Chelsea v Manchester United

Carefree in the Community

Chelsea 1-3 Manchester United (08-08-10)

The Football Association Community Shield or, if you prefer, the traditional curtain raiser to the sea..(Oh no you don't - Ed.). Pundits have been calling this game the TCRTTS for as long as I can remember but, these days surely that's the Emirates Cup isn't it? Or the Ajax Cup or maybe the Thailand Invitation Cup? Charity starts at the home of football though so we'll stick with this for now.

Chelsea made a whopping 11 (eleven!) changes from the last time I saw them. That was for a league game against Nottingham Forest at Stamford Bridge in 1991 - before Sky invented football a year later. It had been 17 years since I'd seen United, and only Grandad Giggs remained from that FA Cup tie with Brighton at Old Trafford.

You'll gather from those statistics that EFW doesn't pitch up at clubs of this stature very often. We're mainly all about the English Non-League and European football on this site. However, when one gets invited to Wembley and the magic words 'free' and 'beer' are mentioned - we're quite happy to pack our moral compass back in our pencil case for the day.

Chelsea opted for an orthodox approach to this game via of a couple of routine friendlies whereas United chose a less conventional route. Wayne Rooney was out until 5:30am the week before singing football songs and urinating in the street whilst trying to smoke a 'Manchester Ciggy'. He was trumped by Anderson, who saw Rooney's 5:30 and raised him a 7:30am, and wrecked his £125,000 Audi whilst nearly killing himself. Best of all though, Fuelish Gary Neville put petrol in his diesel car, had to call Neville Neville to help him out and "Everyone laughed because Gary has a reputation for being serious and he was left looking dozy."

Anyway, enough of sadistic rumours of footballers private lives - did someone say free beer? Mr Fuller and I were smuggled into Wembley via a back door - in wigs and sunglasses - in case we were noticed by the Non-League fraternity. I didn't even have time to grab a team sheet on the way through but did mange to get my secret stash of Diarylea cheese slices past security - saves 50 pence at every Non-League game. You can have that tip for nowt.

It was interesting to note the behavioural patterns of the stars outside Wembley. Pat Jennings was the first chap we saw. He signed a few autographs with those huge hands as he pushed through to the front. Next up was Sir Bobby Charlton. Hats off to him as he signed every single autograph and posed for countless photos - with a smile. Kenny Dalglish and Ian Rush didn't have time for anyone, unlike Doug Ellis who was bemused but delighted that anyone had actually noticed him.

The full 5 (five) FIFA stars to Sir Bobby for signing everything.

EFW were here as guests of Ericsson. Their big cheer confetti campaign for the World Cup had been a huge success thanks to our new best friend Adam Lloyd. If you think we're going to start saying Ericsson are shaping the future of mobile and broadband Internet communications you've got another thing coming. What's that? The very same executive box is available for the Wembley Muse gigs? Ericsson, Ericsson, Ericsson (repeat to fade).

If the World Cup taught us one thing, it was that every football match should start with the referee plucking the ball from a plinth as the teams march onto the pitch. Sad but inevitable then that the FA suits have been slow to react yet again. As per bloody usual the ball arrived at the centre circle in willy-nilly fashion and backwards officials have missed yet another trick.

In the United end Wembley officials pulled down a few 'Love United, Hate Glazer' green and gold banners. Why? I thought we lived in a democracy - obviously not. The Chelsea fans opposite seemed happy to milk the 'Stand up for the Champions' song with every sinew. Once they tired of that they bizarrely started singing the Arsenal ditty 'Stand up if you hate Tottenham'. Both sets of fans were in good voice, probably the cheap ticket prices meant they had a few bob spare to spend on a couple of pints in the newly errected fan zones outside the stadium.

You don't need me to tell you about the match. Reports from it are all over the Internet. One thing is for sure though, Carlo Ancellotti wouldn't have said anything interesting afterwards. Evidently, he's a nice chap off the camera. But quotes like "Joe Cole is Joe Cole and Yossi Benayoun is Yossi Benayoun" are hardly Hollowayesqe are they? Apparently, after the fun and games they had with the special one, Chelsea have inserted a clause in his contract in which he's not allowed to s..(that's enough of that - Legal Ed.).

