Last summer, my learned colleague penned his tale of his weird and wonderful relationship with this football club. As the new season edges ever closer, I decided I’d join him with my own…
It’s been an interesting journey. Often far more complex than seems necessary but what’s very apparent in recent years is the meaningful feeling it all evokes and a sense of belonging you can’t shake off - even when you want to.
The Beginning
Spending my early years in South Wales, Barnet were not the obvious team for me. An Arsenal-mad father (not a local to the valleys, originally) meant my early football colours were well and truly nailed to that mast. The occasional trip to London for a game at Highbury got me into it from a young age. However, geographical proximity and an early understanding to give local sides support resulted in regular visits to the then recently reformed Newport AFC (now once again Newport County) in the Beazer Homes League or struggling Division 3 outfit, Cardiff City, in front of sub-3000 crowds at Ninian Park. It was the latter where I inadvertently saw my first Barnet game. On October 6th 1995, I was present for a 1-1 draw in the Welsh capital. It was the fifth football match I’d ever attended. I can’t tell you much more than that. Barnet were wearing the striking Printing Company sponsored home shirt from that season. Justifying it as the kit I technically first saw us play in, prompting a recent purchase of that shirt on eBay for more money than I’m willing to admit. No excusing such behaviour really as a fully grown man, but here we are.
Supporting my local team is something I’ve tried to uphold everywhere I’ve gone, having moved around a bit. These days, when not at Barnet, if I can make a game, I’ll happily take a wander up to watch Cockfosters. Back when I was at university in Nottingham, Hucknall Town became an adopted side - an association that I’ve still (sporadically) kept with some other pals from that era to this day. Even whilst living on the other side of the world in Malaysia for a couple of years, Selangor were chosen as my team there. I will never understand how some people can do it all via the TV. Nothing beats going.
Anyway, I’d moved to London in May 1998. Superb timing for a young Arsenal fan; a first Premier League title being won on literally my first full day as a London resident. They were local, too. However, as is the story for many and probably even more so these days, accessibility was becoming a challenge with rising ticket prices and demand.
In July 1999, I was at the Muswell Hill Street Festival with my family. We spotted a stall clearly to do with football that on closer inspection was all about the campaign to Keep Barnet Alive. Attention given immediately, we got chatting to a few of those present. The one person I do clearly remember being there was Village. He gave my dad a fixture card for the upcoming pre-season games and a decision was made there and then. Underhill, here we come.
Friday 23rd July 1999, the final day of the school year and my end of term treat was a first visit to Underhill to see us take on Luton Town in a pre-season friendly. A goal by Gary Ansell won the game 1-0 for Barnet. Whilst not the most memorable of fixtures to first attend, the setting got me straight away.
Choosing inexplicably to sit in the Family Stand (presumably a choice made by my dad based on the name), I do distinctly recall scanning my surroundings and immediately feeling something a little special. The northern line trains ricketing over the bridge in the opposite corner. The twinkle of the floodlights. The very apparent, quite mind-blowing for a first time visitor, slope. The mish-mash of stands, none like the other. The smell of deep heat emanating from beneath the main stand. The access and up close and personal nature with the players. A magical place to be.
My first proper game, a few weeks later, was what really cemented that this would be somewhere we’d come back to again and again. A bonkers league cup (Worthington, in those days) 1st Round, 2nd leg against Division 2 (League 1) Bournemouth. Barnet trailed 2-0 from the 1st leg at Dean Court. Within 21 minutes, it was 0-2 on the night and 0-4 on aggregate. A reasonably accurate setting of expectations for a new Barnet supporter.
However, a superb fightback on the night thanks to a Scott McGleish double and a 3rd from Warren Hackett turned the game around. Despite a multitude of late chances and near misses, we couldn’t quite grab a 4th to force extra time and bowed out, but with heads held high.
This was me hooked. The rate at which the obsession grew was quite something. A £10 kids’ membership purchased with £1 a game tickets on the North Terrace. Very quickly it became unusual to miss a home game; undoubtedly helped by a table-topping first half of the 99/00 season. By October, I was documenting the games in my own scrapbook and could tell you the squad numbers without looking. Although the John Still brand of football was never the most revered, it was impossible not to fall in love with the likes of Lee Harrison, Scott McGleish and the wizardry of Darren Currie in that effortlessly cool Loaded kit.
