Meadowbender's Trip To Barnet

Meadowbender tells all.

Of all my internet aliases my proudest is MeadowBender – a visitor to Hereford United’s unofficial forum Bull’s Banter. I would not count myself as a Hereford United fan, however, I have frequented the Meadow End on occasions. But when I got the opportunity to go watch a relegation six-pointer away at Barnet yesterday I snapped up the chance. Partly because the coach was free and it was only a fiver to get in for students, and partly because if Hereford lost they would be everything but mathematically relegated; I was going with my friend Dave and didn’t want to miss watching him crying on the terraces.

So I jumped on a coach leaving Ledbury at half 2 and settled down next to some bloke who was talking me through the past decade in the history of Hereford United. He showed me the replica strip he was wearing: “if you look closely you can see that there is another name printed underneath that they stripped off and reprinted over the top because the club are that tight”. Next a blind Hereford fan who was on our bus wandered down the aisle to go to the toilet. After struggling down the steps in front of us he turned round smiling: “I bet you never thought you’d bring a f...ing ref along with you”.

We got to Barnet about an hour before kick off. I had been told the ground was ‘rustic’ however I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Set in the belly of a valley the only thing you could see were four spindly ‘Subutteo’ floodlights. The ground looked as if it was barely above six feet tall. With an hour to kill we decided to pop to the bookies where I bet heavily on the draw: 1-1 and 2-2. When we returned to the ground we were funnelled into one side of the ground which we shared with the Barnet fans – split halfway down by four stewards and a flimsy net. We piled down by that net partition along with the most vocal Hereford fans.

The game kicked off announced by the voice on the loud speaker as the most important game of Barnet’s season. We knew it was Hereford’s as well. This was going to be attritional; we were definitely in for a passionate affair. And ten minutes in and were going wild as the right back whipped in a lovely cross and the centre forward leant on his man and buried his header. We went wild. I was squeezed up against the stewards as everyone rushed the Barnet fans. The place was going mental, and rightly so this could be the most important goal of the season. Dave had ran about five metres and under a barrier just to stand on the railings at the front giving it the YMCA even though the Hereford players were celebrating on the other side of the pitch. He f...ing loves Hereford United. I got a kiss off him when it all settled down. That was the highlight of my evening to be fair.

Though not controlling the game, both teams failed to string many passes together throughout the whole game – probably why both are in the positions they are – Hereford were on top for the first half an hour, but one long punt put their centre forward, the highest goalscorer in the league, through. The left back came across and made a world class sliding block, however, it fell kindly to their other striker who stuck it in the bottom corner from about ten yards. Cue Barnet’s turn to go wild; they duly obliged.

The second half was a scrappy affair which neither side controlled. The ball spent more time in the air than a Boeing 747. However, the two best chances fell to one of the Hereford subs. He f...ed them, royally, but what did you expect. The second chance with less than 10 to go was a clear one-on-one with the goalkeeper which he fired straight at him. The rebound fell straight back to him however, and with the keeper on the floor he managed to fire it straight at the covering defender on the line. I’ll tell you now he is dogs..t.

So a point apiece was how it ended, Barnet were probably more the happier with it; I was six quid up and delighted. And then the long journey back home to the Shire began. Tired, I settled down to listen to people moaning about the photograph the Hereford club photographer had taken of the clearance of the line. He had been touting it around at the final whistle and apparently it showed the defender hand-balling it on the line; I’ve since checked, it doesn’t. They had just about finished bitching about it when we stopped at Reading services. I had a large Americano, and chewed down three Benny Hedgehogs in fifteen minutes and ended up nearly blowing chunks on the bus. All in all it was a great day out, but one I won’t ever be repeating again. Hereford United ain’t half a f...ing awful football team to watch.

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