"Joe Cole is Joe Cole" Thanks for that old chap.

When Nani met Danny. By the look of his face he was quite shocked to see EFW.

Looks like I wasn't the only one on the beer.

So how do we top a day of luxury at the home of football? One in which we dined on roast beef, a selection of cheeses, pie (pie!) and an unlimited supply of free beer and wine? One which was bookended by meeting Pat Jennings and Nani? There's only place to head to, and that place is Wheatsheaf Park. Next Saturday Lewes will be there to open their Conference South season against Staines Town. Massive.

For lots more photos of the day CLICK ME.

The Ball is Round version.

- Feel free to comment below -

Oxford United v York City

Love lift us up where we belong

Oxford United 3-1 York City (16:05:10)

- click on photos to enlarge image -

Squeaky bum time in the Football Conference and a chance for either Oxford United or York City to claim the last available place in League Two. The Conference play-off final is fast becoming our favourite day of the year here at EFW. And that isn't just because we're afforded a Wembley Stadium press pass for the day either. Ok, it's a fair cop - that's exactly the reason.

Little did Petula Clark know that when she penned 'I will follow' in the 60s it would turn into a terrace classic some 50 years later. It has and its spawned a monster. A monster so big that once you hear it it'll be in your head all bloody day. York City's Ultras (as previously featured on these pages) the Jorvik Reds were once again the pioneers in England and have been airing this song for a while. Don't worry, it's coming to a ground near you next season.



Oxford United are the best supported club in the Conference both home and away. Their ultras were formerly known as the Giallo Esercito (Italian for Yellow Army) but have since simplified their name to the Oxford Ultras. Although fewer in number than York, they've been a growing influence since they were formed midway through the 2008/09 season. On matchdays at home they gather at the back of the Oxford Mail Stand and at away games, well, I'll let this video do the talking:



Sadly, adopted strictures from the men in suits don't allow for any such thing at the home of football. The two sets of ultras knew beforehand that they weren't allowed to take anything resembling "fun" into the stadium and as such they concentrated their efforts on the vocal side of things to get behind their respective teams.

Over 28,000 Dundee United fans had turned Hampden Park into a sea of orange in the Scottish Cup Final the day before this match. Oxford United went one better. Actually, they went several thousand better. Over 30,000 U's fans were inside Wembley and they'd left a sold out club shop back at their 3-sided Kassam Stadium. They'd even sold 500 yellow sponge hands according to the 16-page pull-out in the Oxford Mail. They were known as foam hands in my day.

I'm fairly new to this press lounge lark. Unlike my colleague Mr Fuller who - unhappy with the selection of sarnies on offer - sent the chef scurrying back into the kitchen for something other than 'egg mayo'. Their most difficult customer since Mark Lawrenson by all accounts. Inside the press box, we were sat next to The Guardian Chief Football Writer Paul Doyle. A bit ironic after I'd interviewed Sid Lowe and Barry Glendenning from the same organ recently. Brilliant I thought, he could write a proper match report and I could sit back and relax.

The only time I can recall a period of silence from the crowd inside Wembley occurred before the game when once again they insisted on wheeling out opera singer Martin Toal. It was 15 minutes before the match, the crowd were bubbling and wanting to sing their songs and yet, we're continually subjected to this chap, brilliant within his field I'm sure but not what we want at a football match. A football match Wembley. That's what you were built for. Get to the back of the queue opera singers. And you Muse. And American Football (ok that's enough - Ed).

The match was an absolute belter. Normally, days out like these are spoilt by the actual 90 minutes of football - not today. Oxford took the lead with a couple of quality goals. Goals that nearly burst my right ear drum thanks to the deafening noise created by the U's fans. Yellow and blue flags danced furiously and lung busting versions of "Yellows" and more ambitiously, lusty versions of "Come On You Yellows" bounced around the stadium. What could possibly go wrong now they thought.

Jimmy Jimmy. Jim Smith and Jim Rosenthal occupy the big screen as a 'Wall of Yellow' fills Wembley.