A high point of that first campaign came being mascot for our first game in the new millennium for my 11th birthday. A fiery 2-1 win over Southend featuring a superb on-pitch brawl resulting in captain Greg Heald chasing Southend’s Martin Carruthers down the tunnel after both seeing red. That whole day is such a vivid experience. Ken Charlery on the buttons blasting garage music in the changing room and bending one (out of many failed attempts) past Danny Naisbitt at the North Terrace end just before kick off. Glorious.
That first season ended in play-off disappointment. Disappointment rather than heartbreak as Peterborough cruised to victory. The second half of the season blow up had been a sad demise but the future looked bright…
The following season was just weird. In the footballing sense, we went from a play off placed side as late as November to the basement club that would drop out of the league on the final day. For me personally, let’s just say I was going through a ‘difficult’ pre-teenage stage at home. By this time, I’d been allowed to start going to games with just mates as accompaniment. On one early season afternoon, I decided to do this despite being told it wasn’t an option based on other recent behaviour. The repercussion was severe, with my dad taking my membership book off me for an extended period. That learned me. I ended up missing months of the season and only attending a handful of games, following results despairingly from afar.
I was still one of the ‘lucky’ ones who made it in for that Torquay game on the final day, having queued up from midday. It’s again, another very vivid memory although I can’t claim to have felt the enormity of it all as a 12 year old. The two blokes who streaked had been stood behind us - that was a bit of light if rather confusing relief. I also remember seeing myself on the 10 o’clock news behind the goal, head in hands, after Currie’s penalty miss.
The club and longer term fans were very much staring into the abyss that day. I was disappointed, sure, but this very much just felt like the start…
In Deep
The 2001/02 season was when I really made the ‘Barnet leap.’ This was my team. This was what I wanted to do with my newly gained, early teenage independence.
I’ve mentioned in on our podcast before but in 2001, I sadly lost my mum. This obviously a significant thing to happen to anyone at any age. At this young, impressionable and formative time, I’m so glad I’d found this relationship with Barnet Football Club to provide something of safety net and enormous comfort blanket. I had some decent mates at school and some not such great influences. What began to develop on the terraces and supporters’ bus over this season and the coming years probably had an awful lot to do with me making some sensible choices with positive long-term impact.
January 2002, two days after my 13th birthday and I was granted permission to do my first away game with a friend. Boarding the supporters’ coach to Cambridge United in the LDV Vans Regional Semi Final (moved to FA Cup 3rd Round day due to other fixtures being cancelled) armed with a homemade Barnet banner on the inside of a cereal box (it said ‘Barnet Boyz on Tour 2002’ if you wanted to know) and an awful lot of excitement. A 2-0 defeat against higher opposition was a respectable outcome on the day and now not only did I have the Underhill bug, but also a penchant for coach trips.
Over the remaining months of the season, I went to a few local aways concluding with a memorable trek to Northwich Victoria on the final day for a 3-0 win in their last game at their old ground. I’d met a group of older lads from Potters Bar who had taken me under their wing - the proprietor of this website was one, he took a little while to warm up, but I got him in the end. All of a sudden this wasn’t just about the football but a social experience, too.
2002/03 was a mediocre, nothing sort of season but packed full of excitement for someone with their first season ticket. Ticket number 00006 for my £55 first East Terrace one. For the next few years, I always made sure I got my application form returned on the same day as they were released to secure the 00001 book number. Number 1 fan, me. I’ve still got my handwritten ‘season diary’ somewhere from this campaign. So very cool.
Martin Allen becoming the manager in the spring of 2003 was the next milestone. An unbelievable 12 months ensued with the club being brought back to life and everyone dreaming of a return to the promised land of the football league. He was exactly what we needed at the time and me and my peers absolutely lapped it up. Call it a gimmick. Call it hollow. I don’t care. It is was an unbelievable ride. I’d not picked a golden era to start following the club yet still fallen in love. Actually winning the odd game and the place being great fun all round opened another wide eyed door.
