Fred Flintstone and Wilma were stood on the terraces the last time the Shaymen lost to Gateshead; roll on a few decades and we were joined by their modern-day equivalents, the Positive Shayman and Chadders. I’ll let you decide which one is which, but our 122-mile journey to the northeast was bound to be fun.
Organising a day out is not just about the football, some of the passengers often get a little grumpy if I’ve not factored in a stop for lunch, not just any lunch, of course, it’s got to be one that they like. Then there’s the traffic, trying to make sure, that with all possibilities, they arrive on time, again, too early and there are complaints. If we missed kick-off, it would be the end of the world. With the rain tipping down every step of the way, and the traffic slow, the tension was building on all fronts.
Standing huddled under a canopy with a bucket of chips and incessant rain, news came through of a pitch inspection. Obviously, you’ve got to verify the news yourself and some of the usual suspects have a track record of being creative at times. Whilst some complained about the prospects of a wasted day and missing the omnibus of Emmerdale Farm, it was left to me to find a possible alternative game to watch, which was tricky with the monsoon showing no signs of relenting. In the end, FC Hartlepool in the FA Vase seemed a viable back-up.
After confirmation of the game being on, we arrived at the wonderful Gateshead International Stadium with perfect timing. Everyone was fed, it wasn’t too early, and there was plenty of time for anyone who fancied a burger or pint. The stewards were great too. We were spotted and offered the opportunity of entering the ground through the dry main entrance, up the lift, then through the warren of corridors past the home fans to our destination. With it still tipping it down, and only Chadders with a dangerous umbrella, we jumped at the chance.
The first half was all action; we missed the opportunity for an early lead after the home goalkeeper made a decent penalty save. Soon after Gateshead had one of their own which they put away to take the lead. Remarkably, the referee pointed to the spot again, a second penalty for Town after a decent run and a dodgy tackle. This time Town scored and equalised. Generally, the half was even, Gateshead whistled a few past Johnson’s posts whilst Town looked well organised and on the front foot. The heavens really opened shortly before half-time, and the pitch, which was already full of puddles down each wing, with only the centre of the pitch looking playable, suggested an abandonment at half-time as inevitable.
After announcements over the tannoy during the break about retaining tickets and seeing SpongeBob wheel his magic water-catching roller down the far side, we were all expecting the worse. Surprisingly, the teams reappeared, even though it was still lashing it down, the referee was playing a blinder, credit to him, he was soaked as much as anyone but gave the game a chance.
Town took the lead midway through the second half, but as much of the 174 travelling Shaymen celebrated, we all knew that any team falling behind would perhaps increase the pressure on the referee to call it a day. Credit to Gateshead they battled on. The sides of the pitch were now almost impossible, every tackle resulted in a shower of water, the ball constantly stuck without warning, it was fantastic old-fashioned football. Maximum effort, full endeavour, no complaints to the referee, just hard slog.
We counted down each minute of the game, still wondering whether the referee’s whistle would put an end to the game early. It would perhaps have only taken one late challenge or an injury to tip the balance. As it was, the best moment came from Jenkins trying to win the ball back on the far side. With the opposition in possession, kicking water up in their direction was inventive and imaginative, an excellent way to win the ball back.
At full time, the drenched teams deserved all the applause they received. Town did us proud, top marks to the referee too, few would have let the game take place, it will go down as a match to remember.
Next up it’s a mid-week in Morecambe. Yabadabadoo! C’mon Shaymen!
Miles on the road: 1970. Goals on the road: 5 Points on our travels 7
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