Out there I feel sad not to see her no more

Went up to Northampton on Wednesday for the screening of The Corinthians : We Were The Champions. This film is about the Manchester Corinthians women’s football team, who formed in 1949 - right in the middle of the FA’s 50-year ban on women playing on affiliated grounds - and kept going through to the 1980s, and were phenomenally successful, winning an overwhelming majority of their games played, including triumphs in two international tournaments abroad.

I wanted to see this film, not just because it was about a successful women’s football team, but because, apart from Gail Newsham’s magisterial book chronicling the Dick, Kerr Ladies, it was the first time anyone had made a concerted effort to tell a story of women’s football in England during the FA ban years, and because I’d made a contribution to the crowdfunder that made the film possible.

I’d let my friend Kathy, who lives in Northampton, know that I was coming, and she’d said she might be there.

The cinema, the Northampton Filmhouse, was a fringe venue, showing this film as part of the Northampton Film Festival, so there was a compact intimate feel with friendly front of house and bar staff. Screen 2, where the film was showing, was in a building off to the side of the main house. I took a seat with plenty of time to spare, and periodically scanned the audience for Kathy. I finally spotted her a few minutes before the start, and went over to her. We hugged and kissed and she said we’d chat at the end.

The film was fascinating. Ten surviving players took turns being shown on screen recalling events from the team’s playing days, from their being formed by their tireless manager Percy Ashley, through playing their matches on Fog Lane Park in Didsbury and having to wash in the duck pond, to their exploits playing matches all over Continental Europe and in South America. Much of their achievements were depicted in cartoon strip form, inspired by the old sports comics like Tiger, but there were actually some pieces of black and white footage of some of their games. Strikingly, while the football establishment here in England were reported as having taken the view that the team (and all women’s football) should be dismissed, ridiculed or ignored, the players recalled that much of the general public’s reaction to them was positive - while abroad, they got to play in grounds including the homes of Juventus and Sporting Lisbon, played to packed stadiums, and were treated like celebrities by the local populace.

Helen, the director, did an interesting Q&A session at the end. She said how Channel 4 and Channel 5 had both turned down her film proposal, thinking people wouldn’t be interested in a women’s football film. At the end of the session I went over to Kathy and her friend, and we all talked as we meandered to the foyer. She said she’d be at the Lionesses match in Nottingham at the weekend and we agreed to meet there.

Out in the foyer Helen was standing at a table selling tote bags and badges bearing the film’s logo. She was delighted when I told her I’d contributed to the crowdfunder and that I’d travelled from near Portsmouth. She insisted on giving me a complimentary bag and badge. I wished her luck with getting the film screened nationwide, and she asked whether I knew any cinemas round my way that might be interested. I mentioned the one in Southampton that showed Copa 71 two years ago and she said she might try them. Fingers crossed.

Back home yesterday, then today I travelled up to Nottingham for tomorrow’s Lionesses game.

Fareham away at Moneyfields yesterday. The choir of diehards gathered on the scaffold behind the goal kept up a repertoire of songs. A chant of “you’re just a shit club near Baffins” drew a rejoinder of “you’re just a shit club in Fareham” from a Moneyfields steward. One of the Fareham fans replied “At least we admit it.” Our fans had some top banter with him from then on, including some ribbing when he said he wouldn’t be there when Fareham stage a home game at Moneys’ ground next week as he’s visiting his young lady.

The first half ended goalless, and one of the Fareham support told the steward “Your team must be shit, we’re usually 3-0 down by now.”

Fareham continued to do a good job of keeping the hosts at bay until the hour mark, when Moneyfields scored with a bullet header from a corner.

Yet even as we stood there with grim resignation, knowing our team was inexorably sliding towards relegation, the Fareham fans still maintained their mini-wall of sound for the rest of the game. We were almost rewarded with a point near the end when Sammy Ssemwogere sent a shot goalbound, but the keeper stopped it.

