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Lucky Stars
Apr. 10th, 2023 08:12 pm
Sobering news last Monday. The specialist clinic my dentist referred me to called to say my root canal filling from 1995 needs redoing - and that will cost close to a thousand. The lady I spoke to understood I’d need time to save and let me book an appointment for late July. Meanwhile that’s most of my plans for the summer ripped up. Going to have to hope there’s plenty worth watching on telly.
On Wednesday, packing my bag for the trip to Selsey and then on to London, my Euro 2022 Champions T-shirt could not be found anywhere. I am gutted to lose it, not just because it was my memento of the Lionesses’ European win but because it was my lucky T-shirt. I’d worn it to every England Women game I’d attended since the Euros and we were unbeaten. I packed the only other England top I have - the red 2019-20 replica shirt my old work colleagues got me for a leaving present - but set off firmly convinced we were going to lose to Brazil and that the Lionesses’ form would go down the tube from here on in.
First was Selsey, for Moneyfields Women’s rearranged match with Selsey Women. The pub I stayed in was charming and the staff friendly, though the main meals were out of my newly constrained price range so I called at a delightful chippy on the way to the ground.
In the ground, the girls were standing outside the dressing rooms, locked out. The door handle had dropped rendering it impossible to open. Karl made a few attempts at kicking it open. Selsey officials searched for a key, but when one was found it was no use because of the dropped handle. Eventually, we saw a large rectangular portion of the door fly out, kicked from the inside. More parts followed until the hole was large enough for the girls to climb through. I went to join Naomi, Amy and Lucy in the clubhouse for a couple of jars.
I watched the match at pitchside with them and a couple of other friends of players. It was a 0-0 draw, but not dull. There was a fair amount of needle in the play. A foul was called against Katie. As the ref called her over to show her the yellow card, Katie jumped up in the air with devil-may-care abandon. Naomi and Lucy told me some anecdotes that are not for publication, but they, together with Katie’s jump, convinced me that Moneyfields is Britain’s craziest women’s football club. I’m going to be at home there.
On Thursday it was on to London. Arrived in Wembley with time for lunch at German Doner Kebab on the High Road before lugging my heavy bag the 20 minute walk to my hotel, close to the stadium. In the lengthy queue to check in I met Sue. We chatted until we reached the front. Soon after going to my room I noticed the lights weren’t working and went down to reception. After a period of waiting, one of the assistants behind the check-in desk came to the room with me. He reckoned my mobile phone charger had tripped the lights. He opened the fuse box in the top corner next to the door and flicked a switch. The lights worked from then on, and happily later I was able to charge my phone and power bank with no ill effects.
I made my way down to the Blue Check, now the established Lioness fan pub for Wembley matches. Leanne and her mum, and Sue, were already there, as was Debs from Free Lionesses.
Happily, Debs had time for a chat and I told her how I was feeling out of sorts since losing my lucky T-shirt. I told her how the red England shirt I was wearing was bad luck. Debs asked “How can this shirt be bad luck? It’s beautiful!” I explained to her how the first two times I wore it were for defeats to France and Canada.
She said “Under Phil Neville? It’s a new era now.”
I replied “I hardly think a managerial change takes the hoodoo off the shirt.”
“But you’ve worn it for games we’ve won since?”
“Yes, but nearly all against diddy teams. The only decent team I’ve seen us beat wearing this is Germany.”
She said “It can hardly be a bad luck shirt if you’ve seen us beat Germany in it. Hold on to that Germany memory.”
We went on to the practical problem : that my souvenir of our Euro win was gone. I explained that that particular T-shirt is no longer on sale and that anyway my current budget is very tight. She found a website selling an England European Champions key ring.
I thanked her for the chat and circulated around Rachel, Jill and Steph, Leanne, Jules and Ali, and Kath and Angela, catching up with most of them for the first time in several months, sinking several berry and cherry Old Mouts (much to my chagrin, Old Mouts have replaced Rekorderligs behind the Blue Check bar). On hearing about the disappearance of my lucky shirt, Jules said “We’re definitely going to lose. Ali didn’t eat in Wagamama today.” Rachel said that, as fans, our lucky talismans are for our benefit, to improve our sense of wellbeing about the team, saying “the players don’t know if we’ve got our lucky talismans or not”. On my notion that lack of my lucky talisman would release cosmic forces that would blow an England shot wide that otherwise would have gone in, or that would suck the ball into the England net, she reckoned enough England fans in the stadium, her included, would be carrying lucky talismans of their own for mine not to be needed. She echoed Debs’ view that the Germany win precluded any possibility of my red shirt having a hoodoo on it - “We never used to beat Germany!” Steph just said all footballing superstitions are bunkum.
