‘Shut up you Kentish Town wan*er’
One advantage of promotion to the Championship; we are not being defeated today in the first round of the FA Cup by a side who prove inadequate for the Conference. A year on and only 4 Reds’ players start from that Alty defeat – Scowen, Watkins, Winnall and Davies (yes, I looked that up). The other 7 are currently playing for sides in divisions…actually, I can’t complete that sentence cos I’ve no idea where 3 of them are. Non-league or Lidl, I suspect.
Burton. A treat of an away day. Great pubs, friendly town, no bother. So obviously our pub of choice is closed till 2 (‘sorry for any inconvenience’). Rumour has it that it’s cos Brumingham City were in town last. Seriously? Have we been lumped in with those knobheads? Does last season count for nought? Oh well, good job we have at least 2 Londontykes working in the brewery trade (and numerous others with indepth knowledge thereof) and we’re off to the Burton Bridge Inn. The ------- ------ can do without the £300+ our contingent spent today. I am less than impressed, especially as we were trying to show a German girl a good time (Katrin). The Bridge showered us with fine bitter, a fabulous breakfast butty (inc. black pudding) and pretty much a room of our own. Ok, so the lager was a bit average, but as long as most peeps were happy, so was I. But we simply HAVE to book out the skittles alley next time. (Note to ------- ------, you’ll have lost yourselves £600 now, cos you’ve problies lost us for next year too, promotions and relegations notwithstanding).
So, we drink and drink and then catch taxis to the stadium, passing the landlord en route, wearing a beautiful hi-viz vest as he cycled. Good on him. And we even see kick off, despite birthday boy Hicks ordering cabs for 2:40pm. (Did he tell you it was his birthday?) We also hear the world’s worst bugler f*** up his big moment…folk having to try not to laugh during the Remembrance minute’s silence, as he murders The Last Post. Bless.
We see Armstrong break early doors, bursting clean through only to curl it wide. Christ, he’d done the hard work. Then Marley hammers in a shot from the right and we fail to nail the rebound. Tis Armstrong again – Winnall having laid the original ball out wide. Even Super Sammy can’t be in two places at once. And that’s it. Our attacking capabilities finished after a quarter of an hour. (Marley heads a weak one into the keeper’s arms off a corner, 2nd half).
Otherwise, it’s a one team show. Ok, the 1st half was fairly even, but the second half was diabolical from us, unable to string 3 passes together, or keep it in their half for longer than a few seconds. Meantime, Davies was enjoying a one-man show keeping them out. He used to be a dee dah but he’s alright now. Managerial genius Heckingbottom (he used to be a dee dah but he’s alright now) contributes by going all gung-ho (sarcasm!), dragging off Armstrong for Scowen and going 4-5-1. Davies makes some more brilliant saves before fans’ favourite Hammill is forced on to win the game for us after 5 mins of fans chanting his name. It must be these East Stand morons who worship his stepovers (views courtesy of P. Waddington, Oxspring) but they had the look of Ponty Enders to me, the kind of folk who would vote Brexit and whine that the EU is trampling over Parliamentary democracy while bemoaning that the latest court ruling upholds Parliamentary democracy and ignores the will of the people. (Our political debates have changed somewhat since the vocal Tories amongst t’Londontykes upped sticks and moved to foreign climes).
We aren’t just lucky we don’t lose. We’re lucky it’s not 6. Some fantastic saves, coupled with some unbelievable misses, contribute to us sneaking another point closer to staying up. And Burton still haven’t scored against us in 4 matches (and Loko and I still haven’t seen a goal between these 2 sides, nil-nil away for a 2nd season running).
All we are left with is a pint on the way to the town centre, a rousing Reds’ chorus at the station (oddly, no police, despite their pre-match worries) and the vagaries of the journey home. This week, we shall be mainly telling parents to ‘Control your kid’ (Andy), telling their kids to turn down the bleepy s*** on their computer game (Katrin) or sitting elsewhere to avoid the inevitable conflict (Selwood). Me? I sat there grinning at the row, still gobsmacked at arch-non racist Gandhi telling someone to ‘SPEAK ENGLISH….SLOWLY’. But I knew what he meant. It took dad 3 goes before I understood what he was saying; it brought back less successful forays into my GCSE French oral. Andy failed to hear the wife referring to him as a cnut (thank goodness), but he did hear the dig about him not knowing what it was like to be a parent. All it needed was a panto ‘oh yes I do’ and my evening would have been complete. Nothing vexes a parent like being told you don’t know what it’s like to be a parent.
Only 3 players come out of today with any cred; 5 if you include the centre halves.
*** Davies. Top notch. Ok, got lucky once or twice, inc. one which hit him in the face, but he deserved it (the clean sheet that is).
