The Millers' tale, falling in love with non-league football

Words: David Jones

Images: Tom Stanworth

Evertonians are born, not manufactured.

We do not choose, we are chosen.

Those who understand, need no explanation.

Those who don’t understand, don’t matter

This quotation circulated at the height of my Everton away days in the mid-90s.

Many of the new wave of fans attracted post-Italia ’90 were often sniffed at for ‘choosing’ their team. Those who’d been going a bit longer had generally had their team thrust upon them, by family, friends, or community.

Me, I’m a fourth generation Evertonian, maybe more. The two generations before me were born on Gwladys Street, opposite the home end. We didn’t get a choice in our house. Equally, my wife didn’t get much of a say when she got into football…

Twenty-five years away from my home city inevitably has an impact, though, and it’s a decade since I last saw the Toffees in the flesh. My wife and I drifted away, disillusioned at the difficulty of getting tickets and all the usual Premier League guff.

Eventually, we looked to non-league near our home in South-East London, and found ourselves in that dubious predicament of “choosing a club”.

At first, we had a few months going to watch a team mainly because it was easy to get to. Then COVID struck. When football returned though, we didn’t – the place was too busy, the atmosphere a bit odd, and it became a bit Premier League for our tastes.

©Tom Stanworth/ Terrace Edition. Cray Valley Paper Mills.

We instead decided to drift around the local grounds, some more than others, watching games that caught our fancy, combining them with arts or museum trips, or pubs and restaurants, following the south east London scene rather than a specific club, perhaps keen not to choose.

And we still do this, with one major difference. After a season or so of drifting, we found ourselves going more and more to the Artic Stadium in Eltham. If Cray Valley (PM) – aka the Millers – were at home, we found ourselves favouring going there.

We liked the people, we liked the clubhouse, we liked the raised side terrace from where we could hear the away coaching staff lose their rag. By the start of 2023/24, we considered getting season tickets, but held back, keen to keep the flexibility idea alive, still avoiding the choosing.

That was a mistake. Our priorities became clear very soon into the season. And what a season too. An FA Cup run which took us back into a big-league stadium, my wife’s tin foil trophy beamed worldwide by the BBC, and a draw which brought a more than deserved replay, which from next season will be denied. My wife takes up the story:

As it gets closer to the final whistle at The Valley, I was excited and nervous at the same time: “This is going to be a replay, isn’t it? How exciting, but will we be able to host them at our small ground?” And everyone at the club worked so hard and dressed up the Artic stadium with lots of additional facilities like scaffolding for camera crews, and extra lights, as if Cinderella went to the party for just one night!

I thought it was surreal to see Charlton v Cray Valley (PM) at The Valley for a competitive match, but hosting Charlton at the Artic Stadium was beyond surreal. We say an FA Cup replay is “earned” because literally it is a reward for underdogs, and surely that’s the FA Cup’s magic!

Then, a league run which would normally sweep all before it, instead becoming a tense two-horse race with Ramsgate for the single automatic promotion spot.

A win at Sevenoaks on New Year’s Day, perhaps undeserved, but which showed the squad’s resilience, determination, and togetherness. And eventually, finding ourselves looking to more distant away games. At Broadbridge Heath, we saw a goal that would’ve graced the Premier League. A few weeks later, and we’re presenting the Supporters’ Player of the Year trophy to the scorer. We’d been asked to do the honours on the day, both of us dressed like walking club merchandise shops.

The final month of the season confirmed things for us. We signed up for a coach trip to the heart of the beast - the big game at title rivals Ramsgate. It was the only away game all season in which we dropped points, with the 2-2 draw leaving us in control of our own destiny.

When my wife suggested she drive us to Hythe on a Tuesday night for the penultimate game of the season, I knew she was as bitten as me. And then we booked the coach trip to Horndean, the furthest trip in the league, to a ground with an exceedingly sloping pitch, burgers in the drizzle, and a dark little covered stand behind the goal to retreat to, to see the Millers lift the Isthmian South East title on the final day.

The evening journey home was happily spent naming the grounds we’d visit next season, as Millers. It was great to see so many familiar faces making these trips, pulling together as the growing Millers community we’d become a part of, sharing the joy with the players at the end of each match.

We both love South-East London non-league football, and we’ll still do the rounds of other grounds when we can, but next season we’ll be Cray Valley (PM) season ticket holders. Did we choose the Millers, or did the Millers choose us? At the End of Season Presentation Evening, we sang along to Don’t Look Back in Anger.

It was just like being back in the mid-90s, in the Winslow on Goodison Road. Sometimes,the route home is long, and home is not where you’d expect it to be, and beyond any choice.

You can find Tom on X and Instagram: @tmstanworth

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