BOOTHAM BOW A DAMP SQUIB!

A FRESH TAKE ON FOOTBALL

- Chris DUNLAVY

IN a fortnight, I hope to be one of the fortunate few allowed into Bootham Crescent for York City’s play-off semi-final against Altrincham or Chester.

Hopefully, it will actually happen. Six years ago, I walked from my home in the city’s South Bank to watch the Minstermen face Fleetwood in the first leg of the League Two play-offs.

It was not a pleasant stroll. Rain fell in blinding leaden sheets on that Saturday evening, as it had for much of the previous 24 hours. Clothes were soaked. Drains overwhelmed. At Ouse Bridge, the King’s Arms – a pub that floods so frequently its interior features only wood and stone – was fighting yet another losing battle with the river.

York had earlier announced their game would be unaffected by the weather, but as kick-off loomed, confidence wavered. Balls were bounced, only to stick like lead weights. Puddles formed, swelled and turned into small ponds.

One abiding memory is of Sophie McGill, the York director, giving a pitchside interview to Sky TV as her cream stilettos slowly sank into the mire. When she walked away, one stayed put.

At 7.45, ref Carl Boyson finally pulled the plug and a despondent McGill was left to hold court in the club’s incongruously jaunty kids’ club. “I just hope this isn’t our chance gone,” she told us privately.