Set the Controls for the Heart of the Brum
- Beans Match Reporter
- Oct 19
- 4 min read
Walsall (A) - EFL League 2 - 18th October 2025
I’ve always found the Midlands confusing. Decent people, decent food but a curiously listless sense of ‘between’. Whether it’s between London and Manchester or the Danelaw and Wessex, ‘the Midlands’ has always felt off kilter.
Walsall and Walsall FC squat within these debatable lands. Mercia? West Midlands? Black Country? Everywhere and nowhere, baby.
One universal truth, wherever we are in the U.K.; that trains are packed, late or both. The Derby to Birmingham one reached that wonderfully British tipping point where First Class had finally been invaded. Apologetically smiling ‘shoppers’ clutched thin cans of Passion Fruit Martini as they edged past the one glowering passenger who had actually paid for their ticket.
Anyway, ‘meet us in the Trocadero’ sounded louche for touching base with some inter-city Bluebirds. Somehow, I navigated the confusing maelstrom of Birmingham New Street and headed up a street of pubs to find friends enjoying a convivial drink.
Subjects covered: Aboriginal Dreaming, Innes Cameron, knowing onions, Lee McEvilly and kaftans. Soon after, off for the train to Walsall. Luckily, or not, we were sat next to a ‘local character’. Luckily, embracing the madness proved the right decision.
Subjects covered: HS2, where Black Sabbath’s album cover graves are, Half Man Half Biscuit, whether Dudley was in the Black Country. All this delivered with eyes fixed firmly on the far distance, rather than at us. A psychedelic Mercian Pop-Sider, I guess.
Best of all; his synopsis of Pink Floyd’s ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ as the ultimate expression of alienation and pointlessness. There can’t be a light side of anything on the Moon of course, everything is dark. Very apt for League 2 as we turn for later nights and attritional percentage play.
‘Last time I was here I was riddled with gout,’ said one of my companions as we poured on the positivity once alighting from the train.
Shunted into the side with probably around 300, we watched as Walsall limbered and lumbered into the game. Top of the league meat and two veg football, big with a dash of quality out wide and the aptly named Flint at the back.
Their crowd stirred in anticipation as they picked us apart and whipped in dangerous set plays. But we are resilient if nothing else, a brilliant defensive header from MJ leading the resistance early on.
We were wishing our wingers would take the ball on the half turn more but we were wriggling back into it. A lovely round the corner pass from Fletcher set Shipley galloping away but the threat was snuffed out.
Walsall were getting irritated; and their crowd certainly was, claiming for anything and everything as we held firm. Raglan repelling all boarders and Wyll Stanway fisting, catching, diving and grabbing.
And then...AND THEN...Whitfield to Mahoney in a one-two at an angle that would have given Pythagoras a semi. Fabulous cross and there was Elliot Newby to finish with aplomb. Pandemonium.
Stung, Walsall battered forwards. Raglan made a titanic header and Stanway flew across the goal for a flying save.
Half time. Phew! I sat back for a diversity celebration (including Sweet Caroline on steel drums and a boxing champion no less) while Chace Homer worked the imminent Kane Hemmings and co as they dodged sprinklers.
As the Prodigy’s Voodoo People pumped excitedly through the speakers, we kicked off. Rakeem Harper was really growing into the game. Tough as nails, physical but can play a bit too.
NO! A momentary lapse of reason and Shipley, already booked, made a clumsy grab, then compounded it by blasting the ball away in temper. The lad has a lot to learn. Down to ten.
Back to the wall then: but still swinging and another great save from Stanway. Then MJ, brave as a lion, won a 20-80 ball and found Jackson. Slide rule pass, and away scorched Whits, hurdling an ankle breaker and playing a great ball into the box. Charlie McCann initially fluffed his lines but dispatched the second chance with ice cold efficiency to complete and utter bedlam in the away end.
Walsall were rocked but rumbled inexorably on as Harper made another titanic challenge. A big change over as the tiring Mahoney came off after a fabulous shift.
But now the experience in the squad kicked in...as old heads annoyed, delayed, game managed and held off Walsall. The away support, noisy and having a great day, loving life as entitled howls filled the air.
Then a scrambled goal and a roar round the Bescot. Here we go...But the players deserved better than any negativity. A lad behind me yelled ‘come on! Nowt’s changed!’
Tin hat time and we sang, blocked and pressed defiantly on. Here was where Stanway, already having a great game, simply reached talismanic heights. A flying save, a spreadeagled foot, a clever tip and then a world-class parry.
Six minutes. Discoland reverberated defiantly round the ground. A dreadful free kick decision at the end thankfully wasted.
And then, it was done! The next five minutes filled with noisy delight and real pride as we celebrated together. Andy Whing on Radio Cumbria rightly hailing everyone on and off the park as magnificent.
Sitting on the bus listening to the cheery chatter, bizarre deviations in conversation and songs, someone behind me said, ‘this is what makes it all worthwhile.’
And it was, sailing back on the steel breeze of the M6 back up the road
with three points glinting in the bag.
Shine!
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