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.

Not quite so lucky blue

Over the years I have been watching Prescot Cables, the away kit has generally alternated between red and blue. We have recently taken delivery of a smart new all blue kit - and if you have one block colour, blue is the least problematic according to the FA guidance on colour blindness in football, red having a tendency to clash with the opposition or merge into the pitch for about 6% of your potential audience. We also wore the blue kit winning at Tadcaster and Trafford, so it was starting to look lucky - football people are a superstitious bunch.

With illness, work and other commitments, we have not mustered much of a turnout for our Train Crew over the last few months, but we gathered a reasonable number for our trip to Mossley, assembling in the Station Buffet at Stalybridge and the Fleece at Mossley. After the latter, some of our party also tried another pub, whose name escapes me, but I stayed put as it sounded like an establishment for the less discerning drinker.

Still being unaware of the precise etiquette for going pitchside, I went for a repeat of putting on my high vis and wandering through the gate looking as though I knew what I was doing, chatting to goalkeeping coach Garry Williams as I did so. He was hoping for some shots of the bench. I was able to oblige.

Louis Coyne watches Garry Williams demonstrate his ball skills

There had been heavy showers earlier in the day. As I walked round the pitch, there was a definite squelch from the part worn down by the linesmen, but the playing surface looked firm. I took up position in front of the wall at the Yorkshire end.

Yours truly in position - photo by Richie Brown

There was another heavy shower just after kick off. I caught a couple of shots managing not to noise reduce out the rain.

Baba Conteh

It stopped raining after about 10 minutes, so I was able to remove the wet weather gear, uncomfortably warm in mild weather, from both myself and the camera.

My position gives a good view of the dark arts of defending at set pieces.

Dominic Marie

We rarely do well visiting Mossley, and normal service was maintained when the hosts scored after 25 minutes.

For the second half I took up a similar position at the Lancashire end. In this location, the wall is low enough that I could probably sit behind it and gain the same effect. Our goal continued to be kept busy.

Marcus Burgess

The hosts make their win secure with a goal after 75 minutes.

Near the end of the game, an elderly home supporter took advantage of the low wall to engage me in conversation, asking where I display my photos as he was looking forward to one of their second goal. He asked how many I normally put online, and, when I replied it was usually 60 or 70, about 10% of what I take, he wondered if I include goals we concede. Hearing that I generally do not, he departed with an air of satisfaction at seeing a win mixed with resignation that he would not have a visual reminder.

Despite some aerobatics ...

Harry Cain

Alan Burton

... we were unable to make a reply.

This was the first time I have been pitchside in damp weather. I was therefore more than a little stiff for the walk down the hill to the Britannia Inn and the station.

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

Final score: Mossley 2 Prescot Cables 0.

Eek, more Fish

I was once talking to a Lady Mayoress of Liverpool, who grew up in Dublin. She regaled me with the tale of a summer in the Connemara Gaeltacht, a school prize for her Irish language skills. She had enjoyed it, but there was a downside - "It was fish for breakfast, fish for dinner, fish for tea - by the end when the boats went out I was praying they would not catch anything." I feared we might have a similar weariness with Fish, when we heard Michael of that name, having scored four goals against us for Mossley before Christmas, had signed for our hosts, Brighouse Town.

I thought on the way that, had I known what the weather would be like, I would have set out earlier to enjoy walking in the Calder Valley. As it was, we needed to wait to find out how much rain there had been overnight. When the hosts started tweeting the playlist for music on the tannoy, I assumed there had been no need for a pitch inspection. I had some time in Halifax before catching the bus, so I went to the Minster and purchased a photography permit.

Discussing the weekly player movements at Halifax Minster

Arriving at the ground, I made a dead heat with my friend Roger, who first recruited me to the Cables interest, and his partner Angela, who had driven up from Hampshire for this game and for London Broncos' fixture at Swinton Lions the following day. Also watching were new local residents Stephen and Jill, the owners of Ged the Giraffe, an inflatable familiar to those who saw Dulwich Hamlet's championship winning season in 2012-3 .

For my pre match pie, I could have taken a metal fork, but I thought I might wander off and have to keep hold of it until half time, so opted for plastic. Not that everyone was as considerate: I spotted a home official fishing metal cutlery out of a bin where someone had dumped it in the same way as they would plastic items.

It was a bright, sunny day, and we were playing with the sun behind us, which was not without its challenges ...