We began wandering over to the stadium an hour before kick-off. I found myself walking next to Kath and we had a nice catch up chat. We spotted Rachel Brown-Finnis on the concourse; I went straight over to say hello. Some of the others followed and joined me to briefly talk to her. We found our seats, in the upper half of the lower tier with a plum view of the pitch.
We cheered Jill Scott as she came out to sit the trophy on its pedestal, and stood for the anthems. The Titantron showed a girl in the crowd with a placard “Lauren James - please can I have your”. I remarked on the incomplete sentence to Steph, next to me.
“Maybe it’s meant to be ‘Can I have you’?” Steph smiled.
“If only I’d thought of that idea six years ago.” [i. e. when Laura was playing]
Steph grinned. “I’m not sure it would have worked.”
We lived and breathed every kick of the game, roaring the Lionesses on. Tension eased halfway through the first half when Ella Toone scored.
We gave Ellen White a standing ovation when she came out at half-time to receive her framed commemorative shirt as a recently retired Lioness. The second half brought more tense moments but the Lionesses looked set to hold on - until minutes from time Brazil equalised from a goalmouth scramble. There was time for one more England foray forward, and we all roared encouragement - but it came to nothing. Penalties it was.
It goes without saying that I wanted England to win. But when Ella Toone missed hers I was ready to go round saying “I told you so” to a few people. Mary Earps, though, atoned for the Brazilian goal, saving two kicks to give England the win.
We clapped the players as they celebrated on the pitch, applauding Mary as she ran along the pitch suffused with joy - and no doubt cathartic release. We stayed for the trophy presentation and filed to the staircase as Sweet Caroline played.
Outside the stadium, as we walked along, Steph said “Now do you believe me? No such thing as lucky shirts.” Jules said she and Ali were going for McDonald’s and asked if I’d join them. I toddled along with them and ordered a hamburger and fries from the touch screen. There was an anxious moment as Jules thought her and Ali’s combined order had been half-inched, but her number was called, followed by mine soon after, and we walked back to Blue Check eating. In the pub we found a table with the others, then Jen and Natalia joined us. Jen and Amir both said they were glad we’d faced a tough game during the run-up to the World Cup and experienced the pressure cooker of a penalty shoot-out in a competitive game in a packed stadium. We stayed drinking until chucking out time at 1 am. The bouncer exhorted us to move a couple of times; we had to explain we were waiting for Crystal who was in the Ladies. On the walk, before we separated to our hotels, Rachel announced “Coffee in Costa on Wembley Way at 9.30.”
I made it down to Costa just before the appointed hour. I was first of our group there; Crystal wasn’t far behind. She ordered food with her coffee and we talked till Jules, Ali, Rachel, Jen and Natalia arrived. While I’d had breakfast at my hotel, the others hadn’t: they all ordered breakfast here. Jules told me and Crystal about her plans for the women’s cricket season and exhorted Crystal to start following the cricket, which led us into the topic of our sporting crushes. Crystal talked about Mary Earps, though when I asked her “So Mary, for you, is it fandom or crush?” she just said “It’s complicated.”
Jules and Ali said their goodbyes to us with kisses and hugs and left to drive back to Nottingham. The rest of us were going on to Wimbledon to see Australia v Scotland. But Natalia informed us that there were problems on the tubes. Rachel searched online and found Wembley Park tube was closed. We milled around outside the cafe wondering what to do - we considered ordering an Uber people carrier and splitting the cost five ways - until Jen contacted Sophie, who was going by taxi, and got her to swing by Wembley to pick us up. We had to walk along for over 20 minutes to get to the agreed pick-up point, only known to Jen so we just followed her. It was on a side street; we waited outside a house that looked like the Munsters’ weekend place.
The people carrier arrived with Sophie sitting in front and we all got in. And so we drove across London from Wembley to Wimbledon, talking about the candidate countries bidding to host the 2027 Women’s World Cup. Rachel hoped it would be in Brazil; she has friends from there and has visited Rio before. I favoured the Belgium-Germany-Holland bid; Jen agreed, perhaps, like me, with one eye on the beer.
