Leaving It Late
Saturday 25th April 2026. Where were you?
A date that will go down in football lore.
Rochdale v York, the final day of the 2025/26 National League season.
Given it made headlines at sports news outlets the world over, you probably won’t need me to tell you the outcome.
I started to write this straight after the game and intended putting it out in the days after, to focus on that game specifically, but you know, life gets in the way...so here I am a few weeks later with a couple more games to discuss, and a happy ending.
Firstly, some background for those who may require it...
I'm Rochdale born and bred, and either lived or worked there for about 37 years of my near 39 years on this earth. As a young teenager, before my dad stopped paying for my United season ticket, I would go to Spotland to watch the Dale most weeks. I was there on the day of 9/11 when they took Fulham to penalties in the League Cup, I was there when they beat Coventry in the FA Cup 4th Round in 2003, and I was there for playoff semi final victory, then at Wembley for final heartbreak in 2008.
I've previously written about my dad when it comes to Rochdale; he’s United first and foremost as well, but he’s had a season ticket at Dale for 5 or 6 years now, given he lives in close proximity, and he has close friends who are or have been lifelong Dale fans – one sadly no longer with us. And my dad's affiliation isn’t relatively new either; he played in Dale’s youth team in the late 60s and early 70s, making some reserve team appearances.
Rochdale’s season then, has been somewhat unexpected, for me at least. After the Ogden family bought the club and stabilised the finances, Dale hung around the playoffs in 24/25 before succumbing to Southend in the Eliminator Round, so for them to have topped the table for large parts this time round was a nice surprise. But I always expected them to falter, because that’s what they do (edit, *did), and that’s what they have done for years now. A one goal lead going into the last 5 minutes? Be happy with a draw. Because Dale usually just can’t hold on. It’s not just this particular set of players; it’s been going on for over 10 years, under the last 4 or 5 managers. That Southend playoff game...Dale were 3-1 up with about 12 minutes left, conceded 2 then lost in extra time. And only a month earlier, they hosted Spennymoor Town of the National League North in the Semi Final of the FA Trophy. With a trip to Wembley on the line, Dale conceded a 97th minute equaliser and lost on penalties.
You’ll have to forgive my recent pessimism then, especially given it was completely unfounded, as it transpired. Dale went on a 15 game unbeaten streak from mid-January to mid-March, and that became only 1 defeat in 19 by Easter.
But, there was York. The Minstermen had finished 2nd last season, 13 points above the 3rd placed side, and they too had feebly exited the playoffs. So they were determined to go one better this time. And they were scoring goals for fun; they finished this season with an incredible 114 of them, and had a goal difference of +73. Dale and York then were in a title race for the ages, with the other sides playing for a playoff spot at best from about January.
In late February, my brother and I took my dad to Aldershot away, as part of a weekend in London for his birthday, and after watching Dale win, we followed York's evening kick off on our phones, all of us gutted when they scored a 100th minute winner. It wasn't the first time they'd won a game so late, and it led to suggestions then of injury time being 'until York score'.
Once Dale caught up with games in hand after previous postponements, they had a bit of a lead, however caution took over. Reports from my dad, and online, were that the team were far too negative, trying to sit on a lead instead of going for another goal, which as I've already pointed out, then can't do. And barring a single surprising defeat to Gateshead, York kept going.
Then, as you'll likely be aware, it was Rochdale’s turn to score very late, and it was York fans' turn to claim corruption from the referees. Within 3 weeks, Dale scored winners in the 98th, 90th, and 100th minute, in that order. What do I know about their character??
But by then, after taking only 1 point from 6 over the Easter weekend, it was in York's hands. It all came down to the final day...Dale had to win, otherwise York would take the title and automatic promotion.
My cousin Matt would be visiting from America and staying with me at that time. He's a big football fan, as Americans go, so plan A for taking him to a game was United v Brentford. But I think for the first time ever, I was pleased it got moved to the Monday night. Dale v York would be a more than adequate plan B, especially given how it was all coming down to that final game. And so, for around 5 weeks, in a small town just north of Boston, Massachusetts, a small group of friends would avidly follow the English 5th tier, hoping that Matt would get either a day of celebration, or a match with something huge riding on it.
As these things tend to happen, the match clashed with my niece singing in a show, for which my dad had already committed to going to, and a wedding that my brother was attending. So I would take my 6 year old nephew, and my dad would come too, but leave around the hour mark to go and see the show. The thought of having to leave such an important match early may sound crazy to some, but it goes without saying, family is more important that football!
The plan for before the 12:30 kick off was for breakfast in the Wetherspoons in Rochdale, but it turns out that many people had the same plan. So it was off to Greggs for food, and then standing room only in the pub. You could tell it would be one of those sorts of days, when a bloke walked past us carrying a tray of shots at about 10:30am.
Up to Spotland then, and the atmosphere was building nicely, both from the home and away ends. York were given the minimum allocation of 1400 tickets, and you may have seen that their fans had to queue overnight to get their hands on one - absolutely fair play to them for that. But they were seated in the Willbutts Lane Stand, holding over 3500, which had led to calls for them to be given more tickets. One online poster I saw suggested it was ‘well out of order’ that Dale were only giving the minimum allocation, and ‘trying to make home advantage count’. How very dare they! I mean, I’d like United to be given 7000 tickets at the Etihad each season, but that’s not how it works, pal.
