Bristol: Clichéd Football; Radical History

Temple Meads via Swindon, 14 quid?
Temple Meads via Gloucester, only 7?
Well, that meant a ride through the warehouse edgelands,
And the buddleia rusting railway lines to Gloucester
(‘YES MATE’, as it said under the bridge),
But there was time enough for a trip down football’s memory lane
With a Swindon fan at Stroud:
‘No football at Ebley, now, look.
Nothin’.
Nothin’ at Ebley anymore’
I said I was off to watch Derby at Bristol City,
And he recalled
Swindon beating Derby one nil,
November 5th 1968:
‘Best Bonfire Night I ever had.’
We talked of FGR:
‘You be careful at Forest Green on Friday.
I know about 200 Swindon fans will be at the FGR end.’
‘I know mate. I’ll be one of them. With my red and white scarf.’
He looked at me with new and slightly befuddled admiration.
He slapped me on the back:
‘Fair play on ya, mate. Fair play.’

Temple Meads via Swindon, 14 quid?
Temple Meads via Gloucester, only 7?
Well, that meant a ride through the warehouse edgelands,
And the buddleia rusting railway lines to Gloucester
(‘YES MATE’, as it said under the bridge),
But there was time enough for a trip down football’s memory lane
With a Swindon fan at Stroud:
‘No football at Ebley, now, look.
Nothin’.
Nothin’ at Ebley anymore’
I said I was off to watch Derby at Bristol City,
And he recalled
Swindon beating Derby one nil,
November 5th 1968:
‘Best Bonfire Night I ever had.’
We talked of FGR:
‘You be careful at Forest Green on Friday.
I know about 200 Swindon fans will be at the FGR end.’
‘I know mate. I’ll be one of them. With my red and white scarf.’
He looked at me with new and slightly befuddled admiration.
He slapped me on the back:
‘Fair play on ya, mate. Fair play.’

I watched the world go by at Gloucester for a while,
A goods train trundled through:
60091, Barry Needham,
Named after a coal train controller:
Barry died tragically in a railway accident,
Giving his time freely, on a day off –
His mates paid for the nameplate …

I read some Ian Sinclair through the Severn Vale
(Old trainspotting terrain with my brother),
Thinking I could divine Ian Sinclair’s style:
Minute description; simile; recent fact; historical fact;
Slightly occult reference; minute description …
OMG,
Is this what we all do?

We rattled through the suburbs of Bristol
To reach Temple Meads,
Middle class pasty at Harts,
Then a ferry to Hotwells, by the Nova Scotia,
To walk past the beer-fuelled Derby fans:
‘We are Derby, Super Derby, Super Derby, Super Rams’,
And so a tryst at the John Atyeo statue,
A sight of police with guns (Parsons Green),
And an open end to end game of two halves
(‘May the best team win!’),
0-1 after 45 minutes,
4-1 after 90 –
Sometimes the clichéd games are the best:
There’s a reason for a cliché, isn’t there?

The next day I walked past St. Mary Redcliffe
(Coleridge and Chatterton and Old Rowley –
And bells ringing to celebrate the defeat of a slavery abolition bill),
Past The Ship and Colston Parade,
To reach the Docks, the MSHED,
And the Bristol Radical History Festival
(‘Countering Colston’):
A wonderfully vibrant day where kindred spirits,
Like minded activists, historians, performers, walkers,
Artists, speakers, poets, writers and puppeteers
Presented a different view of the past:
History from below,
Authentic history,
History that goes beyond the clichéd:
For while a cliché might suffice
When describing a train journey,
Or a football match –
Real and Radical History
Takes you beyond the cliché of Heritage:
It cleanses your perception,
It opens doors,
To momentarily extinguish
‘The guttering candle’
Of clichéd Heritage;
Then illuminates the darkness
With a Captain Swing blaze of truth.