The 2025/26 football season is very nearly upon us, much to the relief of football fans everywhere. The close season? It's just plain wrong. In need of his football fix, my mate Darren came up with this daft challenge. I'll let him tell you all about it.
A serious task calls for a serious face.
First four grounds at Wigan Athletic, Bolton
Wanderers, Salford City and Bury FC.
If you're a football fan, then the month of June has a lot to answer for.
June is officially football's Close Season, as defined in FA rule book clause B21.3 when, amongst other things, no standard 11-a-side matches may take place. Yes, I know about the world cups and european championships but that's not proper, pre-match pie, smell of the crowd, roar of the greasepaint real football. And whilst June has its cricket and Wimbledon tennis, the fact is that I miss my real football and it's all June's fault.
Or the FA's.
Either way this June I decided I should do something about it and thus set myself the noble quest of visiting ten football grounds, in and around Geater Manchester, all in one day and all by public transport. I do have form in this respect having previously visited the grounds of all fifteen tier one to five clubs inside the M25, plus Wembley for luck, on a similar basis. That was eleven years ago and I did it with a mate but this time I was planning a solo challenge involving all nine of Greater Manchester's tier one to five clubs plus (tier seven) Bury FC as my billy bonus.
Irrespective of your thoughts on the worthiness or indeed sanity of such a challenge I do hope you will appreciate that these things don't just plan themselves. The logistics took literally hours and hours of planning to coordinate timings for trains (four), trams (three) and buses (twelve) which begs one of two questions. Did I miss my true vocation in life, or more simply, why Darren, why?
Oh, and I had to get to Manchester in the first place as I live in Essex. Again, why Darren, why?
I travelled up to Manchester by coach on the Sunday and stayed at a Premier Inn in the city centre, just a few minutes walk from Manchester Victoria station where my challenge was due to commence the following day. With a 05.34 train to catch in the morning, an early night was in order but unfortunately several beers and an attack of the munchies meant that it was almost midnight by the time my head hit the Premier Inn pillow. Best laid plans and all that.
Anyway, five and a half hours later I was up, showered, a bit chilly (having only packed a polo shirt for the day), hungry (too early for Greggs to be open).......and on the train to Wigan. Whilst on the train I purchased my Wayfarer ticket which would see me through the rest of the day, travel ticket wise. In theory.
The first of my thirteen bus journeys (I know, it was only supposed to be twelve) saw the first of thirteen scanning rejections for the Wayfarer ticket. Fortunately the bus driver was completely relaxed about it and I boarded the bus for the short hop to the stadium which to me - and most other footie fans - is known as the JJB, or at least the DW, but most definitely not the Brick Community Stadium which is apparently its latest incarnation.
Anyway, I exited the bus, walked to the stadium main entrance, took a few selfies and then back to the bus stop to catch the bus back to Wigan bus station. All a bit low key really but it was still early in the day and the second bus driver was similarly relaxed as his colleague had been about the Wayfarer ticket scanning rejection.
From Wigan bus station a fifty minute bus ride - with a less relaxed bus driver - to Horwich followed by a fifteen minute walk to Bolton's Reebok Stadium, Except now it's rather ludicrously called the Toughsheet Community Stadium. I mean surely someone's taking the pee there?
Whatever, en route to the Toughshit a huge Tesco store provided opportunity for actual taking of a pee plus purchase of food and drink. And once at the stadium I happened upon two football club staff members who were kind enough to allow me into the ground to take a few photos. The first thing that struck me as we walked along the concourse was how quiet and eerie it all was. In a strange way, I think that football grounds often look more impressive when they're empty. Maybe the scale is more apparent when empty?
From the impressive Toughshit, it was a short walk to Horwich Parkway railway station where I caught a train to Salford Crescent and then two buses - with two unhappy bus drivers - to Salford City's Moor Lane ground, the Peninsula Stadium. The word "peninsula" isn't immediately ridiculous in the same way as the Toughshit and I was totally unable to come up with any remotely rude or funny words out of the nine letters available. "Pines" maybe? Or "spine"? Or "snipe"? Definitely nothing rude or funny. Anagrams obviously aren't my thing.
