Bath City 2-3 Ebbsfleet United
Conference National
Saturday 18th February 2012 – 15:00

Since Bath City’s last home game, the club have been in the national news yet again. This time it wasn’t for inviting the Polish community to use the club shop for their countries embassy. Nor was it a scandal over a match referee stealing the underpants of the entire youth team.

This latest piece of media attention has been over the club’s decision to sell the naming rights to the football ground for just £50. That’s right. For just £50, you can win a chance to name Twerton Park for one season. I’m not buying a ticket, but if I were to participate and was lucky enough to win, I would have a tough choice… name the ground The Sean’s Stories Stadium, or perhaps The Ken Bates Out Arena, or maybe just keep it as Twerton Park.

Never wishing to miss a money making opportunity myself, if anyone would like to get the naming rights to my blog for 12 months, I will shortly be running a similar draw. For a mere £5,000 you can name my website whatever you like – suggestions of ‘Blogging Bollocks’ and ‘The Most Boring Blog Ever’ have already come in.

In all seriousness, when I first heard the news, I was against it. Modern day football is generally rubbish, so to follow down the same route as Newcastle United and rename our ground disappointed me. However, Bath City do not have a large fan base or wealthy owner willing to bankroll the club, therefore money has to be made somehow. If this latest money-making scheme does bring in much needed finances, it can only be good for the football club.

Besides the thrilling news that Twerton Park will be renamed, the club was also keen to unveil its recently redeveloped clubhouse, Charlies. I must admit, I was impressed by the new look. Gone is the old tribute to The Phoenix Club. In its place a modern looking bar, draped in black and white stripes, LED lights and flat screen televisions. The place will probably be broken into and have everything stolen within a month, but before Burglar Bill does turn up with his swag bag, I’ll enjoy it.

Bling bling bar. Endorsed by Didier Drogba

To mark the launch of the new bar, there was yet more excitement! “What! More?” I hear you shout, yes more! How I contained myself, I really don’t know. My ears were already close to bleeding due to the hysteria.

The Carling Cup was at Twerton Park. For those slightly older, The Rumbelows Cup. For those older still, The Littlewoods Challenge Cup. Notice something here? Former sponsors of the cup, now out of business. Watch out Coca-Cola, you’re next!

After doing something that Nemanja Vidic, John Terry or Robin van Persie will do this season – lift the Carling Cup – I made my way into the soon to be named Wirral Rubbish Stadium.

Not as good as the Somerset Premier Cup, but better than the Europa League

Manager, Adie Britton has come in for a lot of criticism lately, with certain fans blaming his tactics and 4-5-1 formation for poor results. With strikers Sean Canham and Lee Phillips both starting the game, it would appear they had the ‘would-be-managers’ demands had been met.

Despite the apparent more attacking formation, City fell behind to another early goal. A mistake from goalkeeper Glyn Garner. “What a crap keeper!” a moaner yelled. Moments later Lee Phillips missed an excellent chance to equalise. “Never mind, Lee!” the critical supporter shouted to Phillips “Keep going!” It must be shit being a goalkeeper. Especially at Bath City. One mistake and you’re branded ‘crap’. If you’re a centre forward with a goal tally of 3 for the season, you’re a god, regardless of your cock-ups.

There wasn’t much else to report in the first half. City had a minor shout for a penalty after being tackled in Ebbsfleet’s box. It was a good tackle and certainly not a penalty. Worth appealing though. The referee was Wayne Barratt. The official who gave Braintree a penalty for absolutely no reason last month, so you never know, if you shout for a pen, you might get one with that ref. On another day, if he was feeling more generous, we could have been 10-1 up at the half time interval. Ten penalties.

The second began where the first half finished – with fans complaining. They moan when the team play 4-5-1, they moan when they play 4-4-2. It was suggested 0-0-10 be tried (that’s zero-zero-ten), but that would be stupid; although, I’m all for giving 2-2-8 a go.

Bath City did get an equaliser. Centre back, Gethin Jones charging up field to find the net following a set piece. The moaning turned to cheers and a rare song even broke out. Ebbsfleet’s goalkeeper, Preston Edwards, then decided to help out Bath City’s cause by punching Gethin Jones in the stomach – a straight red card for the England C international.

This is it! I thought to myself. Our turning point in the season! We’ll go on to win this and stay up! Sadly, it wasn’t to be. As City pushed men forward, 10 man Ebbsfleet broke and scored a second goal themselves. Cue more moaning.

In an attempt to escape the negativity, I walked to the opposite side of the ground, behind the dugouts. That was even worse. More moaning. More complaining. More idiots. Bath City really do have some stupid fans.

Seven minutes of added time was shown by the fourth official, but any thoughts of a comeback would be short lived when Ebbsfleet got a third. Sean Canham did get a 97th minute goal, but it would just be a small consolation.

At fulltime an elderly fan argued with assistant manager, Lee Howells. While some fans agreed with the moaning supporter, others berated him and applauded Lee.

These are sad times at Bath City. The fans are divided, the atmosphere is as bad as it has been for years, we’re losing football matches every week and the attendance is crap. Despite all this, I still love the football club and will continue to support the players and management both home and away.

The good times will come back, as will the current stay-away supporters; many of whom will claim to be die-hards and sing “City ‘til I die!” on their return. Where these fans are now, I don’t know. Going by the lyrics of their song, I assume they’re dead.

Highlight of the afternoon, besides getting my hands on the Carling Cup before Steven Gerrard – post-match Thatchers Gold cider at just £1.50 a pint.