In this guest post, Sean Dudley describes the famous Kop at Wrexham AFC’s Racecourse Ground. Did you know that the Racecourse Ground is the world’s oldest continuously used international football stadium? Wrexham is Wales’ first and oldest club too, founded in 1864, so this is a ground of special significance. You can read more on the roots of Welsh football in my book, Origin Stories, but read all about the Kop here…
Following your team to outposts of the British footballing pyramid is not always kind to the body. There is usually seating of some sort for anybody who may struggle to spend 90 minutes deploying the old jiggly-knees-to-stay-warm technique. But for many away trips, it is the terrace that you and your fellow supporters occupy.
I feel it important at this juncture to differentiate what I would describe as a ‘true terrace’ from simply a ‘stand-with-no-seating’. Five-stepped, well-covered, all-standing stands are fairly commonplace in British football’s lower tiers. Less common now, but once a frequent sight, are sloping concrete behemoths that curve from the goal’s posterior all the way behind either corner flag. They often have a roof that barely covers half of the rows, and shambling barriers clad in scratched and flaking paint.
A recent away day to Wrexham in North Wales promised a view of one of British football’s last remaining true terraces. Long decommissioned, the Kop at the historic Racecourse Ground oozes character. It is seen in historic footage concerning Wrexham AFC, with its concrete steps rammed full of fans on the day of Wrexham’s winner-stays-up battle at the Racecourse Ground against Boston United in 2007, and when Wrexham played Anderlecht in the Cup Winners’ Cup in 1976. It was obviously there when Wrexham inflicted one of the most famous FA Cup shocks ever on the mighty Arsenal in 1992. This was the day that the Wrexham fan, player and general legend Mickey Thomas scored what can only be described as an absolute screamer.
“I watched my first game in the old Pigeon Loft stand on the Kop – Wales v Scotland – and I played in front of a packed Kop week in, week out during my days as a player with Wrexham and Wales,” Thomas said in an interview with The Leader back in 2012. “It’s a crucial part of the ground. It’s iconic and I know the supporters loved watching the game from there. I loved the Kop and ask any other ex-Wrexham players and they’ll say the same.”
Many terraces seem to have been designed to a mantra of ‘the easiest way to enable as many people as possible to stand on a hill or small mound without getting their feet too dirty’. A true terrace feels more organic, feels more ingrained with the pitch, with the football, with the match.
But terraces the size of Wrexham’s Kop, also known as the Town End, have become rare since the horrors of Hillsborough. Following that dark day in 1989 and the publishing of the Taylor Report, stadia up and down the land transitioned from standing to seating for good reason. Though impossible to argue with the logic of this, this change altered the experience of the typical football fan. For supporters of clubs who have moved home since that date – the likes of Stoke City, Middlesbrough, Hull City or Leicester City and plenty of others – a certain earthiness which was present in their former grounds is lacking in the plush set ups at their new stadia.
This plushness has filtered down somewhat into the lower leagues. At National League level, the grounds of Chesterfield and Notts County are two that impress with their safe and clinical setups. Here, the only earthiness tends to come from the scribblings of previous visiting fans on the toilet walls. The cerebral experience of standing at a football match, swaying with the rhythm of what is going on, having that greater physical attachment, is almost impossible to attain in these kinds of surroundings. It could be argued that pining for this type of experience is the bedrock on which the current movement towards safe standing is built.
A stand at the Emirates or the Etihad is without doubt a work of engineering marvel. But its utility is so glaringly obvious that the dynamic feels similar to what you might get at the Drury Lane Theatre. There is a stage, and seating, and never the twain shall meet (until a ball goes flying into the rows of punters). The true terrace however seems to seamlessly flow out of the very earth that underpins the ground and the club and the fans and the history that all that brings.
