Out there I feel sad not to see her no more

With Saints Women away and Portchester Ladies Reserves not having a game, and not having seen Watford FC Women for too long, I decided to pay the Golden Girls a visit today. The only snag was that it was a noon kick-off. And engineering works meant the only Portsmouth to London trains running were the ones to Waterloo on the Winchester-Basingstoke line or the ones to Victoria going around the Sussex coast.

So it was an early start (thank goodness for the extra hour in bed) to catch the 7.17 to Waterloo via Basingstoke. To make matters worse, according to the announcer, because there were a lot of carriages ‘out of place’ due to yesterday’s storms, we had only a five carriage train when it should have been ten. I was one of the lucky ones, getting on at the start, but by Winchester the train was jam packed. Then heading into London we were held at red signals a couple of times. Mercifully we reached Waterloo in time for me to hop onto the Bakerloo line and reach Queen’s Park with ten minutes to spare.

On the Lioness line to Watford (I love travelling to women’s matches on that line) there were two guys sitting nearby talking about Watford’s women’s and men’s teams. Wearing my Watford bobble hat, I nodded to them and got a hello back.

Walking along Vicarage Road I met Mark, who I used to see at matches back when I lived in Leighton Buzzard, and a couple of other fans. Mark said a surprised, friendly hello, and we walked along having a quick catch-up. We all agreed this was a must win game for the Golden Girls, and talked about how we thought the other WSL2 teams would fare this season.

As we were sitting in different sections, I said ‘see you soon’ to the others as they stopped for a chat on the corner of Yellow Brick Road and made my way round the ground to my entrance.

Arriving in the Graham Taylor Stand lower tier, I stopped at the refreshment counter and got a chicken tenders burger and chips. I saw Mark and Co in the block nearest the goal, with flags up and musical instruments. On my way to my seat I met David, another familiar face from back in the day. Another catch-up before I went to take my seat.

Opposite us was the Elton John Stand, complete with lyrics from Your Song on the boards at the top. They played Your Song over the PA as well. Then came the uplifting strains of the theme from Z Cars as the teams took to the pitch.

The Golden Girls were on the attack from the start, and just after the quarter hour Phoebie Poole opened the scoring, turning home an exquisite cross from Maddison Perry. Soon after half time Vera Jones made it two from close range after the Durham keeper spilled the ball. Aoibheann Clancy scored direct with an inswinger from a corner, then on 65 minutes the magnificent Maddison Perry curled a long-range ball in off the post for Watford’s fourth. At the other end the Golden Girls’ Wales international keeper Safia Middleton-Patel (my autistic comrade) made some super saves. Beth Hepple pulled back two for Durham in the closing minutes but Watford had our all-important first league win.

As we drifted away from the ground another Elton John number, Sacrifice, played over the PA. Hope we get Crocodile Rock or Wrap Her Up at a future game I’m at.

Arrived back at Waterloo to find the next Portsmouth train had been cancelled due to a tree blocking the railway. That meant a three quarters of an hour wait. Only one thing for it - hit the Waterloo Arms BrewDog bar. Sadly, the brewery had neglected to stock the place with their imperial stout, Dog K, but a Black Heart went down nicely enough.

Flew to Heraklion Thursday of last week for the Lionesses’ World Cup qualifier. The apparently helpful lady in the bus ticket kiosk directed me onto the wrong bus for my hotel. In fairness she’d probably only heard me say “Leoforos 62 Martyron” and didn’t hear the number at the end - L62M is a very long main road so has a plethora of bus stops, each identified with a building number at the end. Thankfully, Heraklion’s buses tell you what the next three stops are, so I was able to get off before the bus turned off L62M.

Problem - I went to consult my phone, to find the route to walk the rest of the way, and found I was without internet. I made my way to the nearest bus stop to the hotel by following the numbers on the buildings (not as many of them displayed their numbers as one would have liked). Once there, thankfully the street my hotel was on was just off the main road and had a street name sign displayed. The hotel was a few minutes’ walk along the crumbling pavement.

The hotel was an ‘apart hotel’ and my room indeed turned out to be a spacious apartment. Once there I rang EE UK and explained my lack of net. The customer service agent advised me to hang up and then change mobile networks. Thank goodness that did the trick.

The main road my hotel was just off was mostly buildings like car and furniture showrooms with no eateries in evidence. A sign in the front porch of the hotel said there was food and drink 8 minutes along the main road. Sure enough, there was a cafe with the comforting sight of the familiar Coca-Cola awning. The menu was in Greek only, so I went with what I knew - a chicken souvlaki. Very tasty.