First loves are great but they tend to have an inevitable ending. Whilst the likes of Giuliano Grazioli, Simon King and Ian Hendon would be adorations of longevity on the pitch in this era, Mad Dog was not the same. I think you could genuinely call his departure for Brentford in March 2004 as my first major heartbreak. The same month, as an awkward 15 year old, I remember asking out a girl I fancied and getting turned down, too. It was just a very dark time all round. Maybe the feelings and reaction to the first bit of bad news had a correlation with the outcome of the other?
It got worse before it got better. A rite of passage for a young football fan is to be a blubbering mess at a game. That day for me came on early May Bank Holiday 2004 at Shrewsbury Town’s Gay Meadow in the play off semi final. After unbelievable stoppage time victory drama in the home leg, the brutality of penalties in the away tie meant no trip to the much heralded Britannia Stadium in Stoke (Wembley was under construction) for the final. A lot of emotional outpouring stood on that fence. It really hurt.
The pain didn’t last too long, however. Paul Fairclough had stepped in as interim to see us through to those play offs and was kept on ahead of the new season. The core of Allen’s side were kept with a talented midfield added: Dean Sinclair, Dwane ‘Casual D’ Lee, Nicky Bailey and Richard ‘Tricky Dicky’ Graham. Their names needed writing out in acknowledgment of the incredible impact they would go on to make.
2004/05 was like a dream. Sure, if I wanted to be picky then maybe turning 18 rather than 16 that year might have been more fun but all the same this was near optimum time for an all-encompassing year like this to happen. We were ridiculous. For the first half of the season, we just smashed anyone and everyone we came up against. Full of energy, goals and a good share of tenacity, too. It was just perfect.
Where do you start? Almost falling down the many steps at Halifax in August celebrating an absurd 2-3 comeback win with a winner from 40 yards; silencing 9000 Carlisle fans in October in a 1-3 top of the table win at Brunton Park in a day with 12 happy hours spent on a coach; Simon King’s volley at Aldershot in November to secure an electrifying 2-3 win; the sheer front and confidence of the second half display in a 1-3 win to go 13 points clear in mid-December after beating Gravesend & Northfleet. This without even recognising any of the magical afternoons and evenings at Underhill during this period. All the above before Christmas!
The second half of the season wasn’t quite so giddy but largely remained a high. Sealing the title at home to Halifax on 9th April 2005 remains one of my happiest days on this planet. It just had everything. The celebrations into the night in The Weaver were everything and more a very green youngster could imagine. What a day, what a time.
The obsession only grew. Into the football league for 2005/06, a summer spent literally counting down the days until that first game against Bristol Rovers. It proved to be something of an anti-climatic year, with the step up proving a little more than expected. A bright start become a real toil. No away win from August until May particularly galling for a regular traveller. I still have nightmares about Liam Hatch’s last minute miss to win the game at Peterborough in March 2006.
Amidst the challenging league form came a fantasy cup draw away to Manchester United. That and winning the league within six months of each other. We were truly spoiled, although the only spoiling on the night was done by referee Richard Beeby sending our goalkeeper, Ross Flitney, off the in the first minute. Not quite a ‘what might have been,’ but an element of feeling a little robbed of the full experience did linger.
We stayed up on the last day of that first season back in League Two. The following season was less than spectacular but saw an exciting cup run and incredible night at Underhill in the 3rd Round knocking out Colchester of the Championship.
I had now turned 18 and faced the prospect for the 2007/08 season of Barnet no longer being my local team as I packed my bags for Nottingham Trent University and gave up my season ticket.
Perspective shift
It would be fair to say as the 2006/07 season went on, the shift from unconditional love and desire to watch lower league football to more of a focus on having a good time became the primary aim. Coming of age meant the opening of the pub without the underage stress and invites with the older lot on the train to away games. Gainsborough Trinity, Lincoln City, Mansfield Town all in that season before a raft of silly days out into the new campaign. Weekends were now a thing, too. Torquay and Morecambe the staple seaside haunts but my new abode in Nottingham would also provide adventure for many.
During my three years in the midlands, I wouldn't say the affiliation lessened at all but perhaps the way in which it was shown. Yes, I did have a signed Barnet poster on my wall throughout university. No, I didn't make it back for that many games. I was having a good time and via online commentary, Jeff Stelling and choosing a central enough student location to travel to a good chunk of away games, I got by.
