Club AVRO - Lancaster Club
As you may have noticed, I have taken a little hiatus from Blogging. Spending the summer in Tanzania and moving to the wonderful city that is York for University put a temporary pause on all things 'the last bus to Bromley Cross', I suppose it should be called 'the last train to York' now? However, do not fear as the Easter vacation allows me to restart somewhat. Despite doing a large number grounds this season (largely in and around the York area) I will not be Blogging those, instead I will open again with last weekend's dive into Step 11 for Tadcaster Magnets game against Malton and Norton.
For now though, please enjoy this Blog I wrote but did not publish. A trip with podcast colleagues Gibbo and Rob:
Bizarre. An adjective I want to use to describe my pre-season outings. For that’s what pre-season football is for me, an opportunity to use bizarre as a catalyst for random ‘ticks’. The informal nature of these early fixtures results in random games, on random days, at random venues. So, you can understand my rather overly keen attitude towards the potential of a Thursday night game at a new ground for me in a town I had never heard of. The keenness went into overload when my friend Mr Joseph Gibbons revealed to me the host’s name – AVRO FC. One word, bizarre.
Summer football is a term phrased by Gibbo – when it’s sunny, warm, generally nice, exploit this and invest your time in the lower leagues: the Manchester League, the Cheshire League etc. Sun bathe by the side of the pitch, ice cream in one hand, beer in the other. Essentially, relax.
AVRO v Maine Road on a Thursday night had the potential to fit the above criteria perfectly. However, the weather had thwarted this – instead of investing money in ice-cream, a new waterproof would have been more suitable as rain bounced down into the heart of the Lancaster Club – a green, suburban oasis that houses Manchester Premier Division side AVRO.
Since finishing my A2 (A-Level) examinations I have been busy. This is what I wanted as I find myself bored easily – as shown by some of my recent Snapchat updates. Whether it be work, jobs around the house or restoration at Colls’ newly named ‘Kensite Stadium’, time is limited. This was no different on that miserable Thursday night.
More recently I have become quite active in the Labour Party. On that Thursday afternoon I planned to meet Andy Burnham at one of his 'members' meetings' as he seeks to persuade members to vote for him in his bid to become mayor of Greater Manchester. After listening to him discuss his plans for our great region, I can safely say that he had my vote!
Anyway, enough of politics. What I’m trying to get across is that this was indeed another busy day. After the conclusion of the meeting, and a quick shake of Mr Burnham’s hand – who, by the way, approved of my Atherton Collieries’ jacket – I ran, literally ran, for my bus back into Bolton. For a ‘young person’ I am unfit. So unfit. My ankle needs a doctor and my body needs a personal trainer so by the time I staggered onto the Bus I was breathless and sweaty. Nice, I know.
A quick change in Bolton saw me board the number eight into Manchester – a delightful route that takes you on a tour of all of South Bolton’s, Salford’s and North Manchester’s beauty spots, the centre of Farnworth a particular favourite of mine.
It was once in Manchester that the fun really started, I met up with my two companions for the evening. The sun had broken through, at the time this was promising, as I made my way across Exchange Square, through the Printworks and into one of three Manchester Wetherspoons, the Seven Stars, where I met friends Gibbo and Rob McKay (Secretary at the rather posh and clearly ‘indie’ West Didsbury and Chorlton). Rob was surrounded by a sea of empty Krombacher bottles whilst Gibbo supped on Spoons’ finest filter coffee. I joined in with Rob and got myself a pint of Tubourg with time to spare before our tram. Rob put out a very polite tweet as he informed everyone of his company that evening, to be honest I don’t think I would’ve been able to put it better myself.
One quick and easy tram journey from the industrial beauty of Victoria to the suburban heights of Failsworth soon followed and we found ourselves in the heart of North East Manchester. We do get about, don't we?
However, it was after reflection that we realised we didn’t actually know where we were going. Luckily, Rob kept a cool head and solved the problem for us. Whilst he loaded up his Maps, Gibbo and I took the opportunity to take some moody but very arty farty pictures – try and spot it, if you do you win a used Metrolink ticket.