Steph messaged to say she’d found a beach bar apparently equidistant between their hotel and mine, so I got a bus out to the bar that evening. On meeting, after Jill, Steph and I exchanged hugs and kisses, we compared notes and found that their hotel was on the far side of the bar from mine. Steph said “Bloody Google” but we ended up glad we’d come there. We were the only customers in the whole bar - the joys of visiting a holiday resort out of season - and the bartender was a really friendly guy who couldn’t do enough for us. Throughout the evening the telly played banging 80s tunes as well from Debbie Gibson, Tiffany, Adam and the Ants, Peter Gabriel and more. There was no raki or ouzo on the drinks menu but they did do Amstel Radler - my favourite tipple in a hot country - so I supped those all evening (surprising Steph, who’s used to me having a different drink each round). Steph and I noticed that here the Amstel bottles’ labels were in Greek letters. We spent a very pleasant evening chatting then got on a bus together, as we were going in the same direction though I had to get off before them. Waiting at the bus stop, we discussed the soaps and Steph said she and Jill had done the Corrie set tour and loved it. I asked which star they’d met, they said George the undertaker and that he was a really nice guy.

Friday was the pre-match fan meet-up at a restaurant-bar called ‘Envy’. When I arrived Jill and Steph were at a table in the corner with Crystal and a friend of Crystal’s called Kayleigh. After quick hellos, hugs and catch-ups with Leanne and Rachel, I went over and joined Crystal and Co. You couldn’t go to the bar and order drinks here, you had to wait until you caught the eye of a waiter or waitress, so when we did get the attention of one of them we ordered our drinks two each at a time. Again, no sign of ouzo or raki on the menu but they too did Amstel Radlers so I settled on them for the whole time again.

At 5.45 Deb and the Free Lionesses crew called us all to head outside for a couple of group photos with the seafront behind us. They were a while getting us all organised (Rachel said it had been like trying to herd cats) then they were a while getting enough photos done that they were happy with, including Rachel doing a panoramic 360 of us all shouting ‘England!’ Several of us still had outstanding drinks bills so we headed back into the bar, where the duty waitress had to call for her colleague for us to settle up with.

We did the leisurely 25 minute walk to the stadium, seeing a few more familiar faces among us as we drifted along. There were people who looked like riot police stationed outside the away end. What’s the betting the local police had braced themselves for a horde of marauding fans like those who follow the England men’s team abroad, and been bemused when they got us well-behaved lot instead?

We entered the stadium about an hour before kick-off. There was only one refreshment kiosk for the whole away end and it was up two flights of stairs. By the time I arrived after visiting the loo, the queue was a mile long. Still several places away from the front ten minutes before kick-off, I gave up at that point and headed for my seat - which had been taken but I was able to appropriate an aisle seat in the centre block with a good view of the pitch. Seeing the Lionesses’ names on the Titantron in Greek letters was a novelty.

There were people I’d seen in front of me in the queue arriving in their seats five or even ten minutes into the match, clutching their hard-won plastic cups of non-alcoholic beer. We thought Lauren James had given us the lead with a beautiful long lob on 20 minutes but it was chalked off. Eventually Georgia Stanway put England in front from close range late in the first half.

Basil was stood at the front of the end the whole time trying to get us all singing, exhorting us with “Come on England fans” and launching into the chants like “England till I die” and “Champions of Europe” or at one point “We’ve got Hannah Hampton in our goal”. During the second half he appeared to be having a bit of an exchange of views with one of the stewards stationed in front of our end.

I was delighted when Maya le Tissier made it two just after the hour from a tricky angle. As much as Lucy Bronze is a heroine of mine, I believe Maya has a rock-solid claim to be the starter right now, and her goal was exquisite. Soon after, Alessia Russo answered those fans who’ve been murmuring about her being off form for Arsenal, playing a one-two with Beth Mead and firing home low for England’s third.

The Lionesses took their feet off the gas a bit after that and a Greek forward caught our defence napping and pulled one back with a low shot from the left. Basil straight away yelled “it doesn’t matter, we’ll get one more to make up for it”, repeating the latter part a couple of times in between starting chants. We didn’t, but we held on for the rest of the game.

Security held us in the stadium for about a quarter of an hour after the match. Fortunately Deb from Free Lionesses was wandering among us keeping us updated. Finally we were set free and, apart from a bit of confusion about which way to follow at a crossroads, I made a pretty straightforward 15-minute walk back to the hotel, calling at a convenience store just before the hotel for a Greek frozen yogurt on a stick and a couple of lemon twist Pepsis.

On the bus to the airport on Saturday I found myself sat behind two girls, one of them in an England shirt. Through her long black hair, I could see bits of what was likely the name BRONZE above the number 2 on the back. On a Lioness trip abroad, you greet any fellow England fan as a friend, so I said hello to them. They revealed they were actually Greek, from Lamia on the mainland, and were on their way to get a ferry home. The girl in the England shirt was just a huge admirer of the Lionesses, especially Lucy, so she was gutted Lucy was out injured.

