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Teenage Lament '74
Jan. 7th, 2012 10:22 pmOn the train to London a chap sitting across the table from me noticed my Fisher shirt and asked me who we were playing today. Again, he remembered the days when the Fish were a notable team in non-league and was sobered when I told him where we are now. He was a Portsmouth fan, so knew all about owners who run clubs into the ground.
We were playing Canterbury City, but there was no repeat of our two League Cup humdingers against them. Canterbury had us on the back foot much of the time, and although we had our share of going forward we lacked firepower up front, poor old Peter Afolayan misfiring all game.
At half time a rumour went round the bar that the match might be abandoned because of floodlight failure, prompting groans all round. It turned out that on one of the corner pylons, only two of the six bulbs were working, but the ref deemed it adequate to play on.
With about ten minutes to go Canterbury hit us with two sucker punches in quick succession, and though Fisher surged upfield in search of a goal our forwards still lacked the crucial touch in the box. We in the Shed Choir, who'd kept up a constant barrage of singing throughout - drawing an observation from an elderly supporter that we were louder now than the Conference-era fans had been - launched into a couple of chants calling for the lights to be switched off.
Sat in the clubhouse for a while watching the FA Cup results on Sky Sports News, then bus to Victoria for a Subway sub and the long journey home.
We were playing Canterbury City, but there was no repeat of our two League Cup humdingers against them. Canterbury had us on the back foot much of the time, and although we had our share of going forward we lacked firepower up front, poor old Peter Afolayan misfiring all game.
At half time a rumour went round the bar that the match might be abandoned because of floodlight failure, prompting groans all round. It turned out that on one of the corner pylons, only two of the six bulbs were working, but the ref deemed it adequate to play on.
With about ten minutes to go Canterbury hit us with two sucker punches in quick succession, and though Fisher surged upfield in search of a goal our forwards still lacked the crucial touch in the box. We in the Shed Choir, who'd kept up a constant barrage of singing throughout - drawing an observation from an elderly supporter that we were louder now than the Conference-era fans had been - launched into a couple of chants calling for the lights to be switched off.
Sat in the clubhouse for a while watching the FA Cup results on Sky Sports News, then bus to Victoria for a Subway sub and the long journey home.
