Around the Premier League Tracks 2007

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On Tour: Thursday 28 June - Wednesday 4 July

Thursday, 28 June

It’s a long way from Edinburgh to Swindon which was the first part of our trip. Our intrepid party left Scotland’s capital under grey skies which seemed to be mourning our departure at 9.00am but once we crossed the border the sun appeared as if to welcome us to England. Our driver, former speedway rider, Jimmy Beaton, had us safely delivered to the Blunsdon House Hotel, just five minutes from Swindon speedway track, by 5.30pm after suffering what I gather is the usual hold-up at the M5-M6 junction. We had one stop at Tebay Services, Westmoreland, where we got off the bus to stretch our legs and have a good laugh at the motorway services prices. I might have bought something but they couldn’t arrange a mortgage in time. When we got there most of us headed off to the Heart in Hand - the local watering hole - where we partook of err...refreshments which included some of the local Wiltshire dishes like soup in the basket followed by jugged hare although the hare had touches of dandruff. Then it was back to the hotel where we had err....more refreshments before being excluded for not being under power due to a flooded carburretor.

Friday, 29 June

After a frugal breakfast which consisted of cereal, fruit, fruit juice, sausage, bacon, eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, black pudding, baked beans, fried bread, with fried egg on top, toast, Danish pastry, tea and coffee I headed off for morning ablutions before taking on Doc Bridgett, Slap and Joe at what we laughingly called golf. Modesty forbids me to report on the result but afterwards it was time for more food. So it was back to the Heart in Hand for doorstep sandwiches (the doorsteps were a bit tasteless) and a pint or two of the foaming brew followed by a quick snooze. At 4.30pm we headed off for Somerset to watch with complete detachment (the Monarchs were not represented for some reason!) the Premier League Pairs Championship. Due to carnage on the motorway and outside the stadium we only arrived twenty minutes before the start.

It was a dry sunny evening and a good crowd, some of which didn’t arrive until after heat 6, enjoyed a splendid battle (the racing was quite good too!). Glasgow decided to qualify by not winning races but by filling the minor places, a tactic which was successful, while Somerset blew it when Emil Kramer ran two last places in their first two races. Meanwhile the Isle of Wight stormed into the semi-finals comfortably from the same group. Workington won the other qualifying group with a very impressive Newcastle performance taking them into the semis too. Of the rest Sheffield were pitifully poor being ’grannied’ in all of their races and King’s Lynn fell out of it dramatically after a 7-2 win in their opening race. In the first semi, Kauko Nieminen won for Workington but again the Glasgow pair showed that they understood the game being content to fill the minor places to qualify 5-4. In the other semi, the Isle of Wight did likewise. Josef Franc made an astonishing gate while Chris Holder gave up the chase to sit with his partner, Jason Bunyan for a 5-4 win. The final was an excellent race. The Glasgow pair of Shane Parker and Craig Watson were fast away but Chris Holder soon passed Watson and eventually Parker too to move to the front. Rather surprisingly Shane Parker continued his battle with Holder while his partner, Craig Watson came under pressure at the back and could have done with some help. Inevitably Jason Bunyan, with a wide swooping first and second bend drive, passed Watson for a 6-3 to the Islanders and a deserved win on the night much to the delight of the crowd who were dancing on the terraces. The cha-cha was particularly difficult on the sloped grassy banking. I was glad to meet Tiny Tim (who is anything but tiny) and Mike M, both from the Somerset fans’ forum. Both were extremely friendly lads and they made me feel welcome at the Oak Tree Arena. Thanks guys!

After that it was back to the hotel for another round of err....refreshments and a broken night’s sleep due to the frequent calls of nature before facing another frugal breakfast in the morning.