Like most of us (I assume), I still enjoyed (and did at school, and do in the work place now) being 'that Barnet fan' and the generally positive labelling I have found comes with that from fellow football supporters. However, I no longer felt the need to be at every game to be a 'proper' supporter. All credit to those that go to quite literally every game. It was something I really wanted to make happen for a while but at different stages, life in one form or another has always got in my way. The retirement years, maybe?
The Football League hadn't really turned into the dream we'd cooked up in those early noughties Conference years. Most seasons seemed to follow a pattern of a poor start, unrest, before getting it together in time to stay up. Paul Fairclough stood down at the end of the calendar year of 2008, passing the reigns to his title winning captain, Ian Hendon. His 14 month spell was full of ups and downs. Memorably going top of League 2 in September 2009; only for him to be sacked the following April following a dire run which saw relegation a very real possibility.
We've talked about some highs in this but you'd go a long way to beat the trip to Grimsby Town in May 2010 as an awful day out. A 2-0 defeat marred by aggressive pitch invasions and a terrifying exit from Cleethorpes where my group of Barnet mates mixed with uni pals got stranded at a desolate railway station fearing for our lives. We did get out ok, with one of the lads from London suffering a significant train fine for being on the wrong one home. The planned big night out in Nottingham was called off. It was home and to bed early. Luckily, we stayed up the following week as we then began the 'surviving on the last day years.'
2010/11 was a horrific season, for the most part. Mark Stimson. The brief return of Paul Fairclough. A three game mad Martin Allen renaissance and then Grazioli's Great Escape. It ended amazingly, but wasn't half a slog. I was back in London, trying to work out what I wanted to do with post-student life, pining for the freedom of the previous few years. Barnet was not a fun outlet at this time with it all going wrong on the pitch and a miserable atmosphere in the increasingly sparse stands. By now, I was very much at a picking and choosing stage which would last for the next few years. No longer was Barnet playing at Underhill the guaranteed way I'd spend a Saturday. Ridiculously, some Saturday afternoons would be spent in The Pavillion, Queens Arms or Weaver but not venturing through the turnstile. Priorities were interesting in what we might diplomatically call a bit of a time of personal discovery.
In saying all the above, the final day of that season and the great escape v Port Vale still ranks very much at least in my top 3 Barnet days of all time. 8 of us spent the morning misbehaving on Soccer AM before bouncing to the ground full of arguably misplaced hope and optimism. Izale McLeod's penalty and Lincoln capitulating at home to Aldershot pulled off the most miraculous of escapes. The scenes at full time were wonderful. A proper pitch invasion and a party that went way, way into the night. As a stand alone feeling on the day, it was as good as a title.
But we were in something of a depressive cycle by now. Lawire 'The Magician' Sanchez was appointed manager for the next campaign having come in as Graz's 'consultant' for the final few games of the previous one. He had a decent CV and hopes were high after a reasonable first two games of the new season, with wins for overnight stays in both Morecambe and Portsmouth (League Cup). By September, things weren't so great. By November, we were in one of the most toxic Barnet away ends I can ever recall at Kingsmeadow for AFC Wimbledon away. It was becoming increasingly hard to enjoy it by now. Others were drifting away and whilst the love was there, it wasn't the same. Going out with a questionable individual who worked behind the Durham Suite bar during this period arguably only added to things. I was massively intertwined with all things Barnet whilst perhaps beginning to feel more removed than ever before.
Again, a final day salvo at Burton Albion this time would keep us up thanks to the third coming of Martin Allen. This was a spectacular day out with the best people, but definitely proved to be something of a watershed moment. 1000 odd Barnet were at The Pirelli that day, with a good chunk in our group on the train from Euston early that morning. When we came back the next August, with an unknown (Mark Robson) managing a team of kids and the prospect of a potential final season at Underhill, things didn't look great. A horrendous start to the season didn't help either. I'd purchased my first season ticket since 2006/07 after an enticing BOGOF offer but wasn't always utilising this and away days had become a thing of the (albeit recent) past.
Edgar Davids turning up was a bit of a jolt. The sight of him a few rows from us in the Main Stand (having made the 'grown up' move from the East Terrace - I regret giving that up, looking back) for a 1-4 hammering at home to Plymouth with a ballooned Collins John up front was quite surreal. As was his debut in our first win of the season on 20th October 2012 against Northampton Town just a few days later. It was too little too late though as our horrific start left us with too much to do. Even with a Champions League winner in the team and results turning, I found it hard at this time to get fully immersed once more.
