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A fair trek this one but it was planned for a while with a slight difference.
My regular away match travel companion, Paul, spent his university years in Hull and with Bridlington being a short train journey away was keen to go and explore his old haunts before the trauma of another Bulls away game.
It meant an early start for an evening game; I left my north Cardiff home just after 7am. Yes, I did cross the main road not at the zebra, being a Tuesday it was busy, I had to sprint ahead of an onrushing SUV clearly breaking the 20mph limit, the things I do to try and bring us some luck.
Met up with Paul at Birmingham New Street, we had a brief stop in Sheffield, yes of course we visited the Tap, arriving in Hull about 1.
A sunny, spring like afternoon showed the city and its marina in good light, some fine classical buildings interspersed with post war functionalism, Hull was bombed a lot and one city centre artwork gave a hint of bitterness that perhaps Hull's wartime sacrifice is forgotten compared to the likes of London and Coventry.
Naturally, we took in some pubs too, proper historical gems before catching a train to Bridlington. The Three B's micropub was a good pre match pick, before we searched out the ground.
It made a pleasant change not to be herded into one inhospitable end of a football ground, no need for segregation with only 508 spectators. Also meant we had access to their decent (and warm) clubhouse. Nice of Joanie Roberts to take time to pop out of the Directors’ room and have a chat with us, it was appreciated.
The ground has a sizeable footprint, space for it to grow a bit if and when necessary behind each goal, one reasonable stand and plenty of terracing, some covered (not needed as it was a dry evening).
The pitch looked like some of those we got used to in our journey from step 5, wasn't an easy surface to play on and certainly affected the quality of the game. At least it was grass though!
We lined up, Richardson, Skinner, Quansah, Howkins, Hudson, Willcox, Tustin, Martin, Donowa, Daly and Munday. Seemed a 4141 formation as for the Chester game.
New loan signing Lane, or Fleetwood Mick as Chris Jones promptly christened him, was on the bench. We were still in the pub when we saw the team, it caused some consternation with what appeared 6 loanees in the match day squad. Panic appeased when we found out we'd signed Keziah Martin on a permanent deal, it's more than a little difficult keeping up with all our comings and goings.
The first minute was dramatic. There was a penalty shout for handball against Howkins, (hand to ball or ball to hand, didn't look deliberate but we may have got away with that one?), followed by a swift break and a Munday shot fingertipped round the post by the colossal Whitley in the Boro goal (no corner given).
The game continued in end to end fashion for a while, Daly lively down our left, an effort from Donowa was straight at Whitley, while we looked a bit uncertain ourselves at the back.
Boro were forced into an early change and the game became more scrappy and bitty as the half progressed, not helped by the pitch. Richardson's best save of the evening, a full length dive to his left to keep out a Green shot was the closest either side got before half time. There was another, quite ludicrous, shout for a home penalty that seemed to convince the Boro fans there was some sort of world refereeing conspiracy against them, some of the moaning was rather comical frankly. Can't believe I would ever be so one eyed… surely not?
Half time I wandered into the clubhouse, mainly to warm up a bit and listen to the moans of the home fans.
Boro started the brighter after the break but gradually I felt we started to look the more likely. Willo, on for Donowa, showed sparkly feet to create space, his cut back was just behind Munday who turned neatly and shot, forcing a fine sharp save from Whitley. We'd gone more 442 with Martin pushed out right and the energy of the two Cheltenham loanees was creating some attacking space but, a lack of consistent accuracy (hopefully this will improve as these players gel), perhaps not helped by the pitch, meant we failed to turn some decent positions into chances.
The moaning of the home support was matched by their bench, we stood near it second half; like last week against Chester, an interesting contrast between Downes concentrating on cajoling and coaching his own side and the other bench taking out any frustrations on the officials. Eventually, the ref had enough and waved a card at the Boro bench. To be fair we had 4 booked on the pitch, not sure the home side had any.
If we were hopeful going forward, it was far from one way traffic, Boro's number 10 Harry Green standing out for me as their player who regularly tried to make space for himself and others, at times we had to defend with a hint of desperation, but you certainly could not fault the commitment and togetherness. A bit of the ‘they shall not pass’ attitude we showed on that unbeaten run this time last season.
Lane came on for the hard working Munday and immediately turned a defender 40 yards out and headed for goal, the opportunity breaking down as so many did, around the edge of the area. Shortly after this a free kick from our left was missed in the middle and found Willo in space beyond the far post, unfortunately his crisp first time volley flew over the bar.
As the game entered the last 10 minutes, the home side looked stronger and in the closing stages we had to withstand a succession of set pieces. Previously this season, you felt we'd have succumbed to such pressure, so great to see us fight hard to preserve a well earned point.
Good to see Aaron Downes coming round the pitch after the final whistle and thanking supporters for attending. Perhaps around 50 Bulls in attendance, no segregation made it difficult to measure that accurately, but well done to each and every one of you.
As for our trip to Hull, it's almost 30 years since I completed the then 92 Football League grounds there, at Boothferry Park of course and quite a bit longer since Paul's days at uni in Hull. Back then his occasional trips round the north and north east of England were to support us in the Frank Lord days. Some of you may shudder at the recollection, but Lord was famous (in my house anyway) for his programme notes claiming to see “a chink of light at the end of the tunnel”; our last two performances have given us just that, there is hope of better times in front but much work to be done.
See you at Worksop.
Report from Nigel Preece