Just before half time Ryan Clarke's world collapsed around his ears. The player of the season for Oxford ensured that James Nesbitt's agent will once again be commissioning another of his "hilarious" footballing bloopers DVDs. In came a fairly innocuous York City cross, up popped Clarke for a routine catch, flapped at it and whoops - into the net in went. 2-1 at half time. Initially, I thought he must have been barged into the net like Steve Sherwood of Watford who felt the brunt of Andy Gray in the 1984 FA Cup final. Not a bit of it. He'd goosed it up. Game on.

That Ryan Clarke flap.

York are back in it.

Jorvik Reds momentarily delighted.

Normally, I'd have a pint at half time but not today. It was luxury biscuits with chocolate and cream, coffee, moisturiser and the best hand towels in Europe in the bogs (so that's where the budget went - Ed) and a quick catch up with the Twenty20 where England appeared to be on the verge of giving the Aussies a lesson in cricket. England World Champs? Surely not.

York took the game to Oxford in the second half. Our friends from the Jorvik Reds responded with several versions of 'I will follow'. Lyrics for this little ditty: We love you! We love you! We love you! And where you go we'll follow, we'll follow, we'll follow! We'll do it for you City! You City! You City! And that's the way it should be, it should be, it should be. WhoaaaaahWhhoah Whoooooa (repeat to fade). Believe me, you will all be singing it soon. Every one of you.

As it was Alfie Potter sent the Oxford fans into ecstasy and his team into League Two with a goal that I will always remember. Why is that? Well, I found the video function on my camera, switched it on for the first time and hey presto:



Off to the post match press conference we went. Oxford gaffer Chris Wilder stole the show in there. He is still bitter about the 5pts United were deducted last season. Talked additionally about how it annoys him that fans think they've got a big budget and put "Your Lutons and your Oxfords" in the same sentence. And then went on about "Your Morecambes and Your Dagenhams next season". Asked how he was going to celebrate he said "Anyone who knows me will tell you I'll rip the arse out of this for two weeks". Everyone laughed.

There was a bizarre end to our afternoon. Mr Fuller and I got locked inside the stadium with seemingly every door locked and no escape. We'd been fannying around for a bit - who wouldn't when given the virtual freedom of Wembley - but this was ridiculous. I can think of worse places to spend the night. It wasn't as if we were going to ruin the turf by pitching up the EFW tent on the pitch. As it was, after what seemed like a dogs age, we were marched out past the team coaches by security along with some of the bemused staff who'd also found themselves locked in. In fairness, it was better than the Wembley Tour. Cheers!

Not a bad little view for EFW.

Love lift us up where we belong.

"Anyone who knows me will tell you I'll rip the arse out of this for weeks" Wild Wilder in the press conference.

Top scorer AND appearing on EFW. What's not to like..

- For lots more photos of the day CLICK ME -

The Ball is Round report from Mr Fuller

*Feel free to comment below*

Super, smashing, great day out ruined by 90 minutes of football.

Gillingham 1-0 Shrewsbury (23:05:09)

- click on photos to enlarge -

Our cousins from overseas must be affording themselves a giggle/scratching their collective heads at the ticket prices for what was - in old money - a Division 4 match. Bank managers look away now when I tell you that the cheapest tickets for this League Two Wembley Play Off decider were £31.25p each (each!) rising to a staggering £61.25 each (each!).

Fact is though, 53,706 punters turned up. Where else in the wide world of sport would you get such a tremendous showing for a game in the nether regions of the football league!? I'll tell you where, nowhere that's where. (bit touchy today Lasty, got a hangover!? - Ed).

1st prize for the winners of this match was quite a considerable one. With Southampton, Norwich City and Charlton Athletic all relegated from the Championship, League One next season reads like a who's who of fallen giants. By comparison the runners up would be jogging out at Burton Albion.

Shrewsbury had reached the final courtesy of an outrageous match against Bury in the semi finals. Bury threw the proverbial kitchen sink at The Shrews for the entirety of their 2nd leg at Gigg Lane but keeper Luke Daniels excelled with his vorsprung durch technic you know and became an instant Shrews legend in the process. That reminds me, mental note to self *cut down on my porklife, mate, get some exercise!*.

The League Two Play Off final has become something of a traditional day out for Mr Green and I. There are a couple of Shrewsbury fans on the European Football Weekends Facebook group and hence we leaned towards Salop rather than Kent in terms of lending our vocal chords worth of support.