Then, in February 2013 came the dreaded announcement that after many years of flirting with the idea, this would actually be our final season at Underhill. The same day I bought 6 tickets for our nearest and dearest to stand together on the East Terrace one final time for the Wycombe game in the April. As it would transpire, this would be (of the era) the classic 'do or die' end of season Barnet game.
It was the most phenomenal, bittersweet day. The Weavers' beforehand, the cricket pitch by The Pav, glorious weather. A crazy game punctuated by a late Barnet winner and even later penalty save. The pitch invasion bordered on emotional. The standing in an emptying ground after in silence very hard to describe. We knew a seismic event was happening for me and the friends I'd made at this ramshackle venue over the past decade or so, however, the impact of this day took me a good few years to fully exercise.
The blazing row
Relegation at Northampton Town came the week after the ecstasy of the final Underhill game against Wycombe. My reaction at full time surprised me. Before the Wycombe game, I'd tried to make peace with the fact this would be the end of Barnet as I'd known and loved it. I thought I was ok with that. When the whistle blew at Sixfields and our eight year Football League stint was at an end, I found myself somewhat tearful. As you'd probably have assessed by now, Barnet FC runs pretty deep. I'd maybe not given this the credence it deserved at the time. The sadness did turn to anger soon after with the impending move.
I was always very much against the idea of leaving Underhill. I don't claim to know all the facts or specifics of say, access arrangements, to Priory Grove. For me, at the time, it didn't make sense. Time has passed, you can't reverse what's happened but it rankled for a very long time that it was an unnecessary move. It still makes me very sad that it was the choice we took at the time and I don't think it's ever been truly justified. We've all moved on, me included, but as hopefully articulated to now, Underhill was a very special place to me and it pained me that it was taken away.
As the summer of 2013 ticked by, I remained steadfast that I would not be going to watch Barnet play in Harrow. I had moments where I doubted resilience to this, but it did prove the case. I drove over there one morning on a day off work to see the new ground in the close season - and felt nothing. I knew a void would be there but, at the time, I felt more comfortable dealing with that than following the 'new' Barnet to HA8.
The 2013/14 season arrived. I had a brief early relapse by attending the August Bank Holiday fixture away at Braintree. We won 3-0 on a lovely summer's day. I saw many a familiar, friendly face - but things didn't feel right. After all those years of home and away support, checking Barnet news being my first response to anything, it didn't feel like this was where I wanted to be. Divisions began to appear. Pro v Anti-Hive. Friendships always maintained, but there were bumpy bits with some at this time. It wasn't pleasant.
Flux The team did very little in that first Hive season, finishing outside the play-offs and Edgar Davids departing. I hadn't felt like I was missing much until they decided to play the Martin Allen card late in the campaign. Ahead of his first full season back in charge for 2014/15, there was the chance to submit questions to the manager via the website. Whilst somewhat removed but still clearly keeping one eye on proceedings, I couldn't help but submit something. I queried how he'd get the buzz back and try to engage with the lost souls like myself.
In classic Martin Allen style, I got the ultimate response. An invite to the training ground for a cup of tea and a chat. I took him up on this and had a very amusing Thursday morning in August 2014 with him. Before I left, he made me promise (in front of the whole first team squad, pretending to record me on his phone) that I (and my then girlfriend, now wife) would attend the next home game against Alfreton as his guest. Who could turn that down? In the event, a last minute Luisma Villa free kick did make it a memorable first visit to The Hive - Allen, his backroom staff, even John Motson in his office beforehand, all contributed to make it quite the experience.
I found myself, having broken my Hive duck, then attending several games in a row as Barnet proceeded to run riot at the top of the Vanarama League. However, despite the on pitch success, by Christmas, the novelty had worn off. I did the fickle things of diving on the run-in bandwagon in April, travelling to Kidderminster for the penultimate game and then being there for the title win v Gateshead. However, it felt a bit like gatecrashing someone else's party. Whilst not 'out of it' for long, this wasn't something that felt like mine anymore.
