Battle of industry

Prescot Cables derives its name from our town's departed industrial heritage, so I enjoy visiting clubs with a similar background. Atherton Collieries can claim more historical points: our name came from sponsorship in the 1920s, theirs is from the club's being founded by miners in the First World War.

For evening games, small variations in transport timetables make a big difference. Last season I was thinking of attending a game as a neutral: the risk of missing the 9.46 train to Wigan meant I decided not to go. This time, the train was at 10pm, and Mr Google's maps showed me that what I thought was the quickest route to the station was nothing of the sort, so I shaved three or four minutes off the walk.

We were due to play this game on the Saturday after Easter, but it fell to a lunchtime downpour when we were on the way. I spent that afternoon in Wigan Central, a railway themed real ale and cider bar in the arches beneath North Western station, and, confusingly to those with an eye to railway history, nowhere near the old Wigan Central station. It was as well the game was off: although I was compos mentis enough to identify alternative entertainment at Wigan St Patrick's rugby league, when the time came I was disinclined to move to actually attend.

The ground has a distinct slope, which features in my memory of our North West Counties winning season of 2002-3. In the last game of the season, in which we needed a point, the hosts had a penalty in the first half, and sent it at an angle that would have gone in on level ground, but went over: we had a penalty in the second half and did not make the same mistake.

We were playing downhill in the first half.

Reece McNally

I often mention wearing high vis working pitchside. This is at least encouraged, if not mandated by the league, so players and officials can see clearly you are not part of the game. I was glad of it after a few minutes, when Atherton goalkeeper Greg Hartley was sliding towards me, downhill, on slippery ground, feet first. I do not know if he would have seen me without high vis, but he did with it, and was able to aim his feet at the pitch perimeter.

Greg Hartley

The hosts opened the scoring after 15 minutes, with a penalty converted by Ben Hardcastle, who has been a dominant feature of Collieries' recent successful seasons.

My position was giving good lighting throughout the half.

Josh Klein-Davies

For the second half, I took up position behind the uphill goal, which may not have been ideal, but as the bulk of the crowd was along the side, it meant I could get a position with no-one (more to the point, no-one with spillable drinks) immediately behind me. The sky was coming out as a nice shade of deep blue.

James Edgar and Harry Cain line up a free kick

About 15 minutes in, a tackle saw an Atherton player on the ground, an appeal for a free kick, more in hope than expectation, ignored by the referee, and everyone played on. This hardly merits a mention, except a spectator helped things along with a shout of "Get up you faggot". You do not hear this at our level as often as the full time game: people are more civilised when they know they will see the players in the bar later. I could only place it within 20 yards, and I was probably in the best place in the ground to hear it. There was a mix of supporters in the vicinity, but as the hosts would have had the advantage of a free kick, it was hardly going to be one of them. In the absence of anyone identifiable to report, I shall make my observation here. If you call an opposition player or match official a queer, faggot or similar term, it is because (a) you know they are like me, (b) you think they are like me, or (c) you think they believe it to be somehow undesirable to be like me. It is shouting abuse at me as much as at them: the second I hear it, I am on their side, not yours.

Once again, we came closer to scoring as the game went on. Our team are noticeably fit for the full 90 minutes, which, when we face a team flagging in the last ten, gets goals and points. Unfortunately the hosts appear to work on the same principle. A good save from Ben Barnes a couple of minutes from time stopped Atherton extending their lead, and Harry Cain hit the post with a minute or two to go, but we could not stop the hosts adding to their excellent record in the second half of the season.

Ben Barnes

I had hoped to give Gibbo from the Collieries committee a quick call on my way out: I saw him at a distance whilst I was on the pitch, but he had moved by the time I had packed up and was ready to go, and I had not appreciated how much time the quickest route to the station saves, so I thought I would not have time to go and find him.

On the way home, I had a wait at Wigan North Western that was too long to be convenient, but not quite long enough for a pint downstairs. Then again, you can find quite a bit to divert you on Realtime Trains and the live signalling maps on Open Train Times: I know a lot more about Anglo-Scottish freight flows than I did before.

The rest of the pictures from the game can be seen on the club website here, and on Google Photos here.

Final score: Atherton Collieries 1 Prescot Cables 0.