To Motspur Park on Sunday for Atletico’s Capital Cup quarter-final at Fulham. Arrived in plenty of time. It was pouring with rain. I arrived at the Fulham FC training ground to be told by a friendly lady that doors wouldn’t open until 1 pm. I said I’d go and find somewhere to get something to eat and the lady recommended the pub just by the train station.

So I retraced my steps to the Earl Beatty. Happily, they had Paulaner Weißbier on. I went on the Greene King app and all the Sunday roasts were showing as out of stock, so I ordered a buttermilk chicken burger with a side of onion rings.

Nicola, a dear e-pal of mine, posted in a WhatsApp group chat we’re in and some of us chatted for a little while, and then I messaged her off-group and we exchanged private messages for a brief spell. With my spirits having been sagging since Friday evening, she provided a real tonic.

My chicken burger was excellent, though I was chagrined to see the couple at the next table get served Sunday turkey roasts.

I wandered back to the training ground - still in the rain - and was shown by the same lady to a path that led to the main pitch.

The teams were warming up. Beyond the stand, on the side of the pitch where Atleti were, a dropped channel ran along the ground to the corner where the players transited between the pitch and the dressing rooms. However, a steward said no-one was allowed to stand in the channel, so I had to shout to the girls from pitchside further up.

In the stand I found a group of ladies supporting Atleti and went to sit with them. Early on Atleti took the game to their opponents from one league higher, and Rea won the ball in the final third and perfectly fed Brooke Haylock. Brooke’s shot looked like it was over the line before the keeper gathered the ball, but the ref didn’t give it.

Fulham took advantage of their reprieve and scored two in quick succession. By half-time they’d added two more. The tie was all over barring a miracle.

There was a little van where a friendly lady sold coffee, cookies, cakes and crisps. I got a decaf, a bag of salt and vinegar and a Salt Lake City cookie.

Jo came on at half-time. The lady Atleti fans and I agreed that we had to go on the attack, three goals behind with nothing to lose. The second half was end to end with both defences resolute. Atleti did get a consolation when Jada McGibbon coursed down the wing and her cross was turned in for an own goal.

At full time I stood at pitchside just before the channel and clapped the girls off. I called out to Jo, who came over to me for a high five and a little chat.

The rain had stopped by now. I wandered back to the station. Got a train to Clapham Junction, where suddenly, with ten minutes or so before it was due, the Portsmouth train was listed as ‘delayed’, and soon was showing as not expected to show up within an hour. News came that a fatality on the Eastleigh-Basingstoke line had put that section out of action.

There were buses replacing trains between Petersfield and Portsmouth but there was little for it but to board the next Petersfield train. Then, on arrival at Petersfield, I needed the loo but the ones on the station were closed. Boarding the waiting replacement buses for the lengthy ride to Portsmouth wasn’t an option.

It was quite a long walk from the station to find a pub, but when I reached it the Square Brewery was a little gem. I ordered a half of London Pride, sank it and visited the facilities. Then headed back to the station, where there was a half hour wait before the next bus.

Arrived home around 9.15 and chilled in front of the Winter Olympics.

Atleti were without a game on Sunday. Towards the end of last week I noticed that Arsenal Women were playing Corinthians Femenino in the Women’s World Club Cup Final at the Emirates, and a certain Ms Chloe Kelly, who’d returned from injury during the week, came to mind.

I booked a ticket for the match, and only after completing the purchase spotted that kick-off was at 6pm. Thankfully I was able to book Monday as holiday and found a room at the Finsbury Park Travelodge. I messaged Rachel, who said she’d be in the Tollington Arms before the game.

No problems on the journey up. Arrived in Finsbury Park just after one, got lunch in a kebab house, went to Costa for a coffee and presented myself at the Travelodge at two, only to be told that check-in began at three. Back to Costa.

Having checked in I walked down to the Tallington, which was heaving with Arsenal fans. It wasn’t long till I found Rachel who was sitting at a table with her mate. She was delighted to see me. “This is a proper Arsenal pub,” she said. That was evident - there was Gunners memorabilia everywhere. We had a jar together and Rachel asked me if I’d be going to the Lionesses’ next match, against Ukraine in Turkey early next month. Sadly no, owing to limited funds and a need to save some annual leave for this autumn. She’s going, but we agreed to meet up at the following Lionesses match in Nottingham.

