Lewes remember how to win

The Dripping Pan, for once, wasn’t dripping. When you vote it your favourite ground nearly every summer (it did come second on one occasion, and we were surprised that the then-CEO didn’t yell “stop the steal” and send Baz the Haff to storm the Isthmian Offices in a particularly garish shirt) we, of course, understand why; but it is far more picturesque without rain, and every time we visit the heavens seem to open. On this occasion the train doors opened to blue skies and glorious sunshine and we had to check it was the right stop.

The mood on the terraces-at either end- didn’t entirely match the weather, and was rather in tune with the usual forecast. The match today, a Sussex derby between Lewes and Whitehawk, was a face off between two sides who were, on recent form, the worst in our top flight. The Rooks had taken four points from the previous eighteen available. The Hawks had picked up two. If we extended that to ten matches, Lewes had picked up five solitary points, whilst Whitehawk were hardly flying much higher, with six. Those results had left our hosts, particularly, in some jeopardy; four points clear of the drop zone with four matches remaining, and with most of the sides below them suddenly picking up points. The decision of fourth bottom Hashtag United to seek enforced relegation had perhaps helped (although we’ll have to wait for an FA ruling), but third bottom Cray Valley PM had won their previous two and certainly hadn’t given up hope of survival.

Today’s match was, then, particularly critical for the hosts. The Rooks always take an enthusiastic following to away matches, but they’ve been given little to be enthusiastic about this season apart from, perhaps, a wider selection of stodge to sample; only the bottom two had a worse record on the road. With four matches to go, and their two away matches against sides fighting for play off places, they needed to pick up points at the Pan. Today looked to be their best opportunity, but we certainly didn’t expect a classic. 

We did expect a large crowd, however, and it seemed we were going to get one. Before the match there were large queues at the bar, pie shop, pizza parlour and burger bar. The latter, particularly, seemed at attract the local characters, and one of those seemed to be entertaining some new spectators.

“I’m the local streaker, and I have to work today. Please try not to be disturbed.” 

The microphone was making the PA announcer sound like Norman Collier. Eventually he gave up on announcing the teams, perhaps worried he’d be offered a job hosting the GB News revival of the ‘Wheeltappers and Shunters Club.’ There is probably no truth in the theory that the foul- mouthed chap walking in front of the stand who was shouting rather unpleasantly at his young charges was auditioning for the role of a replacement Bernard Manning. 

We got underway and the Hawks charged forward. Within thirty seconds they had a corner, but wanted more- there were loud shouts for handball. The referee wasn’t at all interested, and the corner was wasted; indeed it should have been better used. Ninety seconds later the visitors had another chance, Charlie Lambert failing to connect with the ball with the goal at his mercy. 

It was, then, entirely against the run of play when the hosts took the lead from their first attack. Devonte West kept his head and kept his shot low, managing to avoid all of the bodies ahead of him, including that of Hawks keeper Dion Henry. 

Goal: Lewes 1 Whitehawk 0, Devonte West, 5 minutes 

The visitors continued to dominate possession, but remained unable to deliver an accurate final ball. They had a number of free kicks, too, finding the side netting and clearing the bar, and one which found the head of an unmarked Nathan Cooper who somehow headed wide. 

The crowd were rather quiet at both ends, and the silence was broken by a Spaniel chasing an orange ball to the right of the stand, near the burger kiosk. He was barking for attention, or perhaps for chips. Had he actually tasted the chips he’d have quickly realised that he was better off with the ball. 

The Pan was certainly a dog-friendly zone. There were two spaniels, two French bulldogs, a Jack Russell terrier, and a labrador, none of whom seemed even slightly interested in the football. That said, the place was so quiet, particularly in the first half, it was fair to wonder if most of those watching were interested in the football. 

Five minutes before half time a good run from Danny Bassett saw the ball end up with Charlie Walker, who swivelled and shot wide. The home fans awoke for around twenty seconds, sang “Lewes, Lewes,” then, having confirmed their location, fell silent once more. To be fair, they hadn’t been given much to excite them, but the away fans were rather more exuberant despite their sides deficit. 

