Kickoff: 14:30 Saturday 21 October 2017
Competition: TWR Bi-Folds Wearside Football League
Weather: cold, windy, overcast/drizzly turning to heavy rain
LOCATION REPORT
SatNav: DH6 4JU (NB: no sign from main road and Commercial Road East has no road signs nor on Google Maps!)
Staff: gate + snacks bar
Parking: minimal on site car park, 10+ spaces, but loads on long road outside
Public transport: bus #X12 (Middlesbrough-Durham-Newcastle) on Coxhoe Front Street
More information: club website
Entry: £3 (£1 kids & concessions)
Refreshments: snack bar
Toilets: metal container block
Stands/Terraces: Jon Purves Stand, seating for 60+ plus various ad hoc shelters; a metal lean-on barrier round most of pitch side (behind the western goal end, it's just high netting; so when you walk around that end, the concrete path takes you outside the perimeter)
Programmes: no
Floodlights: no
MATCH REPORT
Approx crowd: 50+ (all ages including kiddies and pushchairs, several dogs)
Full-time [h/t] score (colours):
1 [1] Coxhoe Athletic (red/black)
8 [4] Sunderland West End (yellow/blue, away)
Bookings: 1 each
Sent Off: 0
NORVENMUNKI's COMMENTS
I arrived at Beechfield Park without any drama, because I already knew exactly where it is and followed my own local knowledge. I've been here before, in an aborted Quest of yesteryear, but decided to revisit in order to keep this current Quest consistent.
However, to the newbie it's not that straightforward: if I'd relied on Google Maps, then the postcode still drops you on a spot around the corner... and there's nothing but an "unnamed road" shown on the correct site, but in fact there's a big modern housing estate around here.
Annoyingly, there isn't even an ordinary signpost on the street to point you here either. Without floodlights, the ground is not easy to place from the passing thoroughfares.
Still, when you arrive, the place is pretty big and you wonder how it remains so anonymous on maps and signs!
The neighbouring houses are built such that one could easily watch the matches here from overlooking bedrooms. A visiting wag asks later whether the wind-chill was even worse before they were erected. This prompts an ageing local to explain that the ground has been here throughout his lifetime, sixty years plus, and was the old Steetley FC works' pitch, associated with Steetley Quarry, which was just up the road.
History lesson, according to the club website: "Coxhoe Athletic FC has its origins in the Steetley FC football team. Steetley Limestone Company were a large limestone quarrying company whose headquarters were in Derbyshire but had an operation in Coxhoe. Like all large companies of the era they had a thriving sports and social club of which football played a large part. Steetley had their own football and cricket field and when the company closed its operation in the 1970s Coxhoe Athletic took over the running of the footballing side."
Back to today. There are a couple of dozen cars parked along the road and even on the grass verges. This seems a bit unnecessary, as if the extra few paces was too much for some visitors to bear. As the weather deteriorates, let's hope that they don't get stuck, although the tyres will certainly leave an ungrateful mess on the mowed grass.
Given the size of the crowd, plus players etc, it seems like everyone has come in individual vehicles. It's as busy as one might expect from a full professional league match: once I get in, I realise that's because there is virtually no car parking on site.
I climb the steps to the gate on the 'road side', pay my entry and wander around taking photos. It's a tight ground on this side, but there's a rising bank of grass on the eastern end with random benches and rusting groundsman's equipment.
While it is dry, there's a dad and son having a kickabout on the grass, not really watching any of the game.
In fact, there are lots of ad hoc places to sit in every corner of the site, including four separate roofed seats around the pitch plus odd garden benches etc scattered about! From my visit years ago, I recall a leather sofa had been donated (how very decadent?!) but this is gone now, the remaining frame is just a plain wooden seat now.
There's a cold wind today. The lines of tall trees on the opposite side to the road are waving furiously. The grounds and facilities are haphazard but characterful and well-tended, with sporadic mushrooms in the grass. There are piles of old wet tree trunks in a corner of the grounds. I wonder if they are the same ones that I saw there on my last visit. Probably.
The main structure is the Jon Purves Stand, a covered seating block for about 60+ spectators. It's pretty busy, with about 30 using it today as they shelter from the teaming rain during the second half.
In here, the shouts of the crowd bounce back down from the iron roof. Away fans outnumber locals, especially as the game wears on and the home performance fails to inspire even the most loyal.
The crowd is mostly away fans all over the place actually. As I know from my own previous experience of Sunderland West End, they certainly like their footie in Pennywell.
At last, the game commences. It's 100-mph immediately.
A couple of early West End chances test the home resilience, including a great cross that the striker just can't strain to reach. It's physical and peppered with niggly fouls, as both sides attempt to get the early psychological advantage. A couple of marginal offside calls get the fans screaming at the portly linesman, who has a healthy reserve of counter-banter as any time-served official might.
Up close to me, the West End #11 is already cursing into the face of the Coxhoe defender after just 2 minutes. Get a grip, mate... there's sledging and there's borderline assault!
This all typifies my experience of West End whenever I see them: they play lovely football, but some (not most!) of the players and fans are so easily consumed by the 'red mist'.
As if on cue, a penalty to Coxhoe! Undoubtedly against the run of play, but valid nonetheless. A tackle from behind after a long ball through the Coxhoe midfield split the Sunderland defence. Is the visitors composure already lost?
Spot kick scored. 1-0 Coxhoe.
Sunderland reply instantly. A good cross from the left finds a striker on the D, who rifles in left-footed giving the keeper no chance. We're level and West End's football is doing the talking. Soon after, a corner for the men in yellow today (their alternative strip), whipped right into the danger zone but a glanced header goes wide.
