Squires Gate 2 GNE 1

Six pence for the cruet! This gloriously evocative phrase will bring back some mixed memories amongst the older readership of these short narratives. Memories of dark satanic mills in the north of England, long working days in poor conditions, boys cleaning out chimneys, paintings by LS Lowry and the long looked forward to Wakes Week.

Recent memories of those times long ago were invoked roughly twelve months ago as the special train left Glossop station heading towards London. Indeed, many have said that the “Wembley Special” was the first special train from Glossop since the wakes week specials of something over 40 years ago. This is possibly true but, back in those days, the destination was not London but, more likely, Blackpool. Having worked for 51 weeks of the year in, as suggested, difficult working conditions, which would certainly not be allowed in the “‘Elf & Safety” culture of today, everybody went off on holiday together to get some sun, sea , sand and anything else they could. For some very good reasons – mainly to do with accommodation - wakes weeks were staggered. In our area, Hyde was amongst the first at the very end of June with Ashton bringing up the rear sometime in the middle of August.

And where did they all stay? Well, the history of Blackpool landladies is legendary as the owners of small hotels offering basic food – sometimes - and accommodation for the price of a week’s wage – not a lot in those days but provided by the employer since 1938 under the Holiday with Pay Act. Inevitably, corners were cut in that whole families stayed in one small room and the regime was strict in that if you were not back by closing time then “tough young man – a night under the pier for you”!! It was common practice back in those far off days for families to bring their own food and the landlady to cook it. This practice led to a number of what we may call “opportunities” for landladies to maximize their profits but just one example of the abject profiteering practiced by these fearsome landladies was the custom of charging sixpence extra on the cost of a week’s accommodation for use of the salt, pepper and vinegar at the dining table. But, there was at least a choice. You either paid the sixpence or you brought your own salt, pepper and vinegar on holiday with you. Having said that, there is a least one recorded example of the cruet being just about empty at the beginning of a week, the “guests” buying their own condiments and still being charged “sixpence for the cruet”.

As my regular readers will know, it doesn’t take too much to get your ageing scribe meandering down the twisting lanes of nostalgia – if the slightly misting, rose tinted bi-focals allow it – but what has this got to do with Squires Gate? Today marks a special day in the history of the GNE travelling army. After the match today in what we might call “posh Blackpool” – although I am not sure that the residents of this highly respectable district of Blackpool would appreciate that description – several of our members are heading off to what was described by one of our travel co-ordinators as “the quieter end of Blackpool” and will not return to the uplands of the High Peak until tomorrow. Regrettably, your ageing scribe cannot join this merry band of revellers otherwise we would be drowned in a sea of nostalgia – go on, there’s a blessing then! Apparently, there are several suitable hostelries close to the selected hotel which I am sure will do very good business tonight and, if the price per night in the hotel as quoted is correct then I can well imagine an extra charge for the cruet – we wish them well.

As we pass Preston, the thermometer in the car registers 20oC (68oF for those who still struggle with this “New Metric Britain” of ours – that would include your ageing scribe then would it? Yep, it certainly would). The first time we have seen a temperature like this since last year and a sign, maybe, that the dank chill of winter is finally behind us and the prospect looms of being able to watch a football match without feet turning to blocks of ice. £5 entrance to the ground in a quiet residential area and, for the second time this season, your ageing scribe is asked if he qualifies for concessionary entrance. Someone is trying to tell me something here as the receding hair line tells its own tale of the advancing years – dear me!

The well appointed clubhouse has only cans and bottles to satisfy the needs of the GNE travelling army. However, one of the bottled beers is called “Lifesaver” and is brewed by the Bryson’s Brewery – quite tasty if a little cold. Kick off time approaches and the 35 or so GNE supporters from an official crowd of 92 set up the flags behind the top goal – a three flag day.

The Secretary of Squires Gate FC is heard to say, “thanks for coming today in such numbers, at least we can pay the officials this week”. This speaks volumes about the parlous state of finance in football at this level although how to “make ends meet” is a recurring theme at all levels of football. Recommended reading, The Football Business: Fair Game in the '90s? (1998) and The Beautiful Game?: Searching the Soul of Football (2005). These two books, by the author and Guardian columnist David Conn, focus on the finances of football at all levels and are quite fascinating reading.

After 45 minutes, its half time and Squires Gate lead 1-0.

During the second half, we move down to the bottom end and spend some time watching helicopters and light aircraft approaching the nearby Blackpool Airport – disproportionally noisy things are helicopters don’t you think? Attention then switches to the match between Wren Rovers and Charnock Richard being played on an adjacent pitch and we wonder if that match would have provided more entertainment. Despite a late penalty by Dave Young which, to be honest, is little consolation, the final score is Squires Gate 2 GNE 1 and the comments of the erudite Haggis about our inability to take points away from Squires Gate come to pass for yet another season.

We retire back to the well appointed Clubhouse in search of a “Lifesaver” – we need something – only to discover that they have sold out and can offer cans of Boddies – oh dear.

The revellers head off to Blackpool in the minibus and the rest of us return along the motorway network to the High Peak. Conversation in the car is limited with only the subject of which pub should be the first port of call on our return bringing any animation to proceedings.

Ahh well, another match on Monday…