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Nov. 8th, 2010 08:10 pm
Saturday was the match everyone at Havant & Waterlooville had been buzzing about for a fortnight, the club's biggest game since Liverpool, the FA Cup First Round tie with Droylsden. Met Lee on the train from Portsmouth to Havant, we talked about the game and our hopes of another epic cup run, and reminisced about cup exploits past as we walked along to Westleigh.
Steph served me in the clubhouse, though of course she didn't have time to chat as the bar was packed. Chat with Malc and family and Alan over a Kopparberg, with the obligatory visit from the programme-selling lovely. That turned out to be the highlight of the afternoon.
Hawks played OK in the first half but nothing special. After the break they simply didn't turn up and had no reply to Droylsden who deservedly scored twice. An utterly dismal, anti-climactic way for the cup run to end. After the match I had to hang around in the clubhouse as I was getting a lift with Trev at six down to Newquay for the girls' game yesterday. For a while I stood by the door watching Derby v Portsmouth on the big screen, cheering on the Rams. Lots of Droylsden fans, as they walked by me on their way out, extended their hands to me and we exchanged handshakes and "All the best's". That shining example of the non-league brotherhood, and Derby taking the lead, momentarily lifted my gloom.
Much to Trev's chagrin, we had to stand around in the chilly car park for half an hour as Leon and Pete rolled up late. Trev immediately accused Leon of sitting at home watching the first half of the Portsmouth game but Leon reckoned he'd been held up by business stuff.
Most of the drive down was taken up by Trev and Leon discussing football matters, though we did manage the odd bit of banter. Twenty miles out of Newquay Trev asked me if I fancied going for a curry. As I had the impression the others were pretty tired like me and that we'd all just want to maybe have a relaxing drink in the bar and then crash out, I thought Trev was joking and didn't think any more about it.
So when we all arrived at the hotel, I unpacked my clobber, sat down for a few minutes reading the programme from the afternoon's game, then moseyed on down to the bar. There was an old folks' Christmas party on, but no familiar faces. So I returned to my room, watched a spot of telly and crashed out.
I learned from Dick at breakfast next morning that the rest of our party - Trev, Leon, Pete, Dick, Stacie, Nicky and Alex - had indeed all gone for a curry about ten minutes after our arrival. (The rest of the ladies had travelled down on Friday and made their own arrangements at a different hotel.) It turned out Trev had agreed the curry with Leon and Pete in the car while I was having a spot of shut-eye and that his question to me had been dead serious. They'd waited ten minutes for me to emerge from my room then concluded I wouldn't be coming. My explanation that I'd thought Trev was joking got the reply "I never, ever joke about curry." Then when they returned they joined in dancing and drinking with the old folks' Christmas party - by which time I'd turned in. Dick said I hadn't missed much as the food had been expensive and not that good and the restaurant had had all the atmosphere of a mortuary.
Watched X Factor on my room telly till it was time to assemble in the foyer to drive to the ground. The Newquay people were perfectly friendly, but, alas, the clubhouse was shut. The Newquay coach explained that they'd stopped opening on Sunday lunch times as they didn't get enough trade. Becky and I weren't pleased as we'd been hoping for a Cornish Rattler. The tea hut was officially closed due to lack of stock, though the guy did let us pop in and buy anything they did have as long as we had the right money. Otherwise, all we could do was just hang around waiting for kick off. I bunged Treyc a few votes on my mobile to pass the time.
The girls did us proud. Despite the ref being a bigger homer than the writer of the Odyssey, sublime strikes from Charley and Lizzie gave us a 2-1 win. And the clubhouse opened afterwards. Laura was a bit radged off, as she'd driven a carload of her team-mates all that way just to be an unused sub, and Yzzy wasn't too chuffed with her beloved Arsenal losing to the Geordies, but the rest were in decent spirits. Becky was at the bar when I approached, and broke the news to me that they no longer sold Cornish Rattler. They didn't even have real ale either. Had to make do with a Guinness Extra Cold.
Trev made good time going back. We took a few quick comfort breaks. In one garage the guys behind the counter spotted my Havant & Waterlooville shirt, asked me about the Liverpool game and enquired what we were doing in their neck of the woods. I explained we were coming back from the Ladies' match at Newquay and they asked if the girls were out on the forecourt with us. I said we were just the backroom boys and the girls were travelling separately; they were quite deflated that their shop wasn't about to be invaded by a horde of female footballers. Then we stopped for a McDonald's somewhere in Dorset and still arrived back in Havant at 7.45. As Pete said "The journey back's flown, hasn't it?" Trev dropped me at the station so I was home in good time to see...
Treyc's agonising eviction. Going to Cheryl second and not letting her vote last instead, basically forcing her to forfeit her vote, was an absolute disgrace and a total stitch-up by the producers designed to keep headline-maker Katie in - and generate publicity through controversy. So goodbye X Factor from me.
Being already gutted from the Hawks going out of the Cup, this added to the sense of anti-climactic gloom. Only the Ladies' win saved the weekend from being an utter washout.