We heard a samba band approaching outside. Obviously the Corinthians fans. Rachel and her friend went rushing out to join the group of fans who were drinking outside in chanting “Who are ya?” at them.

Across the pub I saw a lady holding up a 50th birthday balloon. I walked across. She had a birthday sash on as well. I said “Happy birthday” and she said thank you.

From then, as well as just the principle of ‘cheering the English team’, I wanted Arsenal to win - for Chloe, for Rachel and for the birthday girl.

Rachel and Co left the pub at five to go on a fan walk to the stadium, parading behind a large Arsenal banner. I tagged along, to have a bit more time with Rachel before we separated as we were in different sections of the ground. They all sang their Arsenal songs, including one about their Champions’ League win in May that was very popular, and various songs about individual players. I was aware that I was a gatecrasher at someone else’s party, but there was a warmth in just being among them.

We arrived at the ground. Rachel and I said our goodbyes, I wished her a great time in Turkey and we said “see you in Nottingham”.

I was in a corner section twenty rows up from the pitch. Two rows in front of me I noticed the birthday girl with her balloon. When the squads were read out, when Chloe was named among the Arsenal substitutes I blew a kiss. Behind the far goal was a section of Brazilian fans who made plenty of noise throughout.

The teams appeared to a fanfare. Both teams came close then Olivia Smith nestled the ball into the rebound into the net from a saved shot from Stina Blackstenius. I jumped to my feet along with the crowd around me and joined in the mighty cheer.

Corinthians equalised from a corner soon after. Arsenal dominated the rest of the half. Meanwhile the rain started to pelt down and didn’t stop. Thank goodness we were under the roof.

Early in the second half Lotte Wubben-Moy headed home an Emily Fox cross to put the Gunners back in front.

Chloe came on for Beth Mead with a quarter of an hour to go. She put a good shift in.

It looked like they were going to lift the trophy until the fourth minute of injury time, when after a VAR enquiry Corinthians were awarded a penalty and scored. Extra time loomed.

Corinthians started extra time lively, but after Wubben-Moy headed a corner from Chloe wide, Frida Maanum flew forward on a counter-attack and fed Caitlin Foord, who smashed low and hard past the keeper. The stadium erupted.

There was more drama during injury time when keeper Anneke Borbe lay on the pitch for ten minutes after a collision with Wubben-Moy before finally being stretchered off. Because it was suspected concussion Arsenal were allowed to bring on their substitute goalie. The dying seconds were played out and Arsenal were World Club Champions.

With all the delay, I joined the substantial number of fans leaving the stadium, while die-hards stayed to see the trophy presentation. I was ready for something to eat and to chill at the hotel.

I’d seen Chloe play, seen English women’s football history made and seen a women’s football fan have a milestone birthday she’d never forget.

To London for Atlético v Hutton Ladies. Our American sponsor Curt and his wife were there and stopped for a quick chat with me in the clubhouse. Saw some of the girls out at the side of the pitch before the game, Rea gave me an effusive welcome again. Dave informed me that Jo was out of the side as she’d done her ankle during the week.

I sat in the row behind Dave. Across the aisle from us were some Hutton supporters, one of whom was a great help to Dave’s stat-collecting as he identified Hutton’s players. The first half was a grind in which neither team looked like scoring. The one incident was our goalkeeper Alex getting a whack in the face - thankfully after being seen to she was fine to play on.

Atlético brought on Lily Aungier late in the first half and Keira Stewart at half-time, and came out with a totally changed dynamic. Brooke Haylock was blatantly brought down in the box a few minutes after the break, but instead of a penalty she got booked for diving. All of us thought that absolutely shocking.

Justice was served a couple of minutes later when Rea won the ball in the Hutton half and fed Brooke who calmly slotted past the Hutton keeper.

Alex made a lovely save to protect our lead, then Brooke fired in two more to complete her hat-trick. One of our fans pointed out Jo to me; she was sitting in the next section. I went up to the barrier and said hello. She introduced me to her boyfriend and thanked me warmly for sponsoring her.

