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Jun. 2nd, 2007 10:06 pmTo London for Harlequins RL v Wigan. Changing at Woking, met a couple more Quins fans on the train I joined, and also spotted the front of someone's Daily Star with the advert 'Free [Burger King] Dark Whopper for every reader'. As I got off at Clapham Junction, a Wigan fan spotted my Quins shirt and came over to say hello. He was from Blackburn originally but now lived in Poole, and we talked for a while about the trials of living in the rugby league desert that is the South Coast, then looked around for a board to tell us which platform the Twickenham train left from. When we got there the platform was absolutely chocker with Wigan fans. I tagged on to a small group of Quins supporters, who turned out to also be fans of Crystal Palace FC.
As we all filed off the train at Twickenham, I spotted an abandoned Daily Star on the platform. Remembering the Dark Whopper, I scooped it up, only to find it was only a 'buy one, get one free' offer. I kept the paper anyway, partly for reading material on the train home and also because when I'm Home Alone for a fortnight from next Wednesday, a couple of Dark Whoppers (without fries) will do me for a main meal one day. And it didn't cost me a penny.
At The Stoop, called at the East Stand bar for a pre-match drink. They didn't do Magners :( At least they had Greene King IPA. A group of three blokes, not wearing colours but each wearing a sticky label with a nickname on, who I guessed were already inebriated, pointed at me and exclaimed "It's a Harlequins supporter!" They'd seen Wigan's huge travelling support packing the bar out, but I was apparently the first home fan they spotted. They told me how they'd never been to an RL match before, so asked me what the differences were from rugby union - I told them as best I could. The most talkative one was a bit put out when I explained that I don't bother with union (they were actually union fans). When the conversation came round to football, the talkative guy said he was an Arsenal supporter. When I replied that I am a Havant & Waterlooville fan, he was faintly amused at first that I was a non-league fan, but then took me to task for not going to watch Portsmouth instead - "They're your local Premier League team!" The concept that H&W are my team, and therefore it is them that I want to watch, seemed beyond his comprehension, but he did sympathise with me when I added that I have no desire to pay £32 to sit on an open terrace. Indeed, he admitted that he can no longer afford to watch the Gunners so now goes to Enfield FC. So he wasn't one of those irritating anti-non-leaguers after all.
It was 20 minutes to kick-off now so I took my leave and made my way out into the stadium and round to the Lexus Stand (via the burger bar). Quarter Pounder and chips very tasty. I took my seat just as the 'Harlequin Hearts' cheerleaders were beginning their routine.
Wigan scored an early try, then had much the better of the next few minutes. I began to think we were in for a hammering, but Quins turned it around and by half-time we were 8-4 ahead, thanks to a magnificent performance from Paul Sykes. After the break Quins dominated and, though Wigan pulled a try back, we comfortably ran out 18-8 winners. The atmosphere was superb with plenty of singing, although I felt a bit sorry for the bloke in the horse suit, who spent much of the game waving his arms upwards trying to get our fans to make a noise, and got dead silence half the time. A couple of things I do like about RL are that you can sit in the stand and drink a can of beer while you watch the game (unthinkable at football), and that, as usual, there was never a hint of crowd trouble. The only thing at all unpleasant throughout the afternoon was just after the game, when a lone Wigan fan, walking along in front of the Quins support, flicked us a V.
Back to the East Stand bar after for a couple of pints and a chat with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
whalefish, though conversation was restricted by the covers band in the corner. At 5.30, with 13 minutes to catch my train, I said goodbye, then on getting outside remembered just how long a walk it is to the station. By jogging some of the way (not easy with several beers and a burger and chips swirling around your system), ignoring someone's facetious shout of 'No running, it's against health and safety regulations', and breaking into another jog (despite a stitch in my side) just before the station, I made it onto the train as it was standing at the platform.
On the train a family of Wigan supporters, bound for Waterloo to begin the long journey back north, were playing 'guess which celebrity I am'. One of the boys, under questioning, said he was an American female singer in her 30s who hadn't had a hit recently. After a few guesses, his mother asked "Are you Britney Spears?" He said he was. "She's only 25!" was his mum's reply, drawing just a shrug from him.
At Clapham Junction I made the mistake of glancing quickly at the screen, which billed a Fratton train at 18.08, and heading straight for that one. Over an hour later, as the train proceeded through the West Sussex countryside, I realised I'd taken the wrong train, the one that went the scenic route all round West Sussex, and that I should have caught the fast train to Havant at 18.12. Never mind, at least I saw some lovely views :) Just after the train divided at Barnham, a couple came storming through my carriage, making their presence known when the woman yelled "SHUT UP!" twice. They argued all the way down and stormed off out of the other end, presumably heading for the next carriage up. Some people thought perhaps they were in the wrong half of the train by mistake and wanted to go to Bognor. When we left Havant, though, we heard the noise of them arguing again. When everybody got off the train at Fratton they were still at it, apparently something about him going to Reading instead of staying in; she cut in and said something or other only for him to say she wasn't listening. It was tempting to stick around and wait near them for the Portsmouth Harbour train, but I had a feeling they already suspected me of earwigging, so I discreetly went and stood far away from them. When I glanced in their direction a few minutes later, they were play-punching each other and embracing.
