The Bedford Blues’ final against Worcester on Sunday (31 May) may not have ended how we hoped, but it didn’t feel like defeat. It pulled Bedford closer, strengthened the Borough’s love of rugby, and made the Blues family feel even bigger.
It was bigger than what happened on the pitch, and bigger than what happened at Goldington Road. It seemed like the whole Borough was getting involved.
That might be my Bedford Blues bubble talking, but you could see the evidence all over the place.
Read: Blues heartbreak as Worcester Warriors win Champ Rugby title at Goldington Road
Cafes closed early so staff could go to the game; the usual pubs confirmed they’d be screening the match; and others, who don’t usually do so, asked if they could also host screenings for those unlucky enough not to get a ticket.
And it didn’t feel like it was because they thought it would be a money-spinner, but instead because it mattered to Bedford.
People wanted a great game. People wanted the Blues to succeed. But what stood out to me most was the atmosphere around it, and the camaraderie that comes from Blues supporters almost by default.
It is what makes the Bedford Blues and the ‘Blues Family’ about so much more than what’s happening on the pitch.
First time
The first time I went to a Bedford Blues game was about 25 years ago, not long after I moved to Bedford.
I’d never really been into team sports. I grew up on skateboards and BMXs, and despite a brief spell with a junior football side, my passion became music, and I’d spend hours in the local record shop once I’d hung up my Broxbourne Saints boots.
My dad is also a long-time Tottenham Hotspur fan, and so while I stand with him and other Spurs fans, it often feels like the only sporting tradition I’d witnessed in our household is anguish.
I went along to the Blues that day because I was invited. I was a young journalist, new to the town, and I wanted to learn more about the biggest sports team in my new home.
Working at Chiltern FM in the old NFU building just over the road from the Blues’ ground, I was already aware of how much that hallowed turf meant to some people.
But what surprised me that first time was not the rugby; it was everything around the edges.
Mates watching together, families there with friends and children, who would be practising their own rugby skills on the back field, mums and dads comfortable, they were safe.
Rugby fans of all generations, not just there to cheer on their favourite 15 but to socialise, catch up and share in joint celebration or commiseration, whatever the day decided would happen.
Then afterwards, the entertainment, the chance to have a drink with friends, to talk about the game, or not talk about it if you didn’t want to. Just to be there, soaking up the atmosphere, listening to a post-match interview or having a dance.
It felt like a community. Not an event you attend and then leave post-final whistle, but a place to belong and where you are welcome to stay for as long as the bar staff is serving.
Hooked
Over the years, I tried to go to as many games as I could. Then, for my 40th birthday, I was given a season ticket by some very generous friends.
Before our sports editor, Tom, arrived, I’d often be the one interviewing Mike Rayer ahead of games. I’d go in determined to ask good questions, so I didn’t look like an idiot, with my imposter syndrome in overdrive.
But that’s part of the point. Goldington Road has always had a way of pulling you in, making you feel part of it, even when you’re still finding your feet. That’s clear when you see how much passion and support the club puts into their Junior Blues, school holiday camps, and the Blues Foundation.
During this time, that welcoming spirit was embodied for me by former Blues fly-half and USA international Will Hooley.
Will had an interest in journalism and became attached to the Bedford Independent, filing stories with an insider’s perspective and cutting his reporting teeth before moving into national roles.
He’s now the technical director at Major League Rugby and the host of Sunday Night Rugby on ESPN in the US.
Somewhere along the way, we became friends, and we still chat from time to time about rugby and other things. He very much sums up the culture the Blues players seem to follow: friendly, approachable and humble.
I held that season ticket for eight years, until last year when, for one reason or another, I couldn’t renew, so I had to pay as I went. Thankfully, I’ll be renewing this year.
During that season-ticket period, how I viewed myself as a Blues supporter evolved.
Going to the ground for a home game was less and less about meeting my friends with rugby as a backdrop; I realised I was genuinely looking forward to the fixtures.
Looking forward to what might happen, both home and away, how the Blues might finish, and where we might end up. Rugby became part of my week, not just an excuse to hang out with pals.
It’s worth saying that among my friends, I’m not the sports expert by any stretch of the imagination.
Rugby is probably the sport I know most about, but even then, I struggle. I don’t always recognise the faces. I don’t always remember shirt numbers. I certainly don’t always remember the rules.
But I always have fun. And Goldington Road has always felt like the sort of place where you’re allowed to enjoy it without needing to prove you know everything – even if I’ve dropped some clangers in my time and face-palmed while vocalising what I think is happening on the pitch.
But I’m a firm believer that you shouldn’t knock a trier, and so I’d ask questions (even if others thought they were stupid), listen to friends’ analyses, read match reports from multiple sources and listen to a few podcasts when I can.
While it still wouldn’t be a good idea for me to pick rugby as a specialist subject on Mastermind, my love and understanding of the game continue to grow exponentially.
The family
This was put to the test when I got a phone call from Blues’ CEO, Gareth Alred, asking if I would mind looking after the matchday PA temporarily while Sam Roberts was pulled away for Champ Rugby commentating duties.
I told Gareth I was up for it, but I was also honest about my worries. The rules, the details, the fear of messing up. Gareth reassured me that I’d be fine and that I would be supported.
And I was.
Gareth and Ryan [Robinson] spent time texting me mid-match to highlight all manner of things, including who had scored when my view was obscured and who the opposing team’s substitutions were.
That is the Bedford Blues family all over. People welcoming you in, supporting you, not making you feel small for not knowing something.
If I look back with rose-tinted glasses, I’d tell you it was the most fantastic time I ever had at the ground. My partner, Mandy, might tell you a different story. I was incredibly nervous before each game, and convinced I’d messed something up afterwards.
Despite all this, and having big shoes to fill thanks to Sam (and his son Will’s) excellent match-day announcing skills, I feel that being part of that match-day experience was a privilege.
To call out the Blues player who scored to the roars of the home crowd, to banter with the die-hard fans in the stands, to call out the supporters club jackpot winners, to try to lift the atmosphere in the rain, and to help the club and fans pay tribute to fallen former players was to contribute in a way that is reserved for only a lucky few.
Something that will stay with me forever.
After the whistle
Rugby is a collaborative sport. Of course, there are rivalries, but they don’t seem to come with the anger you often see in football. Fans respect players, and fans respect each other’s supporting choices.
The joy of watching youngsters jumping onto the pitch after the final whistle to grab a moment with their favourite player, and then watching that player stop, chat, and give them the kind of memory that makes a kid think, maybe one day that could be me.
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve also seen Blues fans and opposition fans sitting together in the marquee afterwards, sharing a beer, having a laugh, enjoying the post-match atmosphere regardless of who won.
That is important for sport, yes. But also for Bedford Borough.
Still here
After the final on Sunday, it became obvious, talking to people in The Castle pub, that Bedford’s love of rugby has not been diminished by the result.
If anything, it felt strengthened.
People were still singing, cheering and celebrating an incredible season in pubs around Bedford despite not winning the Champ Rugby League. That says more about the impact of Bedford Blues than a win ever could.
People love the club, and many Bedfordians’ hearts pump blood that’s Oxford and Cambridge blue.
And as Sam Roberts said to me just before kick off on Sunday, whatever the result, “we will always be the greatest rugby club in the land”.
You can take that as pride, or humour, or both.
But I take it as something else. A reminder that Goldington Road is not simply a place where rugby happens, it’s a place where Bedford gathers.
The term “Blues Family” is used a lot. Some might think it’s a marketing tagline, but it really isn’t.
It means exactly what it says. The Blues are a family, and no matter how large that family grows, I have no doubt everyone will always be welcome.