We arrived at New Plough Lane with 20 minutes to kick-off. Sophie said she didn’t want paying from the rest of us as it was on an expense account but we all paid her something anyway. I was Hank Marvin by now so on seeing a stall selling Argentinian sandwiches I joined the queue, and stayed in line even as I heard the anthems play and the game kick off. My Traditional sirloin steak sandwich was well worth the wait.
Alas, we were all sitting in different blocks. I was in a section full of Aussies. They enthusiastically got behind the Matildas and I joined in, but Scotland won a quiet game 1-0. At half-time Charlotte, who I’d missed meeting the day before, came down to the bar behind the stand to meet me. She let me hug and kiss her. I’m still in love with her. She told me about her travels with Manchester City and how she was looking forward to heading to Australia to see Ireland in the World Cup. We got a drink and chatted till the teams came back out and we returned to our respective stands.
At full time I made for the pub (yes, AFC Wimbledon are a splendid club and have a pub in a corner of their stadium). Rachel, Jen, Natalia and Lisa were sitting at a table in the corner. I went to the bar, ordered a Panettone stout - dark, sweet, 6%, just what the doctor ordered - and went over to join them for a leisurely drink and chat until it was time for me to make tracks back to Wembley. The others were surprised at my going back there; while they’d all travelled light, wearing backpacks that they were allowed to take into the Wimbledon ground, and so we’re heading home now, my hold-all weighed a ton so I’d had to book a second night at the hotel in Wembley to see this game.
The previous day, and that morning, the hotel had been buzzing with Lionesses fans; it was an odd and deflating feeling to arrive back there that evening with the party well and truly over. Four episodes of Top of the Pops passed the evening nicely though, and after those I hit the hotel bar for the blood orange Rekorderlig I’d been unable to get at Blue Check.
Back home next morning, arriving in Gosport at lunch time. One consequence of having to save for that dental bill is that I’m packing in going to men’s matches so I spent Saturday afternoon catching up on some of the TV shows I’d missed over the last few days.
Yesterday it was nice to tuck into an Easter egg after weeks of Lenten abstention from chocolate. News came in the morning that Moneyfields Women’s match with St Austell was off for “reasons beyond our control”. Another afternoon and evening with the telly and radio.
Today I’d have loved to be at Leicester for the Jamaica Women v Sheffield United Women game, but I had a long-standing commitment to meet up with Jade. Financially that was probably just as well, and it was good to catch up with her as we both had plenty of news.
Back with the Lionesses tomorrow.
On Wednesday, packing my bag for the trip to Selsey and then on to London, my Euro 2022 Champions T-shirt could not be found anywhere. I am gutted to lose it, not just because it was my memento of the Lionesses’ European win but because it was my lucky T-shirt. I’d worn it to every England Women game I’d attended since the Euros and we were unbeaten. I packed the only other England top I have - the red 2019-20 replica shirt my old work colleagues got me for a leaving present - but set off firmly convinced we were going to lose to Brazil and that the Lionesses’ form would go down the tube from here on in.
First was Selsey, for Moneyfields Women’s rearranged match with Selsey Women. The pub I stayed in was charming and the staff friendly, though the main meals were out of my newly constrained price range so I called at a delightful chippy on the way to the ground.
In the ground, the girls were standing outside the dressing rooms, locked out. The door handle had dropped rendering it impossible to open. Karl made a few attempts at kicking it open. Selsey officials searched for a key, but when one was found it was no use because of the dropped handle. Eventually, we saw a large rectangular portion of the door fly out, kicked from the inside. More parts followed until the hole was large enough for the girls to climb through. I went to join Naomi, Amy and Lucy in the clubhouse for a couple of jars.
I watched the match at pitchside with them and a couple of other friends of players. It was a 0-0 draw, but not dull. There was a fair amount of needle in the play. A foul was called against Katie. As the ref called her over to show her the yellow card, Katie jumped up in the air with devil-may-care abandon. Naomi and Lucy told me some anecdotes that are not for publication, but they, together with Katie’s jump, convinced me that Moneyfields is Britain’s craziest women’s football club. I’m going to be at home there.
On Thursday it was on to London. Arrived in Wembley with time for lunch at German Doner Kebab on the High Road before lugging my heavy bag the 20 minute walk to my hotel, close to the stadium. In the lengthy queue to check in I met Sue. We chatted until we reached the front. Soon after going to my room I noticed the lights weren’t working and went down to reception. After a period of waiting, one of the assistants behind the check-in desk came to the room with me. He reckoned my mobile phone charger had tripped the lights. He opened the fuse box in the top corner next to the door and flicked a switch. The lights worked from then on, and happily later I was able to charge my phone and power bank with no ill effects.