At Gatwick there was a long wait at the baggage carousel before it finally got moving. I was very tempted to go to the Gents but didn’t dare in case it started up before I got back; in the event, I’d have made it back comfortably. Happily my bag wasn’t too long in showing up and I made it to my hotel in Stratford (the Stratford in East London, not on Avon) comfortably in time to get to the theatre.

The play, Bloodsport, was a tad more violent than I’d expected but very interesting. As I’d heard, it relocated the story of Helen of Troy to present-day Essex. Here, Mario (the Agamemnon character) oozed toxic masculinity, and Helen was deeply resentful at having been made the pretext for a civil war and at having been forcibly brought back to the husband she’d left. In this version, Helen’s response was to form a vigilante army of women to take revenge on men. Michelle Dockery and Laura Aikman gave great performances as Helen and Cee (the Clytemnestra character) respectively.

Tuesday was the second leg of the England-Greece game, at Leicester, much to Jill and Steph’s delight as it’s their home city. We met in the bar of the Voco hotel, where I was staying, around 4.30, with Alice joining us.

Steph revealed that since the mad Icelander took us all for being members of the same family, she has Alice listed as ‘Junior’ in her phone and Alice has her listed as ‘Mum Steph’. Rachel and a couple of her pals dropped by quick to say hello to us on their way to a meet-up somewhere else.

We ordered food - Steph was going to have a light bite like me (I’d had a fairly hearty lunch from the Leicester City Chippy) but when Jill and Alice both ordered fish and chips Steph said “I’ve got to join you or I’ll get fish and chip envy”. As Steph and Alice asked each other how their meals were they called each other ‘junior’ and ‘Mumsy’. I joined in, asking Steph “how’s your fish and chips, darling?” and she called me “sweetheart” in reply. That had Alice saying she was going to get Steph and me England shirts for Christmas with “Mum” and “Dad” printed on them. When the laughter from that had died down Alice called Jill “Nanna”. I asked Jill “So are you my mum or Steph’s?” Steph told me about their plans to attend several of the Women’s Ashes next summer. The only downside is it’s at the same time as the Women’s football World Cup in Brazil. I noted that after their cricketing adventure ends they’d still have time to get to Rio for the football World Cup Final. From then on you could tell that Steph and Alice were itching with the idea of trying to get tickets.

When we’d eaten up we set off for the ground. Jill and Steph turned out to be in the same section as me, just a few rows back. Any jitters fans might have had about the closeness of the first game were dispelled as England cruised to a 5-0 win. The amazing Lauren James netted twice (once with a sumptuous assist from Maya le Tissier), Alessia Russo also bagged a brace and Georgia Stanway headed in a lovely cross fro a Lauren Hemp. During the second half Karen Carney and her two pitchside co-presenters walked along the touchline in front of my block - I called out “Y’alright Karen?” and she waved back.

Jill. Steph, Alice and I walked back to the Voco together. This time Rachel, Leanne and their crew came along to have a sesh on a long table adjacent to ours. Alice chipped early to get a train home to Nottingham. The rest of us carried on until Jill and Steph said they needed to make the short walk home, with work next day, and we all said our goodbyes to each other and to our friends at the other table.

Back to the office Thursday morning, to a week’s accumulated mountain of work. Happily there was nothing troublesome and I got finished by close of play.

Changed my code on Saturday - headed for Twickenham to see the Red Roses take on New Zealand’s Black Ferns. In the cafe at Portsmouth Harbour station there were two young ladies wearing ‘Girl Power’ T-shirts and garlands of red and white paper roses. I asked if they were going to the rugby. They said yes.

“Me too.” I was wearing my England Rugby Sport Relief beanie and my Philosophy Football T-shirt commemorating the Red Roses’ World Cup win.

“See you there,” the girls said as they headed out of the door.

The train steadily accumulated more fans at each stage along the way to Clapham Junction. The platform at Clapham for the Twickenham train was a sea of red and white with a few rugby club jerseys.

Walked along from Twickenham station to the stadium in a jolly tide of fans. Loved a sign I saw in the window of a take-away - “We have beers colder than your ex’s heart”. Stopped at a German sausage stall for a Bratwurst.

Tasty as that was, I should have held on until I reached the stadium - once through the entrance gate there were more street food stalls than you could shake a stick at. Got a sundae from the ice cream van, then a cider from the Union 15 bar that sits across from the rear of the stand.

There was a carnival atmosphere in the stands. When the teams were read out every England name got an enormous cheer. The game was a humdinger with the lead changing hands several times. I got an excellent helping of pork belly bites from the Union 15 at half time. Finally England won the game with a last minute try.

I’ll certainly go and see the Red Roses again.