As we negotiated our way through the streets of Failsworth I suddenly realised I was a little hungry. Luckily, this sudden feeling of hunger struck with the ‘Old Road Chippy’ coming into sight. A portion of chips later (with the option of Donner Meat, very traditional) and the heavens had opened.
Rainfall that would not look too dissimilar in the rain forest planted itself on the three of us. We needed shelter, quick. Luckily Rob and I had brought our waterproofs, Gibbo didn’t. Our luck ran out though as the rain that fell in biblical proportions, making our waterproofs look a wasted investment. It just wouldn't stop.
As the three of us musketeers swam our way towards the ground, with monsoon like conditions still present, we decided we needed to take shelter. The Lamb Inn would do. Now, a fitting word to describe this place would be traditional. It was nice enough, and had a very good taste of music, but to be honest I was pleased to leave when we did with ten minutes to go until kick off and the ground around the corner. Traditional was as complimentary as it got for that place.
The rain had stopped, briefly, as we concluded our journey and after one wrong turn (it wasn’t my fault, honest) we found ourselves at the Lancaster Club just as the whistle was being blown.
Manchester Premier Division side AVRO ply their trade at the Lancaster Club in Failsworth, a location with its own very unique and distinctive history. The place and the Football Club as a whole have strong links to aircraft, especially the planes used both in the First and Second World War.
Before the 1950’s the Lancaster Club was known as Failsworth Lodge – a lucrative mansion with acres upon acres of land, those fields now make up the playing fields of AVRO FC and the mansion, the club house – quite literally one of the poshest and nicest club houses in non-league football.
As for the link with aircraft, well a gentleman going by the name of A.V Roe (getting it?) once built his own plane, the first ever British designed and built aircraft in 1909. As he turned out to be pretty decent at this he started to produce aircraft for the war – most notably the Avro Anson and the famous Avro Lancaster (bomber). Sir Roy Dobson, AV Roe’s work manager purchased Failsworth Lodge in 1936. In 1950 the lodge was converted into a clubhouse for the use of employees of Avro’s (now BAe systems) and became known as the Lancaster Club. So there we go, the Football Club’s origins lie in one Man’s dream to build a plane. You couldn’t make it up!
The ground itself was interesting, to be honest I was surprised at how basic it was, after all this is the Premier Division of the Manchester League we’re talking about. The three of us held an emergency meeting and figured that the actual first team pitch was opposite this, it looked exactly the same but with dugouts, apart from that the two were identical so, before anyone says anything, THIS IS A TICK!
Down both sides of the pitch were hard standing rails, behind either goal no railing could be found. The right side of the ground acted as an entrance to the ‘great forest of the Lancaster Club’. The overhanging trees on this side actually proved to be very useful in the first half as they provided the only shelter within the ground.
With the pita patter of rain still clubbing itself against the hood of my waterproof, Rob, Gibbo and I made our way around behind the goal to take shelter as the game ticked over into its opening minutes. Unlike other folk at the game we hadn’t even considered buying umbrellas or anything of the sort, we were amateurs, but we didn’t care, for standing under a tree to shelter from the rain added to the experience. I decided that tonight would be all about character development.
Maine Road, from the NWCFL Premier Division, fielded a very young side that Thursday afternoon, clearly a few trialists.
By the time of the interval Maine Road found themselves 2-0 to the good, and deservedly so. The young Sky Blues seemed to have just an extra yard on the more experienced AVRO side.
The first goal came from a corner (I think, or a free kick, hey, what does it matter?). Either way, it was a header bulleted into the back of the rather deceptive black netting. Initially, I thought the goal had no netting at all, I feared this was a whole new level of tin pottery, however, my fears were quashed as we passed the goal on the way to God's shelter and there was indeed netting in the goal.
The second goal was a simple tap in for the Maine Road XI. Good work on the left saw the AVRO keeper make a good save, only for the ball to be deflected into the path of the forward who tapped into the empty goal.