To understand this more fully, it is worth diving into the history of terracing and football stadia in the UK in general. The first matches tended to be watched from the side of the pitch, the way a park match might be today. An early example is the inaugural FA Cup Final, which was watched by a reported 2,000 spectators who paid a shilling to stand beside a cordoned off section of The Oval cricket ground in South London.
When purpose-built football grounds started to appear, wooden structures were often built to afford greater vantage points. This changed following a disaster at Ibrox in 1902, when part of a wooden stand collapsed. This caused hundreds of fans to plummet 50 feet, resulting in 25 casualties. As with any such incident, the need to never repeat the same mistake loomed large.
After Ibrox, concrete and solid earth started to be used to create slopes and hills that would afford a view of the match. As time moved on, many clubs built reasonably substantial stands to the sides of the pitch. This meant that the ends behind the goals were often where the big terraces came to be. This is true of some of the iconic terraced stands, like the Kop at Anfield, the Holte End at Villa Park, the Stretford End at Old Trafford, and of course, the Town End at Wrexham. Terraces became a cheaper alternative to seating, with people from across the social spectrum keen to watch matches and clubs keen to facilitate them. This led in part to terraces being designed with high volumes of fans in mind, rather than say, aesthetic beauty.
The classic concrete and crash barriers of a terrace therefore takes on a symbolism beyond its means. A true terrace evokes a time when every effort was made to accommodate the ordinary fan. There is no doubt that plenty of clubs still do great things in the community, and players like Marcus Rashford have rightfully become idols for reasons beyond their footballing prowess. But that intimacy, that belonging, that sense of oneness, is becoming increasingly tricky to make tangible for fans. Television money, sponsorship, and whatever else you want to bemoan about the modern game have gradually forked a larger and larger gap between ourselves, the fans, and the clubs we love. In this context, the notion of a true terrace being a place where an affordable view could be had by the working classes resonates.
Non-league football has been described as a last bastion of this sentiment. Sadly, on my trip to North Wales in October 2021, the powers at be had erected a massive advertising sign that covered practically all of the true terrace I had longed to view. Its crumbling concrete and rising weeds were not visible, tantalisingly hidden by a sheet of red which was lathered in slogans and logos. Behind it stood a remnant of a time drifting gently into the annals.
On that day, Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney were strolling about the pitch before the match as if they owned the place. From my vantage point in the cluster of seats the away fans were given at the other end of the Racecourse Ground and dangerously close to the home supporters, I could only look past them and towards Wrexham’s Kop wistfully.
If the ambitions of the new owners for this historic Welsh club are to be realised, they need four working stands at their home ground. A decommissioned Kop is no good to them, as heralded as it might be by those with a nostalgic eye. The plan at present is to rebuild and regenerate the Kop with, thankfully, input from the fans.
For what it’s worth, Wrexham AFC’s purchase by two major celebrities is something I have no issue with. It is a good news story for fans of a club that have faced a fairly uninspiring 13 seasons (at time of writing) outside the Football League and are keen for the 14th to be their last at this level. Messrs Reynolds and McElhenney’s entrance into the unforgiving world of non-league football will have brought hope to Wrexham supporters, and that’s fine.
It could also be possible that for the fans of the club with one of the last true terraces, the Wrexham Kop takes on a different symbolism. There may be an acceptance that for the time being, the great days when the Town End was full are gone and rebuilding the Kop could be seen as the first step towards rebuilding the club. Reynolds and McElhenney have spoken of their appreciation of and respect for Wrexham’s history, so the Kop’s important role in that, as described by Mickey Thomas, shouldn’t be lost on them. In fact, a December 2021 fan survey saw 75% vote in favour of safe standing for the Kop, so this legendary stand’s legacy could well live on in spirit.
As a fan of another club though, one wonders how many more opportunities to view one of the last true terraces in its original form there will be, and all that it represents. Through this stand, there is a vision of a footballing world which is slowly being lost. At least I got to see that vision at least once, albeit covered in a big red sheet.
You can follow Sean Dudley here on Twitter.
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