Last exit to Brighouse

It seemed appropriate for what we thought might be our last trip to Yorkshire for a while that I should pay my fare to Brighouse Town by ee-ticket*, using the Trainline app (still saving a couple of quid splitting tickets myself). These pages like shiny new railway infrastructure, so, when I noticed my train to Halifax started from Manchester Oxford Road, I joined it there to travel on the new Ordsall Chord. It is not actually shiny, being constructed of weathering steel, a clever engineering thing that should not work but does, using a layer of rust to provide up to 120 years' protection against ... er ... rust.

I completed the trip by bus from Halifax, with the First ticket app. I was not so convinced by this, it generates a QR code, which is very small on a 5" screen, and I had trouble getting the machine on the bus to read it.

I remembered I would need a yellow high vis rather than my usual orange.

James Edgar

Brighouse's video operator had a dedicated platform, with a flaw in the access arrangements - having taken his pie up, he had to come back down for his pint.

For still photography, such structures are of limited use, we want to be low on the ground. The higher you can get the player in relation to the background the better.

Lloyd Dean

Joe Herbert opened the scoring.

This was probably the high point, the team were not having the best of days, especially after MJ Monaghan had to go off after an accidental clash of heads. We were able to go in at half time still in the lead.

By then, I was having a spot of bother. I grew up in the countryside, and was fairly immune to pollen and dust. The longer I have been away, the immunity has faded. For about 15 years, passing through my childhood home in Surrey has been rewarded with an hour or two of itching eyes. In the last couple of years this has extended to all countryside. As the ground has farms on two sides and a wood on one, for the first ten or fifteen minutes of the second half I was operating with one eye closed (fortunately the left) and the other half open. So, that will be eye drops in the bag next season.

Some dressed to blend in in a farming area.

I thought I would be looking directly into the sun, but it clouded over a bit, making my task easier.

Valter Fernandes

It did not make the team's task easier, with the hosts scoring twice in the first fifteen minutes. Although our response was energetic, and came close a couple of times, we could not co-ordinate a response. A defeat should have dented our chance of keeping fourth place, except Bamber Bridge, the only team who realistically could deprive us of it, had an even worse day, losing 4-0 to an Ossett Albion side determined to bring down the curtain at Dimple Wells with a flourish.

In Halifax after the game, I visited the Grayston Unity, an excellent micropub and intimate music venue (capacity 18). It was a bit full, so I used their tables and chairs outside the Town Hall to drink my pint and read my paper. I am not sure what they do for space in the winter, although hardy Yorkshire folk probably just use a beer mat to keep the snow out of their drinks.

The Blogger dashboard tells me this is my 400th post, having started in 2011 with a few photo hints and tips (I still manage some now and again). I do not really cover issues, but I have been flying a flag for a few months.

I am far from archetypally gay, just ask my church friends, but on inclusion in sport, I am fully on board. Using the lowest population estimate (2% identifying as LGBT in the last census), we could expect to find about 90 gay players across Steps 1-4. We know of one. A fortuitously timed and worded tweet at new year (thanks Owen) nudged me to decide it was time to do my bit, and time for you to know. As someone fairly well established, if that helps a potential player, coach, match official or volunteer to feel the game is for them too and stay around, it will serve its purpose.

The rest of the pictures from the game can be seen on the club website here, and on Google Photos here.

Final score: Brighouse Town 2 Prescot Cables 1 (Herbert)

* Technically they were m-tickets, but I am not letting facts get in the way of a Yorkshire joke.

Last train to Ossett Albion

It is not often you visit a ground knowing it will be for the last time. We often anticipate not seeing clubs for some time: because we or they are on the way up, down or sideways. However, we knew Prescot Cables' trip to Ossett Albion would be our last, as they are to merge with Ossett Town, eschewing the name of Ossett T'Albion for the more sensible Ossett United, and will play first team games at Ingfield. My first visit to Dimple Wells was ten years ago, when they were in the division below Prescot, the season before we were relegated to join them.

Ossett Albion v Bridlington Town 1st March 2008

This was also the end of an institution, the 1022 Liverpool to Scarborough. Our Train Crew has declined in recent years due to illness, moving away, work and family commitments, but the 1022 started of some of our more memorable away days. In May, the Liverpool to Leeds service becomes half hourly at 26 and 56, and, depending which split the league choose, we might not visit Yorkshire at all. Frank, Dr James and I assembled for the train to Dewsbury, with Frank disappearing for a few minutes to exchange the ticket he had been sold to Shrewsbury.