During the half time break, we thought we'd explore the Clubhouse a little. Rob had sped off before us in his attempt to beat the other ten in attendance to the urinal. As a result, we got lost, really lost. We opened door after door but could not make sense of the place, or whether we should actually be there. After accidently coming across the wintery hills of Narnia we found Rob and he directed us to the bar. It seemed nice, it was nice, very grand. But we did not feel very welcome. This was evident when Gibbo and I were quizzed about taking pictures by a young lad. The dangers being a Blogger presents, eh?
The second half was more of the same, competitive.
Maine Road scored their third of the game midway through the half as the Mancunians lobbed the ball over the onrushing AVRO keeper.
The Manchester League side did offer something in the way of a response though as they netted a cracking goal as the game started to become less and less interesting. A long range bottom left hand corner effort had the 11 in attendance shocked into applause. A great finish indeed.
As the British Summer rain sprayed into my face, I began to question my existence. Such thoughts escaped my head however as Maine Road netted their fourth, rounding off what had been a good outing for them; substitute ‘Derek’ getting the goal.
As the game reached its conclusion and the Full Time whistle had been blown we turned and made our exit towards the now familiar Failsworth Metrolink station. There was a sense of urgency (my ankle, remember?) as Gibbo had a train to catch with only limited time to get back over to Victoria – if missed a 70 minute wait greeted him.
Gibbo did eventually accept the fact he missed the train. In the end he missed it only by seconds. My train, on the other hand, had ten minutes until its departure, so as I waved my companions goodbye I made my way up to the McDonalds next to the arena, call it a treat. Once I ordered my BigMac (naughty, I know) I got a phone call, it was Gibbo. Confused, I answered. It turned out he would be getting the train with me, getting off at Bolton where a lift would then take him home.
The journey home was eventless, the only highlight coming when Gibbo was asked to share his chips with a drunken girl from Clitheroe. He duly obliged. She seemed satisfied, thanking us several times as she stumbled to the back of the train.
As Thursday evenings out in Failsworth go, this wasn’t a bad one. A place and team I had never heard of visited.
This afternoon out, this tick, epitomises pre-season. A time to get out, explore and take advantage of the higher profile opposition and earlier kick offs. The Lancaster Club is one for to save for summer, I feel. A nice enough place but not a lot to it.
UPDATE:
AVRO's recent Twitter activity would suggest that the Club will soon be moving grounds, I don't know where, and I don't know when. So, if you like the look of this place, get it ticked soon!
For now though, please enjoy this Blog I wrote but did not publish. A trip with podcast colleagues Gibbo and Rob:
Bizarre. An adjective I want to use to describe my pre-season outings. For that’s what pre-season football is for me, an opportunity to use bizarre as a catalyst for random ‘ticks’. The informal nature of these early fixtures results in random games, on random days, at random venues. So, you can understand my rather overly keen attitude towards the potential of a Thursday night game at a new ground for me in a town I had never heard of. The keenness went into overload when my friend Mr Joseph Gibbons revealed to me the host’s name – AVRO FC. One word, bizarre.
Summer football is a term phrased by Gibbo – when it’s sunny, warm, generally nice, exploit this and invest your time in the lower leagues: the Manchester League, the Cheshire League etc. Sun bathe by the side of the pitch, ice cream in one hand, beer in the other. Essentially, relax.
AVRO v Maine Road on a Thursday night had the potential to fit the above criteria perfectly. However, the weather had thwarted this – instead of investing money in ice-cream, a new waterproof would have been more suitable as rain bounced down into the heart of the Lancaster Club – a green, suburban oasis that houses Manchester Premier Division side AVRO.
Since finishing my A2 (A-Level) examinations I have been busy. This is what I wanted as I find myself bored easily – as shown by some of my recent Snapchat updates. Whether it be work, jobs around the house or restoration at Colls’ newly named ‘Kensite Stadium’, time is limited. This was no different on that miserable Thursday night.
