Caledonia Dreaming or Ian38018 Sporting Travels: ABAX Stadium

Peterborough 2-2 Bradford City

1st December 2018

Performing my traditional, if occasionally rather cursory, pre-visit research on this one, I was pleased to note the encounter brought together two Scottish managers. There are (as of December 5th 2018) just eight across the four top flight English leagues. A far cry from those distant days when the likes of Sir Matt Busby and Bill Shankly would square off. Indeed, as recently even as 2011, seven Premiership clubs were managed by Scots. Today there are none.

This afternoon's combatants were, in the Blue Corner, Steve Evans - the former St Johnstone forward whose most notable previous job, it could be argued, had been a turbulent twelve month stint at Leeds United. Whilst in the Red Corner, we had David Hopkin, whose rather higher profile playing career had also included a stint at Elland Road, during which he had won his seven Scotland caps.

Evans currently has five fellow Scots in his squad but, I noted, none had been selected to start this afternoon. Although Jason Naismith, Mark O'Hara and former Hibs' striker Jason “I Love Me. Who Do You Love?” Cummings were each selected for the bench.

By contrast, Hopkin's sole fellow countryman Paul Caddis, started at right back for Bradford - with the former Celtic player swiftly making his impression upon the match. Or to be strictly accurate, making a impression upon Siriki Dembélé's legs. For he clattered into the young Ivorian, with barely five minutes gone, picking up a yellow card in the process.

Peterborough's Rhys Bennett and Joe Ward.

David Ball - Bradford City.

Panorama of ABAX Stadium, Peterborough.

The Motorpoint Stand.

Peterborough enjoyed the better of the early play, with the ball barely leaving the Bradford half in the opening quarter of an hour or so. But, in perhaps a prescient glimpse of what was to come, the first attempt on target during the match actually came from the visitors' Kelvin Mellor.

Posh did deservedly take the lead in the 29th minute, Ivan TONEY coolly finishing off a devastating counter-attack. And 1-0 became 2-0, seconds before the break, when the aforementioned Siriki DEMBELE completed yet another swift move down the Bradford right, guiding the ball past visiting 'keeper Richard O'Donnell.

Bradford, perhaps inevitably, upped their game in the second half, but both their shooting and crossing was so equally wayward and aimless, I personally could see no way back for the Bantams.

At least not until Calvin MELLOR, with just six minutes remaining, bashed one in from 25-plus metres out. One could almost feel the self-belief leach out of the home lads immediately afterwards. And, from what looked to my eyes anyway, exactly same spot, Luca COLVILLE fashioned an unlikely injury-time equaliser. Although his strike, unlike his colleague's, did require the aid of a deflection to wrong-foot home keeper Aaron Chapman.

So: a midweek visit to the fleshpots of West Yorkshire to look forward to for the Posh support. A trip which really should not have been required.

Inside the Main (North) Stand.

The main stand was erected back when folks were on average perhaps a couple of inches shorter?
It really was a bit of a tight squeeze.

But the seats were comfy enough.
You just don't get character like this at grounds these days.

I am guessing this is Peter Burrow on the right, but who his friends are, I have no idea,

We had a chap take ill during the match. I did not take any pics of him, as I was unsure just how unwell he was. But he did produce quite the most impressive amount of vomit I think I have ever seen. The medics sorted him out fairly promptly, and he was led away unsteady on his feet, but otherwise looking OK.

This lad above was the real star of the show, being left to clean up what looked like a gallon of sick, with just a bucket, some antiseptic spray and a fistful of paper towels. Well done, that man.

The London Road Terrace.

Busy bods in the security centre.

ABAX Stadium, Peterborough.

Panorama of ABAX Stadium, Peterborough

My Man-of the Match (for what it was worth) was Bradford's diminutive Jack Payne. Although not everything he tried came off, he always attempted to be both imaginative and inventive, and never stopped cajoling his team mates when it looked as if one or two of them were beginning to think it was not going to be their day.

Best for the home side I felt was Alex Woodyard – he strolled through the match (those final six minutes aside), even if his distribution was a touch wayward at times. I also liked Marcus Maddison, who persisted in making a real nuisance of himself to the Bradford defence.

ABAX Stadium (or London Road Stadium, as was)

Around ten miles west of Peterborough can be found the village of Fotheringhay where, in the great hall of the castle which once stood there, Mary Queen of Scots was executed in 1587.

Like most Scots I am quite ambivalent about the lady. I can appreciate that, back in those testosterone fuelled times, being a woman was a difficult enough. Without the added complications of attempting to rule a country. But she did not help herself by making some very bad decisions - not the least being her choice in men. She was also unfortunate to be a Roman Catholic whilst the Reformation was in full flow in Scotland.

That being said, the notion that the last queen of my country was executed by an English monarch does rankle a tiny bit. Those were brutal times certainly, but even back then, the act of regicide was considered just not cricket.

Nevertheless, I drove out to Fotheringhay to see what remained of the place. The answer being: little. Other than the earthen mound (or motte) upon which the castle once stood, and a chunk of what I took to be wall.

A touch hackneyed, I know, but I brought half a dozen red roses which I tossed onto the remaining brickwork, in some sort of recognition. But in truth I found the experience stirred nothing within me. Indeed, the sight of a pair of flat hedgehogs on the road next to where I had parked moved me more.