Adventures in Football #107: Blundell Park (Grimsby Town) 

 

August 13, 2024 

 

GRIMSBY TOWN vs. BRADFORD CITY (Carabao Cup R1) 

 

Ah, the Carabao Cup. My yearly opportunity to knock off a few league grounds in the comfort of a tournament that offers discounted tickets because nobody gives a fuck about it. Apart from me. I love a bit of the Carabao. If you’re a Groundhopper looking to knock off a ground that’s normally hard to get into or outpriced, step forward the good old Carabao Cup.  

 

This wasn’t the ideal mid-week set of fixtures. Initially, I scouted around for a Wednesday game before settling on Hull City. Then I needed to find somewhere nearby and simply dropped onto Grimsby. Why not kill two Humberside birds with the same stone? Then the problems began. My wife was at work. My brother was in Wales with his family. Mike was at work. Suddenly, I realised this would be a solo mission and fired off a ‘help’, of sorts, on Twitter. Follower Nathan sprang to my aid and would join me at Hull but Grimsby? Just me, lads. Just me. 

 

I left the house at 10am, aiming to get into Grimsby around 2-ish. Planning on using one of my lengthy waits between trains to grab some scran. My second train, from Birmingham to Nottingham, was so late that I nearly missed the connection! Literally 3 minutes between trains on different platforms. I broke into a little jog, which is not cricket. If the train had been delayed any more, I’d have been stuck in Nottingham. Maybe County were playing?  

 

If I didn’t already know my way around Nottingham, it could have been game over before we kicked off. Not ideal! The short version, after arriving safely in Grimsby, is that travelling from Birmingham to Grimsby is a bit of a ballache.  

I post up a “Hello, Grimsby” tweet and am greeted by condolences. It’s not that bad, is it? I’m staying above the Wetherspoons, by the train station (“The Yarborough”), which I’d recommend unless you despise Tim Martin with every fibre of your being. It’s right by the station and has a little convenience shop nearby, plus it’s a pub so you can get some scran and bevvies. After getting some supplies (water, biscuits, yanno; emergency rations) and a brief nap, it was off into Grimsby on a route of discovery. 

A short stroll later and I was headed towards the docks. There are some pretty buildings around here, although the “to let” sign was a common one. Grimsby feels like a forgotten town. Lost in the mists of time. There are the odd sprouts of urban renewal, but it feels neglected. What would be a thriving, exciting part of town anywhere else in the country, was decayed and collapsing here.  

It was actually quite sad to see. This used to be the home of the world’s largest fishing fleet. If there’s one place in the UK who had a genuine grievance with the EU, it would be here. Falling foul of EU fishing charters and losing out to Iceland over sea space in the Cod Wars. Grimsby is now one of the most deprived places in the UK.  

And there’s evidence of it everywhere. Boarded up buildings, roofs collapsed (see above), waste land, closed businesses and piles of crap on the sides of houses. Despite the sunny day, a stroll through Grimsby and into Cleethorpes quickly degenerated into a depressing walk. It reminds me of Birmingham 30 years ago. Which should serve as hope for the residents of Grimsby, because Birmingham is a lot nicer now than it was 30 years ago. Hopefully Grimsby gets some government funding, and the country address the embarrassment of a town that looks like this in 2024.  

Anyway, with this tour of northern Grimsby complete, we head into Cleethorpes where Grimsby Town actually play their football. I couldn’t even take a picture of this sign without a boarded-up building sneaking into it.  

Grimsby Town’s ground, Blundell Park, is one of those grounds sat in the middle of a housing estate. There are houses backing onto the ground from all sides. There’s even houses right next to the entrances and the club shop. Like Luton’s Kenilworth Road or Goodison Park, there’s no room for expansion here at all. Part of me loves this kind of ground. It’s so snug that you have to walk around a few streets to get to the other side. You can’t just walk around the perimeter. 

This is the main entrance, club shop and ticket office. This is the big beastie, which I should have gotten a ticket in. You can see the sea from up top.  

To demonstrate, here’s a photo from Google, with thanks to Mark Lister for taking it. This shows how close the houses are and how close we are to the sea. It also shows my seat, which is way over the other side in the “main stand” just behind the dugouts. I mistook “main stand” to be the big stand. The bigger stand is the “Youngs Stand” if you want to get a better view. That said, the main stand is one of the oldest in the football league with parts of it dating back to 1901.  

