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In The City
Mar. 15th, 2014 09:55 pmTo London to meet up with Rob at Clapton v Bowers & Pitsea. I made it to Forest Gate soon after noon, plenty of time to spare, so after my now traditional lunch at the Nur Turkish restaurant I moseyed a little way along the Romford Road to check out my old haunts from my final year at Uni, 1991/92. Alas, the Princess Alice pub, where I first experienced the delights of a video jukebox, is gone; there's now a restaurant called the Palm Tree there. Further down, towards the street where I lived, the newsagent I used is still there but the Chinese take-away is gone, now a money exchange business.
I turned into Shrewsbury Road and crunched up to number 40, looking for the first time in almost 22 years at the house where I once lived. The front door was changed - it was dark wood in 1992, now it's white plastic and glass. There was nobody around so after a couple of minutes I turned back, not really sure what I'd been looking for, none the wiser as to whether my old landlady or any of her relations were living there now. The Sun pub is still there; I considered going in for a pint for auld lang syne but decided I'd better head to the Clapton ground to avoid the risk of being late for Rob.
As it was, the Old Spotted Dog was shut, except to players who were arriving one at a time and being let in. At 1.55, walking back down Upton Lane in the hope of intercepting Rob en route, I got a text from him saying he was on his way (had been delayed as he'd got to his local station then had to turn back home as he'd forgotten his Travelcard). Seeing a Spoons across the road, I texted back saying to meet me there.
I'd been sipping a Brothers strawberry and pear cider a few minutes when Rob arrived. We shook hands - it was the first time we'd met in nearly three years - Rob bought a beer and we returned to my table. We chatted about football for a while, I produced my list of the 231 grounds I've done with date and result of the first game I saw on each of them. Rob was mightily impressed with the list and asked me about the stories behind some of them, and told me a few tales about grounds he'd seen games on.
Rob filled me in on what was happening with his family and some old friends from our Uni days as we walked up to the ground. Inside, we had a swift half in the clubhouse and a quick chat with the gent in a suit behind the bar - who turned out to be the club's controversial CEO, Vincent McBean. He was affable and friendly to us so I didn't tell Rob the fans are trying to wrest control of the club from him; I just let Rob, who, although a Chelsea fan, at heart shares my footy anorak tendencies, enjoy the pleasure of drinking at a grass-roots football club where the CEO pulls pints.
We made our way out to the pitch at 2.58 and took up a good clear vantage point. At kick off, with people still wandering up to pitchside, Rob said sotto voce to me "It'd be just like us now to end up surrounded by Bowers & Pitsea supporters." We didn't, but we were mightily impressed with the Clapton Ultras in the little enclosure opposite. Towards the end of the first half, Rob said to me "We've got to go over there for the second half." We did and the atmosphere was amazing. A hail of ticker tape greeted the kick-off. The Ultras sang non-stop, mostly Clapton songs and chants in honour of players, but also a couple of anti-fascist numbers. Most of them were easy to pick up so Rob and I joined in.
Bowers & Pitsea won 1-0 with a pearl of a goal that wouldn't have been out of place in the Football League. Rob and I headed to the clubhouse at full time to catch the day's results on the big screen and chat football some more. We left with Rob firmly sharing my affection for this very special club, and agreeing we'd see a game at Waltham Forest - keepers of the flame of Rob's childhood club Leyton Wingate - next season.
Back home for The Voice. Gutted Melissa's gone - she deserved to stay in IMO and I didn't think Georgia was anything special. But my sweet little Moonshine Sally survives :)
I turned into Shrewsbury Road and crunched up to number 40, looking for the first time in almost 22 years at the house where I once lived. The front door was changed - it was dark wood in 1992, now it's white plastic and glass. There was nobody around so after a couple of minutes I turned back, not really sure what I'd been looking for, none the wiser as to whether my old landlady or any of her relations were living there now. The Sun pub is still there; I considered going in for a pint for auld lang syne but decided I'd better head to the Clapton ground to avoid the risk of being late for Rob.
As it was, the Old Spotted Dog was shut, except to players who were arriving one at a time and being let in. At 1.55, walking back down Upton Lane in the hope of intercepting Rob en route, I got a text from him saying he was on his way (had been delayed as he'd got to his local station then had to turn back home as he'd forgotten his Travelcard). Seeing a Spoons across the road, I texted back saying to meet me there.
I'd been sipping a Brothers strawberry and pear cider a few minutes when Rob arrived. We shook hands - it was the first time we'd met in nearly three years - Rob bought a beer and we returned to my table. We chatted about football for a while, I produced my list of the 231 grounds I've done with date and result of the first game I saw on each of them. Rob was mightily impressed with the list and asked me about the stories behind some of them, and told me a few tales about grounds he'd seen games on.
Rob filled me in on what was happening with his family and some old friends from our Uni days as we walked up to the ground. Inside, we had a swift half in the clubhouse and a quick chat with the gent in a suit behind the bar - who turned out to be the club's controversial CEO, Vincent McBean. He was affable and friendly to us so I didn't tell Rob the fans are trying to wrest control of the club from him; I just let Rob, who, although a Chelsea fan, at heart shares my footy anorak tendencies, enjoy the pleasure of drinking at a grass-roots football club where the CEO pulls pints.
We made our way out to the pitch at 2.58 and took up a good clear vantage point. At kick off, with people still wandering up to pitchside, Rob said sotto voce to me "It'd be just like us now to end up surrounded by Bowers & Pitsea supporters." We didn't, but we were mightily impressed with the Clapton Ultras in the little enclosure opposite. Towards the end of the first half, Rob said to me "We've got to go over there for the second half." We did and the atmosphere was amazing. A hail of ticker tape greeted the kick-off. The Ultras sang non-stop, mostly Clapton songs and chants in honour of players, but also a couple of anti-fascist numbers. Most of them were easy to pick up so Rob and I joined in.
Bowers & Pitsea won 1-0 with a pearl of a goal that wouldn't have been out of place in the Football League. Rob and I headed to the clubhouse at full time to catch the day's results on the big screen and chat football some more. We left with Rob firmly sharing my affection for this very special club, and agreeing we'd see a game at Waltham Forest - keepers of the flame of Rob's childhood club Leyton Wingate - next season.
Back home for The Voice. Gutted Melissa's gone - she deserved to stay in IMO and I didn't think Georgia was anything special. But my sweet little Moonshine Sally survives :)