It was a strange time. A good Barnet pal of mine (let's call him Duplo) was a constant voice during this spell telling me that he too had had a mid 20s lapse only to come back to it all. I didn't believe him. At times, I really wanted to care about it all and enjoy it, but for whatever reason, I just couldn't.
Promotion back to the league did little to encourage improved attendance. The odd mass away day with the old gang; the occasional interesting fixture at The Hive, but no real commitment. Access was an issue. The Hive was always a drive and a pain to reach. I was coming off the back of and still slightly in the era of football meaning a day in the pub. There was no cost-effective way of doing this at The Hive and (it felt at the time), no one to do it with. Football should be fun. For me, in this era, Barnet wasn't.
Distance
The 2017/18 season would have made for a great behind the scenes documentary at Barnet. A revolving managerial door, the unexplainable appointment of Graham Westley and about five seasons worth of players in one. I attended a grand total of four games and through working in a local school, took a team to represent the club at a national tournament under 11 tournament in Swindon (having won a tournament at The Hive) with the school team in Barnet kits. Even this didn't have the re-igniting effect I had half hoped. I was there for the final day when, once again, Allen was back to save the day. This time, it was a bridge too far and we went down due to shithousery in the Coventry v Morecambe game. It was a strange day. I was on the pitch with the school team beforehand and would be lying to say I didn't feel a pang of disappointment at the final outcome of the game. However, the day did involve disputes over support of the club, current location and future. As above, it was a challenge to truly find the enjoyment.
In those years of flux prior to this, I had found myself attending a variety of other football. The day after the 2018 relegation against Chesterfield, I was at Bolton Wanderers to complete the 92. Such things provided a bit of fun and purpose to going to football, but it wasn't the same. Irrespective of all this, a new life chapter was about to open following acceptance of a job in Kuala Lumpur with a start date of August 2018.
The Chesterfield game at The Hive would prove to be my last game for some time. It was odd being so far away but I would be lying if I didn't say resentment towards both the location and fate of Barnet in this period wasn't the over-riding emotion. Following results with a 7/8 hour (depending on time of year and clock changes) time difference made for a mix going to bed emotions on many a Saturday. We were hardly tearing things up in the 2018/19 season and jeering the decisions made by those in charge was definitely a feature. Arguably most surreal of this time was the fact that living in Kuala Lumpur, a work colleague used to turn up for Friday seven-a-side football in a Barnet shirt. I watched the Brentford cup game in his flat at 3am on a Tuesday morning - but had to leave at half time due to that being the unfortunate day of a school residential trip with a 5am start. Only seeing that game to 0-1 somewhat symbolic of my relationship with Barnet at the time.
Flicker
I arrived back in the UK just after our last pre-lockdown game against Woking. Expecting our first child but after an incredibly tricky pregnancy, my wife and I luckily managed to fly home just before the world stopped. I found myself back in London in the spring of 2020 with a fair bit of time on my hands, temporarily residing at my in-laws. I needed a focus in the interlude before nappies and sleepless nights.
It was in this time, discussions took place with two of my very closest Barnet friends about the idea of an Underhill themed podcast. Episode one was recorded, released and received reasonable feedback. I guess people were happy to consume pretty much anything at this time. The idea grew and over that strange, shut-off summer of 2020, I lived many a dream by engaging in Zoom conversations with a plethora of my Barnet heroes from the 90's through to the early 2010s. This led to all sorts of feelings and nostalgia that had very much been repressed for a long while. It’s still unclear where the motivation for it all came from, but it was certainly a chance that’s not regretted.
Once football did begin again, I found myself in a socially distanced beer garden at The Railway Tavern with a very solid group of individuals that I had not seen for a long time. Barnet did a smash and grab 0-2 win at Yeovil in the play-offs and I found myself genuinely enjoying it. It wasn't to be the week after against Notts County, but for the first time in several years, a small flame of passion had been lit.
The 2020/21 season was Barnet's worst for many generations. Comically bad. Manager after terrible manager. Player after terrible player. No fans allowed in the ground, being subjected to these atrocities via a stream. Well, would it not be the most Barnet of things for this to have peaked a bit of interest? Given just how bleak it was, I couldn't help but find myself following results, watching car-crash interviews and generally closely observing what was going on.
