BESSACARR  V     HARWORTH MW RESERVES

SATURDAY, APRIL 17TH 2021, 12.00 NOON

Competition: Central Midlands League, Division One North

Ticket price: £0

Programme: n/a

Attendance: 12

Half time score: 1-1

Full time score: 2-2

Bird species: 27

Mileage: 173

Trip music: Radio 6 Music; Earth by Ed O'Brien 

GLAPWELL        V        SHEFFIELD RESERVES

SATURDAY, APRIL 17TH 2021, 4.30PM

Competition: Central Midlands League, Division One North

Ticket price: £0 (Donations)

Programme: n/a

Attendance: 78

Half time score: 1-1

Full time score: 1-2

THE BIRDS

I am gradually easing myself out of Lockdown number, erm, whatever we've reached now! Spectators are allowed at lower level football as long as it is taking place on public owned land. On a day when 300 people are permitted into an enclosed hall to watch snooker, football clubs and their fans have to decide whether the venue they are joining 20 - 30 other people in the outdoors to watch The Beautiful Game is on public land or private land. Oh yes, no club with spectators is allowed to charge an entrance fee. It is, even in a bonkers world, truly crazy!

    I choose two matches in the Central Midlands League, Division One North and then set about picking a birding venue to visit in the morning. St. Aidan's RSPB is a site that should provide me with a few yearticks: not difficult being as I have hardly been out of my village since last December!

    It is a gloriously sunny morning when I arrive at 9.30am after an easy journey north from my Nottingham home. Even though I am a member of the RSPB, and need to display my membership card on my dashboard, I apparently still need to print off a ticket as well. This seems to be a waste of paper and electricity to power the machine. It isn't working anyway, so it is all a bit tiresome.

    Plonked at the side of the car park is a ginormous piece of industrial equipment called a Bucyrus Erie 1150-B Walking Dragline Excavator. I know some people are thrilled by such things but not me. However, it means visitors cannot get lost on the huge reserve because the big lump of metal is visible from everywhere.  Follow your way back to the 1150-B and you are at the car park!

Bucyrus Erie 1150-B Walking Dragline Excavator!

   

    A Little Owl sometimes sits in the compound of the metal giant but it's not there when I look. I pass the closed visitor hut and make my way onto the reserve. It is quite a steep hill down to the marshes and lakes but the path is wide and solid (as are all paths on the reserve making it ideal for wheelchair users. Regular benches along the way are also useful for less able-bodied visitors to rest up). Signs ask dogwalkers to keep their pesky shithounds on a lead to avoid disturbing ground-nesting birds. Needless to say the first two animals I encounter are running free in the grass, putting up Reed Buntings and Skylarks. Sigh.

   

Panoramic view of St. Aidan's from the visitor centre

    The reserve is alive with birdsong and bird calls from the marshes. Reed Buntings are everywhere and a few Skylarks brighten the sunny morning further with their joyous song. Canada and Greylag Goose cronks are less pleasing to the ear and Black-headed Gulls can hardly be classed as tuneful but the whole soundscape is wonderful.

    There are thousands of Black-headed Gulls settling down to breed on the various pools. One island explodes in a whirlwind of white as the gulls noisily take to the air. I quickly scan for a raptor causing the 'dread' but can't find anything.

    I scan one shallow pool and see a pair of Shoveler sleeping at the back. A closer scan reveals a drake Garganey fast asleep in the thick grass. The light is poor, the bird is distant but the head pattern is very obvious: my first Garganey of the year.

    I pause to try and see a singing Reed Warbler in reeds by the path but only catch fleeting views. A Bittern 'booms' from deep within the reedbed: what a wonderful, almost subliminal sound.

    The paths are busy with runners zipping past at speed. I don my mask to avoid aerosols spreading in their considerable wake! The Bittern is booming at regular intervals now; every bird seems to be in song. What a morning to be alive (and I cannot help but think of the 150,000 fellow Brits who are not alive to be able to experience sights and sounds such as this any more thanks to a hugely incompetent Government populated by charlatans promoted far beyond their minuscule abilities).

    A side path takes me to a couple of small, reed-lined lakes. Pochards are present in good numbers, glowing beautifully in the perfect light. A Cetti's Warbler startles me when it bursts into song from the gorse bush I am standing next to: deafening!

    The main species of interest at St. Aidan's is Black-necked Grebe. This rare breeder famously resides on the reserve and I see at least six gorgeous birds. Bench seats along the path allow excellent views of the grebes for patient birders and photographers alike. 

    I sit down (getting hot now: I am definitely over dressed!) and am rewarded by a pair of Black-necks just in front of me. Even my little bridge camera manages a shot or two, though I somehow manage to screw up the light settings. Useless.

    

Black-necked Grebe resplendent in the morning sun

    

    After basking in the sun while watching the birds on the perfectly-lit pools, I suddenly realise I have quite a walk back to the car. I set off towards the giant Excavator, panting like a dog off a lead. I am so unfit after lockdown! More Cetti's Warblers, Reed Buntings and Reed Warblers serenade my hot walk back up the hill to the car park.

    On the way, I try and show a couple of birders the Garganey but there's no sign of it. I have better luck in the car park, where the Little Owl is sat in the Excavator compound, dozing in the sun on a pile of railway sleepers. It provides a nice end to a life-affirming pre-match birding visit.

