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Apr. 19th, 2008 11:00 pmHawks v Maidenhead in pouring rain this afternoon. The mood in the clubhouse before the match was subdued - for all Galey's and Simon's talk in the programme about there being "a lot of twists and turns yet", everyone accepted that the chance had now gone. I sat at Angie's table, where the bloke next to me, a stranger, expounded his opinion as to where we'd gone wrong. In his view, we should have played Tom Jordan when Neil Sharp was injured. He pointed out, rightly, that despite E*******h succeeding in unsettling Tom to the point where he no longer wanted to be with us, when called on to play, notably in the Swansea replay, Tom had been magnificent. Good point.
Hawks were utterly dreadful all game, never looked like scoring and lost 3-0. A small group of Maidenhead fans behind the goal kept up a barrage of singing throughout - plenty of chants about us being quiet (which was fair enough) plus a rendition of "Where's your six thousand?" Oh, how witty and original. At the final whistle, their little group went berserk, as the win meant they were safe from relegation. The same guys were walking along about 100 yards in front of me on the way back to the station, bellowing "We are staying up" as they swaggered along the street. They were standing on the platform when I arrived on the station - and greeted my appearance with a huge ironic cheer.
Reaching the play-offs is now impossible barring a ridiculous combination of results that is simply not going to happen.
To the Seagull in Portchester in the evening for Uncle Ron's 65th birthday. We had the function room, but each ordered our meals individually from the bar as normal. It was musical chairs time for me ma and me, as one or other of us got asked to move FOUR times to make way for someone or other to sit next to someone or other. Then when I'd got settled down at the end of the table (but before ordering any food) my mother spotted a spare seat opposite my cousin Samantha and said to me "Why don't you go and sit there?" I was about to shoot her a withering glare when I realised that the empty seat was indeed opposite Sam; as she and I get on well I did indeed move there.
It was a Greene King pub, so IPA was on tap. Also tried a pint of an ale called Old Trip - not bad. Passed most of the evening catching up with Sam and her boyfriend Mike; when I said I might be in Birmingham in June, depending on whether the Hawk girls reach the national final of the Footiechick Fives, and enquired about popping down to Malvern to see them if that were the case, she offered to put me up for the two nights. Also got to chat to my cousin Neil and my cousin Annie's husband Dean about footie. When I said hello to her and Dean, Annie asked me "How did they get on?"
"We lost 3-0."
"Who were they playing?"
"Maidenhead."
"How the chuff did they lose 3-0 to Maidenhead?" And I never knew Annie knew anything about non-league.
Hawks were utterly dreadful all game, never looked like scoring and lost 3-0. A small group of Maidenhead fans behind the goal kept up a barrage of singing throughout - plenty of chants about us being quiet (which was fair enough) plus a rendition of "Where's your six thousand?" Oh, how witty and original. At the final whistle, their little group went berserk, as the win meant they were safe from relegation. The same guys were walking along about 100 yards in front of me on the way back to the station, bellowing "We are staying up" as they swaggered along the street. They were standing on the platform when I arrived on the station - and greeted my appearance with a huge ironic cheer.
Reaching the play-offs is now impossible barring a ridiculous combination of results that is simply not going to happen.
To the Seagull in Portchester in the evening for Uncle Ron's 65th birthday. We had the function room, but each ordered our meals individually from the bar as normal. It was musical chairs time for me ma and me, as one or other of us got asked to move FOUR times to make way for someone or other to sit next to someone or other. Then when I'd got settled down at the end of the table (but before ordering any food) my mother spotted a spare seat opposite my cousin Samantha and said to me "Why don't you go and sit there?" I was about to shoot her a withering glare when I realised that the empty seat was indeed opposite Sam; as she and I get on well I did indeed move there.
It was a Greene King pub, so IPA was on tap. Also tried a pint of an ale called Old Trip - not bad. Passed most of the evening catching up with Sam and her boyfriend Mike; when I said I might be in Birmingham in June, depending on whether the Hawk girls reach the national final of the Footiechick Fives, and enquired about popping down to Malvern to see them if that were the case, she offered to put me up for the two nights. Also got to chat to my cousin Neil and my cousin Annie's husband Dean about footie. When I said hello to her and Dean, Annie asked me "How did they get on?"
"We lost 3-0."
"Who were they playing?"
"Maidenhead."
"How the chuff did they lose 3-0 to Maidenhead?" And I never knew Annie knew anything about non-league.