On my way through said main stand, I spotted this unlikely set of directions. It’s not often you get grounds where, if you get there early enough, you might bump into the arriving away team. On my way around the ground someone commented on my AIK Stockholm t-shirt. Something Mike brought me back from Sweden when I had the misfortune of having my flight cancelled. We had a nice chat, and this Grimsby native used to live in Stockholm and went to AIK back before the Friends Arena. Small world*, eh?  

 

*Maybe not so much as the fishing communities of here and Scandinavian countries are more linked than I’d realised. There was a house with an Icelandic flag flying out of it down one side road and fishing seems to be a bunch of lads who just enjoy this business. Maybe that’s off-base but I got that vibe.  

 

When selecting a seat, I simply plumped for one surrounded by seats that had been sold. A poor decision, on reflection. I should have studied the ground more. As you can see the view of the pitch is somewhat obscured by the dugouts and, indeed, the managers standing in front of them. The dugouts are, at least, see through. The managers, less so. A word on the state of the ground though; the seats were tiny with zero legroom and the seats angle forwards. It was a painful way to spend two hours. 

This is the worse view, where the standing home manager would block my view of the right-hand goal. The first shot on target down there? I had no idea what happened. A bit of ‘buyer beware’ for the main stand then! I was in row C, which should have set alarm bells ringing. The good news is I can hear everything the coaches say and we’re right by the tunnel where the players come out. I can see how that would appeal. 

And here’s the Young’s Stand in all its glory. The one I wanted to be in! With sea views and no dug outs. A crushing mistake.  

Before the game gets underway, I manage to snap the moon just off the right of the floodlight. An extremely football photo. I love it. If I was putting together a book of photos, I’ve taken at the football, this would be in it.  

Just when I thought I was fully settled in for the game, we got a mascot. Look at this old duffer! It’s the Mighty Mariner! The fella inside seemed to be having a laugh and my brain has a video recorded of him jogging towards me, which if it doesn’t cause a nightmare at some point, I’ll be shocked.  

Sitting in the middle of a load of hardcore Grimsby fans does have its benefits as I can eavesdrop on their conversations. Half the team is new (hello, League 2) and no one is quite sure what to expect this season. The same is true of Bradford so we go into this not sure of how it will pan out.  

Grimsby field new signing George McEachran, formally of Chelsea. Which allows a dad behind me to start reeling off the players McEachran used to play with both at Chelsea and Internationally*. At one point he was a huge hopeful in the Chelsea midfield. Now they have a million players, he’s playing for Grimsby, aged 23. Football is a harsh mistress.  

 

*McEachran played for the England U-17 team that won the U-17 World Cup in 2017. The same England side that had Phil Foden, Emile Smith-Rowe, Callum Hudson-Odoi, Marc Guehi, Morgan Gibbs-White and Jadon Sancho in it. They put five past Spain in the final.  

 

The game gets underway, and the players don’t seem to be gelling well. Grimsby look decent in midfield but often bypass it entirely with long balls into front players who aren’t good in the air. Bradford look decent but they try a high press and Grimsby constantly play through it. Especially on the left side. One of the youngsters behind me gets incensed when a free kick is awarded for a high boot. “What’s he doing trying to head it down there? It’s called football, not headball!” Moments later Bradford have a penalty but it’s smashed against the bar by former Blackburn and Middlesbrough man Richard Smallwood. 0-0.  

Four minutes later Grimsby took the lead. A nice move finished off by Donovan Wilson with a shot across the keeper. 1-0. Going into half time Grimsby had a clear possession advantage and were decent value for a 1-0 lead. Right before half time there was nearly a horrific injury for Bradford forward Vadaine Oliver. Tipped while jumping for a high ball, he landed awkwardly on his neck and stayed down, not moving. I’ve seen enough neck injuries to know how bad this could have been. Luckily, he was soon up and about but was substituted, presumably with concussion protocols in mind. Andy Cook replaced him, which would end up being more important than it seemed at the time. 

To start the second half Grimsby broke clean through and were denied by Sam Walker in the Bradford goal. It was a sensational stop and one of several he’d manage during the game. It was nailed on for 2-0 without his intervention. This should have served as a good kicking on point for Grimsby but instead they sleepwalked through the next 10:00. Bradford had so much of the ball and so much pressure around the box they could have easily led the game by the hour mark. A game of “ifs”, “buts” and “maybes”.  

