Friday, 2 April 2010
Probably my earliest memory of football, is kicking a yellow and black air floater around the back garden, or once I had graduated from those confines, out on to the green in front of our terrace house with one of my oldest and best mates, Adam (aka sanj).
The trials and tribulations of my local team, and place of birth, Worcester City could not have been further from my care free mind. I was far too busy gathering jumpers for goal posts and taking turns in goal, to even contemplate Worcester City FC's very existence.
Such was the fascination of playing the game, that the prospect of actually sitting still and following any team, even a non local one, appealed to me about as much as sitting on a Church pew ignoring sermons did. Why on earth would I want to sit and watch people playing football when I could be out side doing it??
If the romance of the then, Old first division, was failing to win over my attention, then Worcester City had absolutely no chance. Later on, probably around the time I was about to hit double digits, teams like Liverpool and Manchester United, had just about managed to penetrate my mind. And now, outside we were playing Wembley, with what would start my true love affair with Football beyond playing it, Italia 90 just around the corner. St George's lane had truly lost any hope of winning my affections. There were far bigger teams and stadiums to emulate.
When I was born in the summer of 1981, Worcester City FC were bringing to a close a mid table finish in the glamorous Alliance Premier League. And, swanning around non league football, is pretty much where Worcester City have been ever since. They are your typical sleepy small city/town local football team, cozily tucked away amongst terraced houses, that seems to defy the relentless progress of time. Content instead, to stagnate and fade to little significance.
However, through the eternal coexistence with non league football, City were able to achieve one remarkable feat, which serves as their biggest moment in history. In the 3rd round of the FA Cup, they managed a giant killing, knocking out none other than Liverpool. Which, ironically would be the team I would later go on to support. Had someone the decency to make me aware of this monumental victory, then surely I could have been persuaded to wear the blue and white stripes of City. Through realistically, the Accrington Stanley milk advert had already set the ball rolling on who I would swear my allegiance to.
City's past may have been largely uneventful, but their immediate prospects could have taken a serious turn for the worse had it not been for yesterdays announcement that the club has just avoided administration. The debt ridden club which is in to 7 digits, has raised some much needed cash by selling off St George's lane to a land developer.
So, now they can look to a brighter future, providing they can find a new home, before the bulldozers tear down their current home. Given the lethargic pace of events so far, those bulldozers might find themselves doubling up as a goalkeeper, if the new Nunnery Way stadium fails to come to timely fruition.
I would not have the nerve to suggest, or describe myself as a Worcester City FC supporter. I have watched them play a handful of pointless non league games, and I jumped on the band wagon when Huddersfield came to to town for an FA cup game in 2005. But, A more accurate description of my relationship with City, would be to liken it to a distant relative. You know the type, a relative that your mum would bring up in a conversation during dinner. Minor muses of a trivial development in their lives that you would nod politely to, and occasionally grace with a half hearted shrug. Its not that you dislike the relative, or in this case the club, its just that your no better off having heard what constitutes news.
So, until tangible, significant signs of progress are being made at City, I will continue to rely on mum for the occasional update. Look out City, here comes the gravy train!