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Dec. 2nd, 2007 09:30 amTo Notts County yesterday for the 2nd Round FA Cup tie.
As we set off, someone shouted out about food and Aly exclaimed that she hadn't brought any today as she simply couldn't feed 120 people! I sat with Chas on the drive up and we passed the journey talking about footie and other sports. We stopped at Toddington services again - as someone observed when we pulled in, at around 11.30, this time the Burger King would be open! That was exactly where about two dozen of us headed. It was great to chow down on an Angus.
As we neared Nottingham it started to rain, but at least by the time we got off the coaches outside Meadow Lane, around 1.45, it was only spitting. After buying a programme and concealing it in my jacket I made my way across the Trent to the Nottingham Forest Sportsmen's Club, where Nigel, the other Hawk at my workplace, and a couple of others were playing pool. It was a nice set-up there, with a Christmas tree and decorations already up and the walls absolutely festooned with Forest memorabilia. A quick chat with Nigel and with the barman, then sat down with a Magners (though I was almost tempted by a Mansfield Smooth Creamy Ale) and watched some of Chelsea v West Ham till 2.30.
By the time I got into the away end at Meadow Lane (we had the lower section only; the upper section was roped off) there were only back row seats left. The ground is all-seater, but absolutely all the Hawks fans stood up for the whole game! We also made plenty of noise the whole time, while we didn't hear a cheep out of the Notts fans all game apart from one lone drummer.
On the pitch Hawks were having the better of the match but created few chances, until we came close with a shot from point blank range late in the second half. By now we were singing 'If you're proud to be a Hawk clap your hands' and looking forward to a replay back at Westleigh Park. Moments later Tony Taggart was through on goal and had a shot just before he was brought down; meanwhile the ball rolled towards the goal in slo-mo and eventually trickled over the line... Cue absolute pandemonium among the Hawks supporters.
The three minutes of regular time remaining were played out, a Notts corner came to nothing, then the fourth official signalled that there'd be 5 minutes of time added on. Cue mass shouts of disbelief and expletives from our end, but in truth there had been a long delay after 15 minutes of the half. There'd been a mass migration from the back rows into the staircase, and the woman and her daughter at the end of my row had moved downwards, so I took up a position a few rows further down - two rows behind Mark. Finally the whistle blew - WE'D WON!! Everyone went crazy again. Mark turned round and extended his hands to me, I high-fived him, but he insisted on my coming down a row for a hug.
Outside the ground there was no sign of our coaches. Loads of us sang 'Der-der-der-der-der-der, Tony Taggart' to the tune of Papa's Got A Brand New Pigbag while we waited, then some started making up chants based on a 'Where's our fucking coaches?' theme. The coaches finally showed up at 5.15 and we were homeward bound. I made straight for the on-coach loo - I try to avoid the Black Holes of Calcutta that are on-coach toilets if I can, but I was bloody desperate - causing mass amusement when I was still in there when my name was called during roll call.
Despite my having dumped my hat, gloves and programme on my seat before going to the loo, some git hopped in the seat while I was in the jacks. Thankfully he hadn't sat on my stuff, which Malcolm had moved to the last available seat, among the Mottershead family. Talked with them through the journey back, and also with the teenage lads in the rows in front of me who were Pompey season ticket holders but had forsaken the delights of Portsmouth v Everton to come and share in our glory day. They were now talking about coming to Hawk home matches regularly, and I persuaded them to come down to Bognor on Boxing Day, since as that's a 3pm kick-off they can be back in Portsmouth in time for Pompey v Arsenal at 7.45. Good to do my bit to win some converts...
Of course, the dominant topic of conversation was who people wanted in the third round. Some wanted an away trip to a giant, others fancied a home tie against a Championship or League 1 outfit (so we could play it at Westleigh Park). Needless to say nobody wanted Millwall!
Another stop at Toddington on the way back, and another Burger King for many of us! Gauging how near home we were after that was tricky, as from my aisle seat, in the dark and with the darkened windows I hardly ever got to make out the place names on the road signs. It was only when we entered Hindhead, with the lit-up Devil's Punch Bowl pub, that I knew for sure where we were.
Arrived at Westleigh just before 10 pm and made for the station. 14 minute wait for a train. On arrival at the Hard, popped into the Co-op to buy a Sports Mail. Was about to go and queue for the ferry when I noticed the football scores on the back of the Sports Mail didn't match the day's matches. A quick check of the front cover revealed it was last week's. So I had to run back to the Co-op, exchange it for this week's (thank goodness the assistant didn't make any fuss) and run down the approach ramp just in time to catch the boat.