On arrival, we adjourned to the West Riding Licensed Refreshment Rooms, where I downloaded a bus ticket, and informed my companions a day saver was £4.80, forgetting the 10p discount for using the app. Scenes with loose change ensued when we got on the bus.

My Ossett pub of choice has been the Tap, but I have meant to visit the Old Vic, which looks quite a bit further away on the map, but is only about five minutes' walk. We found it furnished to the standards you expect from Ossett Brewery, and quieter than the Tap. There is a 50% chance I am a quarter Canadian (in 1941 their army was in Surrey fraternising with the locals), and I thought I would see the last ten minutes of Canada's bronze medal game in the Olympic ice hockey on the large screen, only for it to be switched to the national anthems for the rugby union.

Josh Klein-Davies

At the ground, a dilemma awaited. I have given up red meat for Lent, but this was the last chance for one of Albion's hot pork pies, a Yorkshire delicacy. I sent a quaeritur to my theologian friend Matthew to see if there were any exceptions for a final visit to a sports ground on the Second Saturday in Lent, but decided to be naughty and have one anyway.

This was not a game to set the pulse racing, with neither side looking able to create any meaningful chances. Afterwards Frank asked me how I would get any pictures. I referred to my second principle of sports photography*.

The quality of the pictures bears next to no relation to the quality of the action.

A tense game with inch perfect passes, runs timed to perfection, and the lead changing hands, on a wet afternoon in November, can leave me struggling with focus and motion blur. A game (from both sides) of runs that never quite go anywhere, passes intercepted by the opposition and the referee thinking dropped balls and free kicks are interchangeable, played under fine late winter sunshine, on the other hand ...

The shadow from the stand is smaller than at home, so I used shutter priority for most of the first half. Unlike the sports mode, which starts closing the aperture when the speed goes above 1/1000s, this keeps it open and the depth of field shallow, with a sharply focused player against a nice soft background.

Valter Fernandes

Being responsible for a number of profile pictures on social networks, the question arises, "quis photographiet ipsos photographes?". Albion's resident snapper caught me in action.

Harry Cain returned to the bench after surgery. The plan was to give him 20 minutes' play, but plans do not always survive contact with the opposition.

Harry Cain

For the second half, I used the sports mode.

Reece McNally

For the last quarter of an hour, I moved to the side of the pitch, and was rewarded with a few shots in the golden hour (the hour or so before the sun sets).

Jordan Southworth

On my way out, I snapped a couple of pictures as the sun dipped behind Emley Moor television transmitter.

The rest of the pictures from the game can be seen on the club website here, and on Google photos here.

Final score: Ossett Albion 0 Prescot Cables 0

* The first principle is, "If in doubt take a picture of it. Then take another picture of it, just in case".

Pretty Flamingo

At the end of last week, the gay bit of my Twitter feed took an unexpected interest in Scarborough, as it was announced the American chanteuse Britney Spears is playing the Open Air Theatre in the summer. Being as unfamiliar with Ms Spears' work as I am with the Premier League, I concentrated on Prescot Cables' visit to Scarborough Athletic's Flamingo Land Stadium, which, sadly, is only named after the local attraction rather than hosting their flamingoes.

The ground's new postcode is not recognised by Mr Google's maps (it takes months to work through all systems), but they have a not strictly accurate marker for the entrance off Seamer Road. This is convenient from the south and west, but, as I found later, from the town it is three sides of a square. Near the ground, Lloyd Dean's father, Barry, pulled alongside to ask if I knew where the entrance was (I did not), and offer a lift for the last few hundred yards. I hopped in, and we flagged down a home supporter, who suggested we park in the side streets, about the same distance from our destination as when I got in the car.

The attendance was 1377, about the upper limit of comfort as the ground stands. It is some way short of the official 2070 capacity, the calculations must assume tall people will let short people stand in front of them, and they could make it better known there are no seats for non season ticket holders. I noticed some metal terraces to be installed along the side, which will increase capacity and comfort.

Jordan Wynne in front of the crowd at the covered end

Reece McNally with a full house at the side

Those on the coach reported bag searches and confiscated drinks, but I breezed in with full luggage and a bottle of water. I then committed a cardinal error, trying new kit without having fully tested it. I received a camera hand grip as a present, and planned to try it. I need both hands changing lenses standing up, with the body hanging free on the strap, and had not considered how to do it with one hand full. Then the clip that worked well, if stiffly, at home, proved more resistant to hands cold from a walk along the front and keeping my lunchtime haddock out of the sight of inquisitive seagulls. By the time I changed to the neck strap, the tunnel was in position, so I stood behind the pitch perimeter.

