Newton Abbot Away in the FA Cup

The first away trip of the Cup run took the Swifts to Newton Abbot on a day that began with confidence and ended in dust.

Newton Abbot Spurs had the sort of ground that made no promises to anybody. It was cramped, hard underfoot, and close enough on three sides to ensure that every tackle had an audience and every mistake a chorus. A bit like Greenway Lane, without the slope. On the fourth side, there was a large expanse of grass where a cricket match was occupying the attention of the spectators as they waited for the football match to begin.

Then came the first sign of danger, and with it, Branches Broom’s first transformational moment.

A ball had broken loose twenty yards out, been worked wider than it ought to have been. It was then returned quickly and low through bodies before Sidmouth had fully reset themselves. For a moment, it had looked the perfect sort of goal for a home side in such a tie: untidy, opportunistic, and met from close range by a Newton Abbot forward who had every right to think he had scored. But Branches, with that improbable reach of his and the instincts of a man unafraid of dangerous situations, had got across in time and turned it away with a save full of courage and conviction.

The home crowd groaned. The Sidmouth players looked at him differently afterwards.

It was not simply the quality of the save. It was the timing of it. Great sides did not always score first. Sometimes they simply refuse to concede while the day is still undecided. Branches had that effect now. Pike had clapped him once, which from Pike counted as a speech. Sid had said nothing, which from Sid counted as approval.

As the game approached halftime, and the game waited for a goal kick to bring the ball back into play, there was a loud cry from the cricket match. A sturdy West Indian batsman had launched the cricket ball through the air, over the boundary and straight towards the Swifts’ goal. Branches Broom saw its arrival and casually raised his gloves and caught the ball. Jack Hembury cried out, “Howzat!” Branches passed the ball to Tug Dymond, who threw it back first bounce to the bowler. From that moment on, Branches Broom appeared to be unbeatable.

The second goal settled it. It came in a manner that confirmed the mettle of this new Swifts side. Newton Abbot, chasing the match with more heart than shape, had lost possession in midfield. The ball had been worked out quickly to Bert Soper on the left, and Bert, who had been waiting all afternoon for the right sort of opening, had delivered early and properly. With no needless flourish, the ball appeared in the danger area. Sid challenged for it, and it broke free. Bert, who had continued running, dispatched a shot into the net with a shout of joy. The goal resulted from Sidmouth’s fitness and discipline. They had still been running cleanly while Newton Abbot had begun to drag themselves.

At the final whistle, the home crowd offered the sort of reluctant applause that admitted, however unwillingly, that the better team had won.

This article has been heavily abbreviated from the football novel “Sidmouth Swifts’ Stupendous Season” by P.A.Nash. The complete match account can be found in Chapter 3 of the book. It is available right now in paperback or on kindle from Amazon.