Home just in time for 7 Ages Of Rock : Punk.
As we all filed off the train at Twickenham, I spotted an abandoned Daily Star on the platform. Remembering the Dark Whopper, I scooped it up, only to find it was only a 'buy one, get one free' offer. I kept the paper anyway, partly for reading material on the train home and also because when I'm Home Alone for a fortnight from next Wednesday, a couple of Dark Whoppers (without fries) will do me for a main meal one day. And it didn't cost me a penny.
At The Stoop, called at the East Stand bar for a pre-match drink. They didn't do Magners :( At least they had Greene King IPA. A group of three blokes, not wearing colours but each wearing a sticky label with a nickname on, who I guessed were already inebriated, pointed at me and exclaimed "It's a Harlequins supporter!" They'd seen Wigan's huge travelling support packing the bar out, but I was apparently the first home fan they spotted. They told me how they'd never been to an RL match before, so asked me what the differences were from rugby union - I told them as best I could. The most talkative one was a bit put out when I explained that I don't bother with union (they were actually union fans). When the conversation came round to football, the talkative guy said he was an Arsenal supporter. When I replied that I am a Havant & Waterlooville fan, he was faintly amused at first that I was a non-league fan, but then took me to task for not going to watch Portsmouth instead - "They're your local Premier League team!" The concept that H&W are my team, and therefore it is them that I want to watch, seemed beyond his comprehension, but he did sympathise with me when I added that I have no desire to pay £32 to sit on an open terrace. Indeed, he admitted that he can no longer afford to watch the Gunners so now goes to Enfield FC. So he wasn't one of those irritating anti-non-leaguers after all.
It was 20 minutes to kick-off now so I took my leave and made my way out into the stadium and round to the Lexus Stand (via the burger bar). Quarter Pounder and chips very tasty. I took my seat just as the 'Harlequin Hearts' cheerleaders were beginning their routine.
Wigan scored an early try, then had much the better of the next few minutes. I began to think we were in for a hammering, but Quins turned it around and by half-time we were 8-4 ahead, thanks to a magnificent performance from Paul Sykes. After the break Quins dominated and, though Wigan pulled a try back, we comfortably ran out 18-8 winners. The atmosphere was superb with plenty of singing, although I felt a bit sorry for the bloke in the horse suit, who spent much of the game waving his arms upwards trying to get our fans to make a noise, and got dead silence half the time. A couple of things I do like about RL are that you can sit in the stand and drink a can of beer while you watch the game (unthinkable at football), and that, as usual, there was never a hint of crowd trouble. The only thing at all unpleasant throughout the afternoon was just after the game, when a lone Wigan fan, walking along in front of the Quins support, flicked us a V.
Back to the East Stand bar after for a couple of pints and a chat with
whalefish, though conversation was restricted by the covers band in the corner. At 5.30, with 13 minutes to catch my train, I said goodbye, then on getting outside remembered just how long a walk it is to the station. By jogging some of the way (not easy with several beers and a burger and chips swirling around your system), ignoring someone's facetious shout of 'No running, it's against health and safety regulations', and breaking into another jog (despite a stitch in my side) just before the station, I made it onto the train as it was standing at the platform.On the train a family of Wigan supporters, bound for Waterloo to begin the long journey back north, were playing 'guess which celebrity I am'. One of the boys, under questioning, said he was an American female singer in her 30s who hadn't had a hit recently. After a few guesses, his mother asked "Are you Britney Spears?" He said he was. "She's only 25!" was his mum's reply, drawing just a shrug from him.
At Clapham Junction I made the mistake of glancing quickly at the screen, which billed a Fratton train at 18.08, and heading straight for that one. Over an hour later, as the train proceeded through the West Sussex countryside, I realised I'd taken the wrong train, the one that went the scenic route all round West Sussex, and that I should have caught the fast train to Havant at 18.12. Never mind, at least I saw some lovely views :) Just after the train divided at Barnham, a couple came storming through my carriage, making their presence known when the woman yelled "SHUT UP!" twice. They argued all the way down and stormed off out of the other end, presumably heading for the next carriage up. Some people thought perhaps they were in the wrong half of the train by mistake and wanted to go to Bognor. When we left Havant, though, we heard the noise of them arguing again. When everybody got off the train at Fratton they were still at it, apparently something about him going to Reading instead of staying in; she cut in and said something or other only for him to say she wasn't listening. It was tempting to stick around and wait near them for the Portsmouth Harbour train, but I had a feeling they already suspected me of earwigging, so I discreetly went and stood far away from them. When I glanced in their direction a few minutes later, they were play-punching each other and embracing.
Home just in time for 7 Ages Of Rock : Punk.