Saturday, 30 June

We all rather heavily got on the bus around 11.00am for Cardiff and the Millenium Grand Prix. On arrival on a miserably wet morning we circled the Cardiff Castle a good number of times in a vain attempt to find a parking space. After an interesting tour of the much admired double yellow lines we were dumped....sorry we alighted in the middle of a rainstorm somewhere near the stadium where we all went our different ways in search of err...refreshments. The Prince of Wales (POW), although not in attendance personally, provided us with hospitality and an opportunity to meet like-minded weirdos. I decided to leave before the throwing out and throwing up started and went off for lunch with Mike Hunter and Jane, Ole Nygren, Linda and Owen. Also there were Ronnie Anderson, Lord Rocket and the Campbell boys. After stuffing our faces yet again Cameron Woodward turned up with his two sisters, Kerryn and Kendall who I was glad to meet for the first time. Then it was time to head back to the POW where all and sundry were still quenching their thirsts before wading through the wet to the impressive Millenium Stadium.

The noise was horrendous! Luckily I had ear plugs with me and they were needed. While waiting for the meeting to start I had a tap on my shoulder (yes, it’s a funny place to have a tap!) and Dave T also from the Somerset forum introduced himself. I would have liked to have talked to him but I couldn’t shout loudly enough to make myself heard. The meeting was fabulous and has been reported at some length elsewhere. Suffice to say nearly everyone was delighted to see Chris Harris win; he deserved to. I tried to meet up with my good friend, Andy, from Weymouth afterwards but I had lost my sense of direction and was totally disorientated not helped by the torrential downpour. About 11.00pm we gave up trying to make contact so I headed back to the bus at which point I realised that I should have brought with me from the hotel a bathrobe and some towels – silly me! Like others on the bus I was soaked to the skin so it was an uncomfortable journey back to Blunsdon.


Sunday, 1 July

After the usual breakfast I had intended to go to the Welsh Open at Newport but my jacket was still soaking wet, inside and out, from the Saturday night’s deluge so I had nothing to wear (well not literally). With the forecast for Newport a bit dodgy in any case I decided to visit the market in the Swindon speedway car park and go to the Swindon v Peterborough match in the evening instead. As it happened the Welsh Open was on while the Swindon match was postponed after even more rain (where does it all come from?). The market was full of people who looked miserable as though they wanted, needed, craved for, would have killed for a cigarette. Of course we Scots got used to that a long time ago but it was curious to see how we must have looked when the smoking ban was introduced in Scotland. We bought nothing at the market – no surprise there then.

The rerun of the Grand Prix was on the television in the afternoon and I tried hard to get a bet on Chris Harris to win with Greg Hancock as runner up for the forecast but there were no takers! Rats! It was interesting to see how it looked on TV from all the various angles (By the way did you spot the Monarchs’ flag on the third/fourth bend?) Yes Ella and Dennis had draped it over the wall to make sure people knew we still exist. In the evening we went to an inn called the ‘Cold Harbour’. Now I would have bet against Swindon having a harbour since the last time I looked at a map it was landlocked. I gather it has something to do with the Romans who used to store things there, harbour meaning a place of refuge I guess. Now I had already tasted the Heart in Hand’s ‘home prepared honey roast ham with fries and oeufs’ so instead I had bacon steaklets with French fries and eggs only to discover it was ham, egg and chips again. I wanted the Sunday lunch only to be told it was off the menu but, as my father used to say, hunger is the best sauce. I don’t know why he said that but he did. He never used to say much else come to think of it.

After the eats and drinks it was back to base for a pool competition which I did not win so it was off to bed in the huff (no – huff, not –buff).


Monday, 2 July

Today was a free day with no speedway planned. In the morning we played golf and continued it after lunch after which we sort of lounged about and drank to prepare our systems for our annual drubbing on the Isle of Wight the next day. In the evening we watched the Eastbourne v Lakeside match on Sky Sports but it wasn't up to much.


