WELCOME TO A NEW WORLD
IT’S often claimed that moving house is one of the most stressful things that you can do, shortly followed by getting divorced. But nobody ever mentions moving stadiums, surely a greater upheaval by far. After all, a house is nothing more than a machine for living in. And what is love but the illusion that one person differs from another? I’m joking, of course. But as fans of Boston United and York City are about to discover, having your home ground literally ripped from beneath your feet is a significant life event. Reader, I’ve been there.
I may have only experienced six seasons at Chester’s iconic Sealand Road, but those memories are preserved in aspic, arguably more vivid than anything that has followed. Some of the football was terrible, but it’s where I spent my formative years, finally alive, emerging from the cocoon like a beautiful butterfly in a polyester shirt. Activated by the thrill of the day, the ribald songs and the creative language, it was a step into an adult world, setting me on course for the lifestyle I still enjoy today (or at least I did before the Rapture).
When the time finally came to say goodbye, I was the last to leave the stadium, forcibly ejected by the constabulary with nothing but a programme and a fistful of turf, which actually survived in an ashtray for almost a year. Even now, any black and white photo of the old ground is enough to provoke an almost physical reaction, momentarily transporting me back to that carefree youth, blissfully unaware that I would one day command a semi-regular column in the Non-League game’s primary outlet.
History
But there must be people who have sat or stood at York Street (Boston) and Bootham Crescent (York) for 50 years or more, now destined to be carted to an out-of-town Subbuteo stadium and expected to pick up where they left off. It’s something that is easier said than done as these famous old grounds are steeped in history, with an atmosphere that can’t immediately be replicated in a sterile plastic box. James Harwood is a lifelong Boston fan who has seen his last game at
York Street. “Understandably there is a lot of history and sentiment attached to the ground,” he says.
“But we couldn’t develop it to earn money from the facilities seven days a week so we have to move to remain viable.
Some people are pragmatic and understand that, but others are more resistant to change and ignore the finances in favour of sentiment.”
It’s the eternal quandary, but ultimately progress is inevitable, even if as in Boston’s case it involves starting the season in a stadium with only two sides. At least they have a ground to call their own. Chester had to spend an interim two seasons at Macclesfield, still one of the more absurd ground shares in football. And while The Deva was built less than a mile from the site of the old ground, it did feel like we had been shunted to the very outskirts of the city. Wales, basically.
Out of sight, out of mind, this was never more evident than when sitting MP and knitwear enthusiast Gyles Brandreth pretended to support the club yet pathetically failed to locate the stadium, his humiliation captured by an attendant Newsnight crew. He finally got there late and unwittingly emerged in the away end to dog’s abuse from the regulars. He was summarily run out of town in the election. Man of the people. Mercifully he’s not been back, but there we remain, having experienced multiple relegations and promotions, interrupted by an extinction event.
Nothing that has happened at The Deva Stadium has come close to the roar of a packed Sealand Road under lights, even if it was sometimes accompanied by shards of corrugated iron, and on one occasion against Wrexham, what appeared to be a load-bearing joist. Safety is paramount, and at the end of the day it’s bricks and mortar. And metal. And plastic.
What really makes a football club is the fans. So good luck to York and Boston. At least it’s two new grounds for me to visit. Be seeing you… Longlisted for the William Hill Sports Book of the Year 2018, The Card: Every Match, Every Mile by Steve Hill is published by Ockley Books.