The Hull Monty - What a Show!
A memorable game from the archives, as reported by BILL THE BIRO
Hull City 0 Pools 3 (Division Three)
Saturday 6 May 2000
Boothferry Park
It's the final day of the season, and it's too close to call. There's only one playoff place still up for grabs.
If Cheltenham win at
Southend, they've clinched it.
If not then Pools or Torquay
could overtake them, but our
adverse goal difference
makes us the outsiders. There
is also an extreme outsider in
Rochdale who need to score a
shedful, and hope we all lose
— a bit of a tall order. Never having been to
Boothferry Park, I get out my footy grounds book, which tells me that it has the unique feature of six tall floodlight pylons, which make it very easy to find.
I set off at 9.30 for the 150-mile trek. A subsequent
motorway stop for a pastie and
orange squash allows the
opportunity of memorising the
route to the ground. Nearing
the City of Kingston-upon-Hull, the memory feat proves
to be no great shakes when I
find myself on the very road
which had been specifically
warned against. However,
finding myself following a car
decorated with a blue-and-white scarf, I relax and follow
it. It tums off left. I turn off
left. It indicates right at the
next roundabout. I do likewise.
I'm already indicating left to
leave the roundabout when I
realise he's going back the way
he came, because he's lost too. There then follows a half-hour
voyage of discovery, trying to
pick up clues: looking out for tall pylons; reading bus
destination blinds; avoiding the
city centre, etc., but eventually
the target is reached and I park
up in a nearby street, and walk
to the ground.
Now those pylons are indeed
six, and they are indeed tall
(about half as tall again as
ours), and their tops can be
seen from a long way off.
Which is why the nearby street
ends up not being as nearby as
originally envisaged.
However, with the ground
reached, at 1:30 I phone the
Monkey Business Postal
Service to find out when and
where the promised supplies
will arrive. 'Ah!' comes the
reply, clearly telling me that
the two copies I brought with
me will be the only ones on
sale today.
Pools shirts are much in
evidence by 1:45 (as are Hull
shirts, no doubt in anticipation
of today's coming of their new
Messiah, Brian Little).
I start to sheepishly offer my
vast stock for sale, but only at
sufficient volume to be audible
to passing Pools fans. One says
‘Which way is the chip shop
mate? Oh, Monkey Business!
Sorry mate.’ I like to think he
meant 'Sorry for bothering
you.'
One MB is sold to a Hull fan,
despite my explanation of what
it is. The other is a bit sad on
its own so I give up, phone the
people I'm meeting, and find
that they're only 40 yards away.
 |
| Boothferry Park -the highlight of the season? |
It's now quarter past two, and we decide to go in. The away end already looks half full.
Inside, Boothferry Park looks
to be another ground that
remembers the days when it
was up there with the big
grounds, but only just! A
modern stand at one end, an
overhanging building serving
as a shallow roof for the rear of
the other end, an elderly stand
one side and an equally elderly
covered terrace roof on the
other. And two large stretches
of terracing which for very
obvious safety reasons are
unused.
The teams come out to warm
up and still the blue stripes
keep coming. Doubt is
expressed that the away end
will be big enough.
Hull City choose the occasion
to do their player of the year
presentations, and to introduce
the new manager, all to
commendable (and unusual)
restraint from H'Angus. He
shows off his trick of balancing
a football on his bald patch to
anyone bored enough to look.
Phones and radios are all
prepared for the main event.
The word is that Turner is
going for it, 3-4-3, with three
strikers.
"Brains are being fried by hundreds of mobile phones. Daughters are under strict instructions to phone, the second that Cheltenham's score changes"
Kick-off time comes. The
massed Poolies are now all up
for it and the volume goes on
boost. And they're off straight
away, Pools are buzzing and
looking hungry.
The away end goes wild when
someone scores at the other end
(Who scored? Dunno!). The
stewards (who all look like
nightclub bouncers, not the
weeds that most clubs have)
eject a Pools fan for something
or other.
Radio listeners report that
Cheltenham have gone one up. 'That's us finished then.
Nobody comes back against
them!'
Then we get another. ‘Who
scored? Who cares!' More
Pools fans are ejected. The
home fans are stunned. This
was going to be the first day of
a new life.
Tommy is all over the place.
Clarky keeps running at them
and round them, and the front
three are tying Hull's defence
in knots.
Torquay have gone into the
lead. Then Darren Knowles
goes down and has to be
carried off. Arnison comes on
and things look hardly any
different. The game is so one-sided, we could almost sub
Hollund for another outfield
player.
On twenty-nine minutes,
disaster strikes. A late Strodder
tackle is seen by the well-sighted (and well overweight)
Mr. Stretton, and the red card is
straight out.
Graeme Lee then
walks nonchalantly back to
take over, and the game again
continues as if nothing had
happened.
Seven minutes on, and there's
yet another goal. ‘Who scored?
We did!' More early
departures.
The Hull terrace fans, who
have been taunting us by
holding up a hanging monkey
(guaranteed to wind a Poolie
up), then receive the serenade 'Ten men, and we're still three
up.'
Half-time. That first-half
performance was magnificent.
Every radio and phone is in use
to find out the other relevant
scores. Cheltenham are
drawing and Torquay are
behind, so we are now
favourites.
The second half is as expected.
Hull at least try to attack,
although without troubling our
defence at all, and our forwards
still cause all sorts of problems.
Brains are being fried by
hundreds of mobile phones.
Daughters are under strict
instructions to phone, the
second that Cheltenham‘s score
changes.
A couple of substitutions
replace the overworked strikers
towards the end, Coppinger and
Henderson having run themselves
into the ground. Again, the
changes don't disrupt the
pattern. No danger of
conceding a goal, but still
trying to score another.
Two minutes from the end, a
roar goes up, followed by
panicked switching on of
phones and radios for
confirmation that Cheltenham
are losing.
Full-time, and it's party time!
The p.a. system confirms the
results. Then, punching the air,
Clarky leads the team out to
celebrate with the fans,
knowing that it's Darlo in the
playoffs. And if we can again
play like this, then Wembley
here we come!
[This Bizz report first appeared in issue 50 of August 2000. Doesn't seem like 20 years ago. And Pools lost to Darlo in the playoffs]