I made my way down to the Blue Check, now the established Lioness fan pub for Wembley matches. Leanne and her mum, and Sue, were already there, as was Debs from Free Lionesses.
Happily, Debs had time for a chat and I told her how I was feeling out of sorts since losing my lucky T-shirt. I told her how the red England shirt I was wearing was bad luck. Debs asked “How can this shirt be bad luck? It’s beautiful!” I explained to her how the first two times I wore it were for defeats to France and Canada.
She said “Under Phil Neville? It’s a new era now.”
I replied “I hardly think a managerial change takes the hoodoo off the shirt.”
“But you’ve worn it for games we’ve won since?”
“Yes, but nearly all against diddy teams. The only decent team I’ve seen us beat wearing this is Germany.”
She said “It can hardly be a bad luck shirt if you’ve seen us beat Germany in it. Hold on to that Germany memory.”
We went on to the practical problem : that my souvenir of our Euro win was gone. I explained that that particular T-shirt is no longer on sale and that anyway my current budget is very tight. She found a website selling an England European Champions key ring.
I thanked her for the chat and circulated around Rachel, Jill and Steph, Leanne, Jules and Ali, and Kath and Angela, catching up with most of them for the first time in several months, sinking several berry and cherry Old Mouts (much to my chagrin, Old Mouts have replaced Rekorderligs behind the Blue Check bar). On hearing about the disappearance of my lucky shirt, Jules said “We’re definitely going to lose. Ali didn’t eat in Wagamama today.” Rachel said that, as fans, our lucky talismans are for our benefit, to improve our sense of wellbeing about the team, saying “the players don’t know if we’ve got our lucky talismans or not”. On my notion that lack of my lucky talisman would release cosmic forces that would blow an England shot wide that otherwise would have gone in, or that would suck the ball into the England net, she reckoned enough England fans in the stadium, her included, would be carrying lucky talismans of their own for mine not to be needed. She echoed Debs’ view that the Germany win precluded any possibility of my red shirt having a hoodoo on it - “We never used to beat Germany!” Steph just said all footballing superstitions are bunkum.
We began wandering over to the stadium an hour before kick-off. I found myself walking next to Kath and we had a nice catch up chat. We spotted Rachel Brown-Finnis on the concourse; I went straight over to say hello. Some of the others followed and joined me to briefly talk to her. We found our seats, in the upper half of the lower tier with a plum view of the pitch.
We cheered Jill Scott as she came out to sit the trophy on its pedestal, and stood for the anthems. The Titantron showed a girl in the crowd with a placard “Lauren James - please can I have your”. I remarked on the incomplete sentence to Steph, next to me.
“Maybe it’s meant to be ‘Can I have you’?” Steph smiled.
“If only I’d thought of that idea six years ago.” [i. e. when Laura was playing]
Steph grinned. “I’m not sure it would have worked.”
We lived and breathed every kick of the game, roaring the Lionesses on. Tension eased halfway through the first half when Ella Toone scored.
We gave Ellen White a standing ovation when she came out at half-time to receive her framed commemorative shirt as a recently retired Lioness. The second half brought more tense moments but the Lionesses looked set to hold on - until minutes from time Brazil equalised from a goalmouth scramble. There was time for one more England foray forward, and we all roared encouragement - but it came to nothing. Penalties it was.
It goes without saying that I wanted England to win. But when Ella Toone missed hers I was ready to go round saying “I told you so” to a few people. Mary Earps, though, atoned for the Brazilian goal, saving two kicks to give England the win.
We clapped the players as they celebrated on the pitch, applauding Mary as she ran along the pitch suffused with joy - and no doubt cathartic release. We stayed for the trophy presentation and filed to the staircase as Sweet Caroline played.
Outside the stadium, as we walked along, Steph said “Now do you believe me? No such thing as lucky shirts.” Jules said she and Ali were going for McDonald’s and asked if I’d join them. I toddled along with them and ordered a hamburger and fries from the touch screen. There was an anxious moment as Jules thought her and Ali’s combined order had been half-inched, but her number was called, followed by mine soon after, and we walked back to Blue Check eating. In the pub we found a table with the others, then Jen and Natalia joined us. Jen and Amir both said they were glad we’d faced a tough game during the run-up to the World Cup and experienced the pressure cooker of a penalty shoot-out in a competitive game in a packed stadium. We stayed drinking until chucking out time at 1 am. The bouncer exhorted us to move a couple of times; we had to explain we were waiting for Crystal who was in the Ladies. On the walk, before we separated to our hotels, Rachel announced “Coffee in Costa on Wembley Way at 9.30.”
