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Friday night at Prenton Park and Sunday Afternoon at Old Trafford

Published by Ian John on March 22, 2010

You’d occasionally be forgiven for thinking that life outside of the FA Premier League doesn’t exist in football terms. This elite group of nineteen of the best teams in the country, and Hull City, are the be-all and end-all of footballing life for many people across the globe. They haven’t heard that there is life outside of the rarified confines of the exulted Premier League. It does exist though, I’ve seen it with my own two eyes and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

You see, on Friday I decided to take my son to his second Tranmere Rovers game. Tranmere Rovers are currently sitting just above the relegation places in League One. That is two divisions below the Premier League. That doesn’t sound much but in football terms, the gulf should be measured in light years. It wasn’t always the case, Tranmere flirted with promotion to the Premier League three years in a row when they were in the division that is now called “The Championship”. Three years in a row we (I use the possessive because they are my local team and it is my duty to support them) quaified for the play offs. Three years in a row we went out at the semi final stage in a sea of tears, angush and general disbelief. Since then we’ve fallen from grace somewhat and now languish at the foot of league one, fighting tooth and nail for survival.

However, compared to our start to the season, that is a big plus. We had former Liverpool legends John Barnes and Jason McAteer in charge for the first few months of the season and they presided over the worst run of results and performances in Tranmere’s living memory (and believe me, that is some achievement) that saw us rock bottom of the table and dead-certs for relegation. So bad was the form that we sacked them and appointed our physio as the new manager. Since then results and performances have improved but we still are paying the price for that dismal start.

So Friday night saw us welcome Hartlepool United to Prenton Park. Fellow strugglers like us, we were hopeful of three points after being somewhat spanked 4-1 by Leeds United in our last home game.

To say the game was dire would be an understatement. Both sides played crippled with the fear that defeat could see them tumble into the relegation zone if results were to go against them. The crowd (around 6500) was flat and listless, the play uninspiring and consisting mainly of who could punt the ball furthest upfield and make the least number of mistakes. The only quality on show was in the hot-dog my son ate during the first half which he described as “yummy”. After 90 frustrating minutes of hoof ball, the game ended 0-0. We trudged home somewhat unfulfilled and wondering when someone in the Tranmere team may hit upon the idea of trying to kick the ball to a team mate, rather than just punting the ball 50 yards towards the opposition goal.

Come Sunday, it was all a bit of a change really. I watched Fernando Torres and Steven Gerrard take to the field at Old Trafford against Wayne Rooney and co. The weekly wage of the three players combine probably enough to pay the quarterly wage bill of both Tranmere and Hartlepool combined, with enough left over to buy everyone in the crowd one of the yummy hot dogs. I saw teams passing the ball to each other, movement off the ball and fantastic finishing. Sadly, it was Manchester United doing most of it as they earned a deserved 2-1 victory.

But somehow I yearned for Prenton Park and Bas Savage failing to win a header all evening and Ian Goodison miskicking the ball. Instead of worrying about the £16m Liverpool may need to find if they wish to sack Benitez and all his staff, I found myself more concerned with how Les Parry, our new manager at Tranmere, was going to spend the £11,000 that the clubs fans had raised as part of “Les Aid”, an initiative aimed at giving the Tranmere manager some funds in order to bring in a player on loan for the crucial last few weeks of the season.

So yes, the Premier League is glamorous and wonderful. The game is played at a high level by the highest paid stars and some of the worlds best footballers.

But the heart of the game beats at grounds like Prenton Park on a wet, windy Friday night in a dour 0-0 draw between two sides who’s main intents and purpose was to kick the ball so high and hard that the leather would eventually freeze and fall off.

And the day that stops beating, is the day football dies.

Oh, and Wayne Rooney may be the better footballer, but Bas Savage would murder him on the dancefloor too… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZssQkHfFjw&feature=fvw]

And if you are wondering, yes the roadsign does exist. It is about a mile away from my house and has often been commented upon…

Image Courtesy of ***stonemouse*** on Flickr.com

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