Collar Feeler
No longer feeling collars
- Jul 26, 2003
- 1,322
The Goldstone, Withdean, F****r and trainers.
So there I was, lying awake at 5AM, unable to sleep due to a combination of a skewed body clock courtesy of working a 24 hour shift pattern and an errant son who woke me up in the first place. Trying hard to get back to sleep my mind wandered into memories of The Goldstone Ground and I’m certain I must have been showing a wry smile on my face as I lay there in the dark. In fact I challenge any of you to just say the words, “The Goldstone Ground” out loud and see how it makes you feel! Personally it gives me a rather nice warm and comfortable nostalgic feeling now, a myriad of memories of past glories and hundreds of hours spent in the only football ground I can ever truly call home. And that’s what it was to me, a football ground, not a stadium or an arena or even a park, it was a good old English footy ground and I loved it.
What’s this got to do with trainers? Well I remember getting my first pair of proper trainers that I purchased with my own money. Money earned trudging the streets of Hangleton delivering newspapers up and down the estate. Diadora’s they were, all white leather uppers with a splash of green on them somewhere. Not top range Adidas one’s but not Dunlop green flash either, decent mid range trainers. Cool enough to blend in with the crowd bit not too flash to mark me out as a bit of a wanker, similarly not uncool to label me a member of the school maths and computer club who seemed to spend most of their time without girlfriends tinkering around with BBC micros. Those Diadora’s went with me to the Goldstone, they carried me there and jumped up and down with me when we scored, we witnessed the highs and lows throughout the 80’s and there were plenty of both! I loved those trainers, I loved the Goldstone, and the two are indelibly linked for me.
So onto Withdean or is it The Withdean? I don’t know, to be honest I don’t bloody care. It’s a shitpit ground that I hate. No redeeming features whatsoever bar the fact that the team I support play there occasionally. When a person says, “Goldstone” to me I am instantly transported back in time to New Road, Hove. When someone says, “Withdean” it simply conjures up images of posh mums driving Porsche Cayennes, mock tudor houses with steep gardens inhabited by people bereft of any concept of football whatsoever. Nestled in amongst this well off community is a quirky athletics stadium bastardised and given a 30 minute makeover into something almost resembling a football ground. I don’t get excited at the prospect of going there, It’s not mine, I don’t love it, go away Withdean leave me alone. The Goldstone was special, I used to love getting ready to go there. The excitement of getting a decent parking spot near the ground was just the start and smiling at the residents as they came out of their houses to join you enroute to the ground was normal. No orange jacketed little hitlers marauding around the outskirts and ambushing errant motorists for having the temerity to park on a public road. No exclusion zones, no no no no no NO NO NO argh NO, that’s what Withdean screams out of every crack and crevice. Going back to trainers it’s like receiving my brother’s hand me down Gola’s, I’m pleased that I’ve got them but they never really ever felt like my own. I mean they do a job and they are better than nothing but they stink of his feet and his fat spazzy toes have created enormous cavernous voids inside that my feet rattle around in. I wear them but they make me feel like a clown.
Where does this leave our new stadium then? I refuse to use the F word when I talk about the new stadium. The F word spews venom and bile at me whenever I read it. 14 bloody years of spite and mealy mouthed denial and objection I tell you! None of it matters any more though and I am in an almost Zen like state when I gaze longingly over Jack Straws weekly pictures of our superb new arch laden stadium rising from the ground in East Brighton. Will I get that same Goldstonesque excitement as I prepare to leave for the game? Will I develop a whole new set of Saturday routines to envelope myself in? Will I love this new stadium? Yes I think I probably will! As for trainers, its been years since I got excited about traipsing down to Churchill Square and getting a new pair of trainers but you know what come August 2011 I’ll be paying JJB Sports at the Goldstone a visit and I’ll damned well buy a new pair and as I walk out of that store I’ll be walking towards a new love affair with those trainers and our new stadium!
So there I was, lying awake at 5AM, unable to sleep due to a combination of a skewed body clock courtesy of working a 24 hour shift pattern and an errant son who woke me up in the first place. Trying hard to get back to sleep my mind wandered into memories of The Goldstone Ground and I’m certain I must have been showing a wry smile on my face as I lay there in the dark. In fact I challenge any of you to just say the words, “The Goldstone Ground” out loud and see how it makes you feel! Personally it gives me a rather nice warm and comfortable nostalgic feeling now, a myriad of memories of past glories and hundreds of hours spent in the only football ground I can ever truly call home. And that’s what it was to me, a football ground, not a stadium or an arena or even a park, it was a good old English footy ground and I loved it.
What’s this got to do with trainers? Well I remember getting my first pair of proper trainers that I purchased with my own money. Money earned trudging the streets of Hangleton delivering newspapers up and down the estate. Diadora’s they were, all white leather uppers with a splash of green on them somewhere. Not top range Adidas one’s but not Dunlop green flash either, decent mid range trainers. Cool enough to blend in with the crowd bit not too flash to mark me out as a bit of a wanker, similarly not uncool to label me a member of the school maths and computer club who seemed to spend most of their time without girlfriends tinkering around with BBC micros. Those Diadora’s went with me to the Goldstone, they carried me there and jumped up and down with me when we scored, we witnessed the highs and lows throughout the 80’s and there were plenty of both! I loved those trainers, I loved the Goldstone, and the two are indelibly linked for me.
So onto Withdean or is it The Withdean? I don’t know, to be honest I don’t bloody care. It’s a shitpit ground that I hate. No redeeming features whatsoever bar the fact that the team I support play there occasionally. When a person says, “Goldstone” to me I am instantly transported back in time to New Road, Hove. When someone says, “Withdean” it simply conjures up images of posh mums driving Porsche Cayennes, mock tudor houses with steep gardens inhabited by people bereft of any concept of football whatsoever. Nestled in amongst this well off community is a quirky athletics stadium bastardised and given a 30 minute makeover into something almost resembling a football ground. I don’t get excited at the prospect of going there, It’s not mine, I don’t love it, go away Withdean leave me alone. The Goldstone was special, I used to love getting ready to go there. The excitement of getting a decent parking spot near the ground was just the start and smiling at the residents as they came out of their houses to join you enroute to the ground was normal. No orange jacketed little hitlers marauding around the outskirts and ambushing errant motorists for having the temerity to park on a public road. No exclusion zones, no no no no no NO NO NO argh NO, that’s what Withdean screams out of every crack and crevice. Going back to trainers it’s like receiving my brother’s hand me down Gola’s, I’m pleased that I’ve got them but they never really ever felt like my own. I mean they do a job and they are better than nothing but they stink of his feet and his fat spazzy toes have created enormous cavernous voids inside that my feet rattle around in. I wear them but they make me feel like a clown.
Where does this leave our new stadium then? I refuse to use the F word when I talk about the new stadium. The F word spews venom and bile at me whenever I read it. 14 bloody years of spite and mealy mouthed denial and objection I tell you! None of it matters any more though and I am in an almost Zen like state when I gaze longingly over Jack Straws weekly pictures of our superb new arch laden stadium rising from the ground in East Brighton. Will I get that same Goldstonesque excitement as I prepare to leave for the game? Will I develop a whole new set of Saturday routines to envelope myself in? Will I love this new stadium? Yes I think I probably will! As for trainers, its been years since I got excited about traipsing down to Churchill Square and getting a new pair of trainers but you know what come August 2011 I’ll be paying JJB Sports at the Goldstone a visit and I’ll damned well buy a new pair and as I walk out of that store I’ll be walking towards a new love affair with those trainers and our new stadium!