I made it down to Costa just before the appointed hour. I was first of our group there; Crystal wasn’t far behind. She ordered food with her coffee and we talked till Jules, Ali, Rachel, Jen and Natalia arrived. While I’d had breakfast at my hotel, the others hadn’t: they all ordered breakfast here. Jules told me and Crystal about her plans for the women’s cricket season and exhorted Crystal to start following the cricket, which led us into the topic of our sporting crushes. Crystal talked about Mary Earps, though when I asked her “So Mary, for you, is it fandom or crush?” she just said “It’s complicated.”
Jules and Ali said their goodbyes to us with kisses and hugs and left to drive back to Nottingham. The rest of us were going on to Wimbledon to see Australia v Scotland. But Natalia informed us that there were problems on the tubes. Rachel searched online and found Wembley Park tube was closed. We milled around outside the cafe wondering what to do - we considered ordering an Uber people carrier and splitting the cost five ways - until Jen contacted Sophie, who was going by taxi, and got her to swing by Wembley to pick us up. We had to walk along for over 20 minutes to get to the agreed pick-up point, only known to Jen so we just followed her. It was on a side street; we waited outside a house that looked like the Munsters’ weekend place.
The people carrier arrived with Sophie sitting in front and we all got in. And so we drove across London from Wembley to Wimbledon, talking about the candidate countries bidding to host the 2027 Women’s World Cup. Rachel hoped it would be in Brazil; she has friends from there and has visited Rio before. I favoured the Belgium-Germany-Holland bid; Jen agreed, perhaps, like me, with one eye on the beer.
We arrived at New Plough Lane with 20 minutes to kick-off. Sophie said she didn’t want paying from the rest of us as it was on an expense account but we all paid her something anyway. I was Hank Marvin by now so on seeing a stall selling Argentinian sandwiches I joined the queue, and stayed in line even as I heard the anthems play and the game kick off. My Traditional sirloin steak sandwich was well worth the wait.
Alas, we were all sitting in different blocks. I was in a section full of Aussies. They enthusiastically got behind the Matildas and I joined in, but Scotland won a quiet game 1-0. At half-time Charlotte, who I’d missed meeting the day before, came down to the bar behind the stand to meet me. She let me hug and kiss her. I’m still in love with her. She told me about her travels with Manchester City and how she was looking forward to heading to Australia to see Ireland in the World Cup. We got a drink and chatted till the teams came back out and we returned to our respective stands.
At full time I made for the pub (yes, AFC Wimbledon are a splendid club and have a pub in a corner of their stadium). Rachel, Jen, Natalia and Lisa were sitting at a table in the corner. I went to the bar, ordered a Panettone stout - dark, sweet, 6%, just what the doctor ordered - and went over to join them for a leisurely drink and chat until it was time for me to make tracks back to Wembley. The others were surprised at my going back there; while they’d all travelled light, wearing backpacks that they were allowed to take into the Wimbledon ground, and so we’re heading home now, my hold-all weighed a ton so I’d had to book a second night at the hotel in Wembley to see this game.
The previous day, and that morning, the hotel had been buzzing with Lionesses fans; it was an odd and deflating feeling to arrive back there that evening with the party well and truly over. Four episodes of Top of the Pops passed the evening nicely though, and after those I hit the hotel bar for the blood orange Rekorderlig I’d been unable to get at Blue Check.
Back home next morning, arriving in Gosport at lunch time. One consequence of having to save for that dental bill is that I’m packing in going to men’s matches so I spent Saturday afternoon catching up on some of the TV shows I’d missed over the last few days.
Yesterday it was nice to tuck into an Easter egg after weeks of Lenten abstention from chocolate. News came in the morning that Moneyfields Women’s match with St Austell was off for “reasons beyond our control”. Another afternoon and evening with the telly and radio.
Today I’d have loved to be at Leicester for the Jamaica Women v Sheffield United Women game, but I had a long-standing commitment to meet up with Jade. Financially that was probably just as well, and it was good to catch up with her as we both had plenty of news.
Back with the Lionesses tomorrow.
