![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Is That It?
Mar. 23rd, 2014 08:47 pmTo Wembley to see Gosport Borough play Cambridge United in the FA Trophy Final. Arrived at Wembley Central just after one, made the long walk along Wembley high street - stopping off at Bagel & Shake for a bagel, of course - and rolled up within sight of the stadium just before the 1.30 doors opening time. Phoned Aussie to let him know I was there, only to learn that he and Carol were already inside and just about to go into their box.
Sat down on a bench to eat my bagel and have a quick thumb through the Non-League Paper. The latter task proved a tad tricky as, over the course of the few minutes I was sat there, a strong wind managed to blow, in turn, in every direction on the compass.
Tried phoning Hardcore Sue a couple of times but got no reply, so walked up the long labyrinthine ramp leading to the hallowed ground. A Cambridge fan spotted my Luton Town jacket and said loudly "LUTON?" Thankfully he accepted my reply "I'm a Luton fan from Gosport" without malice. After fun and games with the ticket reader, passed through the turnstiles. In the Gents I met John, one of the guys I used to go to cricket with.
Hardcore Sue texted to say she was in a noisy pub and couldn't answer her phone. We texted each other to say which sections we were sitting in and I waited for her outside her section. Sue, her boyfriend and his son showed up at 2.30 and Sue fell on me with a hug and a kiss. While the other two passed straight into the ground Sue took a selfie of her and me with the pitch behind us.
On my way in to my own seat I met Mike, from my old workplace.
I had a pretty good view of the pitch, in the 14th row up, about level with the edge of the penalty box that Gosport defended in the first half. The section I was in was fairly quiet, most of the singers were behind the goal, although a group of well oiled guys just along from me did their best to get a few songs going.
On the field Gosport, in truth, created few chances, just hitting a couple of tame shots at the keeper and blasting one over the bar. They defended soundly until, with half an hour gone, a Cambridge player hit a speculative looper that arced into the top corner. Gosport's centre-back and a lot of fans protested that a player had been offside but the goal was given.
Cambridge made it two with a close-range shot five minutes after the break. The game went flat from there on and the main event of interest in our section came when two stewards piled into the row in front of mine and confiscated several part-drunk bottles of Carlsberg from the boisterous guys. Just after the stewards had gone, one of the men took out another bottle of Carlsberg and began dancing around, swigging from it and waving it about in triumph. Needless to say the stewards were straight back in and confiscated that one too.
Cambridge got a third and all Gosport could muster was a pea-roller straight to the goalie. Then Cambridge were given a penalty, with a Gosport defender booked, for reasons none of us could fathom and converted. 4-0. My home town's "day to remember" was petering out in anticlimax, despite the efforts of a guy at the front of my section to start a chant of "We're gonna win 5-4". Indeed, people all around me started leaving from the 80 minute mark, though more, me included, stayed to see the team receive their losers' medals than left early.
I spotted Sue on the way out and ran over to her. We had another hug and kiss and said our goodbyes, then straight away she got collared by a local news reporter to say a few words.
Back at the station I had to wait for my train home with a load of Cambridge fans. At least none of them remarked on my Luton jacket. The train journey home was lightened by a couple of people messaging me on Facebook. After getting the taxi home from Leighton station I moseyed straight down to the Heath Inn for a wind-down pint of Stowford Press.
Sat down on a bench to eat my bagel and have a quick thumb through the Non-League Paper. The latter task proved a tad tricky as, over the course of the few minutes I was sat there, a strong wind managed to blow, in turn, in every direction on the compass.
Tried phoning Hardcore Sue a couple of times but got no reply, so walked up the long labyrinthine ramp leading to the hallowed ground. A Cambridge fan spotted my Luton Town jacket and said loudly "LUTON?" Thankfully he accepted my reply "I'm a Luton fan from Gosport" without malice. After fun and games with the ticket reader, passed through the turnstiles. In the Gents I met John, one of the guys I used to go to cricket with.
Hardcore Sue texted to say she was in a noisy pub and couldn't answer her phone. We texted each other to say which sections we were sitting in and I waited for her outside her section. Sue, her boyfriend and his son showed up at 2.30 and Sue fell on me with a hug and a kiss. While the other two passed straight into the ground Sue took a selfie of her and me with the pitch behind us.
On my way in to my own seat I met Mike, from my old workplace.
I had a pretty good view of the pitch, in the 14th row up, about level with the edge of the penalty box that Gosport defended in the first half. The section I was in was fairly quiet, most of the singers were behind the goal, although a group of well oiled guys just along from me did their best to get a few songs going.
On the field Gosport, in truth, created few chances, just hitting a couple of tame shots at the keeper and blasting one over the bar. They defended soundly until, with half an hour gone, a Cambridge player hit a speculative looper that arced into the top corner. Gosport's centre-back and a lot of fans protested that a player had been offside but the goal was given.
Cambridge made it two with a close-range shot five minutes after the break. The game went flat from there on and the main event of interest in our section came when two stewards piled into the row in front of mine and confiscated several part-drunk bottles of Carlsberg from the boisterous guys. Just after the stewards had gone, one of the men took out another bottle of Carlsberg and began dancing around, swigging from it and waving it about in triumph. Needless to say the stewards were straight back in and confiscated that one too.
Cambridge got a third and all Gosport could muster was a pea-roller straight to the goalie. Then Cambridge were given a penalty, with a Gosport defender booked, for reasons none of us could fathom and converted. 4-0. My home town's "day to remember" was petering out in anticlimax, despite the efforts of a guy at the front of my section to start a chant of "We're gonna win 5-4". Indeed, people all around me started leaving from the 80 minute mark, though more, me included, stayed to see the team receive their losers' medals than left early.
I spotted Sue on the way out and ran over to her. We had another hug and kiss and said our goodbyes, then straight away she got collared by a local news reporter to say a few words.
Back at the station I had to wait for my train home with a load of Cambridge fans. At least none of them remarked on my Luton jacket. The train journey home was lightened by a couple of people messaging me on Facebook. After getting the taxi home from Leighton station I moseyed straight down to the Heath Inn for a wind-down pint of Stowford Press.
