Venue: Welfare Park, Memorial Avenue, Easington, County Durham, SR8 3PL
Kickoff: 3pm Saturday 8 September 2018
Competition: Ebac Northern League Division Two
Weather: constant rain, occasionally heavy, light breeze
LOCATION REPORT
SatNav: SR8 3PL
Parking: in town (5 mins walk), none on site
Public transport: #23 bus to Sunderland, along Seaside Lane (B1283)
Club information: Club website
Entry: £5 (£3 concession)
Refreshments/Facilities: licensed clubhouse bar incl toilets, hot food snack bar
Example: pie+peas £2, coffee/tea £1
Programmes: free
Stands/Terraces: Covered main stand with seats and covered standing; 3 x open terraces/banked stepped standing; lean-on barriers all round
Floodlights: 8 (4 per flank)
MATCH REPORTS
Official League report: http://www.northernfootballleague.org/event/4011
Visitors viewpoint
Official crowd: 87
Full-time [h/t] score (colours):
1 [1] Easington Colliery (green)
2 [0] Washington (red)
Bookings: 0
Sent Off: 0
1 [1] Easington Colliery (green)
2 [0] Washington (red)
Bookings: 0
Sent Off: 0
NORVENMUNKI's COMMENTS
The Durham coast is a beautiful stretch of long beaches and rugged cliffs. Despite being slightly inland, the elevated position of Easington Colliery gives it a lovely seaside perspective, with great coastal walks and stunning view points. Today, the terraces of mining villages are soaked in a gloomy drizzle, with the prospect of a thunderous downpour never far away.
On arrival, the streets are already busy and I park on a nearby road leading to a housing estate. The venue is set on the edge of town centre and accessed through Welfare Park. I walk past bollards and under the canopy of the mighty trees, past the kids playground. There are lots of kids around, it's traffic free and there are multiple play areas hereabouts: great place for the little ones to run off some pent-up energy. Next door, the cricket club is quiet.
It's an impressive location here, atop the brow of a hill with a fabulous view of the sea: albeit today, it's pretty grey under the rainclouds.
Looking South along the coast, you can see the sands and Hartlepool in the distance.
Looking South along the coast, you can see the sands and Hartlepool in the distance.
The friendly gate lady is nice and dry in her hut.
Inside, the ground has lots of terrace areas. You get the feeling that it could easily cope with a crowd of many hundreds.
There's a big covered stand, which is very necessary in today's weather.
I arrive to light drizzle which, by 15 mins pre-kickoff, has turned-up-to-eleven and it's absolutely pissing down.
Children around me are speculating on whether the game will be postponed, but as the referee and his assistants are staying out doing exercises then presumably he isn't thinking of a postponement. The away fans in the stand share some banter with the men in black, which escalates as the ref trips the assistant - more laughter all round!!
The kids in the stand are very giddy, egging each other to run on the soggy pitch and do a "belly slide"!
By kick-off, the heavy rain has subsided and the sun is even trying to break through.
All the facilities here are on the one side. The main stand is covered, with seats made on long wood benches and painted with numbers up to 105! There's also plenty of covered standing too in front.
As well as these, there are two open terraces alongside the pitch and some banked steps in the corner. There are lean-on barriers all around the full perimeter of the pitch.
The teams emerge. Handshakes done, the game starts.
As you'd expect, there are a fair few slips on the skiddy wet turf. The ball will certainly zip nicely if you can make it.
Early breakthrough for the home side: after around six minutes, Easington score. The Washington defence loses its shape and it's a simple tap-in really.
A man standing near me is vaping: it smells like a packet of Refreshers.
With fifteen minutes gone, it's time for coffee. The bloke in the kiosk rustles up an absolutely perfect cuppa in a proper mug!
From the extensive and tempting menu, I take what he advertises as a "Cornish" pasty and peas. Now, in Cornwall they get quite protective over their eponymous pastry sensation, so a true Cornishman probably would have been livid with this pepper and chickpea recipe! Still, I only cared that it tasted great...and it was £3 for the lot. Absolutely brilliant!
In the persistent drizzle, a groundsman comes out with a broom to sweep away the puddles from the terracing! Very attentive and H&S conscious.
We're a quarter through now, in a pretty even game with chances at both ends and good possession play, with Easington edging it slightly. The game has been played in a good spirit so far, but then the Easington right-winger is cleaned out by a wayward Washington tackle. There was no malice, maybe the conditions didn't help? The referee has a word but shows no card. The free-kick is wasted.
A young man walks his tiny dog past and into the adjoining practice pitch for a natural break: the dog is no bigger than one of the lads trainers!