The next action is on the sidelines as a clump of Bradford players are hooked and one, Calum Kavanagh, throws his toys out of the pram. An embarrassing temper tantrum from the 20-year-old. Presumably frustrated with his own performance, rather than the call to remove him, as he’d been crap. This kind of childish display won’t get him firing on the pitch and was a poor example to the young lads in the crowd.  

 

Grimsby are asking for Bradford to score. The equaliser came about because a player (sorry, not sure which one) tried to dribble out of his own box. He loses possession and the ball is cut back to Andy Cook (remember him?) who stabs home into an empty net. The defence were all out of position as they were attempting a counter from inside their own penalty area. Ambitious, yes. Stupid? Also, yes.  

Attendance is announced as 3,082 and you can see the empty seats. The Carabao Cup isn’t a draw unless you get a big club. “Bradford’s a shithole, it’s better than this” sing the visitors as time runs out. Bradford were, by FAR, the better team in the second half and should have comfortably won the game. Grimsby keeper Jake Eastwood had to make a staggering SEVEN saves.  

 

It’s the Carabao Cup, so it’s straight to pens. No repeat of his failure for Smallwood as Bradford kick first and lead and then Kieran Green is denied by an incredible full stretch, top hand, save from Walker. Unbelievable for this level. However, Bradley Holliday also sees his pen saved and we’re back to level pegging. The next 15 penalties went in, including Eastwood himself tucking away Grimsby’s seventh penalty. He’s then a double hero, denying Neill Byrne, taking Bradford’s tenth pen, and George McEachran nets for a Grimsby win.  

The best moment of the shootout had to be from Charles Vernam though. The former Bradford man stepped up to take his penalty in front of the Bradford fans to chants of “City reject”. He slotted home his spot kick and then shushed the visiting fans. A proper Billy Big Bollocks moment. With the penalty kicks done, I’m finally able to get off the horribly uncomfortable seat and make my way back to the hotel, which feels very far away without the stop offs in pubs. It takes me 45 minutes. By the time I’m back at the hotel, I’m already knackered and sit eating out of date crisps bought from a corner shop (Walkers Pigs in Blankets BBE Feb ‘24) and watching Alien: Resurrection. I turn it off at the point where it gets crap* and go to sleep.  

 

*Where Ripley falls through the floor, and we get the Alien sex stuff and the newborn hybrid. Honestly, what in the fuck were they thinking. Prior to that Resurrection is the tits though. I’m a bit annoyed they didn’t get it together in the final third, much like Bradford tonight.  

 

Before leaving Grimsby, let’s give them some scores for our little league table.  

 

ATMOSPHERE: 

There was a fair bit of grumbling, which you love to see in this part of the world. Nobody does it better. But it was quiet, and it was left to the visiting Bradford fans to make the bulk of the noise. Until they got shushed, obviously. ** 

 

COST: 

Normally, you get a nice fat discount for Carabao Cup, especially the early rounds but this was £21, which feels like a lot. It’s still less than you’d pay for league action, but it felt on the pricey side. *½ 

 

QUALITY: 

Aside from some poor finishing (pens aside) it was a good game. Nice end to end feel, until Bradford totally dominated a huge chunk of the second half. *** 

 

EASE OF ACCESS; 

Blundell Park is 2.3 miles from Grimsby Town centre, which feels like a fair old distance. To the point where you could argue they should be called Cleethorpes Town. Oddly enough, Cleethorpes Town play in Grimsby. You can get a bus but it’s still a ballache and driving would be easy enough but there’s no parking. ** 

 

MISC: 

Seeing as Grimsby is going to get absolutely clobbered on the ratings, I’ll give them some bonus points in here. The ground is a proper football ground. A proper old-fashioned ground with history and a feel of a place that’s been there forever. Engrained in the community. Part of the mariner spirit. The old wooden entrance doors, the enormous free-standing floodlights and the hulking Youngs Stand all contribute to that feeling. The seats were uncomfortable though and I couldn’t see past the dugouts half the time. **** 

 

OVERALL: 12.5 

This feels like a harsh score and a demonstration of how my ratings system doesn’t really work. Who cares if the crowd weren’t vocal? Who cares if the match wasn’t any good? Who cares if it cost more than it should have? Well, that’s what I use to rank grounds, so I guess I do. Sorry.  

 

My takeaway from Blundell Park is that I would fucking love to go there if it was closer to me. I’d go all the bloody time. Grimsby may be an area that needs work, but the football ground is great. Ignore the score, I give this ground a thumbs up.