We won the toss and elected to play towards the covered end, which met with boos from the locals. The clear seaside light gave me some crisp pictures. Joey Faux returned to action - and had his name announced correctly rather than ending up as Fox, as elsewhere in Yorkshire.

Joey Faux

Reece Fishwick, however, acquired a silent "w".

Reece Fishwick

It looked as though we were short of players fit, eligible and able to travel, as we only named three substitutes.

Ben Barnes was kept busy.

Ben Barnes

I swapped sides half way through the first half.

Chris Almond

The hosts proved more effective than when visiting us a few weeks ago, and went in at half time two goals up.

I wondered where to stand for the second half, but there was space when some home supporters changed ends. A substantial number stayed put, and were not pleased with those of ours who wanted to stand behind the goal we were attacking. I did not see much of the disagreement - mainly backs of heads - but the Police, who were outside as I came in, were called and ejected one or two individuals, and seemed concerned at people using the toilet more than once. The officers looked quite young: wait 'til you get to my age constable... There was talk afterwards of the need for an away end, but I have been in bigger crowds without, so I think it depends more on the home club dealing with the small number of idiots that inevitably appear in a large crowd.

I was happy with the floodlights, which gave good results, at least in the half we were attacking.

Matthew Hamilton

A third goal in the last five minutes secured the points for Scarborough and did their goal difference no harm.

I was still unacquainted with the quicker route to town, so returned the way I came. I hoped to take refreshment in the Stumble Inn, but it had the problem of a micropub, a couple of dozen people left nowhere to perch, so I stumbled back out and adjourned to the more spacious Angel.

The rest of the pictures from the game can be seen on the club website here, and on Google Photos here.

Final score: Scarborough Athletic 3 Prescot Cables 0

Hopping into the sunset

From what I could gather, before Prescot Cables scheduled game against Lancaster City at the weekend, an early pitch inspection found standing water, with the referee allowing the volunteers time to see if they could get it to drain. Unfortunately, whilst they were successful, like Noah found when the ark came to rest, only the surface of the ground was dry, and the pitch was too soft to play. A delay in the referee arriving for the second inspection meant that we only knew at 12.45, which would have left the visitors tight for time if the game had gone ahead.

A game off means an opportunity to hop, but the rain and the time meant other options were limited. Marine were at home to Stafford Rangers, which I could not describe as a hop, as I must have been there getting on for 50 times over the years. Their sandy bedrock and well drained topsoil meant it was one of the few local games to survive, and no inspection was required.

To find the best combination of buses to the ground I tried the new version of the Arriva Bus app, to find that the journey planner still needs some work. The first attempt, starting at "current location" told me the journey was not possible (it is, by about five combinations) and the second, starting at my nearest stop, suggested going half way to town, crossing the road and taking two buses to 50 yards from where I started. Traveline, fortunately, proved more helpful.

The visitors were playing in orange - there was a time when it was a good colour for an away strip as it did not clash with anything, and the league thought along similar lines when they chose the colour for the substitutes' bibs.

The shorts and socks were more unusual. Undershorts are supposed to match shorts, but I am not sure if they are available in grey, so common sense probably prevailed in allowing black.

The visitors' goal was under pressure from the start.

I did not capture it, but Marine scored what turned out to be the only goal after five minutes.

The clouds cleared as the game progressed, with the coastal sunshine allowing for excellent shutter speeds even at the opposite end of the pitch.

1/1600s f/6.3 ISO400 300mm

Half time presented the opportunity to be arty.

The sun was now low in the sky, and, having had the full advantage of its being behind me in the first half, I was now looking directly into it.

Having checked the time of sunset, I knew the sun would drop behind the houses in Crosender Road after about ten minutes.

Two substitutes would be familiar to Prescot Cables supporters. Sean Myler has been with the club for some time ...

... and Michael Grogan (of the 95th minute equaliser in the Liverpool Senior Cup semi final at Tranmere Rovers in 2012) had been mentioned in that morning's transfer list.

With the assistance of the floodlights, I was able to maintain fast shutter speeds to the end, at least when the action was immediately in front of me.

1/500s f/4.8 ISO3200 135mm

The rest of the pictures from the game can be seen here.