The dozing Little Owl

THE FOOTBALL

I enter the next postcode into Jane SatNav and drive the thirty miles or so to the outskirts of Doncaster. Traffic is really quite busy but I've left plenty of time to get to the game at Cantley Park. Jane leads me to a massive complex of pitches, most of which have girls' matches taking place.  But which pitch is Bessacarr playing on?

    A referee is getting changed by his car and I take a punt: "you're not, by any chance, refereeing the Bessacarr game are you?" "Yes", comes the startled reply! He points me to the correct pitch and I park up.

    Bessacarr are hosting Harworth Miners Welfare Reserves at 12.00 noon today in the Central Midlands League, Division One North. All pitches on the complex are unroped and out in the open, so there's no worry about having to guess whether this is a game on public land! Regardless of the setting, I am having this as a new ground for me (suck it up, traditionalists!).

    A few familiar Groundhoppers are mooching around the touchline waiting for the game to kick off. A couple of fans have brought their own picnic chairs to watch the action from. I ask one lady if the game is all-ticket. After a blank look, she gets the joke and we have a quick chat about the teams today. It's a very relaxed scene. I count a total of 12 spectators.

    The match kicks off on time (for a change!). It is soon obvious that both sets of players have been itching to emerge from lockdown for about a year just so they can argue with a match official again! For fuck's sake, lads, get over yourselves and be grateful there's someone willing to turn out and officiate for you during a Pandemic. What I am trying to say is GROW UP!!

A typical scene from low level football. You cannot beat it!

The match is equally balanced. The score is 1-1 at half time, with each side dominating sections of the half. The second 45 is very similar: non-stop action. Harworth have a man sent off for a last-man-challenge but it doesn't upset their stride. Both sides could have won it but it ends in a fair Desmond: 2-2.

Match action at Bessacarr

    An enjoyable game with a fair amount of skill on show. Too much pathetic backchat, though. A pair of displaying Buzzards over the wood and a calling Nuthatch complete the scene.

While chatting to Hoppers at Bessacarr, I mention I intend visiting Glapwell later in the afternoon. None are optimistic the game will be open to fans, though Twitter insists otherwise. I am aware Hall Corner is an enclosed stadium, complete with turnstiles, but the club has stated everyone will be welcome. It is on my way home, so I won't lose much if the game proves to be inaccessible.

    I needn't have worried: when I turn up at Glapwell, the guy showing everyone where to park reassures me the ground is owned by Glapwell Parish Council, so is definitely on public land. Changing rooms are not permitted to be open, so both sets of players are getting their kit on in the car park.

The entrance to Glapwell's stadium

  This afternoon's game is also in the Central Midlands League, Division One North, so it should be interesting to compare this morning's sides with these two. Extra spice is added to proceedings by the fact both teams have a 100% record this season, so it's a something-has-to-give fixture.

    Glapwell are hosting Sheffield Reserves at 4.30pm today. I don't normally take in matches involving reserve sides unless absolutely necessary. Circumstances today definitely fall into the 'necessary' category. It is just great to be watching football again: my first games of the year!

    I snap on my mask to go through the turnstile manned by three cheerful youths. Clubs are not allowed to charge for entrance at the moment but there is a donation box. As I say, I am happy to be footballing again, so pop a fiver onto the pile of notes.

    I wander around the rickety old ground. It is definitely my sort of venue. At the opposite end to the turnstile is a high corrugated fence with a cricket pitch the other side. Regular shouts of "HOWIZEE?!!" ring out.

    The changing room and cafe buildings sit behind the other goal, immediately as one enters the stadium. One touchline houses the dugouts and a small, covered standing area, while on the other side covered seating can be found. There are no lights: rusty poles are still in place but the lights themselves have long gone.

Standing and seating arrangements at Hall Corner: 'ramshackle charm' at its best!

On my tour around the ground, I find a plucked Woodpigeon behind one goal. No one seems to notice it except me. The head has gone and the breast has been well and truly scoffed. I think it might be a Peregrine but further research suggests a Sparrowhawk. It must have been a large female to take out this fat pigeon!

Nature in red tooth and claw in the heart of Glapwell

    Sheffield start the game in sprightly mood and it is no surprise when they take the lead after ten minutes. Unfortunately for the home side, the ball ends up in the back of the net from their left back: an emphatic, skewed attempted clearance with more than a hint of comedy attached.

    Sheffield relax a bit too much, allowing Glapwell to break upfield to score the equaliser. I reckon the ball goes from box to box and into the net from just four or five touches.

Glapwell shirts ready for kick off.

The second half sees my second sending off of the day. Glapwell's big central defender lunges into a Sheffield player for an obvious red card: it is not a good challenge at all, completely out of character with the match so far; there's not much debate about it from the players. The visitors take advantage of their greater number and take the lead with one of those curious crosses that sails over the startled keeper and into the net. No doubt Cameron Burgin claims he did this on purpose (with his fingers crossed behind his back).

    Glapwell throw everything at Sheffield for the rest of the match. They smack the bar with a thundering header and then the visiting keeper makes an outstanding save from an excellent free kick. Sheffield hold on for the win. The dead pigeon remains impassive throughout.

I do like an attractive corner flag!

 An excellent day out, just like the old, pre-plague, days. Seven goals, two sendings off and some quality birdwatching beforehand. Long my our (cautious, slow-but-sure) freedom continue!