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[graffitibarcelona]

[graffitibarcelona]

[farukkutlu]

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NART DESTANLARI #farukkutlu #Kaflas #adige #abhaz #cecen #osset

[yytv18-blog]

Gary Stansfield

2016 11 15 Ossett Albion v Farsley Celtic

[yytv18-blog]

Tadcaster Albion TV

Highlights: Ossett Albion 2-5 Tadcaster Albion

[yytv18-blog]

Tadcaster Albion TV

Highlights: Ossett Town 3-1 Taddy

[fcumad]

Osset Town 1 v 7 (Seven) FC United of Manchester:

Now a few weeks back, a wonderful weekend in Manchester. I booked this one without knowing there would definitely be any football on. Until recently FC werent allowed to play on the same day as city, due to their proximity. A home tie in the cup would have put the kibosh on any plans to see a game. Work, Sankt Pauli, other commitments, the fixture list, means my trips to Manchester will be few and far between this year. When the idea of us all going to Ramsbottom Festival came up, it seemed like a good excuse and I sorted flights.

We got tickets for the first night, and so were in Sinclairs on the cheap lager by mid-afternoon on Friday, before a few pints in the Shamrock and then up to Ramsbottom. I’m not that fussed on festivals, but this one was really good. Low bellend count, pleasant security, really decent scran and erm...free beer. The best bit was that the whole thing took place right next to Ramsbottoms football ground, which brought back all sorts of happy memories of the Reds getting promoted there one spring afternoon in 2007.

We watched two bands in the end, Slow Readers Club and Public Service Broadcasting. Slow Readers Club have appeared once at Malcolms, back when we still held our home games at Gigg Lane. I’d moved to Germany by then, but everyone raved about them then. I didnt really get it when watching them back on youtube, but live was a different thing. They played so tight, and, seemingly in front of a home crowd, the atmosphere was brilliant. By the time they played „Block out the sun“ there was pure elation in the tent. Next up was Public Service Broadcasting. Again my friends have banged on about them for ages and Ive never been that fussed. I guess I was always bothered by the lack of singer. On the night though they were superb. Pretty much the entire set was verging on danceable, merging from the indie that I expected to something more electronic. Although there is an element of nostalgia in the subject matter, the music kind of drew attention to the level of innovation and aspiration that previous generations held. The first ascent of Everest, the cutting edge design of the spitfire, truly amazing times. Now in the decade we live, where fake „realness“ and populism not only rule but are cherished, it was refreshing to feel genuine excitement at the playback of the first manned orbit of the moon. Despite my incompetence in the area, I couldnt help thinking how amazing science is. I didnt really expect that from a concert!

Saturday, hungover, we got up early, went to Koffee Pot for a breakfast, and then met the Giddys on the train platform. The train was so full there was standing room only (a subject that dominates current affairs in the UK at the moment), but fortunately we werent going that far. In fact once we arrived in Dewsbury, the pub was literally on the station platform. We spent the late morning in the sunshine, enjoying a pint or two.

After a taxi over to Ossett, we hung up our flags on the far side of the ground, and enjoyed a very decent game of football. FC have been struggling, as they do every year at this stage in the season. I expected us to win, but wasnt expecting quite that sort of scoreline. Osset Town’s ground isnt quite as nice as that of Albion’s with their club house by the cricket pitch, but they had decent food, you could take your pint into the ground and we got a decent atmosphere going under the tin roof. That the stand we were under was built on some old ship containers was certainly novel.

Post-match we went drinking nearby, but after some lower grade mither, it was clearly time to move on. We headed back to Dewsbury and then on to town. The night ended in the early hours, at a stage where I could no longer drink beer, and had ceased to be able to speak properly. The Sunday journey home was traumatic, but it had been worth it.