More recently I have become quite active in the Labour Party. On that Thursday afternoon I planned to meet Andy Burnham at one of his 'members' meetings' as he seeks to persuade members to vote for him in his bid to become mayor of Greater Manchester. After listening to him discuss his plans for our great region, I can safely say that he had my vote!
Anyway, enough of politics. What I’m trying to get across is that this was indeed another busy day. After the conclusion of the meeting, and a quick shake of Mr Burnham’s hand – who, by the way, approved of my Atherton Collieries’ jacket – I ran, literally ran, for my bus back into Bolton. For a ‘young person’ I am unfit. So unfit. My ankle needs a doctor and my body needs a personal trainer so by the time I staggered onto the Bus I was breathless and sweaty. Nice, I know.
It was once in Manchester that the fun really started, I met up with my two companions for the evening. The sun had broken through, at the time this was promising, as I made my way across Exchange Square, through the Printworks and into one of three Manchester Wetherspoons, the Seven Stars, where I met friends Gibbo and Rob McKay (Secretary at the rather posh and clearly ‘indie’ West Didsbury and Chorlton). Rob was surrounded by a sea of empty Krombacher bottles whilst Gibbo supped on Spoons’ finest filter coffee. I joined in with Rob and got myself a pint of Tubourg with time to spare before our tram. Rob put out a very polite tweet as he informed everyone of his company that evening, to be honest I don’t think I would’ve been able to put it better myself.
However, it was after reflection that we realised we didn’t actually know where we were going. Luckily, Rob kept a cool head and solved the problem for us. Whilst he loaded up his Maps, Gibbo and I took the opportunity to take some moody but very arty farty pictures – try and spot it, if you do you win a used Metrolink ticket.
As we negotiated our way through the streets of Failsworth I suddenly realised I was a little hungry. Luckily, this sudden feeling of hunger struck with the ‘Old Road Chippy’ coming into sight. A portion of chips later (with the option of Donner Meat, very traditional) and the heavens had opened.
Rainfall that would not look too dissimilar in the rain forest planted itself on the three of us. We needed shelter, quick. Luckily Rob and I had brought our waterproofs, Gibbo didn’t. Our luck ran out though as the rain that fell in biblical proportions, making our waterproofs look a wasted investment. It just wouldn't stop.
As the three of us musketeers swam our way towards the ground, with monsoon like conditions still present, we decided we needed to take shelter. The Lamb Inn would do. Now, a fitting word to describe this place would be traditional. It was nice enough, and had a very good taste of music, but to be honest I was pleased to leave when we did with ten minutes to go until kick off and the ground around the corner. Traditional was as complimentary as it got for that place.
The rain had stopped, briefly, as we concluded our journey and after one wrong turn (it wasn’t my fault, honest) we found ourselves at the Lancaster Club just as the whistle was being blown.
Manchester Premier Division side AVRO ply their trade at the Lancaster Club in Failsworth, a location with its own very unique and distinctive history. The place and the Football Club as a whole have strong links to aircraft, especially the planes used both in the First and Second World War.
Before the 1950’s the Lancaster Club was known as Failsworth Lodge – a lucrative mansion with acres upon acres of land, those fields now make up the playing fields of AVRO FC and the mansion, the club house – quite literally one of the poshest and nicest club houses in non-league football.
As for the link with aircraft, well a gentleman going by the name of A.V Roe (getting it?) once built his own plane, the first ever British designed and built aircraft in 1909. As he turned out to be pretty decent at this he started to produce aircraft for the war – most notably the Avro Anson and the famous Avro Lancaster (bomber). Sir Roy Dobson, AV Roe’s work manager purchased Failsworth Lodge in 1936. In 1950 the lodge was converted into a clubhouse for the use of employees of Avro’s (now BAe systems) and became known as the Lancaster Club. So there we go, the Football Club’s origins lie in one Man’s dream to build a plane. You couldn’t make it up!
Down both sides of the pitch were hard standing rails, behind either goal no railing could be found. The right side of the ground acted as an entrance to the ‘great forest of the Lancaster Club’. The overhanging trees on this side actually proved to be very useful in the first half as they provided the only shelter within the ground.