Had booked today as holiday to rest after the journey. Spent it catching up with Harry Hill's TV Burp and TNA iMPACT! on Sky Plus, backing up my iTunes library and writing my report on the Ladies.
Got to go get an early night - back to the office tomorrow. What fun.
Steph served me in the clubhouse, though of course she didn't have time to chat as the bar was packed. Chat with Malc and family and Alan over a Kopparberg, with the obligatory visit from the programme-selling lovely. That turned out to be the highlight of the afternoon.
Hawks played OK in the first half but nothing special. After the break they simply didn't turn up and had no reply to Droylsden who deservedly scored twice. An utterly dismal, anti-climactic way for the cup run to end. After the match I had to hang around in the clubhouse as I was getting a lift with Trev at six down to Newquay for the girls' game yesterday. For a while I stood by the door watching Derby v Portsmouth on the big screen, cheering on the Rams. Lots of Droylsden fans, as they walked by me on their way out, extended their hands to me and we exchanged handshakes and "All the best's". That shining example of the non-league brotherhood, and Derby taking the lead, momentarily lifted my gloom.
Much to Trev's chagrin, we had to stand around in the chilly car park for half an hour as Leon and Pete rolled up late. Trev immediately accused Leon of sitting at home watching the first half of the Portsmouth game but Leon reckoned he'd been held up by business stuff.
Most of the drive down was taken up by Trev and Leon discussing football matters, though we did manage the odd bit of banter. Twenty miles out of Newquay Trev asked me if I fancied going for a curry. As I had the impression the others were pretty tired like me and that we'd all just want to maybe have a relaxing drink in the bar and then crash out, I thought Trev was joking and didn't think any more about it.
So when we all arrived at the hotel, I unpacked my clobber, sat down for a few minutes reading the programme from the afternoon's game, then moseyed on down to the bar. There was an old folks' Christmas party on, but no familiar faces. So I returned to my room, watched a spot of telly and crashed out.
I learned from Dick at breakfast next morning that the rest of our party - Trev, Leon, Pete, Dick, Stacie, Nicky and Alex - had indeed all gone for a curry about ten minutes after our arrival. (The rest of the ladies had travelled down on Friday and made their own arrangements at a different hotel.) It turned out Trev had agreed the curry with Leon and Pete in the car while I was having a spot of shut-eye and that his question to me had been dead serious. They'd waited ten minutes for me to emerge from my room then concluded I wouldn't be coming. My explanation that I'd thought Trev was joking got the reply "I never, ever joke about curry." Then when they returned they joined in dancing and drinking with the old folks' Christmas party - by which time I'd turned in. Dick said I hadn't missed much as the food had been expensive and not that good and the restaurant had had all the atmosphere of a mortuary.
Watched X Factor on my room telly till it was time to assemble in the foyer to drive to the ground. The Newquay people were perfectly friendly, but, alas, the clubhouse was shut. The Newquay coach explained that they'd stopped opening on Sunday lunch times as they didn't get enough trade. Becky and I weren't pleased as we'd been hoping for a Cornish Rattler. The tea hut was officially closed due to lack of stock, though the guy did let us pop in and buy anything they did have as long as we had the right money. Otherwise, all we could do was just hang around waiting for kick off. I bunged Treyc a few votes on my mobile to pass the time.
The girls did us proud. Despite the ref being a bigger homer than the writer of the Odyssey, sublime strikes from Charley and Lizzie gave us a 2-1 win. And the clubhouse opened afterwards. Laura was a bit radged off, as she'd driven a carload of her team-mates all that way just to be an unused sub, and Yzzy wasn't too chuffed with her beloved Arsenal losing to the Geordies, but the rest were in decent spirits. Becky was at the bar when I approached, and broke the news to me that they no longer sold Cornish Rattler. They didn't even have real ale either. Had to make do with a Guinness Extra Cold.
Trev made good time going back. We took a few quick comfort breaks. In one garage the guys behind the counter spotted my Havant & Waterlooville shirt, asked me about the Liverpool game and enquired what we were doing in their neck of the woods. I explained we were coming back from the Ladies' match at Newquay and they asked if the girls were out on the forecourt with us. I said we were just the backroom boys and the girls were travelling separately; they were quite deflated that their shop wasn't about to be invaded by a horde of female footballers. Then we stopped for a McDonald's somewhere in Dorset and still arrived back in Havant at 7.45. As Pete said "The journey back's flown, hasn't it?" Trev dropped me at the station so I was home in good time to see...
Treyc's agonising eviction. Going to Cheryl second and not letting her vote last instead, basically forcing her to forfeit her vote, was an absolute disgrace and a total stitch-up by the producers designed to keep headline-maker Katie in - and generate publicity through controversy. So goodbye X Factor from me.
Being already gutted from the Hawks going out of the Cup, this added to the sense of anti-climactic gloom. Only the Ladies' win saved the weekend from being an utter washout.
Had booked today as holiday to rest after the journey. Spent it catching up with Harry Hill's TV Burp and TNA iMPACT! on Sky Plus, backing up my iTunes library and writing my report on the Ladies.
Got to go get an early night - back to the office tomorrow. What fun.