Final score: Marine 1 Stafford Rangers 0

The 63 derby

Due to Boxing Day's limited public transport, I was unable to attend Prescot Cables' game at Bamber Bridge, so I went to a local game instead. Bootle v AFC Liverpool looked easy enough to get to, with Merseyrail running a service.

It has become common to refer to derby games by a mode of transport that connects the clubs. There is a bus between today's opponents, which I discovered earlier in the season watching Bootle play Barnton. In a senior moment, thought AFC Liverpool were playing, and turned up to find College Road unexpectedly dark. Fortunately, Traveline suggested the 63, just as one hove into view, so I only missed the first few minutes. Not that it would have helped on this occasion, as it was participating in the Boxing Day transport obliteration, but I would have been able to watch Marine, in the M58 derby against Skelmersdale United.

I had not planned to take pictures, but as it was the first bright, clear match day for over a month, I decided to treat myself to some decent light.

Jack Leamey

I met Dr James getting off the train: as the walk was a couple of minutes longer than we needed to be on time, we missed AFC Liverpool's first goal. I noticed when it was 3pm, and heard a cheer about half a minute later. As the golden goal competition had 4 minutes, the referee had started early.

When names matter for captions, I like to get a quick picture to match boots and haircuts to numbers. I often say I have trouble recognising players when they have had their hair cut, and, positioning myself at the Dodge Kop end Bootle were attacking, I did not spot the hosts' goal was being kept by a friend of these pages, Ben Morrow.

Ben Morrow

The visitors kept up the pressure, scoring a few minutes before half time to add to the goal we had missed on the way.

Emini Adegbenro

The second half looked to be going the same way, but after AFC Liverpool's third goal, Bootle made two substitutions and changed formation. This was almost immediately effective, with two goals in the next ten minutes.

Although the sun had set, there was still some natural light to assist the floodlights.

Josh Hamilton

Time looked to be ebbing away for the hosts to claim a result until Jack McGowan made the scores level with five minutes of normal time to go. With the momentum now firmly with the home side, the visitors were keen to run down the clock, and the home bench keen to ensure that all stoppages were added. Ryan Cox finally secured the result near the end of injury time.

Ryan Cox

The rest of the pictures from the game can be seen here.

Final score: Bootle 4 AFC Liverpool 3

Dark afternoons

In recent years, a trip to Mossley has often involved a do. There was Flat Cap Day (long before I met Mr Matt, as he is known to his pupils in Slovakia, even though I thought they abandoned eastern name order on ceasing to be part of Hungary after the First World War), the evening with our German guests, and Dr Phil's 30th birthday. There was no such occasion this year, so I took the latest train to get me to the game on time. I did not realise Dr James was doing the same, meeting him when we alighted for our connection at Manchester "Victorior".

On arrival, we went straight to the ground. I made my usual observation about the hill being a mere bagatelle compared with Pitchfont Lane in Limpsfield, although it is 30 years since I ran up the latter, and getting on for 15 since I walked up. We were in time to watch the players warming up, although we had not tried dropping them at the bottom of the hill and getting them warm by making their own way to the top, but as the afternoon transpired, it would probably not have worked out much worse if we had.

This was the darkest afternoon (with the earliest sunset, at 3.53pm) of the season. With low cloud too, the floodlights were turned on at kick off. Knowing the best light would still be in the first half, I worked across the ground, spending a third of the time on one side of the pitch,

Rob Doran

a third behind the goal,

Danny Flood

and a third on the far side.

Michael Simpson

Whilst there was plenty of forward movement, it was in vain, as the important action took place at the other end, with Mossley looking dangerous on every attack. Michael Fish proved something of a storm (but definitely not a hurricane), scoring four goals in the hosts' five without reply in the first half.

Moving to the Lancashire end at half time, we found a couple of floodlight bulbs out, which left dark areas in unexpected places, and the back lighting from the white wall at the Yorkshire end more severe than usual.

Bram Johnstone

We feared what Mossley might be able to do when they scored again a couple of minutes from the restart, although their attack was blunted after Michael Fish left the field for a well earned rest a few minutes later.

We were still looking for goals, with the reliable James Edgar scoring just after the hour.

James Edgar

The hosts restored their advantage a quarter of an hour later, quickly met with a reply from Dominic Marie.

