TT BLOG

Clive Hayward – @Byehorse

Clive looks back at his busy week supporting the Gulls!

The clocks have gone back. Every day is grey and damp. America has just made a mistake equivalent to Torquay United welcoming back Clarke Osborne with his new five year plan. How can we lift the gloom?

The answer is very simple. I decided that if Torquay United were playing I was going to be there. So here is your cut out and keep guide to the last 4 days in Yellow.

Saturday, November 2nd: Plainmoor- Torquay 2 Chelmsford City 2

I had the time of my life, to be honest! The Cove was my starting point, with an opportunity to talk to an Argyle & Yellows legend. He’s been a Full Back, a Postman & is now a Yacht Laminator. I refer of course to John Uzzell, who was kind enough to spend time with Russell Musker, Thomas Kelly and me in the now almost legendary pre-match hospitality.

Over a lovely lunch (melt in the mouth beef the highlight), John and his wife Nicola spoke movingly about the career-ending injury John sustained at the end of Gary Blissett’s elbow, the gruelling court cases that followed and the difficult initial adjustment to life outside football.

We did our Q & A bit, and then it was off to the Pop Side for Tommy and me. I am normally in Bristows nowadays (great view, more opportunities to abuse the away manager), but my brother was down from Hampshire for the weekend so I wanted to stand with him. The logistical issues were brilliantly solved by our Chairman, who loaned me his “access all areas” pass. By the end of the afternoon I was sorely tempted to use it to get into the Officials’ dressing room, but that probably wouldn’t have been a good idea.

There was 90 minutes of leg pulling from old mates, who were asking me for autographs and telling me off for name dropping all over the newly-painted terrace. There was also a very exciting debut from Jordan Young, a bit of Moose Magic, several squandered chances, a ridiculously disallowed winning goal and an equaliser which owed more to fish tickling than quality goalkeeping.

So it finished 2-2, and my next mission was to return Michael’s pass. He wasn’t hard to find, and we were back to the Cove where they were doing the post-match presentations. I joined Shifty, Cav and the rest of the Campari Club, who were tucking into pasties and went up to smile for the match ball photos. God know what Jordan Young made of it all, as he was hauled off the pitch, still muddied and in his playing kit, and asked to say a few words. He coped well though, saying he had been pleased with his debut and was very happy to be at such a good club. Fair enough. He was hardly likely to say he was gutted to have left Yeovil and gagging to get in the shower.

I wandered off to the Union for a bit of a catch up. I met Andy, who is not long since returned to the Bay after a career in the Army and the MOD. He’s Torquay born & bred, salt of the earth and at 62 he’s still got decades of Gulls heartbreak in front of him!

Sunday, November 3rd: Newton Abbot Rec- Torquay United Women 0 Bridgwater Women 1

A change of scenery. Womens FA Cup action, with a 2 o’clock kick off. I ignored the stern parking signs and slipped in a few seconds before kick off. I have been known to be late getting to games but managed the full 90 this time.

It was nice to meet Sally Westcott, who seems to be adapting well to her husband’s new obsession. We had a close-up view of what initially looked to be a nasty early injury for the Gulls’ Kaitlyn Harris, who had her wrist trodden on when making a tackle. She was clearly in a lot of pain, but is made of stern stuff and it looked like no serious harm was done.

The result was painful, as Bridgwater nicked a very tight game with a second half penalty. I did think they had had the better of the second half, but one goal was probably always going to win it. It was a good battle, with no quarter given by either team. The visitors are struggling in the league above Torquay (thanks Michael for that info!) and it’s probably a useful indicator of where our Women are at.

Monday, November 4th: The Silverlake Stadium- Eastleigh Youth 5 Torquay Youth 2

My addiction took me to Hampshire and the outskirts of Southampton Airport for an FA Youth Cup tie. I have happy memories of that place, because it was from there that I regularly flew to the lovely Isle of Alderney for happy Herridge holidays in the 1990s. Alderney was once described as: “2000 alcoholics clinging to a rock.” In those weeks, the tally was more like 2012. Fun times.

Anyway, it was -guess what- gloomy on Monday night, but the home fans generated a good atmosphere. At various times I watched with Simon Bittlestone and his cold-impervious son (who took very quickly to bashing advertising boards to drown out the fireworks) and the Hulances, who were again there to cheer on their son Freddie, who didn’t let anybody down as a second half sub.

Eastleigh played some good stuff and deserved their win, but I thought our back four were magnificent, and in Finn Herbert and Jacob Wellington we always carried a threat. 5-2 was a travesty, given that it was 2-2 with chances at each end with less than 10 minutes to go.

I enjoyed a Bovril behind the goal and left the ground via Eastleigh’s excellent social club. The journey up had been smooth after an early getaway from work, but my luck ran out on the return journey. Having had the bright idea of coming via the A303 to avoid road closures (coming through Salisbury, funnily enough), I fell foul of a different road closure and some sketchy Google Maps navigation (my fault). I therefore achieved a life ambition of driving around Mere a couple of times, before inching through the mist-shrouded Blackdown Hills for a 1am homecoming.

Tuesday, November 5th 2024: The Ray Mac- Salisbury 0 Torquay 1

As we have established, Salisbury is not far from Eastleigh and I had thought about staying overnight. But although I’m sure the Novichok has long since worn off I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for my Salisbury Cathedral Spire blog.

One or two of the midfield looked as if they were playing under the influence of a Russian nerve agent in the first half, but as we know Paul Wotton’s Yellow Army dug out a valuable three points in the- er- gloom of a Wiltshire Tuesday night.

I had invited myself to travel with Chris and Pete Wade. Chris lives in a lovely, quiet part of South Devon that doesn’t see a lot of passers-by, and we rendezvoused there for Pete to do the honours, driving up a gloomy but beautifully newly-dual-carriageway-ed A303 (ok, ok, enough of the mist: I’m bored with it too).

Little did I know it, but Pete is the curator of the matchday programme for Harborough Town, the Leicestershire club who humbled our next opponents Tonbridge in the Cup and who are set to earn a small fortune from their next tie at Reading. Pete is overjoyed at this development. He has a deep knowledge of football and cricket- which he has passed on to Chris- and we spoke of little else on our Jelly Baby-fuelled rampage eastwards.

The Ray Mac is a difficult ground to love, owing more to the Romanian Fourth Division than cutting edge stadium design. The facilities are rudimentary, but importantly the bar was open when we arrived at 6.30, and Chris and I explored a pop-up food stand: Gringo Chicken!

Goodness me, these boys know what they are doing. It’s basically boxes of very posh chicken and chips, but the addition of chillis, cheese and purple slaw (red cabbage to you & me) certainly makes it sing. A very worthy Footy Scran entry. To our surprise, when we emerged from the ground with 3 points in our back pockets the stand had completely disappeared. I wonder what happened to the deep fat fryers? A Firework Night conundrum.

If I go on any longer I will start to repeat myself. This is exactly what the purple slaw did for Chris on our humbug-fuelled westward return journey, but having finally seen Torquay prevail at the fourth time of asking he could have projectile vomited into my lughole for all I cared!