On the walk back to the station electronic boards told us which way to go for trains in each direction. There were loads of us in the queue for London trains, and staff in hi-vises let us on to the platform periodically in groups. It wasn’t long before I made it onto there. There was a train sitting there, but it was packed, so I let that one go and waited nine minutes for the one after. Got a seat.

Got onto the first Portsmouth train at Clapham Junction but it was the service that stopped at every station. Consulted Trainline and changed at Woking for a faster one. Made it home to crack open a beer for most of the England v Spain men’s football match.

Back to round balls on Sunday - Southampton FC Women v Nottingham Forest at St Mary’s. My seat was high up in a corner - selected by me from the map, I like the view from there - but far away from anyone else. As much as it’s nice for the players to get to play in major stadiums, I actually prefer it when Saints play at Eastleigh. Our crowds of 1000 to 2000 create much more of an atmosphere in the compact ground there. An even game ended a 1-1 draw. I was sat close to the barrier with the away end: on my way down the stairs at full time I scanned the couple of dozen Forest fans and thought I saw a girl I used to see at Lady Pies matches back in the day.

And then this morning Amy Turner shared a reel on Instagram from the official Women’s FA Cup account of the Lady Pies team from the 2015 final. Great memories.

Friday evening AFC Portchester played Whitstable Town in the FA Trophy at Chichester City’s ground (relaying work on Portchy’s pitch will last into October). It turned out a ‘safety inspection of the track’ was playing havoc with the trains - I faced a half hour wait at Havant and had to grab a snack from the platform cafe there since it was clear there’d be no time to eat in Chichester before heading up to the ground. Then on arrival it turned out that the clubhouse was out of bounds due to a private function - we spectators all had to stay outside, with just a little cart dispensing a very limited selection of alcoholic beverages. I had to settle for a Thatchers. The Southern Fried chicken tenders and chips from the food van filled a hole nicely though.

Trev was sitting at the back of the little stand behind the goal and managed to lose his clipboard down the back of the stand, down a narrow space beyond his reach. I alerted a lady security officer in a hi-vis and she managed to reach down and retrieve it.

Alas, my luck remains right out where Portchester blackout cards are concerned. Having dipped out the previous Saturday because the card was already full when the lady reached the terrace where the rebels and I were standing, this time there just wasn’t a card in evidence at all. Maybe the lady who does the cards wasn’t able to make the longer trip for a night game. So having purposely withdrawn a load of £2 coins from the bank for the purpose of playing blackout cards, they continue to rattle around in my pocket.

I joined Lewis, Ian, Dan and some more of the rebels behind the goal and we kept up a good sing-song throughout. The first half ended goalless. I ended up carrying the Portchy Ultras flag around the ground to the other end during half-time and putting it up behind the other goal. Whitstable began to get on top after the break and scored. After the goal Portchy goalie Kieran Magee was sent off - word soon reached us that it was for foul language to the linesman. Whitstable doubled their lead, and although Lee Wort gave us hope with a beautiful goal the visitors soon notched a third to bury the tie.

Ian and I walked back to the train station. It was all right for him - he was going to Havant - but the chaos on the railways still reigned, and the Portsmouth Harbour trains for the next hour were cancelled. I ended up going to Fareham and getting a cab home from there.

Saturday I went to London to see Cleansed at the Almeida. On the walk along Upper Street from Highbury & Islington tube there was, joy of joys, a KFC. After my envy of my aunt and cousin’s Colonel night on Wednesday, that was the only place to get lunch.

I was sat in the very top row of the compact venue. Next to me were two women who said something to each other about being familiar with Sarah’s work.

The play was well performed but very different; notably the heavy use of between-dialogue choreography made it stand out. All the action was staged in a medical room and corridor, plus a garden of daffodils that appeared from under the edge of the stage halfway through; it was very effective and added intensity, as did the ambient chilling sound that played in the background most of the time. Tinker symbolically bound and bloodied Carl’s body parts to represent detaching them, a very strong stand-in. I wonder whether one day a production will succeed in including the rats! For this production The Beatles’ The Things We Said Today was replaced with The Kinks’ Days - that got no complaints from me as the latter is one of my favourite songs, though naturally I wish they’d used Kirsty MacColl’s version. A few people walked out during the second half; I guess if you’re not familiar with the play it would be a bit too gory for some.

Went to the bar to have a drink for Sarah, thinking about her own assessment of her play : “it’s very 60s and hippie - they’re all just in love”.

Quiet time the rest of the long weekend, catching up on the shows I’d recorded. Back in the jug in the morning.