** Yiadom. Fast becoming a favourite amongst the Londontykes. Athletic, calm, good tackle (!). He’ll do for me. Worryingly called up by Ghana. So that’s another one AWOL for international duty.
* Hourihane. A welcome return, tho’ spent most of the match doing a passable impression of Darren Sheridan, breaking down opposition moves on the edge of the box, or nipping in to nick the 2nd ball on the edge of our box. Delivered little attack-wise.
Londontykes Top 3: 1. Davies 2. Yiadom 3. Hourihane
Despatches:Armstrong looked the most likely up front, so we took him off. Winnall never had a look in but raised a smile when he fell over in comedy fashion in the box. Only one person shouted ‘PENALTY!’ but it’s difficult to persuade the ref when you’re laughing. Watkins was right midfield again, but played alright, 1st half. Where he needed to be played was UP FRONT cos everything came straight back at us without anyone to hold a ball up. Bree had a mare 1st half, or was Lloyd Dyer just too good? At least Bree stopped being skinned 2nd half. Or did Burton stop giving Dyer the ball?
One bleat about my day…those Burton toilets. Now, I appreciate it’s a small ground (perfectly formed) but, really, is it enough to have space for 8 males to p*** in the gentlemens? Really? I don’t condone men p***ing in sinks, but what choice do folk have if they’re desperate?
Fashionwatch: today, Loko will mainly be wearing a Chicago Cubs’ rounders t-shirt. He’d ditched the lady’s coat and his mum’s shoes for a more casual approach. Keep trying.
Will Winnall get 10? ‘Just’ (Ozzy)
Onwards and upwards!
Drink du jour: Seems I’ve never understood how to pronounce ‘Erdinger’ or ‘Lidl’ until I met Katrin, and I still don’t. So inbetween average lager, I had Erdinger, and a bottle of red on the train. But the MVP of alcohol today must surely be the individual little bottles of cherry wine that Selwood treated us to on the train. ‘Mint’ (in Hicksy parlance).
Away: 1300 odd (ausverkauft). Another good atmosphere, tho it says something when the player with the most chants is sat on the bench. Altogether now…’ADAM HAMMILL IS A RED….’
The Damage:
23 ent
3 prog
14 train (a rare bargain!)
The Tunes:
Four Calendar Café (Cocteau Twins)
Music in Exile (Songhoy Blues)
 |
| Welcome to .... |
One advantage of promotion to the Championship; we are not being defeated today in the first round of the FA Cup by a side who prove inadequate for the Conference. A year on and only 4 Reds’ players start from that Alty defeat – Scowen, Watkins, Winnall and Davies (yes, I looked that up). The other 7 are currently playing for sides in divisions…actually, I can’t complete that sentence cos I’ve no idea where 3 of them are. Non-league or Lidl, I suspect.
Burton. A treat of an away day. Great pubs, friendly town, no bother. So obviously our pub of choice is closed till 2 (‘sorry for any inconvenience’). Rumour has it that it’s cos Brumingham City were in town last. Seriously? Have we been lumped in with those knobheads? Does last season count for nought? Oh well, good job we have at least 2 Londontykes working in the brewery trade (and numerous others with indepth knowledge thereof) and we’re off to the Burton Bridge Inn. The ------- ------ can do without the £300+ our contingent spent today. I am less than impressed, especially as we were trying to show a German girl a good time (Katrin). The Bridge showered us with fine bitter, a fabulous breakfast butty (inc. black pudding) and pretty much a room of our own. Ok, so the lager was a bit average, but as long as most peeps were happy, so was I. But we simply HAVE to book out the skittles alley next time. (Note to ------- ------, you’ll have lost yourselves £600 now, cos you’ve problies lost us for next year too, promotions and relegations notwithstanding).
So, we drink and drink and then catch taxis to the stadium, passing the landlord en route, wearing a beautiful hi-viz vest as he cycled. Good on him. And we even see kick off, despite birthday boy Hicks ordering cabs for 2:40pm. (Did he tell you it was his birthday?) We also hear the world’s worst bugler f*** up his big moment…folk having to try not to laugh during the Remembrance minute’s silence, as he murders The Last Post. Bless.
 |
| The Main Stand |
We see Armstrong break early doors, bursting clean through only to curl it wide. Christ, he’d done the hard work. Then Marley hammers in a shot from the right and we fail to nail the rebound. Tis Armstrong again – Winnall having laid the original ball out wide. Even Super Sammy can’t be in two places at once. And that’s it. Our attacking capabilities finished after a quarter of an hour. (Marley heads a weak one into the keeper’s arms off a corner, 2nd half).