In the closing minutes, Amber Provan, a fine workhorse of a centre-back, got a well deserved moment of glory when she headed in our fourth from a corner.

A bit more of a chat with Jo as we waited by the tunnel to greet the players off the pitch, then the long journey home.

Arrived at Waterloo to find there wasn’t a Portsmouth train for nearly a quarter of an hour. I thought I’d save a bit of time by boarding a train that called at Southampton, where I’d change at Fareham, but my turnaround was only five minutes and the train slowed up on its way into Southampton and arrived just too late for my connecting train. So I was left sitting at Southampton for half an hour and got home no earlier than if I’d waited for the Portsmouth train.

Never mind, four goals, three points and two dear friends.

Went up to Heath and Reach on Friday for Christmas karaoke at The Dukes. We made our customary stop at Waddesdon Manor. Sadly the Christmas market wasn’t there - for some reason it had ended on the 14th - but there were still some street food stalls there so I got a delicious generous portion of ‘Bavarian’ tater tots with sauerkraut, German sausage and curry sauce, nicely washed down with a mulled wine. The house had an exhibition about Christmas around the world and the travels of Ferdinand de Rothschild and his family, who used to own the place.

Stopped in Leighton Buzzard for some chicken and chips then on to The Dukes to check in. They now have advertising for Camden Town Brewery on display and on the staff’s name badges. A bit of a chill in front of the telly till time for carol singing on the Village Green.

The Heath Band were in excellent form and there was a good crowd gathered. They opened with O Come All Ye Faithful and followed with Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer. It was all traditional carols after that, until the very end when, after God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, they closed with We Wish You A Merry Christmas, in its traditional form, I’m happy to say. I cannot believe some killjoys want to take out the figgy puddings. Everyone was in good voice, we got a mulled wine and a mince pie during the interval, and tins were passed round collecting for the band.

Crossed the road back to The Dukes. Sarah was sitting in the bar, we hugged and kissed, and she said she’d learned all of Fairytale of New York ready. I told her our duet was a keystone of my Christmas and she said it was the same for her. Unsurprisingly, the bar had a range of Camden Town beers on tap so I went for a pint of their stout to lubricate my vocal cords.

There was a bit of a delay as Sarah seemed to be having issues with the laptop that the karaoke tracks were on, and one of the mikes appeared to be on the blink. Eventually she was ready to go and went around asking people what they wanted to sing.

She called me up first. I opened with A Winter’s Tale then Stop The Cavalry and got a generous round of applause for both. Then Sarah stepped forward, announced how I’d travelled three hours to be there and that it was our tradition, and joined me for Fairytale Of New York. The equipment behaved itself, the duet went like a dream, and as I held Sarah and danced with her for the instrumental runout she said with pride how she’d remembered to join me singing the bit from “When the band finished playing”. I thanked her and sat down to a round of applause.

A big chap called Jack was next up singing Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire but, unknown to me, my evening on the stage wasn’t over by a long chalk. On the table behind us was the pub’s ladies’ darts team, who were a lively lot. Halfway through the evening one of them, Lol, asked if I’d sing with her sister. I agreed and her sister, Jan, asked if we could do Silent Night. She got Lol to join her in the Real Thing’s You To Me Are Everything then it was my cue. We made it through Silent Night then we returned to our seats and I got into a chat with the darts ladies.

It snowballed from there. I just had time to get a refill when a bloke called Mark, on his way up to do Shakin’ Stevens’ Merry Christmas Everyone, suddenly stopped by me and said “Come and sing with me”. Another of his mates was on the stage so it was Mark’s mate and I who sang the Shaky number while Mark danced around behind us. He was promptly nicknamed Bez.

A lady in a white jumper called Laura, a little reluctantly, went up next and did a lively rendition of All I Want For Christmas Is You alongside Mark’s mate. Mark Bezzed around again most of the time but joined in for the last verse. Lol asked me to join her singing White Christmas, I did my best to give it a warm Bing intonation, then when we returned to our seats Lol came up for a bit more of a chat.