With the pita patter of rain still clubbing itself against the hood of my waterproof, Rob, Gibbo and I made our way around behind the goal to take shelter as the game ticked over into its opening minutes. Unlike other folk at the game we hadn’t even considered buying umbrellas or anything of the sort, we were amateurs, but we didn’t care, for standing under a tree to shelter from the rain added to the experience. I decided that tonight would be all about character development.
Maine Road, from the NWCFL Premier Division, fielded a very young side that Thursday afternoon, clearly a few trialists.
By the time of the interval Maine Road found themselves 2-0 to the good, and deservedly so. The young Sky Blues seemed to have just an extra yard on the more experienced AVRO side.
The first goal came from a corner (I think, or a free kick, hey, what does it matter?). Either way, it was a header bulleted into the back of the rather deceptive black netting. Initially, I thought the goal had no netting at all, I feared this was a whole new level of tin pottery, however, my fears were quashed as we passed the goal on the way to God's shelter and there was indeed netting in the goal.
The second goal was a simple tap in for the Maine Road XI. Good work on the left saw the AVRO keeper make a good save, only for the ball to be deflected into the path of the forward who tapped into the empty goal.
During the half time break, we thought we'd explore the Clubhouse a little. Rob had sped off before us in his attempt to beat the other ten in attendance to the urinal. As a result, we got lost, really lost. We opened door after door but could not make sense of the place, or whether we should actually be there. After accidently coming across the wintery hills of Narnia we found Rob and he directed us to the bar. It seemed nice, it was nice, very grand. But we did not feel very welcome. This was evident when Gibbo and I were quizzed about taking pictures by a young lad. The dangers being a Blogger presents, eh?
The second half was more of the same, competitive.
Maine Road scored their third of the game midway through the half as the Mancunians lobbed the ball over the onrushing AVRO keeper.
The Manchester League side did offer something in the way of a response though as they netted a cracking goal as the game started to become less and less interesting. A long range bottom left hand corner effort had the 11 in attendance shocked into applause. A great finish indeed.
As the British Summer rain sprayed into my face, I began to question my existence. Such thoughts escaped my head however as Maine Road netted their fourth, rounding off what had been a good outing for them; substitute ‘Derek’ getting the goal.
As the game reached its conclusion and the Full Time whistle had been blown we turned and made our exit towards the now familiar Failsworth Metrolink station. There was a sense of urgency (my ankle, remember?) as Gibbo had a train to catch with only limited time to get back over to Victoria – if missed a 70 minute wait greeted him.
Gibbo did eventually accept the fact he missed the train. In the end he missed it only by seconds. My train, on the other hand, had ten minutes until its departure, so as I waved my companions goodbye I made my way up to the McDonalds next to the arena, call it a treat. Once I ordered my BigMac (naughty, I know) I got a phone call, it was Gibbo. Confused, I answered. It turned out he would be getting the train with me, getting off at Bolton where a lift would then take him home.
The journey home was eventless, the only highlight coming when Gibbo was asked to share his chips with a drunken girl from Clitheroe. He duly obliged. She seemed satisfied, thanking us several times as she stumbled to the back of the train.
As Thursday evenings out in Failsworth go, this wasn’t a bad one. A place and team I had never heard of visited.
This afternoon out, this tick, epitomises pre-season. A time to get out, explore and take advantage of the higher profile opposition and earlier kick offs. The Lancaster Club is one for to save for summer, I feel. A nice enough place but not a lot to it.
UPDATE:
AVRO's recent Twitter activity would suggest that the Club will soon be moving grounds, I don't know where, and I don't know when. So, if you like the look of this place, get it ticked soon!
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| Approach to Manchester |
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Manchester |
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Failsworth |
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| Mr McKay negotiating the streets of Failsworth in the pouring rain |
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| Rather traditional pre-match setting |
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Approach to the Lancaster Club |
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| Lancaster Club |
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| Lancaster Club |
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| Clubhouse |
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