Chapter 1.
30th April 2011.
St James Park- Exeter City v Plymouth Argyle.
"What a load of flipping cack"
"Patterson at right wing? Terrible."
"Another ***** referee"
It wasn't just an average match for anybody concerned. The Devon Derby was always something special to the Green Army. From Buster Phillips last minute goal at St James Park in 2001, to Bradley Wright-Phillips double 9 years later, this game had something about it. Every derby is of vital importance to player, fan manager but it didn't get bigger than this one down in Devon. It was judgement day for us. It was our biggest game of the season, it was the must-win derby. After being docked 10 points, relegation into the Football League's bottom division seemed certain. But Peter Reid was trying to work something special, and the scenes at MK Dons last Monday was something I'll never forget. There was a real belief we could pull off a Great Escape, even though our players weren't getting a sniff of a pay-cheque. If we lost here, it was almost over. You felt if we didn't get at least a point, the relegation trap-door would pull us in on Monday. It was in some ways a relief we couldn't be relegated today, how humilating would it be if we were relegated against our biggest rivals? Even so, the pressure was on us.
It was my first visit to St James Park [Nicknamed, St Sids, by Argyle fans] and my god, what a shithole. Toilets dating back from the 15th century, a bruised food-stand which was past its sell-by-date and 1500 Argyle fans cramped into a small roofless, standing, away end. I remember my Dad telling me- And on the pitch, it wasn't much better. We were made to look second best for a majority of the match, and moments into the 2nd Half, we had the embarrasement of going a goal down. A goal down to a team who we looked down on while we were 4th in the Championship, as they struggled on in the conference. The team, who only pulled 3000 fans a week, who had **** support, 6 toes, a stadium falling to pieces.. Had we really sunk this low? We tried in vain to save ourselves. But as every single decision went against us, the frustration kicked in. We knew there was no coming back. For all the struggles off the pitch, and everything we had faced, this was almost just as bad. How had we fallen this far? Are we really now, the 2nd best team in Devon? As the full-time whistle blew, we all took one look at our surrondings. St Sids Park. 5000 Exeter Fans who would never forget the day, they took their crown as Devons Top Dog. Vera Lynn blasted out over the out-dated PA system, my thoughts were, will we really meet again? As survival on the pitch went down to Mondays match against Southampton, things off it looked so much worse.
A 20 minute walk back to the railway station, felt like centuries. The police stopping us at every oppurtunity, it felt like they rubbing salt in our wounds. We trudged along, listening the moans of supporters, every decision scrutinised by deep-down.. angry and embarrased fans. We were heading in one direction. Down the Football League, taking every embarrasing hit on the way. The joy we got from December's league win against 'The Scum' was gone. From there, it was down-hill. We had grazed our knee's down this hill, but now we've banged our heads. Could I really be supporting Devon's 2nd best team? I couldn't get my head around it.
As I took my seat on the train, I just wanted to try and forget all about it. I tried to fill myself with the hope 6 points from our remaining two fixtures would complete a magical great escape. It was around half past 3, I checked my phone.....
"For **** Sake!", I shouted across the carriage.
Everybody kind of stopped for a moment, and took a moment of their time to look at me.
"Dagenham and Walsall are ******* winning, what a **** day in this ******* shithole." Well that had really completed our day. Not only had we gone and lost to our biggest rivals, but the teams around us were really fighting for survival. At 15:33 on April 30th 2011, I knew we would be playing in League 2 next season. No great escape, no pitch invasion on the final day and no best team in the west. The chronic failure associated with this team was killing me. Knowing, had it not been for those devious 7 back-stabbing bar-stewards, we would of had our best players, had those 10 points, and maybe just maybe pushing for a playoff position. We would of had our club, we would of had our pride and our staff would have some pay.
The administration process had crippled us. Took us below the level of Exeter City. Made a joke of our once proud club. You may have won the battle Exeter, but one day, I don't know when, we'll be back to win the war. The statement was loud, the statement was clear- Whatever twists and turns that happen, whatever the Administrator wants to do us, whatever Exeter City have to say about us, and no matter how many relegations we get....
We are Plymouth Argyle, and we'll never die.
30th April 2011.
St James Park- Exeter City v Plymouth Argyle.