Went to the bar for a refill where a guy in a replica rugby shirt congratulated me on my “courage and self-awareness”. I got to sit back and relax as Laura and a couple of others raised the roof with Wizzard’s I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday. Sarah thanked everyone for coming and wished us all a Merry Christmas then the darts ladies finished with Do They Know It’s Christmas? As people began to drift away I went over to Sarah to thank her, she thanked me for coming and said she hoped I’d be back again before next Christmas, and we said goodbye and Merry Christmas with a kiss.

Woke yesterday morning with an ominous dryness at the back of my throat but hoped it was just my mucous system being overproductive again. Felt sentimental passing by my old haunts on our way out of the village.

Woke up today with a mild sniffle. Time to reach for the First Defence. Fingers crossed…

Gosport Borough v Hanwell Town last night. Headed for the Supporters’ Club table to catch up with them. Paid my subscription for the season, played the football card (West Brom were available, they were bottom right) and the golden goal, and got added to the WhatsApp groups.

The club bar hadn’t gone full-on Christmassy, but they had a nice slimline Christmas tree up. After a quick jar, headed out into the ground to hear Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You coming over the PA. At the end of the record Jeremy, the matchday announcer, declared “That was Mariah Carey, if anything’s going to get you feeling Christmassy, that will. There are two young ladies down at the front feeling Chrismassy, they were dancing away there.” Jeremy did us proud, following up with Slade, Wizzard and Mud. As the teams waited to go out of the tunnel I noticed a young lady volunteer in a hi-vis was wearing a Santa hat.

The first half was goalless. Paul McCartney, John Lennon and Yoko Ono, and Jona Lewie followed on the PA. I went over to stand behind the goal in front of the clubhouse for the second half, just along from Gosport’s small band of singing fans. They went bananas on 70 minutes when Boro got a free kick just outside the box and Ben Greenwood curled it straight into the top left corner. One of those stunning goals where it takes a moment to sink in - and then you celebrate.

Late in the game Greenwood played Rafa Ramos through on goal and Rafa drilled the ball along the ground and into the net. Rafa had a strange goal celebration, standing with a solemn expression and arms folded, while his team-mates jumped about. Hanwell pulled one back during injury time, but the whistle blew, sparking unconfined joy at our end.

Jeremy wished everyone a safe journey home, reminded us the next home match is on Boxing Day against Havant and wished us all a pleasant and peaceful Christmas. We moseyed out of the ground to Shakin’ Stevens’ Merry Christmas Everyone.

To Chichester on Saturday for AFC Portchester’s away game with Bognor Regis Town. Met Ian on the train from Havant, but the rest of the Portchy crowd made their own way there. Ian said Brian was a real ale aficionado and would find us a good pub, so we waited outside the station for Brian to arrive then let him lead us through the city centre and down a side street to the Hole In The Wall. On our way we met Martin and he joined us.

Brian’s knowledge of the Good Beer Guide had served us well. The Hole was a lovely little place with real ales on six pumps and ciders on four. Brian and I both opted for the milk stout, very tasty. We found a corner table and studied the food menu. I asked for halloumi fries. The barman said they were off, so I went for the buttermilk chicken and the barman said “The buttermilk chicken’s better”. It was certainly first class. I just managed to resist the temptation to order seconds.

We all talked about Portchester’s prospects and players, and various places around the world where we’d seen football matches. Brian, a West London native, told us of his days supporting QPR and Harrow Borough - whom Portchester play next Saturday. He reckons he’s going to make a half-and-half scarf. Ian and Martin, supporters of Portsmouth FC to varying degrees, mused on Pompey’s current travails and predicted they were heading for League One.

We moseyed on to the ground, where the bar was decked out with Christmas decorations. I got some very tasty Southern fried chicken tenders and chips from the tea bar. Dan, Shaun, Nigel and a few others were there and had put up the Arancione banners as we gathered behind the goal. Michael Birmingham, the Bognor manager who’d wound us up with his antics in August, is no longer with Bognor so we interspersed the usual song repertoire with a few choruses of “Where’s your Birmy gone?” Bognor scored in a breakaway about halfway through the first half.

