A sunny day at the Beveree

We Watford fans are spoiled these days. When we’re not making repeat visits to Wembley, we watch home games at a spruced-up Vicarage Road that would be all but unrecognisable to anyone who last saw a match there in the 20th century, and away games at a variety of equally smart stadiums (and Selhurst Park).

Listening to Hornet Heaven or reading The Watford Treasury gives a flavour of the no-frills experience that watching football used to be, but sometimes you just need to go back to basics. So yesterday afternoon, finding myself at a loose end on a sunny day and with a full programme of football outside the Premier League, I decided to pay a visit to my local non-league team, Hampton & Richmond Borough, who were hosting Truro City in the National League South. Call it a palate-cleanser ahead of tonight’s game at the Vic.

I say ‘local’; their ground, the oddly-named Beveree, is about eight miles away as the crow flies, but thanks to the random transport generator that is South West Trains it took me an hour and a quarter to get there (and even longer to get home). Arriving just after kickoff, I chose a vantage point in the shade, on the covered terracing that stretches halfway down one side of the ground, and surveyed the scene. The Beveree is a typically ramshackle non-league ground, with the pitch surrounded by a random assortment of structures; a couple of small stands with seats, some covered terracing, a two-storey clubhouse that holds the changing rooms, a bar and various other bits and pieces. I particularly liked the ‘Keith Hussey Stand’ that adorns the away end, consisting of little more than two rows of scaffolding poles with some corrugated iron laid over the top.

Among the fans I spotted a couple of Fulham shirts and a few Hampton ones, in their distinctive colours of red and dark blue stripes. Many were sipping pints, the Beveree being a rare stadium where alcohol is permitted on the terraces. What with the beer and the bank holiday sunshine, the vibe was laid-back, with no one getting too worked up about what was happening on the pitch. This may have been because Hampton had made themselves mathematically safe with a victory on Saturday.

As for Truro, still potentially in danger of relegation, they had decided to play a ridiculously high defensive line (just short of the centre circle), and after a few failed attempts at breaching the offside trap, Hampton finally succeeded and duly scored. A one-nil half-time lead soon became two with a penalty, and that seemed to be that. However, after a combination of the post, the Truro goalie and poor finishing had kept it at two-nil for most of the second half, some classic fannying about in the Hampton defence led to a goal back for Truro, who then piled everyone forward and scored a dramatic injury-time equaliser with a diving header from a deep cross. Cue some chuntering from the home fans, but nothing more. At least the coachload of Truro fans would have had something to celebrate on their 300-mile trip home (though as it turned out, the draw dropped them into the relegation zone).

Perusing the programme at half-time, I spotted a Watford link; among the Hampton squad is a certain Matty Whichelow, who you may remember as one of a number of homegrown youngsters who had a spell in the Hornets first team in the cash-strapped pre-Pozzo era. He hasn’t played much this season (nine starts and 14 appearances from the bench), and he wasn’t in the matchday squad yesterday, so maybe he’s injured.

I liked Matty, a lively winger with an eye for goal. I was convinced that this fertile crop of youth team graduates (Jordan Parkes, Dale Bennett, Piero Mingoia, Sean Murray and others), all of whom looked decent for a while in the Championship, would go on to form the heart of the team for years to come, in the way that an earlier generation (Terry, Gibbs, Jackett, Porter and co.) had done under GT. But clearly, none of them had the X factor that’s needed to become successful in professional football, and I think they’re all playing outside the Football League now.

Whichelow is still only 27, according to Wikipedia. I wonder if he watches Watford games on TV and thinks, that could’ve been me? Equally, you could turn it around and think, that could have been us – still reliant on raw, homegrown youngsters in the absence of the money to buy in experienced players from elsewhere. Like I say, we Watford fans are spoiled these days.

You’ll be back again next year

In some ways, I feel sorry for the Middlesbrough fans who made the journey to Vicarage Road yesterday. It’s a hell of a long way to come to see your team fall at the final hurdle, even if, as it turned out, the result was ultimately irrelevant. And they probably didn’t expect the last game of the season to be played on a pitch like a ploughed field, in strong winds and driving rain.