Portchester men friendly at Fareham last night. Lewis, Ian and most of the usual crew were there. The young lady steward who always enjoys some banter with us was on duty; she even followed us round to the other end for the second half. She said none of Fareham’s other opponents bring fans who she can have a laugh with like us. I suggested to Lewis that we make her an honorary Aranciona. The game was a sedate typical pre-season friendly that ended a 1-1 draw. We struck up a few of the team songs, and the odd chant for a player when they showed a lively moment. The rest of the time during the first half, most of the group reflected on the World Cup, some pleased with England’s best showing at the tournament since 1966 but others lamenting the tactics of sitting on a 1-0 lead after 55 minutes that proved the Three Lions’ undoing against Argentina. Matt wondered out loud whether England would win a World Cup in his lifetime. I did my best to pivot people’s thoughts to the next Euros, being staged in the British Isles in two years’ time. Other recurring themes among the Portchy fans were that FIFA are corrupt as f**k and Donald Trump is a dick.

Through the second half Lewis, Rick and I discussed grounds we’d visited, and ones that we have the prospect of going to first time this season. Lots of the Portchy fans are excited about going to Jersey in September, but it’s not on for either Lewis or me - he’s a teacher and the game is on a Tuesday night in term-time, while I simply don’t have enough annual leave spare. I mentioned that I have the consolation of a possible visit to Guernsey with the Ladies’ Reserves and Lewis reminisced about some of the girls now in the reserve team having been in the original Portchy Ladies when they formed six years ago.

The final whistle went, Lewis dutifully joined me in a quick burst of the ‘The Creek is all orange’ song but he clearly wanted to get it over with. We said fond goodbyes to our friend the steward, who to our surprise revealed that she is only 18 - we’d thought she was a bit older than that.

Home for the Commonwealth Games highlights on 5.

Flew to Palma de Mallorca on Thursday for the Lionesses match. No problems with the flight out. Despite having been fingerprinted in Reykjavik, I had to have my prints done again on an automatic self-service screen at passport control. Call me a Luddite, but I prefer having my passport checked by a human. Hotel a short taxi ride away. Spent Thursday evening and Friday daytime mooching around the hotel and watching stuff on YouTube. Excellent food in the hotel restaurant - patatas bravas and a Greek salad on Thursday evening. Majorcan breakfast on Friday morning, toasted baguette spread with a honey-based paste over toasted sliced cold meat, very tasty.

I didn’t go to the gathering as it was some way out of my way and would have left us with a 45 minute walk to the ground, plus I’m on a tight budget, and I was waiting to hear from the Portchester Ladies Reserves lot who’d said in the morning they’d message later (they didn’t). Padding around the hotel until early evening, staying away from the tourist traps, suited me fine.

On the bus to the stadium there were a couple in England shirts - they replied to my ‘hello’ but otherwise kept themselves to themselves. Getting off at the Son Moix bus stop I followed them, and some people in Spain kits, thinking they’d lead me to the ground - but they all went into a Lidl. Asking the English couple if the ground was this way, they said they’d come into the Lidl to buy water.

Finally I found the ground. A mass of England fans were being held at a barrier put up on the pavement by the Guardia. I found Leanne near the front, went up and said hello. She went tootling off somewhere before they let us in. The team coaches pulled down the little side road between the barricades holding us, and into the car park. A big cheer went up to greet them.

I wandered around for a while looking for a food or drink stall, but nada. When I got back to the away entrance they were letting people in. One security man frisked me, another waved his wand around me, I got the all clear. Climbed two flights of stairs to get to the away fans’ section which was in the upper tier.

The food stall wasn’t selling at first because of a technical hitch with the computerised ordering screens. Eventually the kiosk lady just let us tell her what we wanted to her face and sold it in the old-fashioned way. There wasn’t a lot on offer, though - I had to make do with a little baguette, a packet of nuts and a bottle of water.

I scanned the away end for anyone I knew. Spotted Ash fairly soon and we chatted a bit about our respective seasons. Next I met Lindsey who was wearing a ‘happy birthday’ bonnet and a badge saying ‘happy birthday’ in Spanish. I wished her many happy returns and we hugged, kissed and talked a while. Gary, who sometimes comes to Atlético games, came up to me for a catch-up and asked after Jo.

It was 15 to 20 minutes before kick-off when Leanne finally appeared. I asked where she’d got to and she said security was a nightmare. Rachel showed up soon after and made straight for the Ladies. We said our hellos with a hug and a kiss when she came out. With still no sign of the Portchester girls I headed for my seat, high up.

The game…Spain were different class and England were never in it. As Claire posted on the Messenger group, our defence had the consistency of wet tissue paper. By half time Spain were two up.

At the break I wandered around the away end looking for the Portchester crowd. As I plodded down the staircase I heard a voice calling me. It was Lisa. She was on the staircase two blocks away.

I carried on down to the bottom. Lisa, Charley, Kalli, Jess and Roxy came down and met me there. Roxy said to me “well done on keeping a secret” - as I’d known since April, this was her hen do, and she’d only known they were going to Magaluf. It was that morning at Gatwick that they’d surprised her with an England shirt and revealed that they had tickets for the match. They got me to pose for a photo with them and we talked till the teams came back out.

