Milton Keynes, 5 September, 2009
Off, then, to the ground that thinks it's called stadiummk. Obviously, for many reasons, this isn't an entirely magical moment, but at least it's a new ground. A few years ago, for a few heady months, I'd seen games at all 92 grounds. Since you ask, I'm now missing Rotherham, Dagenham, Swansea, Cardiff, Burton, Hull, Colchester, Brighton, Morecambe and Shrewsbury and, of course, you never know when newness will stalk.
stadiummk (Jesus, don't they have capital letters in Milton Keynes?) is surprisingly impressive, even with the top tier still unfinished. It looks built for bigger things, just as the club does. And I like the club too, not least because it annoys the luddites, the crazy gang of sentimentalists and the irredentists. Wimbledon didn't want or deserve a football team, Milton Keynes did, hence MK Dons's support always being more numerous than the former Wimbledon's. And in Pete Winkelman, they have a chairman who has delivered what he promised - a viable, upwardly mobile club loved by its locality - and they may yet reach the Championship in May. Their supporters are just like any other (ie noisy and frustrated) and it's a place ethnic minority families want to come to. What more could you want?
It's a shame the decent folk who supported Wimbledon from Southern to Premier League lost their club, but MK Dons isn't franchise shifting (and they really should disentangle themselves from Wimbledon's history and get on with making their own now), it's a new way forwards. Still, they have plenty to learn. The programme is skimpy, the press box open to the elements, there's no milk for the coffee and there's no food. But they do have wi-fi and the security staff are especially friendly.
And there are other winners here: AFC Wimbledon. Nobody seriously believes fans make the trek from South London to Buckinghamshire for every (or indeed any) MK Dons home encounter. So the floaters have long floated off and the glory hunters gone to pastures new but, unencumbered by obstructive councils and not necessarily helpful owners, the Wimbledon fans with the real drive and real talent have built a club that's hurtling up the pyramid and after a couple of years acclimatising to the league everyone still calls the Conference, they'll be back on the pools coupons. So now we have not one but two terrific clubs. What's the problem here? There isn’t one is there?
The game (and if you can find my report on the net, many congratulations because I can't) against Huddersfield is a funny affair. The first half is a slight and goalless business. The second a thrilling five-goal orgy which sees Huddersfield Town pouncing on defensive naivety to come back from twice being adrift to win.
Afterwards, MK Dons’s Paul Ince is common sense personified, suggesting we don’t make a mountain out of a molehill (his cliche not mine) after one preventable home defeat, although he’s on less sure ground when he blames the referee for crimes nobody else noticed.
And I’ve always like Lee Clark, not least since he always had the look of a manager about him. He spars with the local press who react like they’ve had their tummies tickled (which, in a sense they have) and suggests goalkeeper Alex Smithies will one day play for England. I wouldn’t argue with that.