Grimsby Town (H) - League 2 - 25th January 2025
Managers. How many have you had? For me, a relatively paltry nineteen, whereas Beans correspondent Dave, was on a more impressive thirty-nine. Since 1985, Barrow have had thirty-nine managers. Pretty much one for each year—and, leaving out totemic Wilkie, passionate and gritty Daz and Dave and, of course, Ian Evatt's 'Perfect Storm'—their careers flow though quickly. Sometimes with warm memories, sometimes with raised eyebrows and furrowed brows.
This one was buying me a pint.
I like to be early for the next defining epoch. So there I was, poised with an awkward smile and slight embarrassment to be actually meeting a football manager; a slight, daft frisson that somehow even as a middle-aged bloke I still have.
In strode Andy Whing—the next victim/hero, positive and purposefully striding towards me to shake hands with a firm grip and grin. First impressions? Smiley with more than a hint of steel and casually dressed. Peady in tow, smile flashing nearly as much as his dazzling trainers.
Any meeting with players and management for an 'informal chat' can be incredibly awkward. The worst in my memory was a pre-season Casson-inspired creation, where two players were forced onto each table. The more sociable attempting to use what had clearly been given as conversation starters while others started mournfully into their phones. We endured the latter and ignored the former.
Thankfully, this wasn't it. As AW held relaxed court, the Cross Bar began to fill up and it was a cheery atmosphere. On such occasions you sometimes get a long chat with a truly experienced fan and I was delighted to be next to a gent with sixty years watching Barrow on the clock. Subjects covered: Hitching to away games in the sixties, sleeping in railway huts, Yorkshire swingers, the police canteen and most startling of all, that 'Barrow Rule the Third' had absolutely nothing to do with the actual league position.
I was still reeling from this when 'the gaffer' reached our table. And this man was GAFFERY. Imposing but relaxed, fun to talk to, lots of smiles and laughs with a real, visible passion for the game. 'Smiles on faces' and 'intensity' will be the stock phrases but he means them and it looks like they reflect his character.
Equally, a dislike of 'sulkers' very apparent—I suspect there's two or three players we won't be seeing much more of at all. Reassuringly, he didn't say who. That said, he was excited by the quality of much of the squad. He was delighted with the arrival of MJ Williams, certain he would provide solidity.
To the game! JUST WHING FOR US! banner held aloft on a colourful Holker End which helped set an expectant but lighter tone. The team showing many a change, including a Pressley/Smith up front, Williams holding, Duru down the right, Kyle Cameron into a rough and tough-looking defence.
I settled into my seat as we scrambled an early chance away. 'He's louder than the last one' my wife said, laconically signalling the passage of careers in the EFL. Indeed he was. Andy Whing brings 'kicking every ball' to new heights.
'YESRAAARACMONPRESSCOMONCOMOM' he roared sporadically, this delivered while pacing the technical area like a Viking raider, stopping occasionally to disembowel a Lindisfarne monk.
And then—THE CROUCH where he adopts stops and hunches, with total focus on the action. Eyes boring into the heart of the game, like a snooker referee touched by psychosis. 'YESRAAARACMONPRESSCOMONCOMOM' and it's off to the longboats again. This is going to be great fun, no question.
Not that in a Barrow crowd we are ever all bouncing along in a tidal wave of ecstasy. Aaron Pressley choosing to leave a pass had a lady behind me exclaiming angrily 'He's shit already!' Jeepers.
Amid a fairly drab opening, it was working. Duru, who had already signalled had scorching pace, was set off again a slide rule pass cleverly left by Spence and the ball at the feet of Robie Gotts. He had plenty to do, feinted, went outside and battered a drive low into the opposite corner. Happy 150th Robbie. Here's to many more.
'Robbie Gotts, sponsored by Bailey Parrington!' roared Bailey Parrington deliriously over the tannoy. And the mood was certainly lifted as half time arrived.
We'd looked more solid. Williams is rather like an unfussy but incredibly effective stop sign. 'Can't go this way mate, sorry!' This meant the release of Gotts and Spence who on this early evidence will flourish and get the glory. We are defending deeper, I think but with real solidity and pace and skill on the counter. But it's early days, we remembered as Bailey listed a Domesday Book's worth of sponsors.
Penalty! Clear penalty. 'It can't be worse than Mahoney' someone muttered darkly beside me. It wasn't, but though well placed, was slow and telegraphed, well seen and saved. Poor lad I thought as I worried that the lady from the first half would spontaneously combust.
On we went, next up a huge stramash by the advertising boards. Whing was interesting here. I half expected him to charge down the touchline, or at least tear a massive strip off the 4th official, but instead he remained focused. Crouching ready for the game to begin.
Gotts curled cross landed at the feet of Tyler Smith and all of a sudden it was 2018 again. A shimmy to make space, ball buried into net. Welcome back, Tyler the Finisher. In the happy relief that followed, can I just make a plea that our scorer is not lumbered with the 'Doo wah diddy' chant lads? Please.
Anyway, more happiness was to follow when our most prolific scorer Theo Vassell scored from another well-delivered set piece.
And that was that. Lots of smiling faces and singing. We'd been starved of positivity and here it was. Andy Whing went for a kind of wave of a mighty fist to the HSE and can be hugely pleased. His interview was common sense, enthusiasm with an underlying ocean of passion and expectation underneath. Early days, but a good start.
So for Dave, the thirty-ninth step. As the hero said in the book of that name "I believe everything out of the common, the only thing to distrust is the normal." The earliest of days, but Andy Whing appears to have a bit about him.
At least we are feeling a lot more positive following the next chapter, as we climb into the longship for a raid on Newport. SKÅL!
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