STEVE HILL
Our man travels the country to fulfill his duties to complete the ‘Card’ – every match and every minute
Our intrepid groundhopper keeps pace with his aspirations to complete the feted Card...
A QUICK recap: I, Stephen M Hill of London Town, being of sound mind, hereby declare my intention to complete the ‘Chester FC Card’. That’s every match, home and away.
Aided and abetted by ‘The Driver’, in his last full season before emigrating, we have been on the road since August 6, up and down the country, week after week, taking in all the delights that the National League has to offer as the mighty Chester FC battle for that treasured mid-table slot.
There have been epic victories, gut-wrenching defeats, and a swathe of hard-fought draws. There have also been thousands of miles of motorway, dozens of hastily quaffed pints, and some variable facilities.
When we last met this merry bunch, ‘twas on the cusp of Winter, and we had just come back from two goals down to snatch an epic draw at local rivals Tranmere in a game that would not have looked out of place in League One. Cue 1,200 feral Blues, including The Driver, who inadvertently took a punch to the face during the celebrations.
Relentless
Some hours later, still buoyant, the occasion was marked by sirloin steaks all round at a hostelry just off junction 10 of the M40. Dubbed the ‘Ryan Astles’ steak, glasses were raised to the gargantuan defender and his sweet injury-time left-foot volley that silenced 6,500 Plastic Scousers.
Back in the North West a week later, we fail to capitalise with a turgid home draw against Bromley on a filthy day. Three days later, we go 2-0 up against former boss Steve Burr’s Southport before tossing it away for another draw as The Sandgrounders do to us what we did to Tranmere. The two games represent 800 miles in four days, for which two points seems a scant return. This is life on The Card.
Despite a general air of optimism, we have somehow gone seven games without a victory, and Eastleigh away doesn’t offer much hope, a ground where we have never got anything.
Due to its proximity to Southampton airport, a few of Chester’s finest have flown down from Manchester, thus trumping our opening-day flight to Gateshead. It’s well worth the airfare, as the lads turn in an impressive 3-0 victory.
Soon to be ex-Eastleigh boss Ronnie Moore is utterly graceless in defeat, however, as are a number of their fans. Hilariously, one hapless forum dweller claims that some teams treat a visit to wherever they play as a Cup Final. Believe me, nobody in Chester had ever heard of Eastleigh until we had to play them. Besides, Cup Finals are generally played in more salubrious conditions.
With its numerous portakabins and random scaffolding, it’s like being in series one of
Auf Wiedersehen, Pet. As the Chester fans gleefully sang, “3-0 in your building site…” That’s living all right.
The Card is relentless, and three days later we’re at home to North Ferriby on the coldest night of the season.
With sub-zero temperatures en route, there’s a real risk of a postponement, but The Card is The Card, and the journey has to be made. In the event, the ground staff does a sterling job and are rewarded with another 3-0 win, overseen by the elusive Chris Iwelumo in his first game as assistant manager. The game is watched by six hardy North Ferriby fans, although the tabloid press scandalously reports it as two.
Guiseley away proves the first real test of my commitment to The Card. Not because it’s an absolute pain to get to – it is – but because it falls on the same day as the wedding of a cousin. The wedding is in Heathrow. The match is in Yorkshire. Something has to give. Nethermoor Park is practically within walking distance of Leeds Bradford Airport, but there are no suitable flights.
Tribute
Sadly, a sacrifice has to be made. So of course I’m in the ground for kick-off. Some six hours later I’m tearing round the M25 at breakneck speed, before swiftly swapping the polyester smock for a crumpled suit and swanning in just in time to watch the first dance.
Commending everyone on a beautiful service, I gleefully get stuck into a curry and a free bar. We drew 1-1 by the way ....
The FA Trophy is considered part of The Card and throws up a tricky trip to Witton Albion. As my birthday treat, we head up the day before en famille, but a leaky radiator throws The Card into turmoil, resulting in six hours on the road, including a controlled skid on the streets of Northwich. We do at least have time to explore the more cultural aspects on Saturday morning, such as a canal boatlift and nearby salt museum. Thank Christ for football.
The game itself is a dismal 1-1 draw, which of course means I have to make a return trip to Cheshire on the Tuesday for the replay. Amazingly, I can’t find anybody to come with me.
Despite giving away the quickest penalty in the history of football (six seconds) the Blues somehow stumble into the next round, keeping the Wembley dream alive, at least until the next round, when we are dumped out by Forest Green. I can see the Wembley arch from my bog window, but Chester have still never played there.
Historically, our form plummets after Christmas, and this season proves no different, as any ambitions of reaching the playoffs are scuppered by a slew of defeats. In the film of the book (and there is a book in the pipeline about this nonsense) there will be a montage of motorway signs at night interspersed with last-minute opposition winners.
One of these comes at home to Tranmere live on the box, but is overshadowed by the sad news that a Chester fan was taken ill during the game and passed away. At the last home game, the club organised a fitting and emotional tribute. I didn’t know him, but he was us, and we are him.
Rest In Peace, fellow Blue.