No. 82: Hillsborough [Sheffield Wednesday]

Saturday, 11th April 2015
Sheffield Wednesday v. Charlton Athletic [Championship] 1-1

This is one I'd been looking forward to for a long while, as Hillsborough represents the last of the old, great stadiums of England still standing I had yet to visit. Having also a good friend from the city who happens to back the blue half of Sheffield, I also decided to make a weekend of it with the wife in the Steel City.

Garrison Hotel, Hillsborough, Sheffield.

We drove up and checked into our hotel, a Grade II listed former prison and ammunitions warehouse (good idea putting those together, of course) converted into The Garrison Hotel 15 years ago.

Cheap and cheerful, this was a good value option only 20 minutes' walk from Wednesday's ground within the grounds of the former Hillsborough Barracks. Check-in complete, there was just enough time to walk up to Hillsborough and have a stroll around this fine old football ground before kick-off.

And Hillsborough is indeed, an old ground. "A little rough around the edges", my Wednesday-fan friend and chaperone for the day, Neil, told me. And true enough, it doesn't look spangly and sparkly like a lot of the new grounds I've visited this season.

Hillsborough: An English Classic.

The newest two of the ground's four stands were constructed in the 1960s, but the oldest parts of the ground are over 100 years old now - the North stand and the Main South Stand with its iconic clock and finial atop, were both built over 1913-1915 just as the First World War began raging across Europe.

So despite the conversion of the whole ground to all-seater and some external revamping in the 1990s prior to hosting a few games at Euro 96, Hillsborough still looks and feels like a proper old ground, with Archibald Leitch flourishes still in evidence. And that, I can tell you, is a good thing.

South Stand, Hillsborough.

Yes, it could probably do with a few licks of paint here and there. Yes the seats have just been bolted into the existing terraces, meaning a distinct lack of comfort and leg room in the oldest parts of the ground. And yes, underneath the built-up Kop I noticed huge mounds of soil underneath and propping-up the old terrace. But who cares, really? This is simply a ground you need to be able to watch football in - and you can certainly do this very well.

The scale of Hillsborough's old stands is the first thing that struck me. I've visited bigger grounds this season than the current 40,000-capacity here, but none on this scale that are as old or conjure up such vivid images of packed crowds in days gone by.

A Sea of Heads: The View from the back of the Kop.

Sat amidst tight seats in the Spion Kop looking out over a sea of heads between me and the pitch, I could easily envisage the clocked-off steel-workers in early post-war years here in their flat caps and trench-coats, choking on Woodbines and waving wooden rattles, cheering the Wednesday on amongst 60,000 others.

Opposite the Kop is the most well known stand at Hillsborough, indeed you don't even need to be a football fan to have heard the name Leppings Lane, the name of the stand allocated to Liverpool fans on the day of the terrible tragedy of 15th April 1989.

Entrance to the West (Leppings Lane End) Stand.

Today, the away end is officially called the West Stand and like the rest of Hillsborough has been converted to an all-seater, in line with the requirements of the Taylor Report that was commissioned as a direct result of the disaster. But otherwise the stand has changed very little since 1989 and the small, central opening in the centre of the lower tier is just as it was that fateful day when 96 people were to go on to die after passing through this narrow tunnel.

Quite chilling - so familiar are the chaotic scenes that unfolded on the day, to see the same stand opposite where I was sat still in situ.

It's difficult not to be moved by the respectful tribute to the disaster outside the ground, just the other side of the river. A simple sandstone block stands looking away from the ground, the bars behind festooned with Liverpool scarves, shirts, flowers and flags representing a number of other football clubs, left by fans paying their own respects.

It's a sad fact that the word 'Hillsborough' today conjures up first this terrible disaster, but that is hardly surprising given the scale of Britain's most deadly sporting disaster that took place right here.

As such a walk around Hillsborough is always be poignant for any who remember the tragedy as you pass by the riverside and turn off Leppings Lane towards the away turnstiles.

West & South Stands from across the River Don.

Hillsborough is built right on top of the banks of the River Don, and it's impossible to do a full circuit around the ground without crossing the river at some point. Its proximity to the river, and the fact that the pitch is cut low to the water table, is a perennial problem in times of floods.

In 2009, the pitch was under a couple of feet of water - and despite a reticence to leave such an iconic stadium, Neil did say it was a conversation that kept coming up due to the increasing regularity of floods and the appalling state the pitch always seemed to get in come the middle of the season.

Entrance to The Kop.

For now though, Hillsborough has a grateful extended stay of execution. Wednesday might have recently rebuilt or relocated had the last 10-15 years of concerted stadium modernisations and relocations not coincided with Wednesday's relative decline since their relegation from the Premiership in 2000. There simply isn't much call to prioritise a new stadium project with the team languishing in League One, I guess.

The game today was never likely to be a high-octane affair, contested as it was between two mid-table Championship sides as this season draws to a close. And true enough, both teams at times looked like they were going through the motions - we got to half-time with the home side 1-0 up from their first serious incursion into the box.

