Kickoff: 14:30 Saturday 21 April 2018
Competition: TWR Wearside League
Weather: sunny, unseasonably warm, clear, dry, very light breeze
LOCATION REPORT
SatNav: use DH9 8HU (ie nearby Coach & Horses pub), just don't use DH9 8QU!
Parking: small car park with c. 20 spaces (plus overflow onto adjoining grass or residential roads)
Public transport: #78 (Consett-Sunderland)
More information: Wikipedia, Facebook
Entry: £2.00
Staff: gate steward + other staff
Refreshments: drinks/snacks in the club building
Toilets: club building
Stands/Terraces: various (small sheltered terrace with seats & concrete steps, stepped open terrace, metal lean-on barrier around pitch)
Programmes: no
Floodlights: none
MATCH REPORT
Approx crowd: c. 33 at kick-off, rising to c. 45
Full-time [h/t] score (colours):
0 [0] Annfield Plain FC (claret/blue)
4 [2] Darlington FC Reserves (purple)
Bookings: 2 (Annfield Plain)
Sent Off: 0
NORVENMUNKI's COMMENTS
High on the ridges of the undulating County Durham landscape, the promise of summer had finally arrived and a mini-heatwave was cracking the flags in Annfield Plain. Everything, as they say, is relative: heatwaves don't customarily hit this part of the world in April and, as the hardy folks around here are more used to snow at this time of year, 24° was almost unbearable. As I drove up the snaking road from Lanchester, the long shadows of the tree-lines to the south were welcomely cooling.
The previous week, I had ventured the furthest from home - across to Cleator Moor - but today's quest was very close by comparison; eight miles rather than one-hundred-and-three. Still, the journey could easily take as long for the uninitiated. Luckily, I have actually been here to Annfield Plain FC years ago, so I know where it is!
I say luckily because you cannot rely on using the postcode DH9 8QU in your satnav, as it takes you up the wrong road. Better to turn left out of Tesco, left again at the roundabout into West Road, then third-left into Cheviot Court and immediately left into what looks like a residential driveway.
Whether through shame or shambles, there are no signs whatsoever for Derwent Park: it's quite literally a hidden gem.
Yet, truly it is a gem. A crumbling relic of yesteryear, rotten and dilapidated, peeling and somewhat precarious. I think it's wonderful!
Today, the cuteness is magnified because the groundsman has apparently locked the keys to the turnstiles in a pitchside ISO storage container. The charming elder gentleman at the gate sees the funny side, happy that this has happened today of all days in such gorgeous weather!
I take a few photos and wander around. I had thought to sit in the main stand, perhaps in the line of fourteen padded office chairs on the top row, enjoying the south-facing vista and the sun on my face. But instead, I plonk myself down on the grassy bank on the opposite side, with the warm sun on my back. My long shadow stretches under the perimeter rail and onto the edge of the pitch.
There's an old crumbling brickwork toilet behind me: perhaps its echoes could tell all kinds of stories from the past decades? The mixture of corrogated and mesh fences around the ground are falling down everywhere. Intriguingly, there's a tree growing in the corner of the spectators area, bursting into spring green shoots.
As the players appear, the ground slowly fills with more spectators, most flaking out on the grass at all sides and a couple perching on the slab wall that separates the internal car park.
Darlo are in their away kit, hoping no doubt for a purple patch at the close of the season. The sky is clear and blue, like some of the coaches' language.
Handshakes etc... the game commences.
The referee is almost immediately the focus of attention. He's not standing for any bad behaviour or talking-back and, in the opening minutes, he stops play twice for a quiet word with various players; restarting with dropballs that break the flow of play (to the chagrin of the Darlington bench, who share a few choice words with the referee's assistant).
It's Darlo who are the early pushers. Annfield Plain are solid in defence, releasing the pressure with punts up front, but for all Darlo's movement it doesn't bring much opportunity.
Then, Plain find their forward motion: first getting caught by a marginal offside and shortly after working into a shooting position but firing straight at the Darlo keeper.
He kicks out casually and it's intercepted by the quick-thinking Plain striker, but his rapid pass eludes his galloping teammate. That goalie error could have been costly.
On thirteen minutes, however, it's the visitors who take the lead. A through ball to their left-sided forward, who - despite a tackle from behind - curls it into the far bottom corner.
Nil-One.
Annfield Plain seek an instant reply. As Darlo defend a long throw-in, a clumsy touch concedes a corner. Another bout of defensive anxiety is relieved and the counterattack is on, but the Darlington striker is clattered by the last man. From the free kick, it works out to the right but the ambitious shot sails over.
Darlo are the ones with more of the clever moves, but Plain are creative too when they get the chance.