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| Stockport County, Oldham Athletic (careful, nearly broke into a smile), Rochdale and Manchester City. |
And then it was on to Bury via a thirty five minute bus ride on which I didn't even bother trying to scan the ticket, instead merely advising the driver that I had a valid ticket which had already failed to scan on five occasions so he would just have to take my word for it. And he did. I alighted the bus at the appropriate stop and took a short stroll to the Gigg Lane ground where I took a couple of selfies before trying my luck at the main reception. It was here I was met by a very friendly lady who, once I had told her what I was up to, was kind enough to give me a guided tour of the ground including dressing rooms and the fantastic hospitality suite. She told me so much about the history of the club and the Gigg Lane ground, including the difficulties of the last few years, and I really couldn't thank her enough by the time I departed. I know how bad ownership can wreck a football club as I have witnessed this with my own club, Sheffield Wednesday, but that is another story. Fortunately, Bury FC appear to be on the up now with consecutive promotions to their current tier seven level and with an infrastructure and fan base geared to further elevation up the football pyramid. I walked away from the ground with a real sense of admiration for the club and wishing them all the best for the future. Hopefully it won't be too long before they are back competing in the English Football League.
So far, so good. The day's itinerary was working to plan and I was actually marginally ahead of schedule. A short bus ride back to Bury Interchange with a few minutes to wait for the 468 bus to Rochdale where I was planning to visit the ground before treating myself to fish and chips at the iconic Willbuts Lane Chippy, a famous and classic old fashioned chippy set in a row of terraced houses next to the football stadium. The football stadium is called the Spotland Stadium (although sponsored as The Crown Oil Arena) and I noticed the 467 bus on the stand, destination Spotland, so I hopped on that one instead as it was leaving earlier than the 468 bus. Bad move.
The 468 bus route includes a stop at (very near to) the Spotland Stadium. The 467 bus doesn't. By the time I realised my error, I had no option but to stay on the 467 all the way to Rochdale bus station and then wait on the next bus heading back in the opposite direction. All in all this cost me around forty five minutes in time, not in itself a disaster. Once off the bus at the appropriate stop, I headed up a fairly steep hill towards the ground which was pretty underwhelming from the outside and with no one around to try and gain access. So, I took a few selfies and then headed off to Willbuts Lane Chippy, arriving there at a 1.45 pm just in time to see them turning round the "Open" sign on the entrance door. Bugger. That forty five minutes was a disaster after all.
Rather dejectedly and not a little hungry, I walked back to the Spotland Stadium bus stop to catch the next bus back to the bus station. The, by now, expected rejection of the Wayfarer ticket was not warmly received by the bus driver and a heated discussion ensued before he reluctantly allowed me on board. Contrast this with the lovely bus driver on my next bus who cheerfully welcomed all passengers on board and cheerfully bid them farewell upon exit.
As for the rude driver, he reminded me of the Peninsula Stadium in that he was a bit of Snipe/ Pines/ Spine or something similar perhaps.
Next stop was Oldham Athletic's Boundary Park stadium and a ten minute walk from the Royal Oldham Hospital stop and down the hill with the ground visible in the distance complete with its four traditional floodlight pylons rising high into the sky. What a wonderful sight, and one that is rapidly becoming a thing of the past with the modern stadiums, so it's something that always puts a smile on my face. It's hard to explain and maybe you have to be of a certain age to appreciate this vestige of real football.
Similarly the main stand was a fantastc throwback to the past with the words OLDHAM ATHLETIC on the back of the stand in a 1970's retro style. I took a few snaps and as I was right by the main reception area, I buzzed the intercom to see if I might be able to gain access to the ground. A nice chap came to the door, I explained what I was up to and he was kind enough to let me in and we headed for pitchside. The pitch itself was in immaculate condition and the stadium was a wonderful mix of old and new and very different from when I last visited here. That was on the final day of the 1990/91 season, a dramatic afternoon with Oldham coming back from 2-0 down to win 3-2 against Sheffield Wednesday. That result edged out West Ham United to the Second Division title but all three teams ended up being promoted.
