Downs but not out

Before I go any further, a disclaimer. I had a personal interest in the outcome of this match.

I’ve been writing for the Isthmian League for almost a decade, and I’ve never had to make such an admission before, but today’s featured match, between fourth from bottom Hassocks and second from top Croydon Athletic, left me in something of a quandary. Normally I don’t find it difficult to sit on the fence when I’m watching our clubs- indeed I’m so good at neutrality that I could get a job as a United Nations peacekeeper (and let’s be honest, they could do with my help at the moment)- but today, things were different. As a Hassocks resident for more than a quarter of a century, my bias was showing. 

I didn’t ever expect this situation to occur. After all, if you’d told me as recently as three years ago that Hassocks would be an Isthmian club in the future I’d have looked at you as if you’d suggested that Donald Trump wasn’t orange. I mean, really? 

I first watched Hassocks around twenty five years ago, and after that I was an occasional visitor, perhaps watching the Robins half a dozen times a season until I became an Isthmian. During that period they regularly finished in the top half of the Sussex County League, and even once made it as high as fourth, but this was a village club, with the resources of a village club. 

It was always a lovely place to watch football. The backdrop- the ground is in the foothills of the South Downs- was beautiful, the clubhouse was always welcoming, the homemade bread pudding provoked nothing but joy, but there was, so far as I was concerned, as much chance of them reaching Step Four as there was of me winning slimmer of the year ( I refer you back to the bread pudding). On that basis, when they finished the 23-24 campaign in fifth place in the SCFL Premier, I was rather taken aback. Last season they swept to the title to earn promotion to our South East Division, and yet financially not much had changed. 

It remains rather astonishing. Boss James Westlake has improved the squad markedly without having much of a budget, whilst Chair Pat Harding- yes, that Pat Harding, although if you are a Burgess Hill Town fan you probably think that his first name is ‘Super”- has improved everything else, whilst the club ethos has remained exactly the same. 

Perhaps the biggest result of all that effort was an incredible rise in interest across the local community. Fourth from bottom of the table, but in the attendance league table they were eleventh, with an average gate of around three hundred and fifty. You hear people discussing the club in the village these days, and previously that was unheard of in this Brighton and Hove Albion/London immigrants enclave. On Easter Monday I’d decided to get a train to Lewes, and on the opposite platform was a sea of red. “Oh, Arsenal supporters,” I’d thought, before remembering that- of course- Arsenal weren’t playing. It then dawned on me that the Robins were away at Three Bridges, but when had Hassocks ever taken that many fans to an away match? It couldn’t be anything to do with that.

It was. 

Today’s match was crucial for the Robins, and yet only the most optimistic fans expected a positive outcome. Fourth from bottom with three matches left, their forthcoming opponents were the second place Rams, fifth place Sittingbourne and an Ashford United side who were in their best form of the season. All of their relegation rivals had far easier run ins. Despite that, the Hassocks Hotel Beacon Ground wasn’t downcast; indeed, there was a rather positive air about the place. Chairman Pat summed things up before the match, explaining that there were far worse things than relegation and that if they went down he was confident that they were in a good place to come back up. He was particularly proud of the number of youngsters who were now following the team, and indeed the under eighteen demographic was probably the largest present, which was astonishing in an area heavily populated with people of a much older age group (yes, I resemble that remark).

Anyway, back to the football. 

Athletic travelled with only one defeat from their previous nine matches, whilst their hosts had three wins and two defeats from their previous five, and had proved that if they were to go down they wouldn’t be doing it without a fight. The teams emerged to the strains of the Jackson Five (of course, Rockin’ Robin), and the hosts were in their usual red, the visitors in a mint green coloured shirt which had white numbers on the back; numbers which were difficult to see from distance. 

The sun had shown itself, but it was deceptive; a strong and chilly crosswind was bending back the corner flags, and the middle aged couple sitting in the stand eating ice cream were obviously made of strong stuff. A chap behind them was wearing a big coat and a wooly hat.

The visitors got us underway, and went straight on the attack. Rams number seven Kadell Daniel was looking particularly dangerous down the right, but his danger was only brief, as he came off worse from a 50/50 tussle with home skipper Harvey Blake on nine minutes and had to be replaced. 

The opening stages introduced two sides with rather different approaches. The hosts were all industry, long balls and long throws, the visitors less determined but displaying rather more flair. An effort from Harry Furnell was blocked for the Robins, and a gaggle of young home fans began banging a drum behind Amadou Tangara’s goal whilst jumping up and down, displaying the kind of youthful abandon which puts fear into those of us who get knee pain just from standing still, i.e most people over fifty. 

The ball was spending too long in the air, which seemed a little difficult to understand. Crosses and long passes from the stand side towards the clubhouse side were severely wind-assisted, regularly landing in different postcodes from those intended. Surely they should think about keeping it on the floor?