In sharp contrast to last weeks shenanigans when I was making a nuisance of myself in the press box at Wembley, I approached this match as an actual fan. The subtle difference being beer and plenty of it.

You might think that running this website is all fun and games but sometimes you have to put in the hard graft. For example on this sunny Saturday morning -in the interests of research and photographing shiny happy people laughing - Mr Green and I had to arrive at the Green Man pub at Wembley a full 4 (four!) hours before kick off. It's a hard knock life for us.

Around 1,500 Shrewsbury fans had the same idea. The pub was Bobs Full House. We were told in no uncertain terms that this gathering of Shrews fans in Salop would have had the local police wetting themselves. As it was, fans sang, beer was sunk in vast quantities, cats ended up kissing dogs and it was an resounding success. Good luck to the landlord of that place who is now probably sitting on a beach in the Caribbean as a result of his days takings.

Mr Green and our new best mate Mike Davis.

Harry, Kevin, Hanah and Harry fully coloured up.

The Grant Holt (Superman) fan club.

Stuttgart Shrew aka Perks.

Only at Wembley!

Perks Senior, Perks and Lee Vaughan amongst others enjoying their pre match bevingtons.

Mr Green is the Green Man.

Matchdays in and around Wembley are actually superbly organised. Each pub was designated as being either a 'Shrewsbury or Gillingham pub' and whilst this rules out any exchange of banter it also rules out any chances of bother and we all like our football with no bother don't we.

As Mr Green and I took our seats in the beer garden, we were joined by Wolves season ticket holder Mike Davis. Mike turned out to be fantastic company regaling us with tales of Billy Wright, his appearance at the 1966 World Cup Final and the fact he met his wife 50 years ago on the steps of Wolverhampton Town Hall - at 5pm - after a reserve match!

As the pub filled up to capacity we were also joined by EFW Facebook members and Shrews fanatics David Perks and Lee Vaughan. Perks had travelled over from Germany especially for the match. He has lived in Stuttgart for five years and earns himself 5 FIFA stars for being the proud owner of a 'Kickers Stuttgart' season ticket. Good on you our kid!

Anyone who knows and goes to football will know this feeling: the pre-match fun and japes are the best bit about going to a football match. The actual game itself (very) often fails to live up to the expectation. How often does the football get in the way of a good day out!? This was very much the case on this day. The match was and lets be brutally honest about this 'bobbins'.

Shrewsbury had thumped the Gills 7 (seven) nil in their home match earlier on in the season. As we know though, football of course rarely follows any conventional wisdom and it would have been spurious to suggest that that result would have any effect on this Wembley get together.

As we took our seats in the Shrews end for afternoon the high octane thrills and indeed spills were notable by their absence. It took 31 minutes before some Nutter had a shot at goal. Gills John Nutter was that chap and his long(ish) range effort forced keeper Luke Daniels to put down his book and get his shorts dirty.

Both teams looked nervous both were struggling to retain possession and was a blessed relief to all and sundry when Clive Oliver blew his whistle for half time forcing Mr Green and I back to the bar for a welcome pint of turgid weak Wembley lager.

Things slightly improved in the 2nd half. Shrewsbury were the better side and were growing in confidence which is a preference for the habitual voyeur of what is known as parklife (that is enough, final warning for you - Ed).

Ben Davis - who had earlier in the week been photographed with his breadknife in the local paper wearing a pair of marigold gloves - delivered 1 x rasping volley which forced Simon Royce to put down his book and produce 1 x splendid save. Many Shrews fans were sporting marigold gloves by the way in homage to the Davismeister.

What tactics did Town gaffer have hiding up his blue and amber sleeve!? Well, with the game seemingly heading into extra time he threw on David Worrall and Omer Riza. As it was though, Gillingham's 20 goal hero Simeon Jackson was to have the last word. He chose the very last minute of the game to announce his arrival. Prior to this moment he'd done nowt. Josh Wright swung in a corner and Jackson lept like a salmon and headed Gillingham into League One.

