Martin Voller goes on the road with Brentwood and comes away inspired by their team spirit.
Sky Sports and other broadcasters often make a point of showing football teams arriving at stadia in spacious, luxurious coaches. I don’t know about you, but I’ve often wondered what goes on amongst players before a game. What exactly do they talk about on their way to a match? What’s the atmosphere like? Well, I got to find out…kind of.
But don’t get too excited. I wasn’t with Jose Mourinho and the Chelsea squad discussing team selections and the January transfer window. Instead, I travelled with non-league club Brentwood Town as they made the five hour round trip to Norfolk to face Wroxham.
Since Brentwood play in Ryman League Division One North, the eighth tier of English football, I didn’t expect to be sitting on a lavish coach with HDTVs and Wi-Fi. And I was right – it didn’t even have a toilet.
But I was hoping for a fair amount of banter – and I wasn’t disappointed.
It began before the coach had even left. A midfield duo took some stick over their appearance. One had a few lines shaved into his head. ‘What have you gone and done that for?’ He replied that they were go-faster stripes and that ‘research has proved’ they work.
The other had, to put it lightly, a heavily bronzed face. ‘What happened to you?’, chorused almost the entire squad. He claimed his new moisturiser was to blame. ‘That’s got to be worthy of a fine,’ came the riposte. Even the manager joined in.
And so the banter continued…
As the coach departed those at the back got out a portable speaker and put some music on – loud. What was on the playlist? You might have expected a series of up-tempo tracks to put the team in the mood for the match. Instead they chose ‘I Heard It Through The Grapevine’ by Marvin Gaye – a song about breaking up and loss of motivation. They clearly weren’t concerned about being psyched up.
Similarly with the refreshments on offer. Instead of antioxidant smoothies and protein bars, they had just a few bottles of juice and a bag of jelly babies to pass round.
Many of the 16-man squad were chatty, while some opted for sleeping, reading, listening to music, or in one striker’s case, watching The Lego Movie. (I’m not going to say a word about the alleged mental age of footballers.)
There was a lot of talk about where the team should go for its end of season holiday. Options included Marbella, Ibiza or somewhere in Portugal. But one player made it perfectly clear he didn’t care where they went, as long as it had ‘girls and a beach’. (So no comments, please, about ‘one track minds’.)
Speaking of foreign countries, I couldn’t help overhearing, ‘Is Jerusalem in Turkey?’ (I said I wasn’t going to say anything about the footballing mentality.)
Onwards into Suffolk, and a toilet stop in the grounds of The Magpie. ‘Grounds’ being the operative word. The pub had closed down; the toilet block was as derelict as the main building. You can work out the rest.
Less than an hour later and the team was all but desperate to arrive at Wroxham’s ground, which rejoices in the name of Trafford Park. At this point the players reminded me of a group of school children. ‘How many miles is it now?’, they kept asking. I was half-expecting ‘are we there yet?’
When we eventually reached the ground, the team went off to prepare while I went to find warmth.
The match itself was closely fought until the final whistle – far more entertaining than the 1-1 score line suggests. But this isn’t a match report, so I’ll get off the pitch and back onto the coach.
But before I do, I should mention the generous hospitality on hand after the players had given their all for 90 minutes: a plate of chips, beans and a cheese and onion pasty. Oh, the glamour.
The return leg of the trip began in darkness. It was quieter (no music playing). Everyone was tired and almost certainly disappointed that they hadn’t managed to do what they came for – win the match.
They still had a laugh, though; mostly at the expense of one player who had a little tantrum after he was substituted. ‘Headloss,’ I think they called it; but nobody really lost his head and came to blows.
Both before and after the game, I was surprised by the lack of seriousness or tension. But I must say I liked the relaxed environment.
Much like their coach, there was nothing lavish about this group of players. Yet in their own way they shared a kind of nobility.
Martin Voller is Rising East‘s Non-League Football Co-Editor.
Contact: martin.voller@live.com. Twitter: @VollerMartin