"What a load of flipping cack"
"Patterson at right wing? Terrible."
"Another ***** referee"
It wasn't just an average match for anybody concerned. The Devon Derby was always something special to the Green Army. From Buster Phillips last minute goal at St James Park in 2001, to Bradley Wright-Phillips double 9 years later, this game had something about it. Every derby is of vital importance to player, fan manager but it didn't get bigger than this one down in Devon. It was judgement day for us. It was our biggest game of the season, it was the must-win derby. After being docked 10 points, relegation into the Football League's bottom division seemed certain. But Peter Reid was trying to work something special, and the scenes at MK Dons last Monday was something I'll never forget. There was a real belief we could pull off a Great Escape, even though our players weren't getting a sniff of a pay-cheque. If we lost here, it was almost over. You felt if we didn't get at least a point, the relegation trap-door would pull us in on Monday. It was in some ways a relief we couldn't be relegated today, how humilating would it be if we were relegated against our biggest rivals? Even so, the pressure was on us.
It was my first visit to St James Park [Nicknamed, St Sids, by Argyle fans] and my god, what a shithole. Toilets dating back from the 15th century, a bruised food-stand which was past its sell-by-date and 1500 Argyle fans cramped into a small roofless, standing, away end. I remember my Dad telling me- And on the pitch, it wasn't much better. We were made to look second best for a majority of the match, and moments into the 2nd Half, we had the embarrasement of going a goal down. A goal down to a team who we looked down on while we were 4th in the Championship, as they struggled on in the conference. The team, who only pulled 3000 fans a week, who had **** support, 6 toes, a stadium falling to pieces.. Had we really sunk this low? We tried in vain to save ourselves. But as every single decision went against us, the frustration kicked in. We knew there was no coming back. For all the struggles off the pitch, and everything we had faced, this was almost just as bad. How had we fallen this far? Are we really now, the 2nd best team in Devon? As the full-time whistle blew, we all took one look at our surrondings. St Sids Park. 5000 Exeter Fans who would never forget the day, they took their crown as Devons Top Dog. Vera Lynn blasted out over the out-dated PA system, my thoughts were, will we really meet again? As survival on the pitch went down to Mondays match against Southampton, things off it looked so much worse.
A 20 minute walk back to the railway station, felt like centuries. The police stopping us at every oppurtunity, it felt like they rubbing salt in our wounds. We trudged along, listening the moans of supporters, every decision scrutinised by deep-down.. angry and embarrased fans. We were heading in one direction. Down the Football League, taking every embarrasing hit on the way. The joy we got from December's league win against 'The Scum' was gone. From there, it was down-hill. We had grazed our knee's down this hill, but now we've banged our heads. Could I really be supporting Devon's 2nd best team? I couldn't get my head around it.
As I took my seat on the train, I just wanted to try and forget all about it. I tried to fill myself with the hope 6 points from our remaining two fixtures would complete a magical great escape. It was around half past 3, I checked my phone.....
"For **** Sake!", I shouted across the carriage.
Everybody kind of stopped for a moment, and took a moment of their time to look at me.
"Dagenham and Walsall are ******* winning, what a **** day in this ******* shithole." Well that had really completed our day. Not only had we gone and lost to our biggest rivals, but the teams around us were really fighting for survival. At 15:33 on April 30th 2011, I knew we would be playing in League 2 next season. No great escape, no pitch invasion on the final day and no best team in the west. The chronic failure associated with this team was killing me. Knowing, had it not been for those devious 7 back-stabbing bar-stewards, we would of had our best players, had those 10 points, and maybe just maybe pushing for a playoff position. We would of had our club, we would of had our pride and our staff would have some pay.
The administration process had crippled us. Took us below the level of Exeter City. Made a joke of our once proud club. You may have won the battle Exeter, but one day, I don't know when, we'll be back to win the war. The statement was loud, the statement was clear- Whatever twists and turns that happen, whatever the Administrator wants to do us, whatever Exeter City have to say about us, and no matter how many relegations we get....
We are Plymouth Argyle, and we'll never die.
authors notes- Thanks for reading. Any comments on improvement etc, feel free to post. The actual game-play will start atfer Christmas, for now, just a small little introduction/build-up. Thanks!