Willand Vs Didcot
Growing up on the mean streets of South Warwickshire in the 1970s, the entertainment quota didn’t involve multiple streaming options, virtual gaming, or any media that went beyond the printed comic book.
We called the actual reality in which we immersed ourselves “the outside,” where the graphics were crisp and the sounds were melodic and when we inevitably lost or punctured a ball, my friends and I would let our collective imaginations run wild along the old abandoned railway tracks that cut through the boundary between gardens and countryside before new housing estates blighted every horizon.
The railway in my town was on a branch route, and like many others around the country, it had been sacrificed at the altar of Beeching in the 1960s before quickly falling into disrespect, but it served as a battlefield, a fort, and an encampment before its final demise.
By the time I moved away, entrepreneurial homeowners had transformed the railway track into extended gardens, and any visions of resurrecting an alternative to the overburden of overcrowded roads were lost to updated, and sometimes irregular, deeds.
This wasn’t my only association with the great railways of a once great Britain, though, as I come from a family of trainspotters, a pastime mostly extinct today but which was viewed with equal reverie and disdain during the years after the Industrial Revolution. It’s difficult to convey exactly how standing in the dark of winter at the end of Birmingham New Street waiting to notarise an engine number constituted a hobby, but that didn’t stop legions of cap-wearing aficionados waiting in solitude as another engine steamed past in a plume of smoke, pen furiously scribbling numbers on to a blank page.
It wasn’t for me though, and during my teen years, I seemed to distance myself from the rest of my family, at least on the trainspotting front, though in hindsight I’m not sure that moving to Crewe particularly helped my cause.
Of course, the now derelict Rail House, proudly standing on Gresty Road, cast a shadow over the Cheshire town, making it impossible for me to fully escape my past, and my quest was further complicated when, one morning, while I was working at John Menzies on Platform 5, my uncle Bob stepped into the shop. I have no doubt he was taking a break from one of his many soirees north of his home in Worcestershire to spot locomotives as they passed through Crewe station, heading on long-forgotten routes to distant corners of the country, each train a relic of journeys past. Regardless of the reason for his presence, though, I’d been remiss about keeping up with extended family over the previous years, so thought that a reunion of sorts would be a nice occasion for both of us.
As he wandered around the magazines, oblivious to my presence, I carefully crafted my opening gambit, no doubt a witty aside along the lines of ‘Well, fancy seeing you here’. As he manoeuvred to the counter, he looked me in the eye and met my smile with a look of confusion before handing over a crisp £5 and turning sharply on his heels, quickly heading back toward the anonymity of anoraks bustling on the platform.
I managed to avoid train life for the next few years, with the notable exception of an awkward encounter on a sleeper to Krakow and a journey where compensation wasn’t offered, despite the only available carriage being one that was more frequently used to transport farm animals than commuters. That was until I moved to a stone’s throw from the deceptively named Tiverton Parkway.
Typically located near major roads and equipped with large parking facilities to promote park-and-ride travel, a parkway station specifically serves commuters rather than town centres.
Although the concept is one that I applaud, it’s the name of my local station that raises my ire. Not only is it 10 miles from Tiverton itself but there are a number of villages more local that would have been much better choices when naming was on the planner’s agenda.
Willand Parkway anyone?
At least then the name would reflect its surroundings. But the irony isn’t limited to Tiverton; Didcot Parkway, located less than a mile from the home of today’s visitors, sits right in the heart of town, despite a name that suggests distance and transit, lending an air of departure to a station nestled amid everyday life. It seems that whether we’re miles away or right at the centre, these ‘Parkways’ speak as much to imagined journeys as they do to real connections.
Whether they’re nestled in towns or miles from anywhere, these Parkways echo my ambivalence toward the railways—caught between a pull to belong and an urge to escape. Each one brings me back to those early days, reminding me that, no matter where I go, I can’t quite outrun the tracks I grew up on.
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Didcot came into the game three points above the hosts, but with a goal difference that meant a win for the Whites would see them leapfrog the visitors, and David Steele had a near full squad to choose from with both Phil Mendonca and Aiden Whitfield retaining their places from the midweek defeat to Plymouth Parkway, while Jacob Wellington and Owen Howe were recalled.
Willand had an early shout for a penalty in the opening minutes, Mendonca bundled off the ball as he tried to get onto the end of a Wellington cross, but the referee saw nothing wrong in the challenge as he waved it away.
Didcot quickly came into the game, playing some neat, intricate football, and McNeill should have done better in the 10th minute when his header was misdirected towards the corner flag from in front of the goal.
While Didcot pushed on, Willand continued to frustrate themselves with a dual inability to play balls into the forwards and for the forwards to remain in line with the last defender.
Willand made the task harder for themselves in the 27th minute with the sending off of Howe, initially shown the red card for a slap on Barder. The Willand captain then proceeded to exacerbate matters with another strike at the Didcot defender before connecting with a headbutt on Bedwell, which saw the Didcot keeper require treatment.
Mendonca was sacrificed for Rooke, but Didcot took advantage of the extra man in the 35th minute, a long throw-in confusing the Willand defence, hesitation compounded by a bounce of the ball that the home defence will feel they should have dealt with before Carnell was perfectly placed to head the ball before Burton could claim it.
Half-time Willand 0-Didcot 1
The second half started as you might expect, with Willand looking to get back into the game but without ever really showing their teeth, and Didcot sitting behind the ball without ever really breaking much of a sweat.
The game was again thrown into disarray on the hour when the referee saw something the rest of the crowd missed and sent off Didcot’s Smith with the second straight red of the game. The incident occurred in front of the home bench, and although appeals went up from all quarters, it’s clear that no one saw anything other than a robust challenge and the potential of a free kick, save for the one man who came to the match carrying cards in his pocket.
Willand pushed on with the even men but came across a renewed Didcot resistance, no doubt slighted by what they saw as an evening out of the earlier decision, and the visitors continued to play a snappy passing game without threatening the home team.
Momentum finally paid off and the equaliser for Willand came in the 81st minute and came with some aplomb.
A free kick was looped into the Didcot penalty area, and the defence seemed to deal with it, right up until Camillo stepped into a sweet volley with his first touch of the game, the ball sailing past the helpless Bedwell and into the back of the net.
There was still time for Willand to search for the winner, and only another difference of opinion between the man in black and everyone else on the ground denied Rooke what looked like a stone wall penalty as he was bundled unceremoniously over in the box, and Wellington had a chance to take all three points in the last minutes when a well-controlled ball hit the wrong side of the upright.
Both managers would have come into the game looking for three points, and both will probably be experiencing the duality of relief and disappointment in what was quite probably a more entertaining game for the neutral than anyone affiliated with either club.
As for David Steele and his team, the season marches on and there’s no respite as we head into another Devon derby on Wednesday as we visit Exmouth.
FT: Willand 1 – Didcot 1
