For once brief moment tonight, I had a glimpse of Bristol Rovers past. All too briefly, I was almost walking to Eastville Stadium. A night out with work colleagues in the Greenbank – astonishingly, now a pub that sells lovely pizzas (or is it a pizzeria that sells some amazing beers?) – I was told to go to Easton Jobcentre by she who must be obeyed to wait for my lift. As I waited by the (ghastly smelling) American style fried chicken takeaway for one fleeting moment Rovers were playing.
Seeing the mosque to my left and the islamic information centre to my right brought me back to earth pretty quickly, as did the ghostly remnants of the Black Swan. Easy to believe Rovers hadn’t played here for 30 years.
The underpass is still there, some bits of terracing too, where the North Bank used to be. But everything else has gone, replaced by Swedish furniture and a car park.
On that field played Harold Jarman and Mickey Barrett, beneath the floodlights with their numerous missing bulbs, their names called by Ray Kendall with his “Once again, firstly” introductions.
Pointlessly, I ventured to the River Frome which ran behind the South Stand, recalling, oddly, the National Front members selling “Bulldog”, singing the same songs as Britain First, the BNP and now Ukip. And then I thought: how little has changed.
Except that Stapleton Road has changed and not for the better. It is not the changing cultures that make this end in particular so ugly, it’s the general decay. It is hard to believe it would look as bad as it does now if there was a football team there. And yet, St Marks Rd, so run down in the 1980s, breathes with new life, with the magnificent Sweet Market, created by Idi Amin’s refugees. What a favour he did us there.
I know this piece is hazy, as are my memories of football at Eastville, but the sense of the stadium, our ground, our spiritual home, never leaves me. I am not sure it ever will.
Even when I drive up the M32, I still see the floodlight that stood alone for many years, the final reminder of the stadium. I always look for it, always remember that we played there once, and I always think what might have been.
It was just a glimpse of the past tonight but it was like yesterday.