Home keeper Louis Rogers hadn’t had a save to make, despite the visitors having much of the possession. He might, however, had been disturbed when a visiting fan behind him delivered a rather operatic response to a goal kick. It was rather a break from the usual defecating pirate routine which often accompanies such set pieces (“You’re s***, arrr’), and perhaps inspired by the poster near the ground which was advertising the delights of Glyndebourne.

The referee blew for half time just as Lewes were about to put the ball into the box. Finally the home fans found something to make a noise about, and make a noise they did, and lots of it. The crescendo continued as the officials left the field, and then everyone left their position to join one queue or another. The attendance was announced as one thousand, five hundred and eighty, and it appeared that all of them required a drink at exactly the same time. 

Half time: Lewes 1 Whitehawk 0

We had an exciting start to the second half. First, Beaux Booth for the hosts pulled a shot wide at the edge of the box, and then, at the other end, Lambert forced Rogers to charge out of his goal and block an effort. 

At the top of the grassy bank, a man dressed in a priest’s green surplice, with half of a plastic football on his head presumedly to resemble a bald pate, was giving a blessing to the proceedings. It was Easter Monday, perhaps he thought that’s what Jesus would have wanted?

The match became a little scrappy. It began to follow a pattern; player runs down blind alley. Loses possession. Repeat, but in white. 

“We’re gonna score in a minute,” sang the visitors- and indeed, a minute later, we had a goal. Sadly for the Hawjs chorus it was at the other end, Charlie Walker doing all the hard work, Alfie Allen firing home.

Goal: Lewes 2 Whitehawk 0, Alfie Allen, 64 minutes

A nine year old in a Brighton shirt attempted to lead a chorus of “Whitehawk get battered, everywhere they go.” Unfortunately for the miscreant his friends didn’t seem to know the words, so it turned into a solo; but the fight did seem to have left the visitors, Lewes doing all of the attacking. They did liven up, however, and a shot from Joel Daly required a parry from Rogers, before substitute Ollie Godziemski found the outside of the net rather than the inside. On seventy eight minutes the outcome was confirmed, a through ball finding Bobby Unwin, who did well, taking it wide of the keeper and then firing into the bottom corner. 

Goal: Lewes 3 Whitehawk 0, Bobby Unwin, 78 minutes

Finally the home fans finally relaxed and began to have a sing song, and they had much to sing about. A quick glance at the League website showed that all of the sides below them in the table were losing, and if that continued the Rooks would put a seven point gap between themselves and the drop zone, surely enough with only three matches remaining. Some Hawks fans were beginning to filter out, not expecting their side to do a ‘West Ham’ (for all the good that did them), and they missed a long stoppage after Ryan Bernal and Louis Rogers smacked into each other in their attempts to defend against another Hawks foray. Bernal had to go off, sadly, Rogers able to continue, but that was the last notable moment of the match. 

Final score: Lewes 3 Whitehawk 0

On days like this it is easy to see why the Dripping Pan is not just your favourite ground, but one of the loveliest in the country. That isn’t, however, just down to its surroundings, beautiful though they are, but down to the dedication of the fanbase. The work of the Supporters Club around the ground, providing funding where they can and continually putting in hard labour to improve the facilities, is particularly notable- and they don’t just do that at the club, they focus on the community, too. They are, for example, often to be found collecting for the local food bank and trying to make a difference for people who perhaps don’t even like football. It’s laudable, it’s lovely, it’s one of the things that make Lewes such a lovely place to visit, but…and we whisper this quietly…perhaps one of the reasons that the Pan is so well liked by visiting fans is that it is rather too lovely?

A few years ago one of the Rooks notables (yes Barry, we mean you) wrote a piece on Dulwich Hamlet which upset not only some of the South Londoners but then-Rooks boss Tony Russell. His crime was suggesting that things at Champion Hill were a little, for want of a better word, beige in their outlook. Musing on that theme, it is quite clear that the fans at the Pan are passionately invested in their football club. They turn out in numbers, they care enormously, but- and it’s just a suggestion- perhaps they could be a little louder about it? Perhaps- in the nicest possible way- the Pan needs to be a little less, well, nice?