Joe Herbert

although I was happy with some arty effects.

Ronnie watches the action

I managed some decent shots of Marcus Burgess in action without anyone in the way, which is not always possible.

Marcus Burgess

I remember Roger telling me that he visited a number of clubs when he first came to Liverpool, and returned to Prescot after winning the raffle on his first visit. He won on his first visit to Brighouse too.

My gold standard for a vegetable raffle is from Seaford Town (at home to East Grinstead Town in about 2004): a large basket, with the centrepiece of an enormous cauliflower. This one lacked the cauliflower, but was beating the vegetable shortage and the plastic bag charge, requiring six free carrier bags to take it away.

The shadows were lengthening by the second half.

James Edgar

The game had been evenly balanced until Valter Fernandes was controversially dismissed on the hour. You can see the video here: I have watched it a few times and eventually worked out why the referee reacted to a rather aimless swing of the arm, although he was shielded by the players from seeing the elbow that provoked it.

Valter Fernandes

As we had feared, Michael Fish made the most of the opportunity by scoring twice in ten minutes.

I do not think Brian Richardson likes making substitutions for the sake of it, and had made none until after 80 minutes. However, we needed to try to salvage something, so he then used all three at once. This brought an almost immediate benefit from Dominic Reid to our goal difference and goals scored.

Dominic Reid

After the game, I joined Roger going to Bradford, where I was entrusted with the Good Beer Guide and Mr Google's maps. We started with the excellent Corn Dolly, then Jacob's Beer House were encouraging popular devotion to St Blaise, the patron saint of wool combers, whose feast had been the previous day, by offering an eponymous Armenian style ale (I am not sure what was distinctively Armenian about it) from Salamander. To cap the weekend of catching up with friends, on my way through Manchester to the Swinton game, I caught up briefly with Matt from the Lost Boyos before he flew home from his own weekend sporting tour.

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 (Reid)

Dressed up and nowhere to go

Attending pre season games can be something of a lottery. This is not just in the quality of football, anything from a squad complete from last year, to one hastily assembled a day or two before. The latter can still produce quality, the lad who looks too young to be there can be your favourite player by the end of the season.

The other lottery is whether there is a game. When I started watching, fixtures were copied by hand, omitting the crucial detail that the game was at Trub & Slattocks FC (real places, sadly no football club), and you did not always hear a game had been cancelled. With websites and Twitter, clubs can get information to those who might be interested. However, "can" does not always mean "do", as we were to find out.

I had promised Matt from the Lost Boyos that I would join one of his trips before he moves to Slovakia next month. He suggested Atherton Collieries opening their centenary season against Bolton Wanderers, which raised an historical question - how did they find time or personnel to found a football club in 1916? Having missed that, the next opportunity was at Styal, entertaining North West Counties new club Prestwich Heys. I forgot to say I was coming, so I planned to go straight to the village's public house, the excellent Ship Inn, but the weather meant talk of matches rained off, so I found Matt in the Piccadilly Tap, sporting an emergency replacement flat cap. We were joined by Gibbo and his travelling companions: Zach, also from Atherton, and Rob, studying in Sheffield. Having been assured the game was on, we took the train.

This looks like a running in board from the 1960 electrification

Walking the 200 yards from the Ship to the ground, we found not only a lack of football, but a marquee in construction on the pitch. A telephone call confirmed the fact neither club mentioned on Twitter: they were playing at Trub & Slattocks, or at least the other side of the airport. Finding this, and that it was an hour and a half to the next train, Gibbo pointed out a tea shop, but his desire for a cup of Lapsang souchong and a slice of lemon drizzle was outvoted by the rest of us returning to the Ship.

Back in Manchester, Gibbo and Zach went off to the wedding of Collieries manager Michael Clegg, which they gave as the reason for not having a game of their own. In this situation I recall Horace Whalley, Prescot Cables' goalkeeper in 1935, who was married one Saturday morning, and that afternoon kept a clean sheet in a 10-0 win against Harrowby in the FA Cup. O tempora, o mores!

The rest of the pictures ... er, actually it is just the one above!

All fields round here

I had thought the North West Counties League Division 1 playoff at Barnton would be my last game of this football season. I trundled off to the rugby union County Championship the following week, and had no Saturday plans after that. However, Matt from the Lost Boyos tweeted that his 100th game of the season would be Sandbach United's Cheshire League game at home to Greenalls Padgate St Oswalds and issued a general invitation. Sandbach have been accepted into the North West Counties League, so it would be interesting to see their preparations.