England fared no better after the break. Spain added a third early on. Later they brought on triple Ballon D’Or winner Aitana Bonmati and the amazing Claudia Pina. What chance did we have against a team that can keep players like them on the subs’ bench? Sure enough, Pina got on the end of a ball from Bonmati, jinked through the England defence and struck home a fourth.

The final whistle went on the Lionesses’ worst result for 17 years. I, like most of the away end, headed straight for the exit and out of the ground to where the special buses waited. The one I got on was almost all England fans (there was one Spanish couple). “This is the commiseration bus”, the guy behind me said. We were all in a state of shell shock. One fan bravely suggested that Iceland might do us a favour and deny Spain victory on Tuesday, but no-one thought that was an option. We all knew we’re facing the play-offs.

We thought the bus was going ‘fast’ to Plaza España, which for me would have meant a 20 minute walk back to my hotel. I looked out wistfully as the bus actually flew past the hotel. Fortunately, it did a stop a couple of minutes later. Even more welcome, there was a kebab shop, ‘Mesopotamia’, on the short walk back. Had my excellent kebab back in the room and watched some classic comedy shows on YouTube.

At Palma airport yesterday, found a cafe that sold tasty ‘healthy baguettes’ - and a San Miguel Radler beer, just the ticket. Met Helen as I was walking to my boarding gate. She was flying back to Manchester and was surprisingly chipper. She said she’d be at the game in Liverpool on Tuesday and looked forward to seeing me there.

The plane to Bournemouth was delayed. According to the Ryanair app it was because “the aircraft has changed”. We were an hour late taking off in the end. Landed at 4.20 pm. Stood in a snake at the UK Border but not too slow-moving. Through to baggage reclaim - not long before mine showed up.

Ho hum.

AFC Portchester Ladies away at Sholing today. The main clubhouse, at the far end of the ground from the entrance, was locked. The marquee close to the entrance was laid out for a christening, so I guessed rightly that that would be out of bounds to football spectators. I went to sit at a table in the little foyer of the adjacent building, but was cleared out after a minute by a club official. He said the booking for the christening included the foyer as well.

So, despite it being a cold day (we even got a spot of rain a little while before kick-off), all of us who were there for the football had to stay outside all afternoon. When the serving hatch lady remarked on the weather, I said to her “What a day to keep us outside.” She said the club had probably thought the weather would be favourable when they allowed the booking for the private function.

At half time I spoke to a home fan who said they don’t normally open the main bar for ladies’ matches but they do usually open the marquee - it was just our bad luck that there was a private function on.

But the Portchy girls won 3-1.

Wembley yesterday for the Lionesses’ match with Spain. Made sure to pick up an Inside Soap at Waterloo, with its feature with Jodie Prenger talking about her Corrie alter ego, the love of my life Glenda Shuttleworth. Her saying she and the others love making the scenes with the ladies’ friendship circle came as no surprise, they’re such a joy to watch.

Arrived on Olympic Way just before two, called at the Greek food van for a late lunch. Was mooching around waiting for the Premier Inn to open when Jules and Crystal messaged to say they’d be heading to Blue Check for a quick snifter before their dinner plans. So I headed over there.

The lovely Deb from Free Lionesses was there, with a hug, a kiss and a wristband for a discount at the bar for me. Ash was there wanting to chat about QPR and Wales as normal. A quick hello with Rachel, Leanne and Lindsey. Maisie, a fellow Ipswich fan, arrived so I led her toasting the Tractor Boys’ win over the arch enemy Norwich at the weekend.

Jules and Crystal arrived and we found a table. It being the first time we’d met since last summer, we had a lot to catch up on. We talked our lives in and out of work and mutual friends, and Jules shared anecdotes on her and people she knew. They went off to the Italian restaurant they’d agreed to meet Jill, Steph and Kathy in and I wandered over to the Premier Inn to check in.

Amanda commented on my Facebook to say she’d be in Blue Check at 5 so I headed back there. Met her for a chat in the beer garden with Gary, whom we told about our upcoming Reykjavik trip. Got a message from Crystal to say they were all in a bar called Sixty Six. I walked over there and it was a lovely, quiet little place.

Jill, Steph and Kathy were all there with Jules and Crystal. Steph sprung up to meet me at the bar and bought me a cider and a packet of nuts. I joined the gang at their table. Steph told me about the travails of Leicester City’s men’s and women’s teams and she, Jules and I talked about sporting crushes. Talk turned to the Lionesses, and Jill and Steph dropped a most welcome surprise - they’re coming to Reykjavik.

We went on to the stadium, where our seats were separated so we agreed to meet in Boxpark after the game, since Rachel was going there, and said farewells with hugs. I was in a section in the middle tier with padded seats, with a great central view overlooking the pitch.

