Not that I’ve got any beef with Macclesfield, but it was pitch black here and there’s pretty much nothing to see. So I’m going to be bitchy.
It’s a cracking old school ground though. A few mosaics on the walls definitely lend it some charm, and I’d love to return during daylight.
It was just a brief visit after a most peculiar gig at a nearby golf club. Afterwards, a woman approached me to complain about how much I’d sworn, claiming that she’d kept a tally chart of every time a comic on the night had sworn.
Quite why you’d do that I’ve no idea, and I suspected she was actually an idiot, but after criticising my choice of language, she then went on to tell me which acts she enjoyed the most. Apparently I was her favourite (most swears), followed by the opener (second most swears) but she was a bit let down by the headline act (least swears).
So when I say I suspected she was an idiot, this absolutely confirmed it for me. What’s any of this got to do with Macclesfield Town I hear you say? Nothing, but what did you want me to talk about? Barely visible walls for a few hundred words? Do me a favour and piss off, will you?
Please do me another favour and buy my book.
After last week you deserve a proper stadium, although this isn’t a big one. But Witton Albion’s home is a solid enough effort.
Four big stands, a few points where you can sneak a little peak inside, and out of the way so a fairly undisturbed visit, albeit one done on an early evening.
I was amused at the idea of a Witton Albion museum. Don’t get me wrong – it may be absolutely packed with memorabilia, but I think I’ll probably need to pay a visit at some point.
It’d be hard to describe it as an essential one to get on your list, but it’s nice enough that it’s worth a trip.
My book is bloody well spectacular though – and you can buy it here.
It’s undeniably low-rent, but it’d be harsh to exclude this Northern Alliance ground.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m quite tempted to. It’s essentially just a football pitch with a fence around it.
However, the addition of some dugouts, even if they have seen better days, makes this a football ground in my eyes.
Coupled with some floodlights, it just about scrapes through. Pretty much its only plus point is that you can see it all very easily. So is it worth visiting if you’re in the area? No. But at least I’ve done it for you.
Even if you don’t count this ground as being proper, my book is absolutely real and proper.
After an odd gig in Leeds and having already visited Elland Road some time ago, I decided to treat myself with a slight detour via Tadcaster on the way home. Why ever not.
It immediately scores points, perhaps unfairly, for being situated behind a big John Smiths brewery. Plenty of geeky looking buildings hide the football ground, and also lends a lot to the club’s nickname, The Brewers.
As for the stadium, there’s actually very little to it. It’s only really got two stands, and both are situated behind one of the goals. One, the Ken Gilbertson Stand, is another modern prefab that is barely worthy of mention.
However right next to it is a wonderful old monster that’s absolutely falling to bits. A slightly arched roof covers steep and brightly coloured wooden benches and as soon as I set eyes on it I was in love.
The players entrance also featured what I think is the best door handle in British football, although if there’s any others that are more ornamental then I’m willing to wait a week or two before handing out the trophy.
Plenty of advertising boards are dedicated to the club itself, and I applaud this. “We All Love Tad” was a personal favourite (who doesn’t love a bit of Tad?), although there were plenty to choose from. It’s safe to say this one’s a yes for me.
While we’re on yeses, why not say yes to buying my book?