A rare treat at half-time in being able to step 'outside' to an external concourse area between stand and turnstiles. Something I have missed in today's modern ground. This meant we could drink our weak, warm lager under open skies. Living the dream.

Henderson's Relish, Azerbaijan Shirt Sponsor & We're All Wednesday, Aren't We?

I also took the opportunity to try a tasty chicken balti pie with some of Sheffield's own "Henderson's Relish" sprinkled on top. Its tagline is "The Spicy Yorkshire Sauce" and I have to admit I've never seen it elsewhere, and Neil has always raved about it. Personally, I think it pays a distant second string to Baron Pouget's Oxford Sauce, but I'd still recommend you give this Yorkshire variant on Worcestershire sauce a go if you are in the Steel City!

Back in for the second half and it did liven up a little. Not enough for me to notice a few peculiarities about me, such as the "We're all Wednesday, Aren't We?" chant that started up in the Kop. Answers on a postcard as to where this came from or whether it has a hidden meaning, but it's even infiltrated the official merchandise in the club shop (the replica kit also has WAWAW written on the inside of the collar).

Second Half Action at Hillsborough.

Charlton equalised in the 75th minute, a goal that had been threatening for a while and would have come sooner but for the heroics of Wednesday's star player, goalkeeper Keiren Westwood. Sheffield still should have won it though in an action-packed last few minutes.

In the space of 25 seconds, Wednesday hit the same corner of the crossbar twice from different players, and the unpronounceable Atdhe Nuhiu hung his Kosovar-Austrian head in shame as he headed wide unmarked from about a yard out with an open goal gaping in front of him. Shame on you, Atdhe Nuhiu.

Sheffield Town Hall: Impressive.

Game over, Neil and I shuffled out of the ground along with 23,000 others and went for a night on the tiles in the wonderful city of Sheffield with some nice ladies (our wives, as it happens).

First stop, the fantastic Devonshire Cat pub in the city's trendy Devonshire Quarter, full of bars, restaurants and independent shops. The Devonshire had an overwhelming selection of beers - 12 real ale taps and about another 12 unusual keg beers from all over the world.

The most unusual, though, and one I went to town on was probably Siren Brewery's Smoke Signals - a "dry-hopped smoked sour wheat ale" brewed in the not-so-exotic Wokingham. An acquired taste - but thankfully I did acquire one.

What better way to round off the evening but with a curry, I hear you say? Well I happen to agree. Neil took us to the other end of town to a South Indian and Sri Lankan restaurant he'd been meaning to visit for a while. And after the amazing meal we had, I can only assume its close proximity to Bramall Lane was the only reason he'd been avoiding it.

Arusuvai: South Indian/Sri Lankan Feast in Sheffield.

Arusuvai on Abbeydale Road is a delightful place, with the friendliest staff I've ever been served by and some pretty amazing food to boot. I would particularly recommend the chettinadu mutton masala, the minder pakora (deep fried cashew nuts!), the chicken kothu (minced bread-based dish), and the decadent banana-honey paratha bread. Good lord.

It wasn't long after that little lot was put away that we were on the way back to the hotel after a quick nightcap (Saltaire's Raspberry Blonde Ale, since you asked) in a nearby pub. A great day and night in one of England's best cities.

But the weekend wasn't over yet...

We still had Sunday's drive home of course, and right on Sheffield's doorstep in neighbouring North Derbyshire are the beautiful dales of the Peak District - a welcome detour from the southbound M1, the beauty starts just minutes from leaving Sheffield's industrial streets behind.

Peak District View: Rather Nice.

The Peak District is a stunning part of the country, full of stark hillsides, fields of sheep bounded by dry-stone walls, tree-lined banks of trickling becks and picturesque farmhouses and village streets fit to grace the cover of locally-sold fudge boxes.

Our lunch option was a recommended pub in the pretty little village of Edale, also the official start of the 250-mile long Pennine Way, and it was indeed rammed full of ramblers by the time we left after lunch.

The Old Nags Head in Edale is a lovely, welcoming old stone building, and yet again this weekend we were treated to some incredibly friendly service. Must be something in the water around here.

I'm not normally a fan of a carvery (after some bad childhood experiences with Mr Toby's poor efforts), but I couldn't say no when this one featured amongst its offerings a Farmhouse Pie containing chicken, gammon, steak, chorizo and black pudding.

This blog is not doing much for my waistline - but at least you read this knowing these establishments have been very extensively-researched for you, eh?

The Old Nag's Head: Edale. Sunday Carvery Wonderment.

And so, with ominous-looking clouds looming over the horizon behind the grey-green peaks and rocky outcrops, we drove south through the Peak District back towards the motorway and home. Another fine weekend of football, food, culture, city and countryside. I could get used to this 92-club lark.

Shame I've only got 10 left to do now!

With thanks to Neil Seepujak (@thejack78) & Liv Walker.

Next up: TRANMERE ROVERS 18.04.15!