Otherwise, it’s a one team show. Ok, the 1st half was fairly even, but the second half was diabolical from us, unable to string 3 passes together, or keep it in their half for longer than a few seconds. Meantime, Davies was enjoying a one-man show keeping them out. He used to be a dee dah but he’s alright now. Managerial genius Heckingbottom (he used to be a dee dah but he’s alright now) contributes by going all gung-ho (sarcasm!), dragging off Armstrong for Scowen and going 4-5-1. Davies makes some more brilliant saves before fans’ favourite Hammill is forced on to win the game for us after 5 mins of fans chanting his name. It must be these East Stand morons who worship his stepovers (views courtesy of P. Waddington, Oxspring) but they had the look of Ponty Enders to me, the kind of folk who would vote Brexit and whine that the EU is trampling over Parliamentary democracy while bemoaning that the latest court ruling upholds Parliamentary democracy and ignores the will of the people. (Our political debates have changed somewhat since the vocal Tories amongst t’Londontykes upped sticks and moved to foreign climes).
We aren’t just lucky we don’t lose. We’re lucky it’s not 6. Some fantastic saves, coupled with some unbelievable misses, contribute to us sneaking another point closer to staying up. And Burton still haven’t scored against us in 4 matches (and Loko and I still haven’t seen a goal between these 2 sides, nil-nil away for a 2nd season running).
 |
| The Pirelli, not yesterday (my phone isn't actually working at mo) |
All we are left with is a pint on the way to the town centre, a rousing Reds’ chorus at the station (oddly, no police, despite their pre-match worries) and the vagaries of the journey home. This week, we shall be mainly telling parents to ‘Control your kid’ (Andy), telling their kids to turn down the bleepy s*** on their computer game (Katrin) or sitting elsewhere to avoid the inevitable conflict (Selwood). Me? I sat there grinning at the row, still gobsmacked at arch-non racist Gandhi telling someone to ‘SPEAK ENGLISH….SLOWLY’. But I knew what he meant. It took dad 3 goes before I understood what he was saying; it brought back less successful forays into my GCSE French oral. Andy failed to hear the wife referring to him as a cnut (thank goodness), but he did hear the dig about him not knowing what it was like to be a parent. All it needed was a panto ‘oh yes I do’ and my evening would have been complete. Nothing vexes a parent like being told you don’t know what it’s like to be a parent.
Only 3 players come out of today with any cred; 5 if you include the centre halves.
*** Davies. Top notch. Ok, got lucky once or twice, inc. one which hit him in the face, but he deserved it (the clean sheet that is).
** Yiadom. Fast becoming a favourite amongst the Londontykes. Athletic, calm, good tackle (!). He’ll do for me. Worryingly called up by Ghana. So that’s another one AWOL for international duty.
* Hourihane. A welcome return, tho’ spent most of the match doing a passable impression of Darren Sheridan, breaking down opposition moves on the edge of the box, or nipping in to nick the 2nd ball on the edge of our box. Delivered little attack-wise.
Londontykes Top 3: 1. Davies 2. Yiadom 3. Hourihane
Despatches:Armstrong looked the most likely up front, so we took him off. Winnall never had a look in but raised a smile when he fell over in comedy fashion in the box. Only one person shouted ‘PENALTY!’ but it’s difficult to persuade the ref when you’re laughing. Watkins was right midfield again, but played alright, 1st half. Where he needed to be played was UP FRONT cos everything came straight back at us without anyone to hold a ball up. Bree had a mare 1st half, or was Lloyd Dyer just too good? At least Bree stopped being skinned 2nd half. Or did Burton stop giving Dyer the ball?
One bleat about my day…those Burton toilets. Now, I appreciate it’s a small ground (perfectly formed) but, really, is it enough to have space for 8 males to p*** in the gentlemens? Really? I don’t condone men p***ing in sinks, but what choice do folk have if they’re desperate?
Fashionwatch: today, Loko will mainly be wearing a Chicago Cubs’ rounders t-shirt. He’d ditched the lady’s coat and his mum’s shoes for a more casual approach. Keep trying.
Will Winnall get 10? ‘Just’ (Ozzy)
Onwards and upwards!
Drink du jour: Seems I’ve never understood how to pronounce ‘Erdinger’ or ‘Lidl’ until I met Katrin, and I still don’t. So inbetween average lager, I had Erdinger, and a bottle of red on the train. But the MVP of alcohol today must surely be the individual little bottles of cherry wine that Selwood treated us to on the train. ‘Mint’ (in Hicksy parlance).
Away: 1300 odd (ausverkauft). Another good atmosphere, tho it says something when the player with the most chants is sat on the bench. Altogether now…’ADAM HAMMILL IS A RED….’
The Damage:
23 ent
3 prog
14 train (a rare bargain!)
The Tunes:
Four Calendar Café (Cocteau Twins)
Music in Exile (Songhoy Blues)
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