Home during Match Of The Day, in time to see Tags' goal heading up the 2nd Round highlights :D
As we set off, someone shouted out about food and Aly exclaimed that she hadn't brought any today as she simply couldn't feed 120 people! I sat with Chas on the drive up and we passed the journey talking about footie and other sports. We stopped at Toddington services again - as someone observed when we pulled in, at around 11.30, this time the Burger King would be open! That was exactly where about two dozen of us headed. It was great to chow down on an Angus.
As we neared Nottingham it started to rain, but at least by the time we got off the coaches outside Meadow Lane, around 1.45, it was only spitting. After buying a programme and concealing it in my jacket I made my way across the Trent to the Nottingham Forest Sportsmen's Club, where Nigel, the other Hawk at my workplace, and a couple of others were playing pool. It was a nice set-up there, with a Christmas tree and decorations already up and the walls absolutely festooned with Forest memorabilia. A quick chat with Nigel and with the barman, then sat down with a Magners (though I was almost tempted by a Mansfield Smooth Creamy Ale) and watched some of Chelsea v West Ham till 2.30.
By the time I got into the away end at Meadow Lane (we had the lower section only; the upper section was roped off) there were only back row seats left. The ground is all-seater, but absolutely all the Hawks fans stood up for the whole game! We also made plenty of noise the whole time, while we didn't hear a cheep out of the Notts fans all game apart from one lone drummer.
On the pitch Hawks were having the better of the match but created few chances, until we came close with a shot from point blank range late in the second half. By now we were singing 'If you're proud to be a Hawk clap your hands' and looking forward to a replay back at Westleigh Park. Moments later Tony Taggart was through on goal and had a shot just before he was brought down; meanwhile the ball rolled towards the goal in slo-mo and eventually trickled over the line... Cue absolute pandemonium among the Hawks supporters.
The three minutes of regular time remaining were played out, a Notts corner came to nothing, then the fourth official signalled that there'd be 5 minutes of time added on. Cue mass shouts of disbelief and expletives from our end, but in truth there had been a long delay after 15 minutes of the half. There'd been a mass migration from the back rows into the staircase, and the woman and her daughter at the end of my row had moved downwards, so I took up a position a few rows further down - two rows behind Mark. Finally the whistle blew - WE'D WON!! Everyone went crazy again. Mark turned round and extended his hands to me, I high-fived him, but he insisted on my coming down a row for a hug.
Outside the ground there was no sign of our coaches. Loads of us sang 'Der-der-der-der-der-der, Tony Taggart' to the tune of Papa's Got A Brand New Pigbag while we waited, then some started making up chants based on a 'Where's our fucking coaches?' theme. The coaches finally showed up at 5.15 and we were homeward bound. I made straight for the on-coach loo - I try to avoid the Black Holes of Calcutta that are on-coach toilets if I can, but I was bloody desperate - causing mass amusement when I was still in there when my name was called during roll call.
Despite my having dumped my hat, gloves and programme on my seat before going to the loo, some git hopped in the seat while I was in the jacks. Thankfully he hadn't sat on my stuff, which Malcolm had moved to the last available seat, among the Mottershead family. Talked with them through the journey back, and also with the teenage lads in the rows in front of me who were Pompey season ticket holders but had forsaken the delights of Portsmouth v Everton to come and share in our glory day. They were now talking about coming to Hawk home matches regularly, and I persuaded them to come down to Bognor on Boxing Day, since as that's a 3pm kick-off they can be back in Portsmouth in time for Pompey v Arsenal at 7.45. Good to do my bit to win some converts...
Of course, the dominant topic of conversation was who people wanted in the third round. Some wanted an away trip to a giant, others fancied a home tie against a Championship or League 1 outfit (so we could play it at Westleigh Park). Needless to say nobody wanted Millwall!
Another stop at Toddington on the way back, and another Burger King for many of us! Gauging how near home we were after that was tricky, as from my aisle seat, in the dark and with the darkened windows I hardly ever got to make out the place names on the road signs. It was only when we entered Hindhead, with the lit-up Devil's Punch Bowl pub, that I knew for sure where we were.
Arrived at Westleigh just before 10 pm and made for the station. 14 minute wait for a train. On arrival at the Hard, popped into the Co-op to buy a Sports Mail. Was about to go and queue for the ferry when I noticed the football scores on the back of the Sports Mail didn't match the day's matches. A quick check of the front cover revealed it was last week's. So I had to run back to the Co-op, exchange it for this week's (thank goodness the assistant didn't make any fuss) and run down the approach ramp just in time to catch the boat.
Home during Match Of The Day, in time to see Tags' goal heading up the 2nd Round highlights :D
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