So the Gillingham fans got to dance to Status Quo whilst the Shrews massive were left to reflect on another Wembley disappointment. Mr Green and I let the crowd die down by sinking a few more bevies in The Bear public house before returning to Brighton for an evening in EFW HQ. It had been a splendid day out in the big smoke ruined only by 90 minutes of football. Cheers!

Fancy some more photos from the day!? (Oh go on then - Ed):

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Cambridge United 0-2 Torquay United (17:05:09)

- click on photos to enlarge -

I'm not sure who was more surprised to be sitting at Wembley on this breezy, overcast Sunday afternoon. The 20,000 Cambridge United fans of whom even the most optimistic must have thought they'd blown their chances of promotion into the Football League after goosing up their Play Off Semi Final 1st leg (losing 3-1 to Stevenage) or myself. To my great delight, I'd managed to trouser a press pass two days prior to the match. Three cheers to Assistant General Manager of the Football Conference Keirina for sorting all that out. Hip hip...

Logic dictates this match shouldn't really take place at Wembley. The crowd of 35,089 could have shoehorned into pretty much any of London's many other football stadiums rather than filling just over a third of the new Wembley. Many actual Cambridge fans would like to have seen it played elsewhere but the thousands of day trippers with their jester hats and horns would beg to differ.

So Wembley it was to be. The home of football and the home of legends but moreover (surely) there was going to be a splendid array of biscuits on offer for the assembled media types backstage? It was built at a cost of £798 million making it comfortably the most expensive stadium in the world. I was hoping that a a slice of that budget had been set aside for the all important BB (Biscuit Budget).

So for Freeman and Mcnulty read Cambridge and Torquay for this was going down to the Wire. A match to decide who was to take the last available vacancy in the Football League proper. Fasten your seatbelts for the ride, cabin crew, doors to manual and cross check.

First things first though. With my appearance in the press box assured, I'd decided that my usual pre-match meal of five bevingtons should be sacrificed. My companion for the day; Mr Stuart Fuller of The Ball is Round and The Budget Airline Guide to Football fame suggested a trip to Lords, the home of cricket for a couple of hours. Middlesex were playing Somerset in the Friends Provident Trophy and Stuart being the good chap he is had negotiated us both a press pass for their space age media centre.

Aside from football, cricket is my other sporting obsession. I really had to pinch myself to believe that I was sitting in the best media facilities (it really is top draw) in the most famous cricket ground in the world chatting to amongst others my old mate; ex-England cricketer and current managing director of Middlesex Angus Fraser. It was that sort of day.

Not a bad little view.

Cheers Gus! (Liverpool fan by the way).

After watching left handed Australian Philip Hughes - set to be the backbone of the Aussies bid to retain the Ashes this Summer - nonchalantly notch a half century (whilst helping myself to complimentary sandwiches and drinks), it was time to head on. Thirty minutes later, Stuart and I were signing our names in at Wembley, handed a free programme and presented with a press pass the size of a bus to wear over our necks. To be honest, I don't think I could have been any happier had the security chap placed an Olympic Gold medal over my - increasing in size - head.

Most of the national press in the media area seemed a bit miffed to be there. To them it was probably a pain in the arse to have to cover this match. To me though - in a season where EFW has been promoting the game at grass roots level - it felt fitting to be there. It was quite hard to maintain a cool persona. I let this slip a little bit when upon entering into the area, I spotted some free pastrami rolls and sprinted Linford Christiesque (justifying my gold medal) to lay my hands on one. No sign of biscuits though. Half time maybe!?

As for the toilets! Well, ladies and gentlemen I give you.....drumroll......LUXURY hand soap AND (!) moisturiser!! Couple that with a hand drier that actually worked and you can see where the 800 million quid went. Fantastic.

So clean as a whistle and fully moisturised I made for my seat in the Media Block 1 - West - Row 2, Seat P37. I only had my own flat vision screen, a swivel chair (quite hard to negotiate yourself in and out of these incidentally) and a desk. I was sat next to Stuart on one side and Andrea from the official Cambridge United website on the other.

That'll do nicely.

The pre-match was marred by some opera singing from that chap Martin Toal who Wembley insist on wheeling out for every game. Aside from that though we had a 'keepie uppies' competition to enjoy in which Jack from Basingstoke bagged 10 grand plus the two respective club DJs whipping up each set of fans into a frenzy. The Cambridge fans actually were a credit to their club, bouncy bouncying their way through the afternoon, making a helluva noise in the process.