I arrived in Sandbach intending to take a few pictures and have a pint before walking to the ground. As I was inspecting the Saxon Crosses in the Market Place, a cheery wave from the beer garden of the Lower Chequer told me I had found Matt. I joined him and his travelling companions: Emil, the Secretary at Atherton Collieries, whose father admired the Czechoslovakian runner Emil Zátopek; and Joseph Gibbons, universally known as Gibbo, who combines being part of the Atherton Collieries media team with York based ground hopping.

I selected a pint of Joule's Shropshire Hop, and was concerned about breaking the Geneva Convention.

Joule's red cross is one of the oldest registered trade marks in the world, and is covered as an existing trade mark in the legislation that brought the Convention into UK law.

A consensus emerged that we would go to the ground in the town's taxi (we can offer no evidence of the existence of any others). We therefore visited the Saxon Grill, where the barmaid told us that, as they were mainly a food establishment, we would find a better beer range in the Market Tavern, along with a more eccentric landlord, although she did not mention that.

The club play at the Sandbach Community Football Centre, a large facility on the edge of the town, with five or six pitches. The main pitch sits on the highest ground, which should help with drainage, and has a wooden perimeter fence. Opposite the clubhouse and the entrance, the ground slopes away at the edge of the pitch, giving a good low vantage point for the photographer. The ball can travel some distance out of play, so spectators need to be nimble.

Gibbo returns the ball

Hard standing is in place behind one goal, with neat, new wooden cover. The unusual barrier at the front made me think of shooting butts, but use as such might make it difficult to clear up the gizzards, or whatever the inside of a clay pigeon is called, ready for a game. Still, I could not get rid of the image of gentlemen in flat caps shooting away.

Matt tries the covered standing

Seats have arrived, from the Britannia Stadium, and I assume a modular stand to accommodate them is on its way.

Once, and possibly future, Prescot Cables players were represented by the visitors' Lee Novak, who I understood from a brief snippet of conversation after the game is returning to playing after some time being unavailable due to work commitments.

Lee Novak

Ground grading regulations specify that the ground perimeter should be designed to prevent the viewing of the game from outside the ground. The reverse is not required, so we were surrounded by greenery, which might feel a bit open on a wet Tuesday night in November.

I have always been puzzled by the tendency of some players in contact sports to stick their tongues out in play, although I have never seen anyone left with an inability to pronounce their Ls as a result of an accidental collision. The habit is spreading to the match officials.

I do not think the result had a great deal of consequence, as the hosts had been accepted for promotion regardless of position. I was confused by what I assumed to be final the table on the League website. Knutsford were in top position with 43 points from 18 games, but others had played anything from 15 to 29 , with no suggestion of allocating position by the Duckworth-Lewis method.

Back in Manchester, I made a first visit (for me, not for my companions) to the Piccadilly Tap which has appeared in Piccadilly Station Approach since I last had need to leave the station. The beer was in tip top condition, on what looked like electric dispense, but they may live to regret not having anything to open at the back of the bar for through ventilation.

The rest of the pictures from the game are available here. Matt's account, in which I appear as a well spoken hipster, is available here.

Final score: Sandbach United 1 Greenalls Padgate St Oswalds 2.

On the way to (Little) Wembley

Whilst the Northern Premier League has completed its season, there are still two weeks of games in the North West Counties League. I wanted to go somewhere I have not been to before, and the forecast looked pleasant enough for a walk in the East Lancashire hills. Colne, Nelson and Barnoldswick were all at home, so I was assisted in my choice when Matt from the Lost Boyos tweeted that he was going to Nelson, entertaining Maine Road, so I decided to pop along and say hello.

I saw Matt getting off the train, but he was too far ahead of me to catch, and looked far from lost as he strode confidently off with his travelling companion, his flatmate Niklas, to find the pick of the town's public houses - having walked past one, he was clearly going to the other. Having been to school at the foot of the North Downs, my first thought on seeing a hill is to wonder what is at the top. The weather was a little showery as I walked up the side of the valley and found myself on the edge of the Forest of Pendle.

