Exit-Factor
- Andrew McMenemy
- 6 days ago
- 3 min read
Swindon Town (H) - EFL League 2 - 6th September 2025
Reader, a confession: I did one. I took an early dart. I tapped out. I threw in the towel. For the first time ever in 38 years following Barrow, I left a game before the final whistle. A good 15 minutes before it too, as soon as Swindon made the scoreline look, well, about right. (And by the way, Holker Street could not have been better designed for the skulking early leaver; two generous back exits on the Popular Side, a forgiving ramp gently propelling you past the bogs, through the welcoming exit gates, and on your way down Holker Street before you can say "Lewis Shipley is our actual top scorer".)
In my defence, can I refer to exhibit A? I've stood and/or sat through much worse. I watched the entirety of Barrow 1-6 Redditch, on 11th September 2004 (a date that will surely live in infamy. It was also the day the rugby won the league); I was there for 100% of Mansfield 7-0 Barrow, and witnessed Gregg Blundell's consolidation goal at Nene Park as Rushden & Diamonds beat us by a hatful as well. There are others. Yesterday there were external factors, which brings me to…
Exhibit B: the train I was going to get had been cancelled and the next one was at 6pm. I knew it was going to be cancelled. It almost always is. It is literally a ghost train, and I foretold this to a Burnley fan and his son on the way out of the station before the game (Burnley maintaining an unblemished record of every single one of their fans that I have met being sound - jointly held with York City). For balance, while we're on the subject of the rail network, and though operators struggle to maintain the advertised timetables on a Saturday, kudos for installing a section of footpath between Grange and Kents Bank where it's officially designated as acceptable for a grown adult to wave at trains - the only one in the country I believe.
While the chat in the fanzone was positive, the atmosphere inside the stadium was flat. The term fanzone has always puzzled me; surely the whole ground is a fanzone. We need a new term for portioned-off car parks with alcohol licences. Anyway, it looked to the naked eye that we had set up all wrong, even taking account of the injuries and suspensions. It looked suspiciously like a 4–4-2, which of course it can't have been because we haven't done that since about 2008 and the formation has been outlawed. With Worrall as right-back, and a midfield two sans Scott Smith, it looked like a very unfamiliar backline with little protection from those in front. Almost immediately the lack of quality at the back was exposed down the Swindon left. With Raglan being robbed in possession, the ball went wide into the huge gap left by Worrall who had come inside, and a simple cut-back saw us 1-0 down after a couple of minutes.
While finding ways to defend Canavan last week for getting sent off, I worked out that since Whing arrived, in games where at least one goal has been scored, the team scoring first has won 74% of games. Arguably therefore, I should have left at this point, but I bravely stuck it out, and I was rewarded by Josh Gordon almost equalising with a back-post header. Given he lacks match fitness, he worked his legs down to the knees almost single-handedly taking the fight to the Swindon defence (Walker playing the nominal target man, but that really isn't his game). The main difference in the first half wasn't "desire" or "fight" or "passion", it was the speed of thought. Booty, while I admire him and think he will come good, wants a little too much time to pick out a pass at the moment, and Swindon were able to set themselves.
Losing possession again on 36 led to a goal even simpler than the first and the exit signs looked ever more enticing. Scott Smith eventually came on at half-time but it was almost pointless. Much huffing and puffing in the Swindon half led to a couple of chances, including their keeper pawing away a good Newby effort, but the game was done. I have since seen the consolation goal on the highlights, and it will doubtless go down in history as having been scored by Lewis Shipley in the 80th minute. I was passing the British Legion when it went in, FYI.
Coda: needless to say further train cancellations meant that I might as well have stayed until the bitter end. Next time I'll just get off at Grange-over-Sands and wave at a diesel locomotive.
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