On 70 minutes Reuben Austin floated a free kick into the box for Portchester and Archie Willcox popped up at the back stick to head across the goalmouth and in for the equaliser. The referee seemed to be losing it as Bognor players got away with some physical shithousery, but the Arancione had the last laugh when Reuben fired an injury-time winner in off the crossbar.

The rest of the Portchy fans stayed on after the whistle to soak up the atmosphere. I said quick goodbyes and made for the train station in the hope of getting home for a good chunk of the Lionesses’ friendly with China.

That was the plan. Alas, after changing trains at Fratton station it gradually became evident that there were no trains running to Portsmouth Harbour. A fault with the signalling, apparently. I, along with a girl in the same boat, meandered out of the station and across the road to the bus stop, where at least the buses were accepting train tickets. Made it home for the last 20 minutes of the England game, seeing the last two goals of the Lionesses’ 8-0 rout of China.

I felt touched, yet sorry I hadn’t been able to be there, seeing photos of Crystal, Jules, Kathy, Jill and Steph all sitting together at the Lionesses match. When I messaged Crystal, she said I’d been missed. She’s a sweetheart.

Yesterday went to King George playing fields (lunching at the nearby McDonald’s first) to see the AFC Portchester Ladies Reserves play Basingstoke Town Women. Stacy, recovering from an operation, had come along to watch on her crutches. She followed the live stream of the first team’s Women’s FA Cup tie with Worthing on her phone, keeping us updated as the firsts came back from conceding an early goal to win 4-1 and set up a home encounter with WSL 2 side Ipswich. Meanwhile, the Reserve girls dominated their game and overcame determined defending to win 2-0 with goals from Aimee with the blue hair and Eilidh.

Got a lift to Woking with Dan on Tuesday night for Westfield v AFC Portchester, a new ground tick number 484 (plus a chance to bag the Luis Figo badge on Futbology). Joe and Colin joined us. We had to contend with a lot of traffic just getting out of Portsmouth, because of the firework display on Southsea Common. We talked a lot about Portchester’s team and fortunes on the drive, though as Dan and Colin also follow Portsmouth and Joe also follows Tottenham there was a fair bit of chat about those teams.

Once past the turnstile, the clubhouse was up a flight of stairs. The bar was comfortable, if a little compact, and the bartenders friendly and welcoming. The raffle ticket man was straight on to us as soon as we got to the bar; he was a jovial enough chap and I’m always happy to chip in for a non league club so bought a ticket, though sadly few other Portchy fans appeared to buy one.

Lewis and several more of the usual crew had also made the trip so we gathered behind the goal Portchester were shooting into each half, keeping up our song repertoire the whole game. Lee Wort put us in front early on, sparking a rendition of “Hey baby, ooh! aah! I wanna kno-o-ow if you love Lee Wort”. Westfield equalised just after the quarter hour mark. Late in the half Jack Lee timed his run perfectly to head home a corner, but just before the break Westfield struck again. 2-2. “Same again in the second half,” Justin said - jokingly…

Josh Clack had a shot deflected in ten minutes after the break, then soon after Lee Wort raced onto a through ball to drill home a low shot. 4-2 and Portchester appeared to be cruising, but Westfield attacked relentlessly from then on, and they scored from a goalmouth scramble on 72 minutes. The siege continued, and just into injury time a Westfield cross was diverted in for an own goal. It ended 4-4 and everyone reminded Justin of his words from half time! Before the game most of us would have taken a draw away to Westfield who were second in the table, but some like Dan thought a 4-2 lead shouldn’t have been let slip.

Getting home was a palaver as we were diverted off the A3 due to night roadworks, and the signs seemed to keep sending us back in the direction we’d come from. Eventually Dan found a way to head back towards Portsmouth, but it became clear we weren’t going to make Cosham station in time to make a train to reach Portsmouth Harbour before the last ferry left. Dan dropped me at Fareham rail station and it wasn’t long before a taxi pulled in.

