HARROWBY UNITED  V     BOURNE TOWN

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 14TH 2017

Competition: United Counties League, Division One

Ticket price: £5

Programme: Free

Attendance: 62

Half time score: 2-0

Full time score: 3-0

Bird species: 55

Mileage: 195

Trip music: None 

THE BIRDS

Quite a leisurely day is planned today, with Tottenham Tim driving us to deepest, darkest Lincolnshire. We seem to have been to this county quite a few times this year; they are having a real purple patch!

The Pochettino Polo arrives to pick me up at 0800 sharp and we hit heavy traffic both around Newark and Lincoln before we get a free run through rural Lincs to Covenham Reservoir. We arrive at 9.15am and are pleased to find sunny, clear conditions, if a little nippy in the strong breeze. We are soon on our way through a gate and up some wooden steps to the banks of the exposed reservoir.

Our main target of the day is a Red-necked Phalarope, which has been present for the last three days. It favours the south-east corner of the water; of course, the car park is in the north-west corner, quite a walk round the path!

A quick scan reveals three birdwatchers across the other side of the reservoir but they don't seem to be looking at anything in particular. The sinking feeling deepens when we meet another guy on the circuit: he hasn't seen 'The Phal' either!

There's nothing for it but to trudge round to the far corner to confirm the worst for ourselves. On the way, we put up many Meadow Pipits from the lush grass surrounding the reservoir. A determined Sparrowhawk is trying to flush birds from a distant hedge without success as far as I can tell.

On the water, Mallard, Gadwall, Shoveler, Goldeneye and Wigeon are all seen but I cannot pick out the regular Slavonian Grebe amongst the flocks. Nor am I able to see a small, pale blob on the choppy water in the south-east corner. Things are not looking good!

I scan at regular stops as we draw ever closer to the phalarope hot spot but still cannot see the target bird. However, when we reach the corner, there's the delicate little wader bobbing up and down on the surface, as if to say "what took you so long?"

Red-necked Phalarope on its favourite patch of scummy water

A Redshank occasionally scuttled along the concrete basin.

We spend the next hour watching this amazing bird as it feeds on the turbulent surface. It barely moves ten yards from its favourite area of scummy water. It is amazing to think this little bird breeds in the Arctic and spends our winter in the Sargasso Sea. Even more incredibly, the only Red-necked Phalarope currently GPS tagged was found to overwinter on the coast of Peru, flying straight across the Atlantic Ocean, across land and into the Pacific Ocean. Birds are brilliant and amazing!!

I have to be honest that by the time I have watched the bird for that length of time, I am feeling quite seasick; the effect of intensely studying a small pale dot riding the waves for sixty minutes! It's a good job I am not a phalarope!!

Various people turn up to see this lovely bird and I ask each one if they have seen the Slavonian Grebe. None have. However, one couple have found some Snow Buntings, so we set off to try and find them. On the way, we scan each flock of ducks to see if the 'Slav' is among them but still draw a blank. We find a Pintail and a few Little Grebes sheltering behind the water tower but that's about it.

Over on the north side, approaching the car park, we hit upon the two Snow Buntings. They show well on the concrete bank of the reservoir, picking off seeds from the sparse vegetation. Although they show well, the light is harsh and the birds are very mobile. Like all Snow Bunts, they are delightful!

Snow Buntings finding rich pickings among the weeds

As we are about to pack up, a last scan of the water reveals the Slavonian Grebe drifting past us! I fire off a couple of disappointing record shots in appalling light but 'scope views are perfectly adequate. We have a full house of Covenham target species to send us on our way!

Sorry, it's the best I could do!

It is now time to make a decision. One option is to head to Norfolk to try and make it a two phalarope day. We decide, however, to take things a bit more serenely and head for one of the best reserves in the country: Frampton Marsh RSPB.

We pull into the car park at 2.00pm. By all accounts, there has been no sign of yesterday's Lapland Buntings (another lifer for Lowlister Tim) but I can see there are birds everywhere on the reserve. The plan is to visit all the hides before heading to a game but in the end, the birding's so good, we only make it up the access road and along the seawall!
First up, is a huge Peregrine sat on a tussock on the marsh. We watch it preening before Tottenham Tim instructs me to take a photo of the Stonechat posing on reed stems behind us. Yes sir! It does pose nicely but a touch of sun on this stunning bird wouldn't go amiss.

Poser! But a bit of sunshine wouldn't have gone amiss.

Suddenly, all the Wigeon take to the air in a panicking swirl. I glance at the Peregrine's perch and it has gone. The raptor is on the hunt but try as I might I cannot pick it out in the maelstrom. Suddenly, the falcon appears on the marsh in front of us with a female Wigeon it its talons. We spend the next hour watching it rip its catch to pieces, being entertained by a Carrion Crow who sidles up now and again to try and pinch a piece of meat. It is very wary of the Peregrine!

"It's mine! Don't even think about trying to pinch it!"

Two Carrion Crows pick over the scraps of what was once a Wigeon.

When there is nothing left of the Wigeon, we move on towards the seawall. The pools either side of the path are covered in birds. Black-tailed Godwits, Wigeon, Shovelers, a few Pink-footed Geese and lots more are duly scanned and noted. A wonderful flight of Whooper Swans fly over our heads, heading to roost on the main pool. What a magnificent sight; so magnificent that I forget to swing my camera into action happy to just enjoy the show!

Drake Shoveler in very poor light. One of my favourite ducks.

The sun goes down on Frampton Marsh to end a highly enjoyable day's birding in Lincs.