England got off to a dream start when Alessia Russo, on the ground, provided a wicked ball for Lauren Hemp to just bundle over the line, and the goal line technology showed the whole of the ball had gone over before it was cleared. Goal.

Both sides were well matched from there on. Esme Morgan and Lotte Wubben-Moy were fantastic in central defence. Hannah Hampton came to the rescue more than once with some fine saves, topped off with an incredible one in time added on to preserve the win for England.

I walked over to Boxpark where Rachel and Leanne were. Got a quick drink with them. Jules and the posse arrived, and we got a round of drinks in and found a quiet spot. When the men’s results came in Steph and I weren’t best pleased that Ipswich had lost 2-0 at Portsmouth, denting the Tractor Boys’ promotion challenge and nudging Steph and Jill’s favourites Leicester closer to relegation to League One. So we turned our attention to the Lionesses’ triumph, with acclaim for Hemp, Hampton, Morgan and Wubben-Moy. Steph and I talked prospects for getting legless in Reykjavik. While Crystal was off talking to Rachel and a couple of other friends Jules talked to us about how everyone who meets Crystal loves her. No surprise as she is a lovely, warm and friendly lady. I confessed that I’ve loved her since France.

Just after 11 the Boxpark staff told us it was time to go. We followed Rachel down to The Parish Bar, where we’d gone last time, and settled down at a corner table for another round. Keira Walsh’s mum was also in there; Crystal pointed her out to me.

At chucking-out time we all said fond farewells outside the pub. Jill, Steph and I walked on together as their hotel was on the way to mine. Heading up the last stretch to the Premier Inn I reflected how the women’s football world really is my home. This month’s being an expensive one and my card’s taking a bit of a battering, but : time with friends? Priceless.

To the Smoke yesterday for Atlético London’s last home game of the season, against Royston Town. Still chaos on the trains round our way - from Fareham I had to change at Eastleigh for a London train. Called at the Greek food stall in Westfield for lunch.

Arrived at the ground just after 2. The girls were warming up on the pitch. Got a friendly hello from Rea, and Jo came over to touch hands. Gary was in the clubhouse. He said he won’t be in Reykjavik for the England game next month but he’ll be in Palma in June.

On my way to the stand I passed the guy from Royston who I’d talked to on the front table at the away game there a few weeks ago. Met Dave in the stand and he talked about his latest groundhopping stats. There were a few people behind me; when Julia came on as sub it became clear they were there for her. Neil was on announcement duty again; he was quite restrained during the first half.

Brooke and Rea came close with a couple of early chances for Atleti, but despite having the better of the game Atleti weren’t able to breach the visitors’ defence, and then Royston scored late in the half against the run of play. Rea was substituted towards the end of the half.

Five minutes after the break Amber launched a ball into the box and Brooke headed home the equaliser. On 65 minutes Brooke was brought down 30 yards out. She took the free kick and fired it straight into the goalmouth, where the keeper fumbled it over the line. Neil on the tannoy went full Italian “golazzo”.

Royston equalised from a long free kick of their own two minutes later. Alex in the Atleti goal, who’d clearly taken a knock - she’d been struggling to take kicks - was finally withdrawn with ten minutes to go with Sindi coming on.

During time added on Juliet launched the ball forward to Brooke, who wove her way through the Royston defence and buried it in the near corner to complete her hat-trick and put Atleti back in front.

Neil became over-excited after that, exhorting “blow your whistle, ref” over the tannoy a couple of times. Eventually full time was blown, and I joined our section in clapping the girls. I wished “all the best and see you next season” to the Royston front table man on my way past.

As I waited by the tunnel for the players to come off, a couple of the Royston people made their displeasure with Neil’s antics on the tannoy known. Rea and Alex were standing by the fence talking to a couple of our supporters. I said “well played” to Alex and asked Rea if she was OK, since her early substitution presumably meant she’d taken a knock; she said she was fine and thanked me for coming. Jo had a friendly farewell for me as always ❤️

As Dave and Gary won’t be at Wroxham next week they said their goodbyes to the girls for the season. I said “See you in Palma” to Gary and wished Dave a good summer.

Back at Waterloo I badly needed the loo. By the time I emerged I’d missed an Eastleigh train and had a 45 minute wait for one to Havant. Moseyed down to Popeye’s Chicken for a bite to eat and then on to Starbucks.

The train from Havant to Fareham was ten minutes late. Arrived home around 10.15 pm after 13 hours on the road.

Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Nottingham at the weekend for the Lionesses’ World Cup qualifier with Iceland. I messaged Kathy on the morning of the game, but she said they were snarled up in traffic and wouldn’t be getting to the ground much before kick-off. Messaged Rachel and Leanne; they were going to the Trent Bridge Inn, but by the time I arrived there (it was a half-hour walk from my hotel) the pub wasn’t letting any more people in before kick-off. I had to settle for a solo pint in the Brewhouse & Kitchen before drifting over to the ground. I messaged Rachel to ask if we could meet after the match and she said they’d be going to the Roebuck.