Athletic decided to do just that, and they took the lead with a stunner. Josh Williams cut inside his man and curled a fine left foot shot from the right of the box, leaving home keeper James Shaw with no chance whatsoever. The travelling fans behind his goal celebrated joyously. “You’re not bouncing anymore,” they sang, waving at the urchins at the other end. 

Goal: Hassocks 0 AFC Croydon Athletic 1, Josh Williams, 22 minutes

A minute later Reece Grant should have done better with a chance at the far post, and on twenty seven minutes the same player fired well over when the outcome perhaps might have been much different. Would they pay for those misses? As it turned out, they would.

Hassocks began to make an impact. ‘They are having plenty of possession but don’t look at all likely to score,’ was what I had just written when they, of course, scored. From seemingly nowhere up popped Zack Henry. He steadied himself and unleashed a fine strike which whizzed into the bottom corner, to delighted if rather high-pitched celebration from behind the goal. 

Goal: Hassocks 1 AFC Croydon Athletic ,1 Zack Henry 38 minutes

Three minutes later the hosts had another. A shot from the continually impressive Jack Troak was saved acrobatically by Tangara, but from the resultant corner the ball was headed back across the six yard box and up leapt Liam Benson to head home. 

Goal: Hassocks 2 AFC Croydon Athletic 1, Liam Benson 41 minutes 

The hosts remained on top as the first half ebbed to a close, and the half time whistle blew with the scoreline unchanged. 

A collection of very tiny robins entered the pitch, and were made to do press ups in the centre circle. For a moment it was like a toddlers boot camp. News came through that Erith Town were losing, as were Sheppey United, who would only be two points clear of Hassocks if results stayed the same.

Half Time: Hassocks 2 AFC Croydon Athletic 1

The visitors were out early for the second half, and they were soon on the attack, but then, disaster. A long ball from Shaw bounced twenty five yards out, and the visiting defender made a terrible hash of controlling it. In stepped Troak to dispossess him, and, after moving forward a couple of yards, he lifted the ball over Tangara into the back of the net. 

Goal: Hassocks 3 AFC Croydon Athletic 0, Jack Troak 52 minutes

Hassocks were suddenly full of confidence. A free kick was headed on, only cleared after a goalmouth scramble. Troak received the ball at the edge of the box, controlled it, and fired just wide. Elsewhere Three Bridges were two up and would be champions if the Rams failed to win, and at the moment that failure looked certain. 

The away fans tried to inspire their side with a South London version of ‘Take Me Home Country Roads’, although that might have caused confusion as there are undoubtedly no country roads in Croydon. Some of the visiting players were arguing with each other and certainly looked as if they’d embrace being taken home at this point. 

Benson and Troak combined. The latter shot, well over, and should have done better. Chairman Pat fetched the ball from its landing place in the nursery playground, on the hill behind the goal

‘We are staying up!’ trilled the home fans, although Erith had equalised at Merstham. 

Finally the ball was propelled up the other end. Williams was thwarted on the edge of the box, James Taylor fired over, and a free kick was drilled harmlessly past the back post. 

The game began to ebb to a close, and things got rather scrappy. In added time a melee on the clubhouse side touchline ended up with almost every player involved, and with a red card for the Rams Jerome Binnon-Williams. There were so many players involved I have no idea what he did, and in truth the outcome was already beyond doubt. 

Furnell was named man of the match, and he undoubtedly had a good game, but it felt a bit hard on Troak who, apart from that second half miss, had delivered a fairly perfect performance. That said, there were a number of players in the home squad who could have taken the crown, such was their dominance during the final hour of the game. 

Final score: Hassocks 3 AFC Croydon Athletic 1

The last time I wrote about a Hassocks match was back in 2014. The Robins had faced Ashford United in the FA Vase, and on a cold midweek evening had been hammered seven-nil. After the final whistle I’d spent five minutes chatting with skipper Ashley Marsh, who was so furious with the outcome that he’d decided to warm down- and calm down- on his own, admitting that he didn’t want to return to the changing room until he’d cleared his head. Once we’d had a debrief, he spoke with enormous affection about the club; explaining the dedication of the volunteers, and the loyalty of a squad who- at that point- didn’t even get paid expenses, never mind a wage. “Here, we play for love.” 

Twelve years later those words still rang true. This isn’t a squad full of non-league superstars, but it is a squad who fight for each other. In the first half, with the Rams ahead, a fan to my left uttered the phrase, “if only you could get points for hard work,” and his point was obvious. That’s the ethos of the whole place- hard work. On the pitch a number of players are long-serving, off it, many of the names I knew from way back when are still involved; the John family, particularly, have provided the backbone of this club for as long as I can remember, and Chairman Pat, for all the idolisation he gets further up the A273, made two hundred and eighty four appearances here, scoring an incredible one hundred and fifty six goals. 

That article I wrote back in 2014 had the title, ‘A Robin is for life, not just for Christmas.’ All these years later? 

Same bird, same feathers.