A Darlo attack is thwarted by the slick claret defence. A beautiful little drag-back by the Plain centre-back steals the ball from the toes of the marauding forward. It's just the kind of delicious footwork that would have TV pundits salivating but here it goes completely unnoticed, by even the colleague feet away. Still, for the record, I appreciated it, mate!
Soon after, the purple wave crashes in to break the local resilience. A nice passing move leads to a confident ball into the box from the left, which is tapped in at the far post.
Nil-Two.
The Plain defenders are starting to moan at each other: such low spirits this early doesn't auger well. Some cocky shouts from the visitors are unnecessary: they should shut up and talk with their feet.
A home defender goes down, needing treatment. The play stops for a few minutes and everyone sensibly takes on fluids on this warm day. The game resumes and, despite some impromptu fresh tactics-sharing during the interruption, the previous pattern resumes too. In a short spell of dominance, Annfield force a succession of corners but can't make them productive, then a cheeky lob from the burly centre-forward is way off target.
Now, a moment of comedy. A rudimentary back pass is fluffed by the Darlo keeper, then he tries a second swipe as a Plain striker breathes down his neck, fumbling it into touch to concede a throw-in. Plain try to take it quickly and exploit the defensive chaos by powering in a low cross but it rebounds off the shooter's thigh and flies over. The Darlo keeper's blushes are spared, but it's not a great testament to his concentration.
Half time arrives. 0-2 at the break.
I'm comfortable on my little grass bank, and decide to stay put rather than wander over for a seat. I break open a large bottle of water, and glug deeply for refreshment as I feel the sunshine on the back of my neck. A massive bumblebee hovers around, flitting amongst the grass cuttings and dandelions, keeping me company.
During the break, the away substitutes warm up on the pitch: it seems like there are dozens of them - they could probably field an entire reserve squad! The rest of the players disappear into the changing block.
Meanwhile, the home team don't actually go into their changing room at all, but instead stay out on the side of the pitch, clustering around the bench, getting a tactical briefing. From my vantage point nestled nearby in the grass, I can hear everything that's said. Rightly, the Annfield Plain coach identifies the weakness of the opposition goalkeeper and encourages his forward players to put him under pressure.
There's lots of water distributed, and no doubt it's much needed: it's going to be harder to stay focused and mobile on the pitch as the afternoon wears on.
The teams are back and ready. A mighty belch from the home bench shatters the relative quiet. Charming! The game restarts.
Bouyed by the encouragement of their coach, the early initiative comes from Plain, albeit without conclusive end-product. Yet Darlington are always a threat, and work it forward themselves. It's an even display and there's lots of positive talking from both sides.
As the visitors foray forward, a scare for the home side as a snap shot from Darlington clangs off the foot of the Plain post and is hurried away. It soon comes back, and the jittery home side concede a corner. As it happens, Darlo can't capitalise but the momentum is building.
We have yet another interruption as a home midfielder goes down. I must say that the pitch is a bit bobbly in places, and I don't know if that contributes to people turning their ankles and such. This time, the poor fella is helped off limping and straight down the tunnel. It doesn't look good.
The hour mark passes, and Darlington extend their lead. A corner swings in from the left. The Plain keeper screams for it, but he fumbles the catch and the ball skids in through a mêlée of legs. Nil-Three.
Almost immediately, it could have been four, but a point-blank save from the Plain keeper keeps it out: credit where it's due, that was a great stop!
Meanwhile, the home coach emerges from the changing room to brief the bench on the injured player from earlier. It seems the prognosis is not good, ligament damage is suspected; a Saturday evening trip to the hospital, no doubt?
Back on the pitch, Darlo bomb forward again. Cutting inside from the right, the striker's initial shot is parried by the brave keeper but the rebound is tapped in from close range.
Nil-Four.
In utter dejection, the Annfield Plain defenders appeal to the referee's assistant for offside, but it's a fruitless complaint.
Another Darlington attack down the right culminates in a low cross that the box-hanging striker tries to spectacularly volley towards the goal, but his contact is not ideal and the Plain defence breathe easier as danger is averted.
Into the final ten minutes, and the hosts find some meaningful forward motion - yet, as they commendably commit men forward for a consolation, they are obviously leaving themselves vulnerable to a counter-attack.
Sure enough, as their attack is thwarted, a long clearance finds the lone Darlo striker. He sprints ahead of the last defender, who clatters his heels accidentally. The Darlo player tries to stay upright - and the referee initially plays advantage - but, after a few seconds, he blows for a free kick. His assistant calls him over to explain the situation and identify the player concerned.
As the home bench are loudly opining how "he can't send him off for that!", the referee calls the boy over and reaches for his pocket and he takes the player's name. The defender is anxious... but it's just a yellow. Common sense prevails. The Plain bench clap the referee in approval and, for once, the Darlington bench are uncharacteristically silent.
