1 April Wrexham, Should I Stay or Should I Go?

I take away my food saying I might go to the match. The guy re-emphasizes that I would enjoy it.  I head up Regent to return to Premier Inn. As a steady stream of folks, all ages, are heading toward the Racecourse, I am waiting to cross Mold Road to go back to P.I. when I decide to go to the match, why not you only live once.

First, I go to the hotel and get my new scarf and black took in case the weather changes.  Right now it is beautiful—very spring-like. It’s about 13:30 (1:30). I walk around the backside of the stadium to the club house and parking lot. Things are hopping.  Team members are coming in and people, mostly families are gathered around. Everyone wants pictures with their favorite team members. The team is very accommodating. I have missed the real stars, like Foster, Lee, Tozer and Mullin, but the atmosphere is electric for whoever is on hand.  I see that there is a film crew documenting the events. I walk over to the entry area, Turnstiles 6-10, where the ticket says I can enter. It is not long until it is 14:00 (2 PM) and everyone can enter. I scan my ticket and walk through.  My ticket is Y9, Row N, seat 199. I take my time to find it. No one is in the bleachers, but stat-takers. I find the seat.  It is way down towards the south end and half way up.  The seat is small and old and the numbers are worn off, but it is free. 

I choose to not sit, since the stands are empty. I walk down to the railing closest to the pitch and checkout everything.  The south stands are totally gone, torn down a month or so ago--just puddles and some equipment. I do notice there are two rebar bases that are formed and waiting for cement to turn them into anchors for standards for the future stands.  The sky in so blue, with puffy white clouds rolling to the southwest.  The higher priced seats opposite and to the north have started to fill. The VIP box is glassed and dark.  No one important there today.  The PA fires up.  I am hoping I am not going to be sitting, smashed together with a lot of party-goers.  Visions of COVID and Lock-down spook me a little.  

There is some really good, appropriate music blasting out the dozens of speakers.  It really is getting me jazzed for the match. The seats start to fill up around me, so I go up to mine.  I am hoping that I am not squeezed in with big guys so I feel like I’m on an airplane.  A family of three comes up and sits to my right.  The dad has a foot boot on his right leg.  I comment that that’s going to be a nuisance isn’t it.  He comments that at least he‘s not playing today--Good come back. There are two seats open on my left. 

1 April   THE MATCH!!!

The teams come out to big applause and shouts. The stadium rocks. Oldham in Blue & Green, Wrexham in Red & White.  They go through a series of warm-up drills.  It is 15:00 and both teams have been introduced twice. The Wrexham goal is in front of me and the Oldfield one is way up at the north side of the stadium. The action, and match begin. I can’t even remember all that happens, but the expertise and agility of the players is dazzling. Brilliant. The match is the most exciting event I can ever remember witnessing.   It’s entertaining, nail-biting and the most fun I have had at a sports event.  I could follow all the action.  There is a moment when we all think Wrexham has scored and everyone is up on their feet cheering, but then they erupt in objection when the referees don’t count it as a goal. The crowd is disappointed but respectful. I see a lot of penalties that are being ignored. Once Wrexham makes its first goal, we all jump to our feet in cheers and applause.  The chants--the singing! Even a verse of the National Anthem—“Land of Our Fathers” which I can now sing.  All of passion and love of this sport and for the team is outstanding.

Mullen makes at least two of the goals in the first half.  Wrexham gets three and Oldham also makes a

goal.  The team work and precision are amazing.  The goalie is incredible.  There’s lots of over-kicked attempts at goals and a slew of penalties for both sides. During half time Wrexham switches ends and

the action is right in front of us.   They make two more goals, 5-1.  In almost a slapstick, humorous move--Mullin is dueling with an Oldham player in the end zone. They are moving at a high rate of speed when suddenly Mullen’s kit is brought up over his head. He is down and slides out of the end zone.  He lies there on his back for at least 10 seconds, finally sitting up and pulling his kit back down off his head—his hands and shoulders are up looking for a referee to call a foul. None noted. The match has continued out without him. Mullin is quite the entertainer and he loves to get the crowd jacked up—quite the showman.

At one point an Oldham player has to exit the match. The crowd sings “Goodbye, goodbye, hey-hey, goodbye”. The announcement is made that today‘s attendance is 9,910.  The closest they have been to the goal of 10,000.  Once the 90 minutes are up, they have to play an additional four minutes. I am tense and gritting my teeth the whole time—not believing what I am seeing and witnessing.  And then just like that it was over.  The crowd explodes in triumph!  They had been mostly respectful the whole time,

there were just a few young teen boys who did some jeering, but that’s it. Suddenly the fierce, competitive rivals are shaking hands—congratulating each other.  The teams leave the field. Everyone one is happy and vibrating—including me.  Then the crowd just turns and start filing out.  It takes about 10 minutes and the section is cleared. The people are orderly and walking in the streets.  I follow the crowd back south around the Racecourse and I am back on Mold Road quickly. All of the event was orderly and civil.

I had experienced the passion, the singing, the chanting, and the comradery of a respectful experience I had hope for.  These people are wonderful. This town is at its heart a wonderful place. Up The Town!