What of the first 94 minutes of the game then? Not much to talk about really, a cagey affair, York happy to sit back for the most part, inviting Dale onto them, which they didn’t really do too much, seemingly more intent on keeping it tight and then going for it later on. York did have a couple of good chances though, with on loan ‘keeper Oli Whatmuff keeping them out. More about him later.
The slightly inebriated bloke stood next to me in the Sandy Lane end kept saying that it was written, that Ian Henderson would score the winner, that it was meant to be. That’s 41 year old Ian Henderson, Dale’s all-time record goalscorer and club legend, who came on with just over 20 minutes left. And he wasn’t the scorer this time, but the assister, a lovely outside of the foot scoop into the box for Mani Dieseruvwe to head home.
Pandemonium! 96th minute, Dale are going up, there are fans on the pitch, they can’t believe it, nor can I! I hug Matt, I hug the bloke next to me, I pick up my nephew and jump up and down with him in my arms, hoping he understands the magnitude of what has just happened, and that he remembers the moment for a long, long time. It seems like forever until the pitch is cleared, and they’re ready to go again. “Come on Dale, just hold on now, not long, keep it tight,” I tell myself, knowing full well that it’s not over. My nephew asks to go on the pitch, and Matt tells him they can at full time – they position themselves at the front of the stand, ready for the whistle.
I start filming, hoping to capture the final whistle to put on my socials, but my hand is shaking terribly, so I stop. I’ve rarely been this fraught in 33 years of watching United.
A big cheer of relief goes up as Dale clear the ball for a York throw in. But then...the ball comes in, a bit of a goalmouth scramble, and up pops Josh Stones. Did the ball fully cross the line? Does anyone know for certain? It looked like it from my position, but having watched umpteen replays since, I can’t be sure. Doesn’t matter, the goal is given, Stones wheels off to celebrate in front of the away end with his teammates, and 3 sides of the stadium go quiet. They’ve blown it, how could they not hang on? How do they pick themselves up from here? York fans are on the pitch, but not for as long, and when they’re cleared, Dale only have time to kick off and hoof it up field before the final whistle. Jubilation from the travelling fans to our left. And you can’t say they didn’t deserve promotion. But maybe I’m only saying that knowing how things panned out.
We trudged out of the game and down to the pub, still in absolute disbelief. The pub is quiet, for a while at least while everyone runs through the last 5 minutes of the game in their heads, trying to process what had happened. But it swiftly turned into a great afternoon, despite the result; the sun was shining as we sat out front, my dad came to join us after the show, we ran into my cousin and his mates, and Matt had a brilliant time ‘shooting the shit’ with everyone, as he put it. I spoke to some York fans in there too, congratulated them, and they wished Dale well for the playoffs.
But I was not having it that they would be able reset and win 2 more games after that ending. Again I’ll say, what do I know?
Matt went back home a few days later, in the knowledge he had been witness to one of the greatest ends to a season, perhaps ever.
And off I went on holiday and tried to put football out of my mind for a few days.
Scunthorpe were up next then for Dale in the semi final, having beaten Southend, and I followed the game on my phone whilst in a Mallorcan bar watching United v Liverpool. Dale scored early then got the all important 2nd goal. But again they sat back, as I was later informed by my dad, and Scunthorpe scored. By that point, I was far more bothered about this game than United throwing away a 2 goal lead. But 2-1 it finished, and Dale were off to Wembley, and in time for me to fully appreciate Kobbie’s winning goal at Old Trafford too!
I wasn’t able to make it to Wembley, with a toddler and a very pregnant wife at home, so I went to one of many Rochdale town centre boozers who had forked out for DAZN in recent months. My dad, brother, and nephew were down there though, along with a number of mates.
Dale again were quite poor, and without a clue of what to do in the final third, in my opinion. Meanwhile, Boreham Wood’s game plan was to break quickly, and their forward Abdulmalik was doing just that, causing numerous problems and of course scoring the second. He was fantastic, and for me could be playing two levels higher come August. And whilst I would never wish injury on anyone, him limping off on 82 minutes was a welcome sight, and was a catalyst for Dale progressing.
So, as has become the norm, Dale equalised deep into injury time and it was Boreham Wood’s turn to have their hearts broken. The pub went wild, I can only imagine how good it was to be in the ground at that moment.
Extra time then, you’ve just scored at the death to deflate your opponents, who must be reeling now. You do for it, don’t you? Get a goal, ideally two, and don’t leave it to the chance of a shootout. Nope, Dale sat back, much to everybody’s chagrin, and seemed happy to go to penalties, with absolutely nothing happening in ET. Clearly the players had full confidence in Oli Whatmuff! And they were right to; he was the star of the shootout, saving two, including a fantastic strong-armed stop to keep out Boreham Wood’s second penalty. He’ll play for England one day that lad. Shame from my point of view that he’s at City! And then as Cameron Coxe struck the underside of the bar with his spotkick, Whatmuff hesitated momentarily, making sure the assistant referee hadn’t adjudged it to have crossed the line, before running off to celebrate with his teammates.
And breathe! Dale had done it, back in the Football League after 3 years away, thank goodness. The scenes from the Dale end again looked fantastic, as jealously once again set in. No time to revel, as I had a bus to catch to put my little one to bed, but I did treat myself to a can of Dale 1907 beer that night...
Great post Jordan. Rochdale away is where I had my picture taken (FA Cup 2014) with my hero.
Well done Rochdale and Harvey! (A friends son)