They might also reasonably have expected their opponents to have one eye on the beach, with a mid-table position already secured and nothing much to play for. But Watford’s performance yesterday was their season in microcosm. Outplayed for most of the match, they showed strength, tenacity and intelligence, and took their chances when they came. They also benefited from some outstanding individual performances, especially from Scott Loach, Jonathan Hogg (before his injury) and Troy Deeney.

Aidy Mariappa may have won the Player of the Season award (and deservedly so), but for me, it’s Deeney who best represents this Watford team; young, raw, energetic, occasionally erratic but always willing to get up and try again. In a game where he mostly fed off scraps, he still managed to create one goal and score another, and no one deserved it more.

I dare say Troy will still be with us next season (like Lloyd Doyley, he strikes me as one of those players who has just enough flaws to make him an unappealing prospect for other clubs), but I wonder how many of those in yesterday’s squad will be off in the summer. There seems to be a general assumption that Mariappa already has his bags packed for a Premiership club, and Martin Taylor is out of contract and may be looking for one last payday. That would leave us light on centre-backs, unless David Mirfin makes a surprise return from exile in Scunthorpe.

The goalkeeping situation is also murky. I suspect we’d like to offer Tomasz Kuszczak a contract, but can’t afford him. Rene Gilmartin is out of contract soon and might be well advised to look elsewhere. That would leave Loach, Bond and Bonham, and I wouldn’t be too unhappy about that.

I do worry about some of our younger players, though. If I were Ross Jenkins, Matt Whichelow, Lee Hodson or Dale Bennett, I suspect I’d be wondering how much longer I’ve got to wait to become a first-team regular. Bennett may get his chance next season if Mariappa and Taylor leave, but the others are all stuck in a queue. Hodson (who looked distinctly downhearted during the squad’s lap of honour yesterday) has to wait for Lloyd Doyley to cease to be Mr Reliable, and that could be another two or three seasons yet. Whichelow (who also looked cheesed off) has at least fought his way back into the squad, but has been overtaken by Sean Murray. And Jenkins (who appears to have been sidelined for injury for much of this season) has to hope that John Eustace runs out of steam, which he’s showing no sign of doing yet. I suspect at least two of those four will move down a division or two this summer in search of regular football.

But, to return to the title of this post, Boro will be back at the Vic again next year, and so will I. I’m already looking forward to seeing how this raw but plucky squad will manage to defy the odds once again.

Something to celebrate

The concept of Tax Freedom Day - the day of the year when we start working for ourselves rather than the government, essentially - is well established. (This year it’s May 30th, by the way.) I think there should be an equivalent term to describe the day when Watford’s Championship survival is assured for another season.

Passing the 52-point mark - universally agreed as ensuring that relegation is all but mathematically impossible - on Saturday was certainly a great relief, even if we did it in rather strange circumstances. Last season it took us until late April, so celebrating Championship Survival Day* in mid-March is a great improvement.

And there’s much more than that to celebrate, too. Leaving aside the imminent takeover - which may, if nothing else, lead to the Vicarage Road pitch being relaid - we currently have a club that seems to be functioning well at almost every level, from the CEO to the youngest youth trainees. It’s been particularly heartwarming to see the contribution Watford’s youngsters have made this season, from Marvin Sordell’s goals to Matty Whichelow’s impact as a substitute and Adam Thompson’s confident performances at the back. It’s a sign of how well the system is working that the likes of Ross Jenkins and Lee Hodson are viewed almost as veterans these days, despite being 20 and 19 respectively.

So now we can relax a little and enjoy the rest of the season. As I wrote a few months ago, it really wouldn’t be a good thing for us to get promoted, but a final league placing of around ninth or tenth, which is eminently achievable, would represent a successful season for a club of such limited means. It would also tie in with Graham Taylor’s oft-stated, and admirably realistic, ambition for Watford to establish itself as “a top-30 club in English football”.

*All ideas for a better name gratefully received…