Willand vs Melksham
While growing up on the mean streets of South Warwickshire, I saw many changes to my hometown—not all of them good.
In the early 1980s, the area that used to be home to the town’s railway station began an epidemic of house building that not only covered open spaces with 4-bedroom offerings that locals couldn’t afford but also took away opportunities for young imaginations.
In 1995 the A46 extension was opened to a celebration of melancholy. The old road never really impeded on the town itself, so the grandiose title of bypass was somewhat of a misnomer, the only nominal benefit being that we were now slightly closer to wherever it was we happened to be going. Not that we ever really wanted to leave.
In 2004, the infant school that I attended in much earlier decades finally shut its wrought-iron gate, and, much to the shame of the council, it still sits idle as time passes by.
There were other, more subtle changes along the way, of course; the only Italian restaurant in town had become just another Indian; the focal point of the town, a hall that saw activities from pantomimes and parties all the way to the infamous Porky’s disco finally crumbled under the lack of investment required to address the actual crumbling, and the golf driving range and adjacent pitch and putt course was swallowed up to become home to the local football club.
But one thing that didn’t change, from my days of scuttling down bowling alleys in the 1970s to when I finally left to head south several decades later, was the number of pubs in the town. We were famous for the number of pubs we had, specifically for the size of the population. If I were to walk down the High Street during that time (and the High Street was no longer than Cullompton or Tiverton), I would pass a dozen or so pubs, depending on my chosen destination (which was usually to one of the pubs). If you were to add establishments that could still be reached using nothing more than whisky for fuel, this would swell to somewhere around 20. The most surprising aspect was that on any given Friday or Saturday night, any pub you went into was packed; not ‘it takes a few minutes to get to the bar’ busy, but more ‘buy two pints while you’re there’ busy. Unbeknownst to us at the time, these days appear to have marked the pinnacle of British pub culture, or at the very least, its final flourishing.
Recently I was back on the mean streets, and on the premise that we needed to walk to counteract all the Christmas pudding, I took my son on a nostalgic walk past the same pubs that I’d frequented not so long ago. Only it turned into a tour of an out-of-place house conversion, derelict memories, and a public house that had been standing since the 17th century left a carcass bereft of its roof along with its dignity. In all, I counted more pubs in the past tense than the present, and it made me thankful that at least the pubs that I’d migrated to in Devon seemed to still be welcoming customers.
Of course my optimism fell at the first hurdle as I retired to the village to find that both the Hickory Inn and the Weary Traveller would be closing their doors in the near future.
So what has happened to pubs?
The decline of pubs over the last decade is as stark as it is disheartening. Once the beating heart of communities, their disappearance has been driven by a perfect storm of economic, cultural, and societal changes.
The cost-of-living crisis has dealt a severe blow to the traditional pub. Rising energy prices, soaring rent costs, and inflated supplier expenses have pushed landlords to breaking point. For customers, the reality of paying £5 or more for a pint is a far cry from the affordable evenings of the past. Many now opt for supermarket deals, where the cost of a crate rivals a single round at the local.
This shift isn’t just about economics—it’s cultural, too. The rise of home entertainment has revolutionised how we spend our free time. Streaming services, social media, and online gaming offer instant and often cheaper alternatives to venturing out. Coupled with a growing preference for “staying in” rather than “going out,” the traditional appeal of the pub as a social hub has diminished.
Changing drinking habits have also played their part. Health-conscious trends and lower alcohol consumption have seen fewer people view the pub as their default leisure destination. Younger generations, in particular, often gravitate towards coffee shops, cocktail bars, or other venues that cater to evolving tastes and lifestyles.
Finally, the very fabric of communities has shifted. As small towns and villages expand, local pubs are often casualties of development. Once considered landmarks, their conversion into houses or convenience stores further erodes the sense of place they once offered.
The halcyon days of bustling high streets lined with pubs may be behind us, replaced by a quieter, more solitary age. What remains is a sobering reminder of what we’ve lost—a space where stories were shared, friendships forged, and communities brought together over the clink of a glass.
Fortunately for the residents of Mid-Devon, Silver Street is still a beacon for the local community, and a hardy crowd braved the near-freezing conditions for a game against Melksham Town on the kind of night where coffee and tea may well have out-sold anything sold in the bar.
David Steele kept faith with the same 11 that finished the game against Exmouth while the visitors attempted to improve their fortunes with the signing of experienced striker Dawid Regula from Hungerford.
It was the visitors who started on the front foot and, in truth, dominated possession for long spells of the half, forging a number of corners and opportunities without ever troubling Burton. While the home team played with their usual high energy, they rarely troubled the well-drilled Melksham defence, who fluidly moved between a back three and a back five, with the Willand forward line frequently isolated and outnumbered.
Regula had a number of opportunities where he should have hit the target, and Burton did well to block a number of shots from close range as the half came to a close while Willand left their best effort of the half until the end, Kelsey in the Melksham goal pulling off an excellent double save to deny Dorothy following good work from Kempster on the Willand right.
Half Time – Willand 0 – Melksham 0
The second half started much as the first, with Melksham on the ascendency, encamped in the Willand half, but with perhaps a drop in the tempo. Burton was called into action in the 67th minute, stinging his glove on a well-hit shot from Lynden to deflect the ball over the bar for another Melksham corner.
As the game neared its final 20 minutes, it transformed into a more even and scrappy match, with the majority of the action centred in the midfield. The breakthrough for Willand came in the 88th minute, substitute Josh Baker scoring with some acrobatics to send the bench and the majority of the crowd into raptures.
Melksham continued to battle past the 90th minute, and only a superb save from a James header prevented the visitors from finding a late, late equaliser, and celebration mixed freely with relief at the sound of the final whistle.
In the end, Willand took three points from a game where a draw might have been a fairer result, but that, as they say, is the nature of football. David Steele and his team will be delighted to have finished the week with 4 points from two games against good teams.
Finally, a word for goal scorer Josh Baker. A lesser writer might not have mentioned that they predicted much of the events of the game, but thankfully I’m not a lesser writer, and as soon as he came on to the pitch, I predicted a goal—he’s just one of those players who knows where the goal is.
And I’ll always drink to players like that.
Full time – Willand 1 – Melksham 0