The weather quickly cleared and I was rewarded with some fine scenery. Despite being from the countryside, I have never perfected the art of walking over a cattle grid - having small feet, I am unsure whether to put the arch on one bar, or put my heel on one and toes on the other.

After my walk I found the White Swan in Fence. This is a Timothy Taylor's pub, selling, amongst others, Golden Best, which I thought was mainly for Yorkshire, with the Dark Mild being for the export trade, or "the discerning drinker in east Lancashire". In any event I eschewed this in favour of the Champions Blonde, a French style in honour of L'Tour de t'Yorkshire. The Tour de France associates cycling with that country, although some of us are old enough to think more of Belgians with an improbable number of consonants on the end of their names. The pub had an impressive set of glass jars behind the bar containing spirits with fruit floating in them, which sounded very pleasant, but not for lunch time.

On leaving, I passed the Inghamite church, one of only two of this denomination surviving from the 1790s. I then took  a short cut along a footpath, forgetting that in hilly areas, the bottom is where the water gathers, and found myself dodging a number of hedge to hedge quagmires.

Nelson's Victoria Park, also known as Little Wembley, is a few hundred yards from their previous home, at which they once attracted14,000 spectators, and which is now partially under the M65. The front doors of a terrace of houses open on to the grass beside the pitch, although with a fence between - taking the habit of northern people not using the front door for everyday access to its logical conclusion, their vehicular access is to the back. I took up position on what we might call the residential side with the sun behind me.

I did not find a team sheet, but the advantage of a club with which I have no connection is that I do not need one, as no-one is expecting captions. I looked out for Matt - someone wearing a flat cap should be fairly distinctive in this part of the world. Er ... I spotted him in the stand, which would have been looking into the sun, so I stayed put and waited for him to walk round the ground.

I stayed with Matt and Niklas behind the goal the hosts were attacking for the second half. About half way through, they disappeared to a corner of the ground, and I looked round, to see they had found a boat. I was a little less than compos mentis, as it took me a few minutes to work out why Nelson were known as the Admirals, so I was not sure why they had a boat (which, it transpired, was less than seaworthy): although the Pendle Water runs the other side of the trees, a pair of wellingtons would be sufficient to retrieve any balls that went in.

Matt poses with Boaty McBoatface

With no-one expecting any photos, I can try out new techniques. With my old camera, I could not position myself directly behind the goal, as the autofocus would almost always catch the net. However, I now have a cross hair for the central focus point, so I took the opportunity of Nelson being awarded a penalty to try it out.

The rest of the pictures from what was very much an end of season game with little at stake can be seen here. Photos of the scenery can be seen here. The account of the day on Lost Boyos can be seen here.

Final score: Nelson 1 Maine Road 1.

'Appen us do like to be beside t'seaside

When Prescot Cables' fixtures were released, one point that jumped out was three trips to Yorkshire in January, including to Scarborough Athletic, playing at Bridlington Town. This fixture turned out to be useful with the weather, as the pitch, sitting, as the British Geological Survey tells us, on superficial deposits of sand with a white chalk bedrock, drains very well. Scarborough and Bridlington have largely escaped the postponements that have affected the rest of us.

I have never been a great fan of bucket and spade holidays, especially not in January, but a few of the Train Crew stayed over for a night or two, booking early to pay for the hotel with savings on the fare. I decided to wait to be sure the game was on, settling on a day trip. I met Dr James as he headed for the Liverpool to Scarborough train, and explained I would take the fast train to Leeds, buy a separate ticket and join him there, saving £15. I inspected the southern entrance to Leeds Station, whose pristine appearance and smell of fresh paint indicated it was recently opened, and which brings three or four Good Beer Guide pubs five minutes closer to the train.

In Bridlington we adjourned to the Telegraph, where I enjoyed an Anglers Reward from the Wold Top Brewery, making up in taste for what it lacked in punctuation. You cannot beat water filtered through chalk for making beer. We were concerned about the time to get to the ground, but we looked around and realised from the attire of the other customers that they were mainly the home support, and we just needed to leave when they did.

We were missing a couple of players. Team captain James McCulloch is likely to be out of action for some time due to ligament damage sustained in training. Marcus Burgess was suspended, replaced by new signing Tom Brocklehurst, returning to playing, having most recently been with Skelmersdale United.

Tom Brocklehurst

Andy Nugent also made a first appearance.