Dominic Marie

Had the second half been a stand alone game, it would have been a reasonable performance, but it was to no effect, as the damage was well and truly done in the first.

The importance of pursuing goals, even when the result is in no doubt, was made clear in the league table. We have gone from first place at the beginning of September to occupying a relegation position on goal difference. It is frighteningly tight this year, with eight points separating us from Bamber Bridge in tenth place, so every goal matters, for goals scored, not just goal difference.

Returning to the station, we found clouds of smoke pouring out of the shelter, as a group of users were smoking electronic cigarettes (steaming might be an appropriate description, as they looked like they were that as well). With our train delayed by the Rail Ale Trail attracting lager louts up the line, Realtime Trains was our friend, as we could see our connecting train was still behind it. At Stalybridge, I treated James to a virtuoso display of how anorak level knowledge of rolling stock and the layout of stations up the line helps you work out where to bag a seat - we headed to the back of the train, whilst everyone else made for the more crowded front.

The rest of the pictures from the game can be seen on the club website here, and on Google Photos here.

Final score: Mossley 7 Prescot Cables 2 (Edgar, Marie)

Things to do in Goole in the fog

As I travelled to Prescot Cables' game at Goole AFC, the weather varied across the country. It had frozen in Liverpool, but the Met Office App suggested it had not in Yorkshire. I therefore set out into fog, then encountered fine views in the Hope Valley, until another wall of fog in the Edale area. It was clear when I got off the train at Sheffield, leaving in the seat behind me a Nantwich Town supporter with a nasty cough. I am not sure why he was staying on, as Nantwich were playing at Shaw Lane.

My main tourism in Sheffield was indoors, in the Graves Art Gallery, trying my varifocals for the first time in a gallery (it takes precision neck work to look at the pictures at the right angle). The fog reappeared after Doncaster, along with news from the M62 that the coach had broken down, and we were expected to kick off at 3.30. This turned out to be optimistic, and, had I known, I would have set up office in the Costa opposite the station.

I went to the ground, to find we were not now expected to start until 4pm. Speaking to Bram Johnstone's father, I liked the look of the soup he had procured from the tea bar, so I went for some, to find it had run out, but there was some excellent vegetable pasta. The replacement coach brought the team at 3.40, and they proceeded straight to warm up, followed a couple of minutes later by Phil Priestly carrying a mug of tea - the tea being no surprise, the goalkeeper needs to be warm before going out, but I am not sure how he managed to lay hands on the chinaware.

Phil Priestly

It looked unlikely to freeze, but we were concerned about the fog, which, fortunately, did not get thick enough to halt play.

James McCulloch

The Victoria Pleasure Ground has a running track, so on the stand side the match officials and the coaches in the technical areas are far enough away to block quite a large angle of view. After a few minutes, I went round the Curva Ferrovia (I am not sure it is called that, but they are welcome to the name) to face the stand.

The view from the railway end

This side had the advantage of less people in the way, apart from the ball boys and girls, who were small enough to see over, but had the disadvantage of the long jump pit taking me further away from the pitch. Lighting was good when play came near enough.

Valter Fernandes

I went back to the stand side for what I thought was the last couple of minutes, and was as far as I could be from our goal when the hosts scored, and the announcement told me we had played 36 minutes. We have had issues with falling apart when we went down, but seem to have put that behind us, with Lloyd Dean restoring parity three minutes before time.

Lloyd Dean

The second half started as the train I had planned to catch was departing. The lighting was effectively that of an evening game, and the fog meant there was not a lot of point capturing anything that was not happening in the quarter of the pitch in front of me.

Rob Doran put us in the lead after a few minutes.

Rob Doran

We had opportunities to extend the lead, but could not find the net. Unusually, we finished having made no substitutions. Whilst there is a temptation to bring on a fresh legs later in the game, it carries a risk whilst the players get used to the change, so I can see the sense, if the team are defending a one goal lead and there is no obvious player tiring or injured, of keeping the balance as it is.

On the way home, the online travel tools came into their own, with my train from Goole being late, I could see my connection at Doncaster was also late, saving an hour on the journey. National Rail could, however, make their station plans (for the location of the platforms) easier to find on mobiles, and they have not yet developed a tool to see the density of dawdling Yorkshirepersons in the subway.

The rest of the pictures from the game can be seen on the club website here, and on Google Photos here.

Final score: Goole AFC 1 Prescot Cables 2 (Dean, Doran)