eiffel_71 | (no subject)

Just got back from the Hawk girls' Portsmouth Cup Final with Portsmouth University.

Went over to Portsmouth a bit early to pop into the library for a chat with Ann before getting the bus over to Moneyfields. Talked with Becky and Rita in the bar over a Bombardier till suddenly it was almost kick-off time - cue to head into the ground. Saw lovely Michelle just before kick-off - she wasn't playing for the Uni tonight but was in her track suit.

Alas, the Hawk girls were, to put it bluntly, shite. Poor defending let the Uni score with a lob on the quarter hour. Lovely Michelle had come and sat next to me a few minutes earlier, but the moment the goal went in she said sorry and disappeared. I guess she wanted to go and celebrate with her own people.

With the end of the first half near, I went down to the tea hut and asked if they sold bacon rolls. One of the ladies serving said she could make me one, bless her, though it meant about a 10 minute wait for the bacon to be cooked. As she put my bacon on the fryer she said to her colleague "We'd best put some more bacon out, when they smell it people'll want some." Sure enough, when my bacon butty was served two guys in the queue decided they'd have one each.

Meanwhile, while I waited for my butty I carried on watching the game : at one point I shouted "C'mon the Hawks!" A couple of girls in Moneyfields tracksuits replied by shouting for the Uni; their friend, to wind them up, called out "Come on Havant!" The other two shushed her, I said "Cheers babe" and gave her a thumbs up, much to her delight. Sadly, the very next second I looked back up at the pitch just in time to see the ball sailing into our net.

The Hawk girls revived a little after the break and pulled one back, admittedly through an own goal, but couldn't get the equaliser. I wandered down to pitch side, where Jo was saying to a couple of her friends "I don't want to talk about it. Ever." I hung around to watch the Hawk girls get their losers' medals and see the cup (actually a couple of shields) presented. I'd been keeping my programme, a single A4 sheet folded, pristine all game, but after being held under my arm while I clapped the teams during the presentation it was completely fucking mangled. Typical of the whole evening.

I'd booked my taxi for 10.30 in case there was extra time and penalties, so was left with 40 minutes sitting in the clubhouse. Sat drinking a Bombardier with some of the girls as they picked the bones of the defeat; they left one by one till there were just three left for my last quarter-hour or so. Was hoping I might at least get a kiss from lovely Michelle, but when she went she just walked past my table and said goodbye without breaking stride.

A night to forget.