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Saturday night went to my social club’s annual dinner. Didn’t know most of the people at my table but they were a pleasant enough bunch. Saw Mel from my old workplace, we got to chatting and she asked if anyone from there had got in touch to sound me out about returning. I confirmed that Bev had but that I’d had to stay in my current job owing to family ties, she understood but we agreed that it would have been lovely if I’d been able to return. That stirred up all the old emotion I’d gone through back in April, and that whirled around my head for much of the evening.
At least the band were good, playing mostly 60s standards. And I raked it on the raffle, winning three bottles of wine (one of them mulled, so that’s next Christmas sorted) and a fruit squeezer. Towards the end of the night the band played Sweet Caroline. Naturally I joined in and yelled “So good!” (x3) at the appropriate points. Everyone at Mel’s table was also joining in and fist pumping, so at the end of the song I moseyed over there and said to Mel “That takes me right back to Wembley last July.”
“Were you there? At the final?” she asked.
“Oh yes.”
“That must have been amazing. How did you get tickets?”
“I’m in the Lionesses Supporters Club.” Mel was well impressed with that.
Yesterday I intended to see a women’s match. No such luck, but not for want of trying. My original choice, AFC Portchester Ladies v Bournemouth Sports, fell victim to a frozen pitch mid-morning. So I looked at Southampton Sirens as they were due to play at home, but their Twitter revealed that the game had been switched to Redbridge Community School. A crap venue for spectators, but it does have a 3G, so their deciding to play there was understandable. With the change of venue, they were playing behind closed doors.
One option left. Brighton & Hove Albion Women v Arsenal Women at Crawley, an evening kick-off. I booked a room at the Crawley Travelodge and set off for the station.
The first part of the journey, to Barnham, was by replacement bus, meaning that leg lasted an hour and a half. On the train from Barnham I kept an eye on Twitter as Brighton posted that there was a pitch inspection due at 2.30. From then on it was radio silence from Brighton while a few home fans wondering if they should travel, and several Arsenal fans who were already on their way down, tweeted Brighton imploring them to update us on whether the match was on or off. Finally, around 4.20 - as my train was sitting in Billingshurst station, just too late for me to get off - came a tweet from Brighton saying the game was off due to a frozen pitch.
I told the guard I needed to turn back and return to Portsmouth, and asked if I should change at the next station Christ’s Hospital or if one further along would be better. He advised me to change at Horsham. So I left the train at Horsham and, as I was Hank Marvin by now, crossed the road from the station to the Beefeater, where a gourmet burger went down very well.
The train back arrived at Barnham just in time to miss a replacement bus to Portsmouth. So I spent half an hour sheltering from the cold in the little side entrance arch to Barnham station, watching the world go by.
At least the band were good, playing mostly 60s standards. And I raked it on the raffle, winning three bottles of wine (one of them mulled, so that’s next Christmas sorted) and a fruit squeezer. Towards the end of the night the band played Sweet Caroline. Naturally I joined in and yelled “So good!” (x3) at the appropriate points. Everyone at Mel’s table was also joining in and fist pumping, so at the end of the song I moseyed over there and said to Mel “That takes me right back to Wembley last July.”
“Were you there? At the final?” she asked.
“Oh yes.”
“That must have been amazing. How did you get tickets?”
“I’m in the Lionesses Supporters Club.” Mel was well impressed with that.
Yesterday I intended to see a women’s match. No such luck, but not for want of trying. My original choice, AFC Portchester Ladies v Bournemouth Sports, fell victim to a frozen pitch mid-morning. So I looked at Southampton Sirens as they were due to play at home, but their Twitter revealed that the game had been switched to Redbridge Community School. A crap venue for spectators, but it does have a 3G, so their deciding to play there was understandable. With the change of venue, they were playing behind closed doors.
One option left. Brighton & Hove Albion Women v Arsenal Women at Crawley, an evening kick-off. I booked a room at the Crawley Travelodge and set off for the station.
The first part of the journey, to Barnham, was by replacement bus, meaning that leg lasted an hour and a half. On the train from Barnham I kept an eye on Twitter as Brighton posted that there was a pitch inspection due at 2.30. From then on it was radio silence from Brighton while a few home fans wondering if they should travel, and several Arsenal fans who were already on their way down, tweeted Brighton imploring them to update us on whether the match was on or off. Finally, around 4.20 - as my train was sitting in Billingshurst station, just too late for me to get off - came a tweet from Brighton saying the game was off due to a frozen pitch.
I told the guard I needed to turn back and return to Portsmouth, and asked if I should change at the next station Christ’s Hospital or if one further along would be better. He advised me to change at Horsham. So I left the train at Horsham and, as I was Hank Marvin by now, crossed the road from the station to the Beefeater, where a gourmet burger went down very well.
The train back arrived at Barnham just in time to miss a replacement bus to Portsmouth. So I spent half an hour sheltering from the cold in the little side entrance arch to Barnham station, watching the world go by.
