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Bristol Stomp
Mar. 16th, 2023 09:06 pmSaturday went to Gosport Borough v Salisbury. Saw an eventful 0-0 draw with both teams having chances and a touch of needle in the play. Then heard that Moneyfields had come back from two down to win 3-2 at AFC Portchester, ending the Royals’ unbeaten home league streak. I was pleased for the Moneys lads, but gutted that I hadn't headed for the Wicor and seen that cracker.
Bright and early start on Sunday to catch the train to Keynsham to see Moneyfields Women. Three changes of train, at Guildford, Reading and Bath Spa. Thankfully all the trains arrived on time. On the road going towards the ground, reached the Crown Inn and popped in for a Sunday roast (went for turkey, very good) and a cloudy lemon cider.
Paid my £5 entry (programme inclusive) to the friendly lady behind a table at the entrance gate. Met Graham and Karl at pitchside. They asked how I’d got there, and after hearing about my train journey offered me a lift home on the team minibus.
Graham and I headed for the bar, staffed by another friendly lady. I went for a local blackberry cider. On the big screen was a rugby match, Gloucester v Leicester. The barmaid lamented that they weren’t subscribed to any of the channels showing football. I advised her to switch over to BBC1 for the preamble to the Scotland v Ireland rugby match once that started - she agreed.
I sat in the stand with Graham, Naomi the kit lady, her daughter and Moneyfields juniors player Phoebe, and Lucy, wife of our player Charley (I’ve known Charley over 15 years). We saw a humdinger! Twice Keynsham took the lead, twice Gemma Simmonds struck home a well taken equaliser, then late in the game our 16-year-old first-team debutante Freya Farrow played a beautiful forward diagonal ball for our Hawaiian striker Kau’inohea Taylor to round the keeper and roll home to give us the win.
Early in the game, to my relief I learned from Naomi and Lucy that Kau’inohea answers to the nickname Katie.
It was Phoebe’s birthday. In the clubhouse after the match, the girls presented her with a Cuthbert the Caterpillar cake and we all sang Happy Birthday To You. Sausages and chips were laid on for our party. We drank and watched the rugby for a while until Graham mustered us all to head for the minibus.
Karl and the girls had top banter on the drive home. Plans were made for the St Austell trip on the last day of the season; on the Saturday evening they’ll be going for a meal out and to watch the Tyson Fury fight. I said I already had my hotel booked. There was very exciting news about a possible pre-season friendly this summer which I can’t disclose, but if it happens I’m definitely going - provided it’s after my am-dram group’s production closes, fingers crossed. There were problems on the motorway, so Graham’s online route-finder sent him home along A roads, meaning we still hadn’t stopped as we approached Salisbury and people were starting to complain of hunger and needing the loo. After miles of roads with just fields, we reached a petrol station and pulled in. “I say we keep going,” said one girl, presumably hoping for an actual eaterie, but a team-mate retorted “It’s not about you, princess” and everyone piled in to avail themselves of the conveniences and the snacks on offer.
When we arrived back at the drop-off point in Portsmouth, with a rail strike this weekend Karl and Graham agreed to let me travel to Swindon with the team this Sunday. As he was already giving one of the substitutes a lift to Gosport, Karl dropped me at home.
Tuesday evening at am-dram group Ian, our director, observed “Shakespeare is very much ‘power to the girls’ in many of his plays”. “Brilliant”, I observed; Ian rounded on me and exclaimed “No, it’s not brilliant! What’s the matter with you?” One of our lady members said “He’s been well trained by his mum”…
Bright and early start on Sunday to catch the train to Keynsham to see Moneyfields Women. Three changes of train, at Guildford, Reading and Bath Spa. Thankfully all the trains arrived on time. On the road going towards the ground, reached the Crown Inn and popped in for a Sunday roast (went for turkey, very good) and a cloudy lemon cider.
Paid my £5 entry (programme inclusive) to the friendly lady behind a table at the entrance gate. Met Graham and Karl at pitchside. They asked how I’d got there, and after hearing about my train journey offered me a lift home on the team minibus.
Graham and I headed for the bar, staffed by another friendly lady. I went for a local blackberry cider. On the big screen was a rugby match, Gloucester v Leicester. The barmaid lamented that they weren’t subscribed to any of the channels showing football. I advised her to switch over to BBC1 for the preamble to the Scotland v Ireland rugby match once that started - she agreed.
I sat in the stand with Graham, Naomi the kit lady, her daughter and Moneyfields juniors player Phoebe, and Lucy, wife of our player Charley (I’ve known Charley over 15 years). We saw a humdinger! Twice Keynsham took the lead, twice Gemma Simmonds struck home a well taken equaliser, then late in the game our 16-year-old first-team debutante Freya Farrow played a beautiful forward diagonal ball for our Hawaiian striker Kau’inohea Taylor to round the keeper and roll home to give us the win.
Early in the game, to my relief I learned from Naomi and Lucy that Kau’inohea answers to the nickname Katie.
It was Phoebe’s birthday. In the clubhouse after the match, the girls presented her with a Cuthbert the Caterpillar cake and we all sang Happy Birthday To You. Sausages and chips were laid on for our party. We drank and watched the rugby for a while until Graham mustered us all to head for the minibus.
Karl and the girls had top banter on the drive home. Plans were made for the St Austell trip on the last day of the season; on the Saturday evening they’ll be going for a meal out and to watch the Tyson Fury fight. I said I already had my hotel booked. There was very exciting news about a possible pre-season friendly this summer which I can’t disclose, but if it happens I’m definitely going - provided it’s after my am-dram group’s production closes, fingers crossed. There were problems on the motorway, so Graham’s online route-finder sent him home along A roads, meaning we still hadn’t stopped as we approached Salisbury and people were starting to complain of hunger and needing the loo. After miles of roads with just fields, we reached a petrol station and pulled in. “I say we keep going,” said one girl, presumably hoping for an actual eaterie, but a team-mate retorted “It’s not about you, princess” and everyone piled in to avail themselves of the conveniences and the snacks on offer.
When we arrived back at the drop-off point in Portsmouth, with a rail strike this weekend Karl and Graham agreed to let me travel to Swindon with the team this Sunday. As he was already giving one of the substitutes a lift to Gosport, Karl dropped me at home.
Tuesday evening at am-dram group Ian, our director, observed “Shakespeare is very much ‘power to the girls’ in many of his plays”. “Brilliant”, I observed; Ian rounded on me and exclaimed “No, it’s not brilliant! What’s the matter with you?” One of our lady members said “He’s been well trained by his mum”…