The hosts had an early chance, but we opened the scoring from a free kick by Rob Doran. We thought at the time this was from 25 yards, although looking at Scarborough's video and my pictures, it was some distance further than that. I was the wrong side to capture the kick very well...

... but I was perfectly placed to see the ball go into the net.

Returning from Skelmersdale United after a short spell with us earlier in the season, was Sam Staunton Turner, who wasted no time adding his name to the score sheet with a superb long range shot.

Sam shoots for goal ...

... and watches it go in.

With sunset in Yorkshire a quarter of an hour earlier than back at home, it was starting to get dark at the end of the first half. The floodlights came on for the second.

Our third goal came from another long range shot from Phil Bannister.

Phil shoots for goal ...

... and Richie updates the Twitter feed

A feature of these trips is meeting the locals. Leaving the ground, the rest of our party were some distance ahead. From around the corner I heard some sort of commotion. A local lady had asked the score, and on hearing that we won, loudly and colourfully expressed her satisfaction as a Bridlington supporter who had little time for Scarborough.

Back in Scarborough, the rest of the party headed for what by all accounts was an enjoyable evening, with some after effects in the morning, whilst I went for the train home. The journey is always improved by a win, although I have yet to find the scoreline that improves the comfort of TransPennine's buttock-numbingly firm seats.

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

Final score: Scarborough Athletic 0 Prescot Cables 3 (Doran, Staunton Turner, Bannister).

The waters recede

For Prescot Cables' Boxing Day game away at Burscough, Merseyrail were running trains for the first time, so we were looking forward to going. The weather had other ideas, with severe flooding in a number of areas. We were on the edge of the rain, with games such as the Runcorn derby going ahead without a problem. Indeed, I would have gone to watch on a bank holiday with transport.

For Bank Holiday Monday, our game at home to Lancaster City was on. Richie, our leader in beer and pub choices, suggested a pre match drink at the Cricketers' Arms in St Helens. Pubs with sporting names seem to go more with cricketers than footballers, possibly because half the participants in the former have time to discuss what the establishment should be called. A couple of people decided not to attend, being unsure of the location, and concerned about being left wandering around St Helens for all eternity. They need not have worried, as it is a hundred yards from a stop for the 10A. Our visit coincided with one of their quarterly beer festivals.

At the game, I had new equipment. I reported at the previous game that my kit had got wet: it got worse when my D5000 gave up the ghost. I had my eye on the D5300 for some time, and planned to upgrade in the new year. I am not an early adopter: unless I really need what the newest technology can offer, I am happy to be a model behind, with a stable iteration. The release of the D5500 last year brought the D5300 into that category, and knocked a bit off the price. I brought my plans forward, although if there is a week of the year I would prefer not to replace electronic equipment ...

James McCulloch

I started using the sports mode, which works as I am used to, giving preference to shutter speed, but not allowing you to set a minimum, and going up to ISO 3200 on the automatic setting. Once this started giving slower speeds than I wanted, I switched to shutter priority, which behaves differently from the previous model, going straight to the most sensitive ISO setting (25600) to maintain the smallest aperture.

Joe Herbert

This was not what I was looking for, so I explored more, and found I can set the ISO manually in the sports mode, so, combined with much easier menus, I could work my way up as the light fell.

Shane Glean at ISO 4000

Jonah O'Reilly at ISO 12800

Amongst this testing, there was a game going on, with Cables having put in a lacklustre performance in the first half to go in a goal down.

A much improved second half did not initially yield results, with a further goal from the visitors, but we swiftly answered back, with one from Joe Nicholson ...

Joe Nicholson (at ISO 16000)

... and a debut goal from Darryl Patton, not wasting a moment after coming on from the bench.

Darryl Patton (at ISO 25600)

Throughout the half, I was getting good results from the lighting with better speeds than I was used to. The sensor, as well as giving me 22MP rather than 10 (and a 25MB file, but that is another story), was importing a lot less noise at the more sensitive settings.

For the last 10 minutes or so, the sports mode was taking me below 1/200s, so I went to the shutter priority, where I was still getting well lit images.

Marcus Burgess - 1/250s, f/6.3, ISO 25600 - and at the opposite end of the pitch from me

Unfortunately the performance could not quite match the durability of my exposures, with the visitors snatching all three points with almost the last kick. 

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

Final score: Prescot Cables 2 (Joe Nicholson, Patton) Lancaster City 3.