Tuesday, 3 July

We had planned to head off for the Island in the morning and spend the day there but the forecast was not good so we delayed our departure till after lunch. The usual trip took us to the foot ferry at Portsmouth where the boat then ferried us across to Ryde pier. It’s a long walk to get from the end of the pier to Ryde. The town itself never seems to get any nearer as you walk towards it but eventually nature prevails and you get there. The guy who sells ice cream at the entrance to the pier must do a roaring trade as the weary travellers now on hands and knees struggle to their destination. (That’s not really true but if I told you the truth you wouldn’t believe it!). George and Helen Taylor (who did all the hard work organising the entire tour) took up their routemeister duties and directed myself with King Jaimie, Joe and Lauren, and Graham and Gordon on a health inducing bracing walk along the seafront heading east then back again before we climbed a hill to the Worthington pub at the top for eats and drinks. The Grand Old Duke of York kept coming to mind as we climbed the hill and I don’t mind admitting that I was next to knackered by the time we got there. If I’d known anyone half way up I would have visited them instead. To get away from the ham, egg and chips I tried something called ‘improved fish and chips’. I’m not sure what the improvement was but they did say that the cod came from a sustainable source whatever that means. It was quite nice. The time had now come to scamper down the hill to catch the bus which takes you to and from the Smallbrook track – a hair-raising experience if ever there was one!

The track was saturated with water and rain continued to fall throughout most of the meeting. This meant that the track was a gater’s paradise I’m afraid that we shall have to pull the curtain down on the Edinburgh performance although the home side no doubt appreciated the big start the Edinburgh riders gave them in nearly every heat. We might have done better had we had a different septet and it was a great relief when we only lost heat 12 by 3-2 when Jason Bunyan kindly pulled up to let our riders past. Matthew Wethers got into the act too so there were only two finishers. Why was it a great relief? Because the Islanders could no longer hit the 70 point mark!

There was one strange thing about the meeting, apart from Bryn Williams’ whimsical remarks. That was that, despite a twenty minute interval, the match was over by 9.15pm and we didn’t have to watch the last heat from the top of the double decker bus as usual! Instead we had a leisurely drive and stroll back with 30 minutes to spare for the 10.15pm ferry. Now how many visiting supporters to the Isle of Wight can say that? The journey back to base was a sombre affair but after a good night’s sleep we were ready for the last day of the tour.


Wednesday, 4 July

And so to the last lap. We checked out of our rooms and lounged around the hotel until 3.00pm before setting off for Birmingham. I switched to Budweiser for the day to find out why King Jamie always drinks that. The hotel does a mean baguette so I enjoyed a Prawn, Marie Rose with home made chutney. Unfortunately the side salad had the usual disgusting cucumber which was quickly ejected from the plate.

The weather up to Birmingham was excellent but by the time we got there the sky had turned a bit blackish. Our coach parked right next to the track in the car park and we had a good view of the track staff watering the track (!) and then ripping it up. We had three hours to kill before the meeting but they nearly killed me as the rain started, got heavier and heavier as I began to lose the will to live. However come 7.30pm the match was still on so we all made for the entrance to the stadium, paid our money and had a good look around.

The stadium is superb – one of the best I’ve been in for a speedway match. We watched one race in which both Edinburgh riders missed the gate then came the ritual congregation of the riders at the pits entrance where they all start kicking the track. This is nearly always the prelude to a meeting being called off. Why do they kick the track? Is it for revenge or are they hoping to unearth buried treasure? The referee then ordered a tiny tractor to be driven round a few times before telling us all what we already knew – the meeting was off. Still, sitting upstairs in the impressive restaurant area, peering through the huge windows I consoled myself with the knowledge that it was the most comfortable call-off I’d had the pleasure to witness.

Ah well – back to the bus and off home. I got home at around 4.00am. Despite the rain and the ‘result’ I had a brilliant time. Speedway supporters are the salt of the earth. They accept adversity willingly and come through the bad times with good humour. It was a privilege to have been in the company of my fellow fanatics and to have met so many excellent fans at the various tracks. Here’s to next year.