On the pitch, there's a Washington attack down their left, culminating in the striker coming in onto his right foot and unleashing a stinging shot, which his striker partner just reaches to glance a header onto the bar. It cannons off and high into the air, to lots of ooohs from the visiting contingent.
The man nearest me accidentally drops his mug onto the floor of the stand: there's a big smack but the mug is seemingly indestructible. He confesses to thinking the brick wall he was putting it on was double thick.
Another long range screamer from the visitors now, which the Easington keeper parries high into the air and gathers gratefully.
Washington are pressing now for an equaliser to take in at the break, so they have their tails up. Yet, the ref's whistle thwarts them and it's half-time. 1-0.
Washington are pressing now for an equaliser to take in at the break, so they have their tails up. Yet, the ref's whistle thwarts them and it's half-time. 1-0.
The low gloom lifts from over the sea. Now you can see the Tees wind farm in the distance as well as some container ships on yhe horizon. The Cleveland hills are visible in the far distance and, closer, the rugged headland is skirted by bronze sands and foamy gentle waves.
Sunshine breaks out and the temperature noticeable picks up. Some fields nearby are bare and showing the ill-effects of the long dry summer. In others, horses graze at what looks like an equestrian centre.
A lady enjoys a vape that smells of candy floss and I imagine the scent wafting up from the seafront at Seaham.
The teams are back out and the second half begins.
I wander over for another coffee, taking the dropped mug too which the dropper appears to have abandoned. The food guy chucks them both in a big bowl with dozens of others, so as to do his washing up.
As for the coffee, my refill is even better than the first!
The sunshine is much stronger now, so I go out further and get some top-up to my late summer tan. My cheeks are burning and I'm getting a headache from squinting because, like a muppet, I left my sunglasses in the car as it was miserable when I arrived.
There's a red-on-green tackle, the medic is on. The red protagonist gets a long talking-to from referee, but again there's no card (even though the elder Washington chaps around me were pessimistically expecting one). The crocked man can't continue, so a green sub comes on.
Soon after, a Washington corner leads to a shot in the box, which is denied by a spectacular overhead clearance by the green defender, spooning it off the line.
Washington are noticeably cranking it up, scenting goal. However, that tactic is vulnerable to Easington hurting them on a quick break. The game is on a knife-edge: great to watch for a neutral.
Washington are noticeably cranking it up, scenting goal. However, that tactic is vulnerable to Easington hurting them on a quick break. The game is on a knife-edge: great to watch for a neutral.
The visitors make a double substitution, hoping that fresh legs will tip the balance.
Success! They gambled wisely, as Washington equalise with a through ball that finds their beefy #9 and he slots coolly beyond the Easington keeper. Nice finish! It's all-square: game on!
A red man goes down with cramp, to be replaced by their final sub. Meanwhile, the greegreen bench brings on a sub too. A great Washington move down the right leads to a great cross into the centre, but the on-rushing red substitute puts his sitter wide, unmarked. That's a big miss: are the visitors going to regret that? It's truly end-to-end now: a fantastic game!
As the old theme tune goes: up the streets and houses, a rainbow is flying high.
Back down on the earth: killer blow! There's an injury time winner... for Washington. An unsophisticated clearance over the heads of the midfield sets the big red centre-forward on a chase. He wins the race and coolly fires a left foot shot past the prone keeper and into the far corner.
Then, Washington get possession and unleash their rapid midfield dynamo, who sprints the length of the pitch toward open goal, but he's expertly pursued by a lanky Easington defender, who gets a crucial foot in and the ball spins wide.
Full-time: it ends 1-2.
There are sporting handshakes and pats on backs all round: like I said, it's been a good spirit, even though Easington must be dying inside. Once alone, the cheers from the away changing-room are nonetheless audible to all, carried away on the breeze across the scene and out over the rolling waves beyond.
As the spectators wander off, the ground staff dismantle the netting. Easington hearts have also been collapsed.
As I use the facilities before leaving, people are mingling with drinks outside on the terrace in the fresh afternoon air, whilst the racing channel is on in the almost-empty clubhouse bar.
There's a signed photo, on the wall next to the toilets, of Manchester United goalkeeper Jack Crompton in the 1948 FA Cup Final. I ponder whether (i) if they'd had a signed photo of either of Bolton's two Stans (Matthews or Mortenson) from the same match they'd have hung it in a grander location, or (ii) if people customarily touch the photo en route to/from spending a penny, as if for spiritual inspiration much like the 'This is Anfield' sign?
As I leave town, I take a route via the coast road. The same terraces of mining villages are now bathed in late afternoon sunshine.
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