Wednesday evening was the Round The Horne stage show at Fareham Live. Bumped into Brad, who I worked with at ONS, and his friend Lynda in the cafe. He called out to me when I was queueing at the counter. Naturally, as Round The Horne fans I had to greet him “How bona to vada your dolly old eek!” We sat and talked about the classic radio comedy shows. We were all delighted to see from a flyer we’d been given that a stage show of the Two Ronnies’ Phantom Raspberry Blower of Old London Town is due next year. Brad being a The Prisoner nut, we parted to our respective seats with a “Be seeing you!”

The show was an on-stage recreation of a radio production of Round The Horne, with an old style ‘On Air’ sign, five people in chairs playing Kenneth Horne, Douglas Smith, Kenneth Williams, Betty Marsden and Hugh Paddick, and a sound effects man behind a table marked with an old style BBC logo. There were two halves, staged as two episodes, each comprised of material from the original shows. Eve Winters was fantastic as Betty Marsden. Colin Elmer was hilarious as Kenneth Williams. As always my favourites were the Rambling Syd Rumpo songs, The Ballad of the Woggler’s Moulie in the first half and Green Grow My Nadgers O, for which the cast got us all singing along, in the second.

Friday evening was Portsmouth Oktoberfest at the Guildhall. Two guys in lederhosen in the queue noticed with amusement that I’d come in civvies. I quipped that when I saw them dressed up I thought they were part of the oompah band. The bar, despite advertising Paulaner Weißbier Dunkel, didn’t actually have it, so I spent the night on Paulaner Lemon Radlers. Bratwursts from the van very tasty. The Oompah Brass were good playing a selection of well known party tunes. They did several renditions of the Bavarian drinking chant “Ein Prosit der Gemütlichkeit”, and they had a routine where they got us to link arms and ‘lean forward, lean backward, to the left, to the right, stand up, sit down, to the left, to the right,” repeating the routine progressively faster. That one was quite amusing the first time, but it started to pall by the seventh time they launched into it in an hour. Next was singer Darren Poyser, who got a big thumbs up from me for opening with Sit Down by James and included several more classics in his set like American Pie and Summer of ‘69.

Yesterday joined several of the Portchester crew on the train to their match at Littlehampton - new ground 485. We’d just come out of the station when we met Lewis and his pal Alex, a local. Alex tipped us off about a new sports bar, The Bear, so several of us went there for a couple of pints and a chat and Tottenham v Man Utd on the big screen.

In the ground we gathered behind the goal for the first half. We kept up the chants again but the defence were caught napping, allowing Littlehampton two early goals. Just before half time Tommy Scutt fired home a rocket, then soon after Josh Clack pounced in the box to equalise for Portchester.

The tea hut was equipped with several mugs advertising a haulage firm with bases in London, Hemel Hempstead, Reading and Oxford - but none anywhere near Littlehampton. Quite how those mugs ended up at the club I’d love to know. Another of those quirks that make non league football so compelling.

For the second half the Portchester support gathered on a terrace, along a long side at the end nearest the goal we’d be shooting for. The steady flow of songs continued, and one guy kept making an almighty din by banging on the metal wall at the back of the terrace, but Littlehampton scored the only goal of the half to take the points.

My encounter with the Portchy Ladies Reserves girls a fortnight ago reminded me that I hadn’t seen them play since pre-season. And then last Sunday came news that Stacy scored. Then this week Stacy and Roxy sent me an invitation to their wedding reception next summer. So today I moseyed over to the new King George V football complex at Cosham - new ground 486 - to see them play Shanklin. When Roxy arrived I thanked her for the invitation and she said “We look forward to seeing you there”. Stacy warned me that they wouldn’t be on the state of the art new 3Gs but on one of the old grass pitches. And so it proved. Another afternoon on my feet. At least the cafe and loos were a step up from the days playing on the Wicor outside pitch when the stadium facilities were closed.