We chatted football for several minutes and talked about the 2025 National League play-off final when my home town team, Southend United, snatched defeat from the jaws of victory against Oldham in a dramatic extra time period. He was telling me that a lot of Oldham fans have developed a soft spot for Southend following that match and are hoping that they too will be back in the football league sooner rather than later.
Back up the hill towards the bus stop and my noble challenge was very nearly brought to a premature halt by a chap taking more interest in his mobile phone than the electric vehicle he was driving. I proffered some suitable advice to the guy, possibly invoking a five letter anagram derived from Salford's stadium name, before two bus journeys and a thirteen minute walk saw me at the Etihad Stadium, the fabulous home of Manchester City. I actually visited the Etihad last year and did a proper stadium tour so today was all about a quick selfie to prove I'd been there and then off to catch a tram to Picadilly and then train to Stockport.
Following my Willbuts Lane Chippy disappointment, had it not been for a packet of TUC cheese biscuits then I might have been tempted to get at least some satisfaction out of the Wayfarer ticket by eating it. But as I entered Picadilly and approached the barriers with ticket in hand the clouds parted, angelic voices sang and shafts of sunlight came upon me, the barriers parted and I was as Moses and the parting of the red sea.
It was a short hop on the train to Stockport station and only a five or six minute walk to Stockport County's Edgeley Park Stadium. The stadium came into view and as I approached the main stand, the first thing that struck me was the fantastic sign of blue letters on white background, running virtually the full length of the stand, spelling out STOCKPORT COUNTY AFC. It was very impressive. No obvious opportunity to get a look inside the ground so I took a few pictures behind the big modern stand at one end of the ground before heading back to the train station.
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| I'm enjoying it really. Honest. Altrincham and Manchester United |
Nine down. One to go!
I walked back to the train station and caught the tram to Old Trafford. The tram stop is right next to Old Trafford cricket ground, home of Lancashire CCC and as I do like my cricket, it would have been rude not to take a few pics here as well. But it was Manchester United's Old Trafford stadium that I was here for, just a further half a mile up the road.
I walked past The Trafford pub with its murals of Bobby Charlton and George Best then crossed the main road and into the stadium complex. Despite it being quite late in the day now - around eight o'clock - there were still plenty of tourists around taking photos. Why is it that all tourists nowadays seem to be Japanese? I felt a bit like a tourist myself at this stage although consoled myself with the near certainty that I was the only one amongst them who had also been to Bury FC that day.
I have to say that I have no real feelings either way about Manchester United nowadays. Back in the 1990's when they were winning everything under Sir Alex, many non-United football fans held an intense dislike for the club, mostly borne of jealousy probably, and I was no different. But even on a Monday evening in the close season, the weight of football history, legends, victory and tragedy is palpable as you walk around the place. It's hard to explain but I definitely felt it.
By now, I was in danger of turning into a full blown Japanese tourist with selfie stick and half and half scarf so I took one final selfie (doh!) and headed back to the tram stop and a final use of the Wayfarer ticket back into Manchester city centre.
What a day it had been. I met so many nice people, particularly the kind folk at Bolton, Bury and Oldham, plus the bus drivers who knew what a Wayfarer ticket was supposed to do. Boo to the other bus drivers together with the EV driver who nearly ran me over and whoever it was at Willbuts Lane Chippy who decided that lunch time closing should be at 1.45 pm.
But none of that made the experience any less enjoyable. And as for the ten football clubs I visited? Well, I hate to say it but there can be no doubt that there is something special about Manchester United. And we're all allowed to have a soft spot for a team or teams other than the one we support aren't we? Of course we are, so it was with some relief that I realised the football club that had left the biggest impression on me, during the day, was actually Bury FC.
Bury FC is the epitome of real football and real football people, a community that very nearly lost its football club but through resolve, dedication and sheer bloody mindedness dragged their club back from the brink. A very special football club that I will hold deep in my heart from this day on.
You may still be asking "why Darren, why"? And I can't really give you a definitive answer. Some people collect stamps, some get their kicks from train spotting and others like visiting JD Wetherspoon pubs. I like visiting football grounds. And besides, what the hell else is a footie fan supposed to do with himself in the close season eh?
June really does have a lot to answer for.
Thanks for reading.
Darren.
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