Amusingly, the aforementioned Cambridge fans welcomed their team onto the pitch with a very impressive ticker-tape reception. I say amusing because due to an over enthusiastic PA announcement, they went a bit early. Thousands of yellow pages were thrust into the air just as no teams took to the pitch.

So to the match (finally - Ed). Even early on in the game it was clear Tim Sills was going to be the centre of attention. Arguably, the striker should have been sent off after 7 minutes when he - the man in the iron mask for the afternoon - clearly elbowed Cambridge defender Wayne Hatswell in the boat race. I know because I saw it - as clear as day - a minute after the incident on my flat vision monitor. Hatswell returned the compliment ten minutes later with a splendid bone crunching tackle on Sills which earned him 1 x yellow card.

Around the perimeter of the ground, Wembley has those annoying advertising hoardings that change every two minutes. Annoying in the sense that once you notice them, you become obsessed and can't keep your eyes off them. I see Brut (for real men) are back in business. Slap it all on 'enry.

After 31 minutes (I was surrounded by clocks) Gulls keeper Michael Poke produced a splendid one handed (one handed!) save to deny Cambridge No.18 *checks teamsheet* Robbie Willmott from his moment of glory.

The Torquay end - they had just over 10,000 fans.

No need for the third tier.

20,000 Cambridge fans in fine voice.

Man of the Match Tim Sills. For you he will be 'The Man in the Iron Mask'.

Three minutes later Torquay skipper, hairy Chris Hargreaves opened the scoring with an absolute screamer into the top corner, just like he must have done in his dreams the previous evening. 1-0 to Torquay who then - after being outplayed in the early exchanges - began to beam with confidence and even had the audacity to start playing to ball around in 'triangles'. Nice.

Half time duly arrived. It has a habit of doing so after around 45 minutes of each game. After applying another layer of luxury moisturiser, I made my way to the table in the press room that I had earmarked out earlier in the day for being the favourite to house our biscuit selection box. I wasn't to be disappointed. Deep breathes now everybody. They had jammy dodgers, bourbons, custard creams the lot. You name it, they had it. Biscuit heaven.

Oh my God!

On entering the media section at half time I was stopped by security. They asked to see my press pass. Not a problem old boy. In fact if that chap wants to see my pass he can - every day for the next two years because I'll still be wearing it!

After 69 minutes (fnar fnar) of the second half, any chance Cambridge had of turning things around went out the window when Philip Bolland pulled down Elliot Benyon. His second bookable offence earning him 1 x marching orders and 1 x early bath from the referee.

Tim Sills sealed (I'm contractually obliged to say that) victory for Torquay six minutes later. He got his nut on the end of a cross thus heading his 21st goal of a memorable season for him. Cambridge had lost their second play off final in a row and Torquay were on their way back to the Football League.

Danny Last in total heaven.

Danzel anyone!?

Goal! The scoreboard stating the bleeding obvious.

After a quick boogie to Rocking All Over The World by The Quo with the Torquay fans I headed off for the press conference. Firstly we were all ushered off to the Mixed Zone. I thought this might be an after show party with Fatboy Slim spinning the wheels of steel but it turned out to be an area where hacks could choose and interview whoever they liked.

A fixer came round and set the order. First dibs went to the BBC, then local radio and tv, *ahem* European Football Weekends, Sky Sports and then the fabulous Non League Paper. I chatted to Cambridge boss Gary Brabin who seemed quite chipper considering they'd lost. He thought they were "the better side, could have easily won, played good football even with 10 men, was proud of the team and thought they had a lot to build on". What he didn't tell me was that he was leaving the club. This emerged the next day after Chairman George Rolls told the world he'd given Brabin permission to talk to another club, higher up the league ladder.

After a quick stroll through the players lounge and generally feeling quite at home it was off back to Brighton. If you are reading this Miss K Rowland, Assistant General Manager of the Football Conference, can you pencil me in for next year please!? Many thanks.

Cambridge United boss Gary Brabin fielding questions in the Mixed Zone.

Well, you'd all do the same!

The press conference room.

See you next year!?