We were incredibly lucky with the way other things transpired meaning that we didn't get relegated to regional football that year. We should have been. Nonetheless, we avoided that fate and over the summer of 2021, a bright new dawn was promised with Harry Kewell coming in and a chap by the name of Dean Brennan as Head of Football.
2021/22 proved to be marginally better than the debacle of the previous season, but it was tough going. However, fans were back, and I couldn't resist popping my head in. I went to four games - Notts County H (0-5), Wrexham H (0-3), Wealdstone A (1-0) and Dagenham & Redbridge A (7-3). Not much to really whet the appetite. Kewell was dismissed by September and Brennan guided us to safety, via many a tough result. Despite getting hammered what felt like most weeks and only seeing dross, something had grabbed my interest...
A whole new world
On the eve of the 2022/23 season, following a very decent promotional ticket offer, myself and fellow exile, The Wardrobe, took a gamble. Season tickets were purchased. Despite only visiting The Hive something like five times in the previous five years, a gamble on such a commitment was made.
It was a strange first few months. When making the decision to buy the ticket, I’d been quite flippant that I’d probably go ‘now and then,’ and that this would never be something that would take huge precedence. You’d have thought I’d have learned by now.
By the mid point of the season, I had found my way to being well and truly back in it. Not only rarely missing a home game but by the turn of the year, finding myself in the occasional away end too. Maidstone in the FA Trophy Quarter Final a real stand out moment. The elation when Laurie Walker saved that final penalty. The buzz was back.
It wasn’t without a bit of inner conflict that I managed to throw myself back in. I have never been shy in my damning of Barnet playing at The Hive and fully appreciate the extent to which some words had and still have to be consumed. Regularly being asked, ‘are you lost?’ during that first season of going again by friends in the ground was a fair cop. Barnet playing where they do is still something that doesn’t sit right with me but hopefully there is light at the end of a Bring Barnet Back shaped tunnel on that front.
Whilst timing has worked out pretty well for a regular return, with three seasons of top 5 finishes to enjoy, it has been more than just that (I bought the season ticket after finishing 22nd and 18th too, no glory hunting here!). Over the past couple of years, a number of other mates who’d also drifted away have found themselves back involved to varying degrees. It’s great spending regular time with these people again somewhere that has so much meaning. Barnet FC, for better or worse, is undoubtedly a big part of my identity. It’s great to have a hobby with a sense of purpose and feeling. I really enjoy my job but it can be quite all consuming, I’ve very much found football in these last few years to become that welcome release and distraction from the day to day. Maybe something that becomes applicable to many of us as we get a bit older and the plate of responsibilities piles high.
With two young kids in tow now also, whilst not always aligned with the relaxing, escapist nature of football I’ve just referenced, it is great to be able to start to involve them, too. I really hope it’s something we’ll have as a bit of quality time together for years to come - until perhaps they’ll also do the well-trodden move from going with parents to their own group of mates. Only time will tell.
The 2024/25 season just gone feels a very apt way to draw to a conclusion. Much like the experience twenty years previous, we were treated to a simply magical ride. The first half of the season was a to and fro with York City but the way we kicked on after the turn of the year was nothing short of remarkable. An enjoyable mix of what felt like old school days out with long-standing pals and experiencing some of it with the kids. The title winning day was incredibly special and a memory to really hold on to and cherish. Memories of the evening in The Railway Tavern perhaps not quite so crystal clear, but a phenomenal night at very least on a par with The Weavers two decades before.
So, there we have it. Twenty six years (so far), lots of ups, downs and oddities galore. There’s some things I’d probably change or have done differently when it comes to following Barnet over the course of this time, but I wouldn’t swap the enthusiasm I’m feeling once again for the start of a new season. It’s fair to say Dean Brennan has revitalised the club from top to bottom and it’s an exciting time to be a Barnet fan. Feels quite a nice full circle at this point that I’ll be attending the first game of the new season against my former local side Newport with my dad, who has quite a lot to answer for in relation to my football fandom.
To close, whilst the on-pitch stuff has been superb lately, the real fight off the pitch to get us back to Barnet is the most important battle of all. The thought of watching us back where we belong is a dream that I desperately hope becomes reality. Keep the faith on that one despite recent hurdles. Together, we can Bring Barnet Back!
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