I'm glad I'm a speedway fan

This is a first for this blog ... this article / tirade will not appear on the colour version of the blog because it is not specifically about track preparation at a speedway track. Rather, it is about the relative experiences of being a speedway fan and attending a football match.

After a morning preparing the track at Blunsdon with Punch, Gerald and my 12 year old son, David, he and I set off for the centre of Swindon with the aim of watching my beloved Shrewsbury Town take on the local might of Swindon Town in a top of the table (well, almost top of the table) clash at the County Ground in Swindon.

I'm not a great football fan but I do retain my affections for the Shrews - I used to be a regular at The Gay Meadow when I was at school in Shropshire in the late 60's and early 70's. As I've tried to impart to David, I believe that you should really continue supporting your old home team no matter how dire the situation may become, and let's face it, being a Shrews fan has been a little taxing over the years, what with the drop into the Conference a few years ago.

But I digress! Before I go any further, let me make it quite clear that I understand some of the concerns that football stadia and their staff have in managing crowds that, even at Division 2 level, are in excess of Speedway crowds. I also understand that All Seater Stadiums are probably a good idea. Having said that, what we had to endure was beyond the acceptable.

First I was surprised at the price of tickets for the match - we're not talking about top quality here. £20 for me and £9 for Dave. That's quite a hole in the budget, especially when the £2.50 programme (well presented and perfectly acceptable) was concerned. No wonder football is crying out for more fans to attend the lower eschelons of the professional game.

Ticket in hand we made our way into the ground and up through the stairs to the main stand. At the top of the stairs a post pubescent youth with an apology for a moustache told us, in no uncertain terms, that we had to sit up the back of the stand - even though there were oceans of empty seats near the front. £20 - good seats? No! We were herded with all the other Shrews fan into the top of the main stand right at the end (our seats were in line with the goal line - a line incidentally crossed by the ball in the final minutes when Shrewsbury should have been awarded an equaliser by the referee and his assistant).

I pointed out the lack of bodies in the front 15 rows and that the area where he was directing us was already rather full, but the callow youth would have none of it. Only when we were packed in like sardines were some fortunates allowed to sit closer to the touchline.

Now I accept that some groups of fans have a bad name but the Shrewsbury fans didn't strike me as being the type of hooligans that once gave English football such a bad name. We were now being watched by numerous fluorescent jacketed stewards.

Pre match entertainment was provided by a local presenter and a local radio "personality". Banal pushes the meaning of the word and it was a relief all round when they departed and allowed the players to take over. A perfectly presented minute's silence in memory of a local fan who had lost his life recently suggested that this would be a good natured affair.

But no. No sooner had the match begun than stewards were being sent into the excited Shrews fans to tell them to sit down. Fact - we were well on top and playing some good football! Fact - when you're excited you tend to stand. Fact - the Swindon faithful behind the goal at the far end of the pitch were all standing!

A confrontation in the back row. A steward is now arguing with a man and his young son. Their crime? They are standing up. It's the back row for God's sake! They're doing no one any harm. They are not a threat to our safety, nor to anyone else's. When you have paid so much money and are being treated like a kind of animal it's not surprising that feelings run high.

We continue to sing and chant - it's a good atmosphere and there's not the hint of any trouble apart from the intervention of the stewards.

During half time we look forward to some interesting and informative entertainment. Unlikely that a player would venture an interview but perhaps someone from the back room staff would give us an insight into what is happening at the club and elsewhere in the league. But no - more utterly inane trivia as we are exhorted to applaud and cheer various unremarkable on field activities as if we were watching the first four minute mile.

During the second half the Shrews let slip their goal lead and slide to their first defeat in 3 months . We continue to sing and the banter is good natured and non threatening.

At the end of the match we try to leave the stand. The exit to the steps is wide enough for two people and there is not the nearest hint of pushing or anti social behaviour. Guess what. Said youth in coloured jacket stands resolutely at the top of the stairs making sure that we leave in single file. We are made to feel like school kids.

The "Beautiful Game"? Not if you're an away fan! One thing is certain, I'll not be back at the County Ground again until the Shrews visit in the future. It was an unpleasant and expensive exercise made so by the footballing authorities. Oh, and the next time I feel the need to vent my fury at a speedway referee I will remember the abysmal way that the officials handled this game - behind the play and with little or no feel for the game. And the players (and I'll include the Shrews lads here), falling to the ground and writhing as if hit but a thunderbolt - get a life, or get an Equity Card! If speedway riders reacted like that they'd be laughed out of the stadium.

Thank God for speedway. I'm a speedway fan. I like to stand and watch. I like to talk to fans from other clubs. I like the good natured banter. I like stewards who steward and not those who dictate. I like sportsmen who get on with the job and don't act like second rate soap stars.

Rant over. Normal Blog will resume on Thursday when Poole come a visiting.