Big Boyes
Bridlington Town vs Cleethorpes Town, Queensgate, Northern Premier League East Division, 8th February 2025
‘We don’t need the SatNav, I know how to get there!’
Bold words from Ben, the man who thought Chester and Chesterfield were the same place. But as today’s trip is to a location a bit nearer to home, Liz is going to trust Ben on this one. And in fairness we do make it across the North Yorkshire Moors and all the way down the coast to the outskirts of Scarborough before Ben announces that he doesn’t really know where he is or where he’s going.
‘Directions to Bridlington, please’ Liz asks the SatNav.
It’s always wise to ask politely so as to avoid angering the technology and thus avoid being directed to do a u-turn into the sea or similar.
‘Getting directions to Bridlington Dental Services!’ announces the SatNav proudly.
We decide that’s close enough. It’s got to be in Bridlington, right?
‘Go past these lights and take the first left,’ the SatNav tells us, the ‘you hopeless pair of fools who don’t know how to get out of Scarborough …’ is left unsaid and hanging heavily in the air. ‘I’m sorry. Again. Take the second left,’ says the SatNav.
‘Wait, did … did the SatNav just get it wrong?’ Liz asks.
‘It did! And then it apologised! It’s becoming self-aware!’
We’re not sure if we’re relieved that even the SatNav isn’t infallible, or concerned that it seems to be mimicking human thought patterns. But one way or another, we make it safely out of Scarborough and before long we’ve arrived in Bridlington. Remembering at the last minute that we’re not actually going to the dentists, we instead find a massive and empty car park close to the football ground.
Bridlington would be a lovely spot in the summer, that much is clear immediately. It’s got all the seaside essentials - a huge sandy beach kissed by gentle waves. A harbour with bobbing fishing boats at anchor. More souvenir and ice cream shops than you can shake a stick of rock at. Fish and chips. Amusements. A fun fair. Today, they’re mostly closed. It’s cold and dull, and the tide is beating at the sea wall in huge, grey surges.
‘Shall we go and get a coffee?’
In the absence of a Caffe Nero1 we settle instead, and rather peculiarly, for a Boyes store2 which promises ‘a rooftop cafe with panoramic views over the bay’. The shop itself is much bigger than most of the branches in our local area.
‘This is a BIG BOYES!’ Liz announces rather too loudly as we climb the stairs to the third floor. The coffee is okay, and the views are, as promised, tremendous. But that’s not all. There is also the unexpected treat of the Boyes company museum, in the form of a replica shop interior from the early part of the last century. Obviously we have to investigate, and we gaze in horror at some of the most eerie animatronic figures we’ve ever seen. One of them is a waxwork child with a pallid face, who seems to have been partially warped, possibly after a lifetime in a shop window in the sunshine. There is a woman in a state of perpetual, everlasting surprise. And a chap who is seated - this one moves! He creaks in a bit of an ominous way, his arm moving slightly and his head tilts towards us. He’s considering something. It’s something sinister. Liz thinks he may be a friend of our SatNav. Or maybe he’s just measuring a hat. Repeatedly. Forever. Maybe it’s an evil hat…
Perhaps it’s time to leave the Big Boyes.
We go for a walk along the seafront. There are many signs for the ‘land train’. Liz remembers the land train vividly from a childhood trip many years ago - a jolly, colourful tractor pulling several carriages all the way from one end of the bay to Sewerby Hall at the other end. All the way along the seafront there are signs:
“Land train stops here. Priority to Land train. Beware! Land train! Make way for the land train! All hail the land train! THE LAND TRAIN IS YOUR GOD NOW!”
But not today, as the land train is not running.
What there are though, are toilets. Toilets EVERYWHERE. Dozens of them. Thousands of them! Wait until you see the whites of their eyes/porcelain, lads!3 If you’ve got a bladder problem and you’re looking for a seaside holiday, go to Bridlington! And, to make the day complete, to Liz’s delight, right on the seafront we find BRUTALIST CONCRETE TOILETS!
For lunch, we decide that it has to be fish and chips, and we find a nice little cafe near the harbour which is open (a minor miracle, all things considered) and have a really decent lunch. Comfortably replete, it’s back out into the cold to the football.
It’s a nice ground, and a mere £8 entrance fee. There’s a decent programme, a choice of pin badges, and for an extra 20p there’s a team sheet on offer. In order to obtain one, Ben has to chase a man in a hi-vis jacket halfway around the pitch, but he does get one. So, it’s all going well. And we’ve found some decent seats with a good view of the whole pitch. Opposite where we’re sitting is a small stand labelled ‘The bus shelter’. It’s sponsored by Esk Valley - a local bus company, which we think shows a certain sense of humour. Then we notice … it is actually made of three bus shelters in a row! We still decide that we’d prefer to sit down, despite the appeal of the bus shelter.
‘I’ve seen Cleethorpes before. They’re called the owls, and they have a special ‘owls’ chant. It’s quite irritating, but I think that might be the point…you’ll see what I mean.’
Liz is secretly hoping that they’re going to hoot like owls. Or possibly howl the word ‘owls’ like a pack of wolves. Rather disappointingly, they just chant ‘ooooowls’ rather loudly.
Oh, and then there’s the football match itself. The first half is a good, even game which neither team deserve to be losing, but one slight lapse in concentration by Bridlington gives Cleethorpes the lead. At half time we continue our odds-defying streak of not winning half time raffles. The second half begins as the first half ended with fairly even football. There are lots of balls booted high over the stand where we’re sitting - every time we listen for the bounce of ball on roof it has floated right over the top.
But there’s a reason that Cleethorpes are at the top of the league and Bridlington aren’t, and as the second half progresses it becomes clearer. Clee’ take their chances when they come with a certain degree of ruthlessness. 0-1 becomes 0-2, then 0-3. When the final whistle goes. Bridlington should feel a bit disappointed because, for much of the game, they matched their opponents, but it Cleethorpes made the most of the moments that mattered.
The ooooowls head for home and so do we. The Sat Nav guides us safely past Bridlington Dental Services through the maze of toilets and land train stations.
‘I know the way from here,’ Ben announces as we pass through Scarborough, towards Whitby. ‘Remember that time I turned off that roundabout near Whitby into a weird layby instead of going down the right road?’
We laugh.
Minutes later, Ben nearly accidentally turns off a roundabout near Whitby into a weird layby instead of going down the right road.
Total brand loyalty wherever possible!
For anyone who hasn’t been to the North East of England recently, Boyes is a chain of small department stores, a bit like Woolworths used to be.
This is a reference to the film Zulu, if you’re utterly confused.