BOSTON UNITED 0 BARROW 0 Northern Premier League Premier Division 20 November 1993 by Michael Gibson
A phone call at work from Jamie at 5.30 on the Friday morning was to confirm the plans for the next day. How inconsiderate of him to wake me up when I was on the night shift! So as planned, twelve Barrow supporters met up at King's Cross for the 11.30am to Grantham. As usual, we were decked out in our Barrow AFC replica shirts, except for John Woods, who was more appropriately dressed for a business meeting than for a football match. The reasons for that will be explained later. At Grantham, we met up with our mate and his two sons from Morecambe, but the real fun started when we arrived in Boston. Although I was the only one there who had been to the ground from the direction of the station before, Jamie decided he knew better. I mean, he was the Travel Secretary of the National Supporters' Club, after all. But then, everybody decided they knew a different route to the ground. Trying to point out the correct route to York Street was about as difficult as a Group 4 security officer taking fourteen long term inmates on a shopping trip. After half an hour of trudging to and fro, we eventually ended up back where we started and I decided to give up and let somebody else direct us to the ground. We called in at a fish and chip shop and after ten minutes of walking even further and further away from the centre of the town we asked for directions to the football ground. What we were told was different from the way I knew, but we decided to take it anyway. At the first set of traffic lights some of us still went the wrong way, though by this time the reason for Woodsy wearing the suit and tie had been revealed - he was going to be doing the commentary for the Soccerline. The match itself was a closely contested affair, with both sides playing well. Barrow were probably the better side in the first half, with Higginbotham the best player on the pitch. A few minutes from half time an Oldroyd shot went inches wide, hitting the back of the terracing right next to where I was standing. Although Boston moved up a gear in the second half, the Barrow defence showed what they are capable of and without a doubt Tony Chilton prevented Boston taking all three points. For about the last twenty minutes of the match the Barrow supporters were in top form with the chant of 'Mick Cloudsdale's Blue And White Army!' ringing all around the ground. A pity Woodsy didn't mention this on his Soccerline report. Our first port of call after the match was of course the pub. For some reason it took about twenty minutes before we all arrived there, though no doubt some stayed in the bar at the ground. Anyway, a few minutes later a female regular arrived at the pub, to be greeted by Jamie singing as loudly as possible. Exit female regular. Seconds later another female regular arrived, again the man was singing as loudly as he can, again it was goodbye regular! Returning to the station was almost as big a fuss as getting to the ground earlier that afternoon. Despite the fact that I had been there before and knew the way back Jamie decided to ask every single passer-by if they knew the way to the station. If he was aiming to insult my intelligence, he was certainly making a good job of it! So we got the train to Grantham, where we had over an hour to wait for the train to London. The nearest boozer was only a five minute walk away, yet that didn't prevent most of the lazy gits from getting a taxi. When it was time to go back for the train, only four of us actually went, the others preferring to stay another hour in the pub. On the train back we came across some Fulham supporters, and remembering their recent Cup exit, immediately Carlo tried to wind them up with chants of 'YEOVIL!', though I tried to persuade him not to, bearing in mind the brick throwing incident at Huish in the Trophy all those years ago. We also met a Welling supporter on his way back from Halifax, the conversation starting something like this... Welling Fan: We're in the Conference, you're not, you're not! Me: Six-one, six-one, six-one, six-one! After this the conversation got a bit more civilised as we discussed the recent ups and downs of our respective clubs. His verdict on Halifax was 'A good side with a crap ground.' On arrival at Peterborough, exit one Welling fan, but enter thirty very noisy Plymouth Argyle supporters accompanied by Plod. But despite the noise there was no trouble between here and London. Issue 019 - April 1994