Search: ' The Withdean'
Stories
by Robbie Savage
Constable, £18.99
Reviewed by Tom Lines
From WSC 352 June 2016
Apparently, you either love Robbie Savage or you hate him. He is, in his own words, “Mr Marmite”: someone who divides opinion “like Moses divided the Red Sea”. It’s an interesting choice of simile, suggesting a finely balanced reservoir of people on each side of the debate. In reality, on one hand there are the people who love him: his close friends and family, perhaps his agent, and on the other there are all the people you’ve ever met with an interest in football.
It might not have excited Manish Bhasin, but for David Stubbs this scoreless draw at Brighton’s corporate new ground proved to be an historic occasion
The first professional football match I ever attended was just over 40 years ago in September 1971. A treat for my ninth birthday, en route back from a late summer holiday at the Golden Sands Chalet Park in Withernsea. It was at Hull City, as it happens, at the old Boothferry Park. In later years, with Kwik Save and Iceland stores embedded into its queasy, dirty yellow structure, it cut a grim spectacle indeed (it was home to Hull until 2002) but back then, to my young eyes, it was a veritable Humberside Xanadu, wreathed in the alluring odour of fried onions, a mass plumage of hats and scarves, the floodlights towering with Wellesian awe like gigantic alien overlords at all four corners of the stadium.
Drew Whitworth has some good memories of a temporary home, but he’s not sentimental about leaving and never going back
Let’s get one thing straight first. It’s not The Withdean in the same way it’s not, say, The Hillsborough. But somehow it deserves the definite article. It’s a unique place to watch football, with its bank of “temporary” uncovered seating to the south, backed by the woods of a nature reserve, its poky North Stand with a suburban pub behind and its litter of athletics paraphernalia, like the hammer net. There is only one Withdean: thank God.