It's exactly 20 years today since I dropped the names of 33 boroughs into an empty honey jar, picked one at random and kicked off my Random Borough project. It took eight years to complete.
I was thwarted somewhat that evening by a last-minute invite to go ten pin bowling (I came last) so ended up writing less than I might. I've always thought Merton got short shrift compared to the other 32, so two decades later I'm putting that right by revisiting the borough and writing completely new vignettes in the original categories. I've made it much harder for myself by not going back to the places I went before, nor anywhere previously blogged, so it's very much a second division tour with hopefully a Premier League write-up.
Somewhere sporty: AFC Wimbledon
I can't do the tennis again so I'm doing the football, which turns out to be the tale of two teams and two housing estates. There is only one winner.
In the beginning there was only Wimbledon Football Club, who in 1912 started playing on a patch of marshland at the corner of Plough Lane and Haydons Road. After a lengthy non-league career they were promoted to the Fourth Division in 1977 and began an unprecedented race to the summit. Within ten seasons they'd topped the First Division and won the FA Cup, but this success proved Plough Lane's downfall when the Taylor Report proposed that top class teams needed all-seater stadiums. In 1991 the Dons fled the borough to groundshare at Crystal Palace, and the quest for a new ground eventually saw them (scandalously) up sticks to Milton Keynes. Here's where they used to play.
Unsurprisingly it's now a lot of flats. When the land was sold it was due to become a Safeway supermarket, but they failed to get planning permission so after demolition it was sold on to a property developer and became Reynolds Gate. Each of the six blocks is named after a former player (Cork, Lawrie, Stannard), manager (Bassett, Batsford) or chairman (Reed), interspersed with private green wedges unsuitable for a kickabout. Arguably the occupants of Stannard House have the best view across the Wandle, but given the looming presence of Wimbledon substation and its emergent pylon maybe not. Residents have a Nisa corner shop for their groceries and a Mertonesque waterwheel to assemble beside in case of fire. The chief nod to the past is a funereal monolith facing the main street corner, which it turns out has a textured backside supposedly representing the key events of the 1988 Cup Final. I couldn't work out which spiky quadrant was supposed to represent Princess Diana meeting the team.
Wimbledon FC's true fans faced up to the Milton Keynes departure by starting up a new team, AFC Wimbledon. They too started at the bottom of the heap and slowly climbed, and are currently in League Two four places below their Buckinghamshire nemesis. What's more they too play on Plough Lane, on a site two footballpitchesworth away from the old ground which narrowly squeezes inside the Merton borough boundary. For sponsorship reasons it's called the Cherry Red Records Stadium, which at least is a worthy cause rather than a bunch of gamblers, but it'll win absolutely no prizes for architecture.
The ground is built across the footprint of another sporting stalwart, Wimbledon Greyhound Stadium, which hosted dog racing, speedway and car boot sales between 1928 and 2017. You can still see the faded remains of a painted advert promising 'Greyhound Racing every THU [unreadable] SAT' on a wall leading to the away end. AFC Wimbledon pounced on the site in conjunction with Galliard Homes, recognising that 600 flats were the best option for a 21st century groundshare. Most of these line a bleak boulevard called Greyhound Parade, facing a high blue barrier that denies those on lower floors the opportunity of watching a game. You can also see bugger all by attempting to walk around the perimeter, only signs by the grey gates confirming that you can bring pocket cameras and crutches into the ground, but not a large flag or a musical instrument unless you email the club in advance.
As a child of the 70s my favourite spot was the Womble Bench where Orinoco stands at one end with his tidy bag, and a pile of cups, cans and cartons rests on the fake litter bin at the other. The other team used to have a Womble mascot called Wandle, but author Elisabeth Beresford revoked permission after they turned traitor and allowed AFC Wimbledon to have a Womble mascot called Haydon instead. I had no luck getting inside the club shop because it was closed, so also missed out on the museum exhibit "The Greatest Story" which is otherwise free to view. Apparently the infamous Womble Til I Die gates from the former stadium are in storage and due to be put on permanent display soon. It all feels more of a fortress than a cosy club to be honest, but hurrah that the battle of the Wimbledons eventually led to a home win. by train: Haydons Road; by bus: 493
Somewhere pretty: Cannizaro Park
Many of London's best parks are a former posh bloke's back garden and so it is with Cannizaro Park. The posh bloke in question is Henry Dundas, William Pitt's Secretary of State for War, who lived here for twenty years and originally oversaw the landscaping. His house is now a hotel facing the southeast corner of Wimbledon Common, but the rear is in public hands so slip along the path up the side and you'll find a fascinating place to explore. For the smaller, more formal gardens turn left across the lawn past the stares of gourmet diners grazing in the conservatory. For a more varied perimeter safari turn right at the aviary (which before the pandemic contained proper birds but currently contains... oh, two Girl Guide dummies as part of a rolling programme of community art). It gets better beyond that.
Woodland paths and avenues thread past tumbling artificial streams. A simple fountain gushes in the lower pond, watched over by a cormorant. If you know your trees you'll spot several rare ones in a state of glowing maturity. The Valley Path is a) lined by spring bulbs b) closed for resurfacing. The Italian Garden steps down between the original kitchen garden walls, though is mostly empty bar the odd urn. Lady Jane's Wood is artificially hillocky and might require sturdier shoes. Keep walking and you'll eventually reach a belvedere amid pine trees, tucked so far into a narrow corner that most never get this far. A lot of the sheer variety and well-tended husbandry is helpfully explained by the size of the gardener's enclosure. This is very much not your average park.
A fine body of volunteers help keep the place in shape too, and you can sense both their pride and their admonishment from the tone of their chalkboard ("Toilets ARE open. If they remain well kept they will remain open"). Admittedly you should really visit later in the year - the Rhododendron Dell is only budding, the Rose Garden has yet to flourish, the Maple Avenue will be an autumnal treat and the Cherry Walk has already peaked. And pick a day when it's not pissing down - not many of us were traipsing round, and I felt properly bedraggled by the time I squelched past the restaurant jury. But the green side of Wimbledon's not just about tennis courts and the common, there's this hidden treasure too. by tube: Wimbledon; by bus: 93