Stacy, Charley, Lisa, Paula and Co. all glad to see me again. They won 6-2, Eilidh scoring four, three of them lobs over the goalie from set pieces. After the game Charley said this had been predicted to be their toughest league game so everyone was chuffed. As I said goodbye to Stacy she said it would be her last game for a few weeks as she’s going in for an operation. I wished her luck.

Brighton & Hove Albion Women v Man Utd Women. A noon kick-off with replacement buses on the route from Portsmouth to Crawley. So I’d booked train tickets to Gatwick Airport, knowing a bus went from there to the ground.

The down side was that the train from Portsmouth to Gatwick goes all the way round via Hove, making for a long ride. And it wasn’t long before the train filled, leaving me pinned in my window seat with the other two people on my bench bunched close together. Arriving at Gatwick came as a blessed relief.

It’s always a wistful feeling passing through a bit of the terminal to get from the train station to the bus stop, passing departing and returning holidaymakers. At the bus stop, several people in open-topped vintage cars went by, some dressed up in costumes, and most of them exchanged waves with us people in the bus queue. The only ones to ignore us were a group done up as young 1920s toffs in blazers - someone should have let them know that dressing as posh people does not oblige you to act stuck-up.

As the bus rolled towards Crawley town a few more people going to the game got on - a couple in Brighton scarves, and a Manchester United fan who sat next to me. I asked him how his journey down was, and he replied “Good”…in a foreign accent. From the bus I saw a sign pointing down a side road saying ‘VCR Pitstop’. A couple of the vintage cars turned that way. Obviously a rally.

It was close to 11.30 when I arrived at the ground and there was a lengthy queue at the turnstiles for my stand. Along the side was a pizza stall and a mobile chippy, dispensing some very tempting looking chips. After six or so people and couples, it wasn’t clear whether the queue carried on; there was a group of girls at that point so I asked “Are you for the chippy?”

“Yes, sorry,” said one of the girls. There were about ten more people behind them so ‘Kate’s Fish and Chips’ would have to wait until another day. I joined the line to get into the ground.

I got in with 15 minutes until kick-off. Passed the Brighton samba band in front of the stand and got to my seat a couple of blocks in at the far end. A group of people held out a circular banner with names of Brighton & Hove Albion war fallen on, and we joined the players in standing for the Last Post and a minute of silence.

The game kicked off with a chorus of ‘Seagulls!’ going up from our stand led by the samba band. Without faltering in my support for Brighton, it was something special to see the United stars like Jayde Riviere, Ella Toone and Maya Le Tissier in the flesh. The teams were pretty evenly matched through the first half but almost on the stroke of half-time Elisabeth Terland drilled home along the ground to put the visitors in front.

It became clear at that point that there were a number of United fans in our stand. Needless to say there was no trouble, just as when several of us home fans had to walk along the length of the front of the away end to get to the tea bar there were no incidents, the travelling Reds just going on singing.

From their conversation it was clear that the man and lady behind me were also United fans. Their tracksuits said ‘Haslemere Hockey Club’ and ‘Sevenoaks Hockey Club’ respectively. United supporters from Surrey and Kent are a cliché, but these two knew their stuff when discussing United Women’s players and tactics, and they made the effort to come to the game - and no doubt they do the same whenever United Women play in London - so fair play to them. And I used to do the same for the Lady Pies when I lived in darkest Bedfordshire.

And I did meet some Mancunian United fans at, and on the way back from, the tea bar. Some had travelled down yesterday, others this morning.

The amazing Jess Park made it two for United with a chip. The evergreen Fran Kirby gave Brighton Hope rolling a through ball from Olislagers into the net, but Park teed up substitute Lisa Naalsund to restore United’s two goal cushion. There was one more twist when Kiko Seike cracked in a thunderbolt to pull one back for Brighton, but despite lively substitute Rachel McLauchlan spearheading a late rally, the Seagulls couldn’t get an equaliser.

At Gatwick Airport station, the train to Portsmouth was showing on the board as delayed, and the delay steadily grew before settling at 17 minutes. On the platform, the describer board gave the reason : urgent repairs to the track. Thankfully the train home wasn’t crowded, I got a double seat, and there were no more delays en route.