Glovers and Groundhogs

Yeovil Town (H) - National League - 227th August 2026

Thanks to holidays and a personal boycott of the evil empire that is Harrogate Town, the home fixture against Yeovil was my first chance to cast an eye over Murray’s revamped Bluebirds in competitive action. I’d been to the Blackpool pre-season game and got suitably carried away with the win before the resumption of league action knocked that optimism well and truly out of me. 

Still, the first game always gives an added frisson of excitement. Looking forward to settling back into the old routine of familiar faces in familiar places as we all gather to observe the best soap opera going. So I set off around the Bay with hope in my heart - for a clear run from the Lakes-bound traffic as much as three points on the pitch. As I descended from the favelas of Nether Kellet down to the M6, with TMS on the wireless I looked across the Bay to see the sun dappling over the water and the lakeland hills - summer’s defiant last stand before jacket season gets into full swing. Come on Barrow, time to start the season properly. 

The pre match team news contained a few changes - no MJ (injured?), replaced by Smith. Reid up top for Rose and Digie in for Benjamin. It’s too early to say what our best team although it’s starting to take shape. I’ll be surprised if a fully fit Ward doesn’t replace Harper as one of the 10s, for instance. One other bit of news to digest - Barkhuizen off to Bamber Bridge. To play at Irongate or has he managed to get some shifts at the big B&Q I wondered? Only briefly, mind.  Good luck to the lad but I’m sure he’ll miss us as much as we’ll miss him.

One thing that doesn’t change is my ability to get waylaid by the opportunity to be sociable at The Soccer  - I must confess I spent the first 25 minutes of the game deep in conversation at the back of the Popular Side by Trust HQ so I saw very little of what was going on out on the immaculate looking pitch. The vibes were positive so I’ll assume we had the best of the first quarter. When I finally started paying attention it seemed like we’d recaptured the pace and purpose that was present in pre-season. Wave after wave of attack, relentless pressing and pressure on the ball. THIS is what we’re meant to be about. Granted it was a little too frenetic at times and we lacked that final bit of quality but the portents were brighter than all the reports I’d read about the season thus far. 

Smith and Marriott were busy and effective in the middle; Latty-Fairweather and Walker dangerous in wide areas although we never quite managed to fashion a gilt-edged chance for Reid. Having said that, if he hadn’t been hauled down on 37 I reckon we’d have gone into the break a goal to the good. Still, it was pretty much all Barrow in terms of pressure and the crowd responded with noise from all sides. This is more like it. Half time, honours even but we were ahead on points.

With the public address system in the Popular Side unintelligible I contented myself with checking the scores and surveying the scene. Most of the regulars in their place as usual. Bald patches tanned and glowing, a sea of bronzed domes that would please any passing Byzantine. Give it a few months and the cognoscenti will once again resemble a tub of cotton buds with the lid removed.

The second half began with the sounds of the fanzone crooner still wafting over the hallowed turf for a minute or so. Typical Barrow Soccer. A reasonable idea, badly executed. Ho hum. 

Aside from a lovely cross from Reid that I’m sure he would have loved to be on the end of himself, chances were few and far between at the start of the second half. Indeed, the visitors had a brief period of pressure themselves just before the hour mark with 84 hardy souls in the away section finding their voices for the first time. Yet another wasted corner soon scotched that. 

Changes began to be wrung in the hope of making the breakthrough and as the half wore on the pace intensity began to show up some fraying edges - on 67 Amos was caught out and his attempts to grab hold of the Yeovil lad outpacing him resembled a Barrow Braves full back flailing after a pacy Pontefract Panthers winger or some such. Desperate stuff but thankfully the resulting ball inside was blazed over the bar. 

The triple change on 72 brought Ward, Jackson and Benjamin into the fray. Within minutes Ward followed up his assist at Wetherby Road with a rocket from the edge of the area that crashed off the bar and bounced down behind the line. Joy unconfined and deserved on the balance of play. Energy fizzed through the stands and almost straight after the re-start Ward pressing and blocking of a pass was greeted with a cheer almost as loud as the goal. Was this it? Corner turned? Mentality shifted? Steady on Dave.

As full time loomed and the visitors pressed for a leveller, a sliding challenge gone awry resulted in a penalty which was tucked away by McCormick.  Despite over 2000 Bluebirds fearing the worst, the team were still urged on at the restart. Recriminations could wait and the benefit of the doubt was being given. 7 minutes added time and we dared to dream that this time it was different. Maybe we had done enough to banish the demons? Maybe we could pull out an Oldham-esque finish and win it ourselves?

Alas…a soft looking free kick was awarded to the now-buoyant visitors and the resulting set piece was the best of the night - clipped and curled onto the head of Gubbins who made no mistake under absolutely zero attention from anyone in black and white stripes. 

How does a team that is derided by opposition fans for being too physical and handsy in defence suddenly decide to give someone the freedom of the penalty area to pick his spot past the hapless Winterbottom. I know we’re meant to move on from last season’s omnishambles but it just reeked of Accy’s late winner at the Crown Ground. Basics again. Different players, different gaffer, same ability to shoot ourselves in the face. 

Despite the tsunami of despair sweeping over the ground, the crowd did remain outwardly positive albeit shellshocked. Sadly the final throw of the dice saw Benjamin’s effort tipped over the bar to safety. Bugger. 

At full time I was torn between wanting to applaud them off for the 80ish minutes where we gave a good impression of the new Barrow or eviscerating them for the same soft goals we saw too many times last season. In the end I clapped, as most did, although there was a smattering of boos and some theatric armsoutstretchery. And thus an evening that brimmed with possibility ended with me considering jumping on a TikTok trend for the first time in my life and driving home the wrong way down the 590. Football - eurgh.

So off we go to Kidderminster on Monday. Buoyant from beating Southend and with a point to prove against the man who left them to sit in one of football’s hottest hotseats it’s imperative we learn quickly from tonight. In reality, the ‘learning’ is obvious - mark your man ffs. Over to you, Barrow.

Footnote

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