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Wivenhoe Town 2, Great Yarmouth 0

Billed as the Battle of the Bottoms, I wasn’t entirely sure what bemusement might come my way as I arrived at Broad Lane on Saturday afternoon. This was a crack game, back to the walls and try not to be taken from behind etc - yep, the Battle of the Bottoms saw the basement boys of Wivenhoe Town and Great Yarmouth trying to avoid the skid marks of relegation.

What a stinker, etc.

It’s a mighty long way down rock ‘n roll (and Broad Lane) from the balmy Golden Day of July. Arsenal - of sorts - were the visitors during flaming July. Flipping fag end of October gave us Great Yarmouth in a shock six-pointer - and all before Christmas as well.

Never mind the league position - these are optimistic times up at Broad Lane. I was certainly cheered to see that my Moulton Deluxe wasn’t the only mode of transport that could meet the entry requirements of the esteemed Colne Valley Mini Wheelers bicycling club - which I’ve just set up, by the way.

On closer inspection and it turned out that the seventeen inches of rim fun (steady) turned out to be a kiddie’s bike.

Whoops.

And so what else had changed since the Golden Days when the Arsenal coffin dodgers limped out at Broad Lane? Building works seems to be high on the agenda. Build ‘em up, knock ‘em down etc - except in Wivenhoe we do it in the reverse position (steady, steady) with knock ‘em down, and then bugger off before they get a chance to be built up again.

The away end at Broad Lane wasn’t exactly in great demand for the Great Yarmouth masses, but as my preferred touchline stand in which to make a stand, all that is left now is rubble. Defiant to the last, I took up my spot with ambitions of guerilla rambling.

No one turned a blind eye. Or even cared.

It’s wasn’t even as if the 3pm feast served up by the basement boys was on par with the Chelsea Vs Arsenal ding dong from earlier in the day. Chances were few and far between for both sides in the first half. I found more interest in a four-legged friend that had kindly joined me for my afternoon of guerilla rambling.

The Battle of the Bottoms soon became an attritional war of long throw -ins. They don’t like it up ‘em, so to speak.

“Wivenhoe! We’ve not f-ing started yet!”

…was the battle cry from midfield. This is a comment that could be dated back to either the 3pm kick off, or sadly the past decade.

With shadows casting a long gazeful eye on the pitch, I pondered that there possibly couldn’t be a better place to be around these North Essex estuary parts, right here, right now. It helped that cans of Fosters were on special offer in the bar.

“Big Phil - f-ing WAKE UP!!!!”

…was the best it got from great Yarmouth.

That’s great.

The first half ended in with the ref falling flat on his arse in the centre circle. Which sort of sums up the forty-five minutes that had just passed.

My trip the bar at the break was rewarded on two fronts - three if you count the extra can of Fosters that I managed to slip in. Completing this trilogy of delights was the interactive map displaying the great and good of the Ridgeons Football League Premier Division, proudly on show in the clubhouse.

I imagine that up at Old Trafford and every seat has a personal iPad built into the design, displaying an app with all the digital delights that the modern day football supporter needs.

This trickles down the football league pyramid and translates at Wivenhoe Town with an OS map of East Anglia pinned to the notice board, and locations for every team in the division.

Being something of a secret amateur cartographer, I have to say that it was absolutely ACE. Lovingly presented in great detail, pieces of string directed you to all the non-digital facts.

You had to feel sorry for the Great Yarmouth masses on discovering that at 78 miles each way for an away trip, Broad Lane is a challenging place for any fans of Norfolk non-league football. Further thought about the Goals Per Mile ratio at half time made for a depressing moment of reflection.

This was only increased when ten minutes into the second half, Wivenhoe Town took the lead with a well-worked move down the left wing - always the best - and then a fine header form the six-yard box.

I punched the air, shouted out an exuberant profanity or two and then went back to the Fosters.

Funny old game.

Great Yarmouth were doing there best to observe the local etiquette, with a pitch side sign reading: Please Keep Out of Goal. The Dragons however had other ideas, with a second goal to complete the victory.

My Man on the Inside then gave me a very informative nod and a wink, and a catch up with all the Wivenhoe Town gossip.

Well I never.

Any illusions that the Battle of the Bottoms led to a spanking by Wivenhoe soon disappeared down a dark hole upon hearing that the away ‘keeper isn’t actually a ‘keeper, and he hasn’t actually laced up his boots in four years.

Do come back, fella; preferably in goal as well.

The remaining fifteen minutes or so weren’t exactly squeaky bum time, with Wivenhoe never looking like losing the two-goal cushion. The Battle of the Bottoms was a right pain in the arse for Great Yarmouth.

Wivenhoe are a team on a, um, run.

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