Needham Market is a very small town just nine miles from Ipswich; it is home to about four and a half thousand people and Needham Market Football Club.

For a long time (90 years) the football club minded its own business and merely kicked about in local Suffolk leagues and then the Eastern Counties League. But in 2010 the Eastern Counties League Championship was nabbed and five years later so was the Ryman League North Championship. So today Needham finds itself in the Ryman League Premier League, which is quite something for a club from such a small town and they now get to travel all over the south-east corner of England.

The trip along the A14 to Needham is quick and easy but the town also benefits from an hourly train service from Ipswich. If you go by train you not only help to save the planet but you also get to use Needham Market railway station, built in 1849, a thing of beauty and a joy ever since. From the station it’s a gentle uphill walk to Bloomfields, Needham’s rustically charming home since 1996. It’s a typically bright and breezy early Spring afternoon and today The Marketmen as they are known are at home to Havant & Waterlooville from Hampshire,whose nickname is The Hawks. It costs £10 to watch this standard of non-league football and for another £2 a programme can be had. The teams enter the arena to the strains of Oasis’s, ‘Roll with it’. The Hawks are second in the league table and Needham third; anything might happen so to ‘roll with it’ seems like wise counsel.
The Hawks have a good following in the crowd of 434 and they have mostly taken up residence in the barn-like covered terrace behind one goal, known as the David (Dillon) Lockwood Stand. Havant and Waterlooville are towns just outside Portsmouth and on today’s evidence their supporters are a kind of mini version of the Pompey fans. They keep up an impressive din in the first half with a number of well adapted versions of classic songs. The first one up, to the country and western tune of Country Rose begins with a namecheck for player Jordan Rose but goes on to provide helpful detail about local geography “ Jordan Rose take me home, To the place where I belong, Westleigh Park, Near Rowlands Castle, Jordan Rose take me home”. Having such a long name as Havant & Waterlooville might be seen as a hindrance to imagining catchy chants but this is overcome with some nifty editing such as “We love you Havant, ‘looville; We love you Havant, ‘looville; We love you Havant, ‘looville; Oh Havant and ‘looville”. It’s just a shame ‘looville sounds like another way of saying toilet town.
The entertainment in the first half was largely off the field, although Havant did have a shot after about twenty minutes which was saved and the re-bound was headed into the net, but disallowed thanks to a zealous linesman; a goal for either side would have been nice really. Strangely the disallowed goal incited one Needham fan to turn to the Havant supporters, grin inanely and shout “Who are ya? Who are ya?” This was a somewhat odd and unnecessary question given that the away supporters had been loudly singing about Havant & Waterlooville since kick-off. Some people just don’t pay attention.
Unfazed by this solitary outburst Havant continued with their repertoire producing what seemed like a faithful rendition of “Under the Moon of Love” with no references to any Hampshire football clubs or players, but I could be wrong because the voices of some of the ‘choir’ were a little slurred. Following on was a version of “Glad All Over” but substituting the words “and I’m feeling glad all over” with “and we’ve got Ryan Woodford”. This capacity to celebrate through the medium of song otherwise unheard of players with the most prosaic of surnames is one of the joys of lower league football. The songs of Havant and Waterlooville had been the highlight of the first half and overall it had been a bit like watching a match at Portman Road with the home supporters looking on in complete silence whilst the away supporters thoroughly enjoyed themselves. What’s wrong with Suffolk people?
Having moved to a point not far from the tea bar as the half time whistle went I was able to avoid the worst of the queue and settled down at a Yogi Bear style picnic table with a pound’s worth of tea to read the programme. The advertisements were especially impressive, in particular the full page colour one on the back page for “Certified high quality recycled aggregates for all your building and resurfacing projects”. This contrasted nicely with that for Boux Avenue, purveyors of lingerie, nightwear and accessories which featured a picture of a big-breasted brunette wearing a cross between a brassiere and chiffon mini-dress. Finally, there was an advert for Mark J Morsley & Associates, financial advisors, which would be very boring were it not for the fact that Mark Morsley is the Needham manager , though sans the letter ‘J’, but it has to be the same bloke; though he looks more like a financial advisor than a football manager. What that assortment of advertisements says about the type of people who the promotional team think attend Needham games I am not sure. But I like to think that the old boys in caps who make up a good part of the crowd are the target audience for all three; financially careful lotharios with a penchant for extravagant DIY.
Half-time brought a change of ends for teams and supporters with Havant fans now taking over the seated Les Ward stand whilst Needham had the ‘kop’ behind the other goal which at last inspired a handful to once or twice shout ‘Come on Needham’ or something like it. Meanwhile the Havant fans were joined in the stand by two overweight, middle aged blokes in matching blue suits and blue and yellow striped ties. These two most stereotypical, small time football club directors had sat in their dedicated seats in the main stand during the first half, but were now moving amongst the people. Another of the wonderful and yet also slightly amusing and at the same time slightly worrying things about non-league football is the presence of blokes in suits and club ties, all doing their bit for the club most laudably, but also rather anachronistically, it’s all so stuffy and respectable; it’s like the 1960’s never happened. Why can’t they just dress as if they’re going to a football match like everyone else?
The Havant supporters were becoming more and more slurred but Simon and Garfunkel’s Mrs Robinson was still recognisable as they sang “Here’s to you Lee Molyneux, Havant loves you more than you will know, woh,oh,oh”. A Havant supporter succeeded in heading an errant Needham clearance over the hedge and the Havant centre forward was spoken to by the referee after the Needham goalkeeper and a defender collided; I expect he had sniggered, which could be deemed contrary to the FA’s ‘Respect’ campaign. The two corpulent directors left the stand for the board room to a chorus of “Off for a sandwich, You’re going off for a sandwich” when in reality it looked like they had already eaten a couple of plates full.
Supporters adapting popular songs, old blokes in flat caps, stereotypical club officials and a goalless draw; it’s a great game is football.