The referee indicates to the linesman that he's adding three extra minutes due to the various stoppages and the fact that all substitutes have been used.
A late goal back for the home side would possibly be fair, but their chance goes begging as the burly striker tumbles into the diving Darlo goalkeeper and squanders the halfest of chances. The final act of any note is a clumsy tackle and another Plain booking in the very dying seconds.
Final whistle: 0-4.
The sun disappears behind a cloud and I watch the home assistant coach and his teenage son try to carry two sets of temporary seating from the dugout to the storage container. At this level, it's everyone mucking in to do their bit. I suppose it gives him a few extra minutes to gather some words for the tired players, who have certainly given their all in the sapping spring sun.
As for the purple goal machine, Darlington will drive back south into the late afternoon sunshine with an extra three points in their travel bag.
The previous week, I had ventured the furthest from home - across to Cleator Moor - but today's quest was very close by comparison; eight miles rather than one-hundred-and-three. Still, the journey could easily take as long for the uninitiated. Luckily, I have actually been here to Annfield Plain FC years ago, so I know where it is!
I say luckily because you cannot rely on using the postcode DH9 8QU in your satnav, as it takes you up the wrong road. Better to turn left out of Tesco, left again at the roundabout into West Road, then third-left into Cheviot Court and immediately left into what looks like a residential driveway.
Whether through shame or shambles, there are no signs whatsoever for Derwent Park: it's quite literally a hidden gem.
Yet, truly it is a gem. A crumbling relic of yesteryear, rotten and dilapidated, peeling and somewhat precarious. I think it's wonderful!
Today, the cuteness is magnified because the groundsman has apparently locked the keys to the turnstiles in a pitchside ISO storage container. The charming elder gentleman at the gate sees the funny side, happy that this has happened today of all days in such gorgeous weather!
I take a few photos and wander around. I had thought to sit in the main stand, perhaps in the line of fourteen padded office chairs on the top row, enjoying the south-facing vista and the sun on my face. But instead, I plonk myself down on the grassy bank on the opposite side, with the warm sun on my back. My long shadow stretches under the perimeter rail and onto the edge of the pitch.
There's an old crumbling brickwork toilet behind me: perhaps its echoes could tell all kinds of stories from the past decades? The mixture of corrogated and mesh fences around the ground are falling down everywhere. Intriguingly, there's a tree growing in the corner of the spectators area, bursting into spring green shoots.
As the players appear, the ground slowly fills with more spectators, most flaking out on the grass at all sides and a couple perching on the slab wall that separates the internal car park.
Darlo are in their away kit, hoping no doubt for a purple patch at the close of the season. The sky is clear and blue, like some of the coaches' language.
Handshakes etc... the game commences.
The referee is almost immediately the focus of attention. He's not standing for any bad behaviour or talking-back and, in the opening minutes, he stops play twice for a quiet word with various players; restarting with dropballs that break the flow of play (to the chagrin of the Darlington bench, who share a few choice words with the referee's assistant).
It's Darlo who are the early pushers. Annfield Plain are solid in defence, releasing the pressure with punts up front, but for all Darlo's movement it doesn't bring much opportunity.
Then, Plain find their forward motion: first getting caught by a marginal offside and shortly after working into a shooting position but firing straight at the Darlo keeper.
He kicks out casually and it's intercepted by the quick-thinking Plain striker, but his rapid pass eludes his galloping teammate. That goalie error could have been costly.
On thirteen minutes, however, it's the visitors who take the lead. A through ball to their left-sided forward, who - despite a tackle from behind - curls it into the far bottom corner.
Nil-One.
Annfield Plain seek an instant reply. As Darlo defend a long throw-in, a clumsy touch concedes a corner. Another bout of defensive anxiety is relieved and the counterattack is on, but the Darlington striker is clattered by the last man. From the free kick, it works out to the right but the ambitious shot sails over.
Darlo are the ones with more of the clever moves, but Plain are creative too when they get the chance.
A Darlo attack is thwarted by the slick claret defence. A beautiful little drag-back by the Plain centre-back steals the ball from the toes of the marauding forward. It's just the kind of delicious footwork that would have TV pundits salivating but here it goes completely unnoticed, by even the colleague feet away. Still, for the record, I appreciated it, mate!
Soon after, the purple wave crashes in to break the local resilience. A nice passing move leads to a confident ball into the box from the left, which is tapped in at the far post.
Nil-Two.
The Plain defenders are starting to moan at each other: such low spirits this early doesn't auger well. Some cocky shouts from the visitors are unnecessary: they should shut up and talk with their feet.
A home defender goes down, needing treatment. The play stops for a few minutes and everyone sensibly takes on fluids on this warm day. The game resumes and, despite some impromptu fresh tactics-sharing during the interruption, the previous pattern resumes too. In a short spell of dominance, Annfield force a succession of corners but can't make them productive, then a cheeky lob from the burly centre-forward is way off target.
