, there were cries from the fans behind the goal: “Keep it going lads!” “Come on you Terras!” “I’m Weymouth till I die…” It was going to be a slow and very painful death.
The score ceased to matter. Something more important was happening: from our youngsters, the occasional passing move or brave run was applauded and tackles were cheered. And if an occasional tackle wasn’t as well timed as it was intentioned, the assailed would pick himself up and give a slap of encouragement to his assailant, while the referee didn’t take his cards out of his pocket for 90 minutes. Each scramble and save was hailed with delirium. While Petr Cech had four shots on target to contend with that afternoon in the Chelsea goal, debutant Weymouth keeper Joe Prodomo had sixteen. But no-one was asking how the big game at Villa Park was going. And no-one dissented when the announcement of Prodomo’s man of the match award came over the public address.
Rushden spared us a goal tally in double figures. The young combatants had only conceded nine when the final whistle came. But where thoughts usually turned to that night’s tea or trying to avoid the car park queue, the fans refused to go home. With applause ringing around the ground from opposition fans and players as well as the home support, the young players – with chins up and chests out – raised their hands aloft and applauded back. There were tears in eyes and pride in hearts and we remembered what it felt to belong.
This was beyond the politics, beyond the squabbles over who owned what, beyond the egos and personal agendas, beyond the previous chairmen and future owners, beyond who was to blame. We were there in the moment, with a community football club that we loved, with young local players who had given their all for the shirt, with fans who understood that and who knew that sometimes football is about more than just a result.
As we left that same unsympathetic and deteriorating stadium that afternoon, we felt real fear that we may have been doing it for the last time. For us, there is no golden ticket of Sky Money. It is an irrelevance to us. Victims of financial mismanagement, the faithful young and old have pledged money and practical deeds in an effort to save the club. We have come to understand that there isn’t always a white knight to come to the rescue. We have no international stars to sell, no gravy train from which to profit. We are the princess in the tower but the prince is nowhere to be seen. Maybe we don’t look as beautiful as we once did.
After the game, the messages of support came. From Oxford, Wrexham, Bournemouth, Southampton, Exeter, Cambridge, Hereford, Southend, Halifax, Barrow, Notts County, Barnet, Swindon, Bristol City, Kettering, Didcot, Yeovil. They all understood. Many of them had been through dark days themselves and come through in one way or another. York City fans put on a bus to make it easier for our fans to make the big round trip the following week.
There is still a football family. It is alive in non-league and it is alive in the lower divisions. It is still the people’s game. It still thrives despite obscene amounts of money ending up in fewer and fewer hands, despite the ignorance of overpaid pundits on live television who celebrate each passing goal in a men-against-boys rout like despotic Roman Emperors at the Colosseum.
There does not need to be humiliation in losing at home by the odd goal in nine. You can still find pure human qualities of dignity, respect and belonging, the quality of people giving their all, to the absolute maximum of their ability, with honesty and pride of the best kind. Football isn’t about who can be the most successful, it’s still about the blood that runs through your veins.
If you can’t hear us, we’ll have another lager…
Up the Terras.
severnside gull
Well-known member
wow
B-Rad
New member
Barrel of Fun
Abort, retry, fail
Evocative reading.
Without wishing to turn it into a 'them against us' thread.
Compare that to the statement from Louise Charlton of the Chelsea Supporters Group...
Louise Charlton, of the Chelsea Supporters Group, said she was not surprised by Scolari's departure.
'I am half upset because he seems like a nice bloke but the performances have been the worst we have seen for a couple of years,' she added. 'Something had to be done.'
Without wishing to turn it into a 'them against us' thread.
Compare that to the statement from Louise Charlton of the Chelsea Supporters Group...
Louise Charlton, of the Chelsea Supporters Group, said she was not surprised by Scolari's departure.
'I am half upset because he seems like a nice bloke but the performances have been the worst we have seen for a couple of years,' she added. 'Something had to be done.'
Wardy
NSC's Benefits Guru
Football is a cruel past time at times.
Spider
New member
- Sep 15, 2007
- 3,614
That is an amazing piece of writing - sure I'm not the only one who had a tingle in their spine. Really hope Weymouth pull through this crisis - if only the idiots who never look below the Premiership understood the fact that football exists below the top end, and has 10 times the passion and committment.
Djmiles
Barndoor Holroyd
Best few minutes reading I've spent in years. An excellently written piece, well done that man.
Djmiles
Barndoor Holroyd
Pixel Advertising - Save Our Club - Weymouth FC
Would there be a possibility of NSC coughing up some money to donate? With some of the funds we currently have in the account? Just a thought.
Would there be a possibility of NSC coughing up some money to donate? With some of the funds we currently have in the account? Just a thought.
Last edited:
Southwick_Seagull
Well-known member
- Oct 8, 2008
- 2,035
What a fantastic piece of writing, well said that man
Tom Hark Preston Park
Will Post For Cash
- Jul 6, 2003
- 72,348
Um, let's just hang ON here a minute. Isn't that the same small and noble band of Weymouth brothers that just stung the bookies for a MILLION QUID?
Djmiles
Barndoor Holroyd
Sounds good. I'm not working but could spare a few quid if we decided to do it. Anything to make the Albion crest that bit bigger!
Spider
New member
- Sep 15, 2007
- 3,614
Um, let's just hang ON here a minute. Isn't that the same small and noble band of Weymouth brothers that just stung the bookies for a MILLION QUID?
Go to the Weymouth FC official website and read the truth of that story - the club aren't happy about the way their fans have been portrayed.
Tom Hark Preston Park
Will Post For Cash
- Jul 6, 2003
- 72,348
I very much doubt the truth of the betting coup is to be found on, or around, or anywhere near the Weymouth FC official website
Djmiles
Barndoor Holroyd
Um, let's just hang ON here a minute. Isn't that the same small and noble band of Weymouth brothers that just stung the bookies for a MILLION QUID?
Assuming Rushden were say 2/1, that would require £500,000 of bets to be placed.
That's £517 for each and every person at that stadium on Saturday. Hardly sounds realistic for a small non-league side personally.
Spider
New member
- Sep 15, 2007
- 3,614
I very much doubt the truth of the betting coup is to be found on, or around, or anywhere near the Weymouth FC official website
Fair point. Equally it's a bit stupid to deny sympathy for the club because of one betting coup.
Weymouth fans are not pleased as punch
Any outsider visiting this website or reading any online newspaper might be under the impression that we - the Weymouth fans - happily filled our boots with hundreds of thousands of pounds on the back of the club's financial plight.
This is NOT TRUE.
ITV News, Channel 4, Daily Mail, others - we are looking at YOU.
Of course, the press might have found one or two locals who did well out of the misfortune of unobservant bookmakers, but even a cursory glance at any betting forum showed that there was a rush to get on this particular bet last Friday irrespective of which team they supported or where they lived.
The untruths surrounding this story - while bringing us publicity at a time we need it most - seriously undermines any action Weymouth fans are trying to do in order to save our precious local club.