A Coxhoe defender is, unsurprisingly, off the frenetic pace and grabs a Sunderland striker who is going past him. The referee finally gives him a warning, a talking-to only, no card yet but one or more seem inevitable.
All over the place, there are studs being left in on tackles and constant sledging. It's effing effing everywhere.
Next, a long-range bullet from the West End left-back is turned away theatrically by the Coxhoe keeper. Then, the scoreline tips as Sunderland take the lead, 1-2. Nifty interplay results in the striker skipping round the advancing keeper to slot home. The visitors are cranking up the pressure and are definitely in the ascendancy now. We're a quarter of the way through the match, the increasingly fragile Coxhoe defence has a long time to hold out yet.
On 22 minutes, a Sunderland free kick sails over the wall but also the bar.
The wind is fanning the hot tempers, and a Coxhoe midfielder is so incensed as to remonstrate with the referee about fair play. Everyone is getting shouty, on the pitch and bench and stands, for various reasons.
Momentarily, the home team channel the energy into a counter attack down their left, but the striker goes it alone and pulls the shot across the keeper and wide. A rare chance for an equaliser wasted.
Another Sunderland attack follows, as a great volley from the right-hand side cannons back off bar.
Then, on 36 minutes, another West End corner. The ball comes back out to the corner-taker, the volatile #11, who floats a shot in towards the top corner which the goalkeeper expertly palms over. It's short relief though, as the resultant corner from the opposite side is blasted goalwards and bounces in off the underside of the bar. 1-3 now and the lead is fully justified.
Soon after, another penalty, this time to West End. The ball is punted forward to the visitors striker, who goes one-on-one with the home keeper who knocks him over. For a second, the referee leaves an advantage open but then blows for a spot-kick, which is coolly slotted home for 1-4.
It's difficult to imagine what the Coxhoe teamtalk could be during the break. There is already a clear winner in this contest, a turnaround would seem incredible.
I take a rest for a while on one of the pitchside benches, as the skies turn leaden grey and the forecasted rain begins to sprinkle at first.
Then, as the half-time whistle blows, it starts to properly tip it down. I retreat to the protection of the little green corrogated-iron-roofed terrace area. A mum rocks her baby to sleep in a covered pushchair. I bet they are warm and cosy in there.
The scent of someone's hot drink tempts me to consider getting a warm refreshment too.
A groundsman is out with a fork during the interval, replacing a few sods, hopefully the pitch will cope okay with the pouring rain.
I recognise the old West End lady from recent weeks again. I will wander closer to her later to see what kind of vocabulary she has brought with her on this occasion.
A few substitutes and some hardy little kiddies brave the rain for a few kicks on the pitch during the break. The little ones sound like they've swallowed granny's dictionary. Blimey... I'm no prude but 'f##k me these people are sweary'.
The game restarts.
Within a minute, the visitors score again and so whatever the latest Coxhoe gameplan might have been, it has been immediately shredded. The nippy West End striker goes clean through and scores with a cool finish. Sensing understandably that the game is won, this prompts the away bench to make a double substitution.
A change of personnel maybe, but it's same old same old, as another chance falls to West End. Coxhoe aren't doing any better.
Then a third and final substitute comes on for West End, as they just play the game out and take no risks.
Now a West End booking, as their busy midfielder makes a clumsy tackle. For a moment, a rare Coxhoe attack offers them the prospect of some consolation...but it's thwarted, mainly due to a lack of composure in the home forward-line, prompting frustrated shouts of 'Time!' from colleagues and the bench.
There's a long stoppage as the Coxhoe defender goes down and needs treatment, possibly turning his ankle. He'll hobble off, substitute needed.
Soon after, another injury. A high boot from a Sunderland player catches the Coxhoe defender in the ribs. After treatment, he too limps off and no doubt will be bruised tomorrow. As well as the goals-against, Coxhoe will be counting the cost of their injury list too. The mouthy Coxhoe centre-forward is angrily venting at his bench, which is a wise proxy for venting at the referee.
The rain is truly bucketing down now. I take a glance towards the refreshments hut but it's closed now. I never did get that warm drink. Aargh!
Coxhoe get a rare chance down the right wing. A lucky bounce evades the Sunderland defender and the right winger sprints past. His teammate is unmarked in the box, but the winger goes for solo glory and pulls a shot wide. With some justification, the aforementioned vocal centre-forward reprimands him and they share a rally of "f. o." banter.
The c-f appeals to the bench to put the wayward winger right, but everyone has settled for defeat now and there's little appetite for airing grievances in public.
The passionate c-f looks to the sky in frustration, and the drenching rain simply compounds his depression.
A West End midfielder goes down heavily under a challenge but there was no malice. He picks himself up gingerly, and will have to play on as they have no substitutes left.
With one final hurrah, Coxhoe go forward and their front-man produces a bit of clever play on the edge of the area, but, rather than shooting, he dithers and the chance goes begging.
Immediately, as if to rub it in his face, Sunderland go straight down the other end... and score. Six.
We're into the final ten minutes and Coxhoe legs are understandably weary now. Sunderland still have a bit left in the tank, spurred by the added attraction of boosting their goal difference. Ruthlessly, they keep on pushing and, sure enough, soon it's seven! Any Coxhoe resolve has pretty much dissolved.
From the restart, Sunderland pile forward yet again, eliciting a great reaction save from the Coxhoe keeper, who's still doing what little he can to retain his integrity.
His resilience is commendable but insufficient as, in the final few minutes, it's eight!
Final score: 1-8. The lashing of the rain will hopefully wash away any lingering distress for Coxhoe, and they can pull themselves together for the next game.
The visitors trek back to Wearside with three deserved points and a sackful of goals to reflect upon. A fruitful trip indeed.
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