Now, a moment of comedy. A rudimentary back pass is fluffed by the Darlo keeper, then he tries a second swipe as a Plain striker breathes down his neck, fumbling it into touch to concede a throw-in. Plain try to take it quickly and exploit the defensive chaos by powering in a low cross but it rebounds off the shooter's thigh and flies over. The Darlo keeper's blushes are spared, but it's not a great testament to his concentration.
Half time arrives. 0-2 at the break.
I'm comfortable on my little grass bank, and decide to stay put rather than wander over for a seat. I break open a large bottle of water, and glug deeply for refreshment as I feel the sunshine on the back of my neck. A massive bumblebee hovers around, flitting amongst the grass cuttings and dandelions, keeping me company.
During the break, the away substitutes warm up on the pitch: it seems like there are dozens of them - they could probably field an entire reserve squad! The rest of the players disappear into the changing block.
Meanwhile, the home team don't actually go into their changing room at all, but instead stay out on the side of the pitch, clustering around the bench, getting a tactical briefing. From my vantage point nestled nearby in the grass, I can hear everything that's said. Rightly, the Annfield Plain coach identifies the weakness of the opposition goalkeeper and encourages his forward players to put him under pressure.
There's lots of water distributed, and no doubt it's much needed: it's going to be harder to stay focused and mobile on the pitch as the afternoon wears on.
The teams are back and ready. A mighty belch from the home bench shatters the relative quiet. Charming! The game restarts.
Bouyed by the encouragement of their coach, the early initiative comes from Plain, albeit without conclusive end-product. Yet Darlington are always a threat, and work it forward themselves. It's an even display and there's lots of positive talking from both sides.
As the visitors foray forward, a scare for the home side as a snap shot from Darlington clangs off the foot of the Plain post and is hurried away. It soon comes back, and the jittery home side concede a corner. As it happens, Darlo can't capitalise but the momentum is building.
We have yet another interruption as a home midfielder goes down. I must say that the pitch is a bit bobbly in places, and I don't know if that contributes to people turning their ankles and such. This time, the poor fella is helped off limping and straight down the tunnel. It doesn't look good.
The hour mark passes, and Darlington extend their lead. A corner swings in from the left. The Plain keeper screams for it, but he fumbles the catch and the ball skids in through a mêlée of legs. Nil-Three.
Almost immediately, it could have been four, but a point-blank save from the Plain keeper keeps it out: credit where it's due, that was a great stop!
Meanwhile, the home coach emerges from the changing room to brief the bench on the injured player from earlier. It seems the prognosis is not good, ligament damage is suspected; a Saturday evening trip to the hospital, no doubt?
Back on the pitch, Darlo bomb forward again. Cutting inside from the right, the striker's initial shot is parried by the brave keeper but the rebound is tapped in from close range.
Nil-Four.
In utter dejection, the Annfield Plain defenders appeal to the referee's assistant for offside, but it's a fruitless complaint.
Another Darlington attack down the right culminates in a low cross that the box-hanging striker tries to spectacularly volley towards the goal, but his contact is not ideal and the Plain defence breathe easier as danger is averted.
Into the final ten minutes, and the hosts find some meaningful forward motion - yet, as they commendably commit men forward for a consolation, they are obviously leaving themselves vulnerable to a counter-attack.
Sure enough, as their attack is thwarted, a long clearance finds the lone Darlo striker. He sprints ahead of the last defender, who clatters his heels accidentally. The Darlo player tries to stay upright - and the referee initially plays advantage - but, after a few seconds, he blows for a free kick. His assistant calls him over to explain the situation and identify the player concerned.
As the home bench are loudly opining how "he can't send him off for that!", the referee calls the boy over and reaches for his pocket and he takes the player's name. The defender is anxious... but it's just a yellow. Common sense prevails. The Plain bench clap the referee in approval and, for once, the Darlington bench are uncharacteristically silent.
The referee indicates to the linesman that he's adding three extra minutes due to the various stoppages and the fact that all substitutes have been used.
A late goal back for the home side would possibly be fair, but their chance goes begging as the burly striker tumbles into the diving Darlo goalkeeper and squanders the halfest of chances. The final act of any note is a clumsy tackle and another Plain booking in the very dying seconds.
Final whistle: 0-4.
The sun disappears behind a cloud and I watch the home assistant coach and his teenage son try to carry two sets of temporary seating from the dugout to the storage container. At this level, it's everyone mucking in to do their bit. I suppose it gives him a few extra minutes to gather some words for the tired players, who have certainly given their all in the sapping spring sun.
As for the purple goal machine, Darlington will drive back south into the late afternoon sunshine with an extra three points in their travel bag.
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