FL2: Northampton v Torquay United 5th April 2010

Wasn't that the occasion when we had three men sent off? An all-round grotty day capped by having to suffer the company of a local bonehead all the way to the station. Whatever he said, I agreed.

As for yesterday, the game really was a reminder of the dichotomy between being a committed observer and a more casual one: a good point well-earned for one party; a pretty lousy spectacle for the other. A case, I guess, of how easily you can gain satisfaction from things that might not be much good.

Anyhow I was sufficiently pleased and, to echo other thoughts, it’s an overall gain of one point over Grimsby from the weekend’s efforts. Mind you, I felt wholly deflated around 4.30 when I overheard a comment saying that all the other teams were winning. What, even Grimsby? I’d missed all mention of their recovery until it was decisive – I wonder how many others were in the same boat or does everybody constantly check their phone nowadays? Perhaps I was less well-informed because I sat away from the madding crowd over on the right wing of our group of supporters which – with the General Election approaching – is not where I wish to be on 6 May. Torybay? No bloody thank you.

And, once again, I’m never sure what to make of Northampton or, indeed, Sixfields. Look at the map and Northampton is an attractive proposition – halfway between London and Birmingham; a manageable-sized town with all you need. Good too for sport: league football, county cricket and – such as your wont – top-class rugby. But, once you get there, it’s hardly an uplifting or inspiring place. Same too for Sixfields. I’m not adverse to the actual facility – and quite like its sunken semi-amphitheatre feel – but the surrounding Anywhereville is a ghastly let down.

Nonetheless the walk form the town has a couple of points of interest. Firstly, Franklin’s Gardens home of Northampton RFC (“The Saints”) which reminds us how – as a relatively smallish town – Northampton supports both professional football and professional rugby. Look at the rugby club’s website and you’ll see that 13,000 home crowds are par for the course. Indeed, when I was last at Sixfields it was for a Friday night game followed by a Saturday trip over to Leicester City. Had I been of another persuasion I could have watched Leicester rugby on the Friday and Northampton rugby on the Saturday. Why, in that case, is rugby such a big deal in that neck of the woods? Is it as simple as saying that Rugby is just up the road or is there an alternative sports history explanation?

Here’s a picture of Franklin’s Gardens filched from Geograph. There was actually a 2nd XV game played yesterday afternoon, watched by nearly nine hundred people:



The second point of interest? Take a look at this. Regular Sixfields visitors may know the answer immediately. What is it?