There is just about enough light to climb the sea bank and scan the marsh beyond. A few Meadow Pipits are flitting about but on first glance that's about it. I espy a raptor sitting on a post in the very far distance and try and decide what it is. The only thing for it is to walk closer and hope it stays to clinch the ID. It looks too small for a Buzzard and something not quite right for it to be a Kestrel.

We stop and look every 100 yards but it isn't until we get reasonably close (it is still quite a way off on its chosen perch!) that I can see it is a female Merlin. What a bonus!
The Merlin eventually takes off and flies low across the marsh to perch again on a grassy tussock. The head pattern can be seen a bit more easily now but the light is fading fast. It's a nice end to the day: another lifer for TT and a bonus yeartick for me. Frampton has done us proud once more.


THE FOOTBALL

A leisurely drive through Lincolnshire brought us to Grantham. The only thing you need to know about Grantham is that it was voted the Most Boring Town in Britain. I often wondered if this was harsh but Tottenham Tim used to live here and confirms the award is anything but exaggerated!It's also the home town of Margaret Thatcher, so all in all, Grantham has absolutely nothing going for it.

Except it is the home of Harrowby United, a team I have neglected to visit up until now. This is strange being as Dickens Road, home of Utd. is only about twenty miles from my house. It's an embarrassing gap on my Grounds List.

Harrowby United play in the United Counties League, Division One. Tonight's visitors are Bourne Town, so it's a local derby. Ish. After my visit tonight, I only need one more in this league to complete the two divisions: just Olney to go.

The SatNav leads us down a street in a housing estate. Just as TT thinks we have gone wrong, we happen upon the ground at the end of the street. Despite it being only November 14th, some houses are showing Christmas decorations in the windows. I have no qualms with this but Tottenham 'Mr. Scrooge' Tim is horrified and baffled in equal measure.

We park the car behind one goal. Thankfully, a very tall net protects vehicles from stray footballs. As soon as we get out of the car, it starts to drizzle. I pay £5 at the entrance shed and am handed a free, four page photocopied programme. The only content is club histories of tonight's teams. It's a poor effort for a Step 6 club but at least it's something for 'paperchasers' to hoard.

The lights are on and somebody's home!

The grotty entrance to the clubhouse is not very inspiring but it is pleasantly cosy within. I am not sure having the jukebox on at the same time as Emmerdale and a sports round-up on TV all at the same time is necessary, though. Also in the clubhouse is a man with tonight's teamsheets, so I take the opportunity to snap them so I know who I am watching.

It's now time for the customary circuit of the stadium. It definitely falls into the 'Ramshackle Charm' category: my favourite sort of venue. Spectators enter the ground in one corner, with the clubhouse and teabar on the same side, complete with an overhang for shelter. The bench-seat stand is found on the opposite side and both ends behind the goals are open.

The derelict area behind one goal.

The metal fence behind the goal has taken a right battering from wayward shots"!

The players trudge onto the pitch and we are all set to go. One of my greatest bugbears at football is late kick-offs. Bear in mind that at most matches, players and officials are on site at least 70 - 90 minutes before the start, so there is no excuse for starting a game later than scheduled. Tonight, the players are two minutes late onto the pitch. Instead of hassling them to start, the referee allows Bourne to have another mini-training session. And then they have the pathetic group hug. Is that it? No, they then start to dance around again and I crack. "JUST GET ON WITH IT!!!!!!!!" I shout from behind the goal. Everyone looks around, including the referee and the nearby Bourne keeper who seems startled. We finally kick off four and a half minutes late! (Note:TT swears blind that what I actually shout is "Just f*****g get on with it but I deny the charge!).

The shout must have really startled poor Alex Brown in Town's goal because he nervously allows a gentle United cross to float into his net after just twelve minutes. He's about 6ft 4 ins, so it's a bad error at any level. Tottenham Tim pins the blame firmly on my exasperated shout before kick off, anyway. Brown's night gets worse when he brings down Sam Grouse (ideal Twitch and Pitch name, there Sam!) for a penalty. Grouse fires in the spot kick for a home 2-0 lead.

Alex Brown at least manages to collect this ball safely. His night got worse very quickly...

The second half sees Bourne spiritedly attempt to get back into the match but cannot break through a solid looking United defence. At one point, the ball sails high over the retaining net behind the goal and I hear a thud as it hits a car. I jokingly tell TT that it is his Polo that's been dented. 

The visitors' fightback is halted when Harrowby score their third on the breakaway. As the ball is cleared from a Town attack, Sam Grouse cleverly flicks the ball over his defender and races clear to calmly stick the ball in the net past Brown. The finish is made even more impressive by the fact the scorer is being fouled most of the way on his run inexorably towards goal!

Harrowby should have scored more but it remains at three. The game ends on a very sour note when 

Bourne's defender Aaron Jesson suffers a broken leg in the 89th minute. Sam Grouse is the United player involved but as TT and I see it, it looks like an unfortunate accident. Grouse races past his defender yet again, while riding an attempted foul. As the attacker races down the line, he is nudged off balance by his defender and in an attempt to rescue the ball, he makes contact with Jesson's leg. The noise this contact makes is not a pleasant sound and Aaron is obviously in some pain. Grouse is sent off for the challenge and fans, players and benches become involved in a shouting match. The referee blows for full time and TT and I make our exit before things escalate.

While discussing the incident, Tottenham Tim notices a mark on his boot door. The muddy imprint is unmistakably one made by a ball. My earlier joke turns out to be true: that wayward ball did hit the Pochettino Polo!

This was a decent match spoiled by the bad injury at the death. It was also a successful birding trip: another two Lifers for TT!!

The muddy imprint of a ball can clearly be seen on Pochettino Polo!

The rather European looking club crest