It was good to see Lucy Bronze and Lauren James back in the side and Esme Morgan starting. The Lionesses were always on top, and after they failed to convert a couple of speculative efforts, halfway through the first half Georgia Stanway fed Lauren James, who crossed perfectly for Lucy Bronze to head in at the back post. I jumped up and yelled “YES QUEEN!”

After the break Hannah Hampton made two super saves to deny Iceland from the only genuine chances they produced. On 78 minutes Georgia Stanway volleyed in a Lucy Bronze cross to make it 2-0 and it was plain sailing from there on.

The Roebuck was over on the other side of town from the ground but I managed to get a bus part of the way so was there before the others. I was into my first pint of Leffe when Leanne and all her friends arrived. We found a table upstairs and ordered food. Before too long Rachel came up to say hello to us. I asked her a bit about the game with Ukraine in Turkey last Tuesday that she and Leanne went to. She said things had got a bit scary when a military-looking plane had come flying alongside her passenger flight. Rachel headed back downstairs to join her crew and the rest of us waited for our food.

When we’d eaten we went down and joined Rachel and her pals around a couple of tables and I got steadily sozzled on Leffe. Rachel showed off her Turkish sunburn. I came back from the loo to find her teaching a couple of her pals some Brazilian Portuguese slang, since they’re all planning on going to the Women’s World Cup in Brazil next year. Then she went outside for a vape, I went to join her since I fancied some fresh air. As we stood outside we talked a bit about the rivalry between Brazil and Argentina - Rachel reckoned it started over whose steak was the best, and extended into football after. Then she said she’d had a photo of me with my old pal Jodie Taylor taken years ago pop up on her Facebook memories that day. She said she’s met the Arsenal Women manager Renee Siegers a couple of times and that Renee speaks very highly of Jodie, who’s now Arsenal’s Director of Women’s Football. That was nice to know.

Back inside for one more pint, then looked up my hotel on Google Maps. Thankfully it turned out to be just around the corner.

Up early Sunday morning to get the train, via Grantham and Stevenage, to Royston to see Atlético away. Made it to the ground soon after noon, before the turnstile opened, but the clubhouse was open so I was able to get a cherries and berries Old Mout and read the Non-League Paper until the turnstile man was in place to take my admission, and for his two colleagues get me to play the 50-50 draw and the football card. The football card man was a Leeds United fan who now lived in Stevenage, and travelled all over watching the women’s game. I said I’d come straight from Nottingham and we talked a bit about the Lionesses match.

Went to say hello to the Atlético coaches and video man in the dugout then waited by the tunnel for the players to appear. No Rea this week, but the lovely Jo was pleased to see me as usual.

Within 20 minutes Royston raced into a 2-0 lead. I sank into my seat thinking it was going to be one of those days. Jordan Feldman played a lovely pass through to Brooke Haylock behind the defence, and she rounded the goalie to pull one back for Atleti, but Royston restored their two-goal lead just before half-time.

There was a little coffee van in the corner of the ground adjacent to the stand. The van had a bit of a swaying motion, prompting a lady in front of me to ask the van man if he didn’t get seasick. I got a packet of gourmet crisps, an excellent sour cherry and oat cookie and a decaf mocha. He asked if I was one of their fans, I said I was an Atleti fan but praised his team’s performance so far.

Soon after the restart Julia Casinha found Brooke in front of goal and she tapped in at the back stick to give us hope.

Atleti were steaming now and kept surging forward. I got talking to a couple who turned out to be Brooke’s parents. I spotted the claret and blue scarf round the husband’s neck and asked him “West Ham, Aston Villa or Burnley?” He replied West Ham, which should have been no surprise as Atleti are an East London team. I said I travelled from near Portsmouth to watch Atlético regularly and the husband asked “Are you feeling all right?” I explained that I’m simply a women’s football fanatic. They didn’t bother asking me why I didn’t support a club closer to my home, though you could see they were thinking it. The fact is, when you fall in love with a club, sometimes geography has nothing to do with it. They did accept my explanation that I used to live in East London and have a sentimental attachment to the place.

Jada McGibbon went coursing from her own half right up the field and played a perfect pass to Brooke, who completed get hat-trick and drew Atleti level. Deep in injury time Royston threatened from a couple of corners but the amazing Nina Muller in Atlético’s goal made two super saves to preserve a point.

I went round to the dug-out to congratulate the girls on their fightback. Jo came over, high-fived me and said “We’ll do them at our place” (the return match is in three weeks).

Mad dash to the station to make the direct London train.