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Hawks away to Thurrock. We'd been on the road about an hour when the TV screen at the front of the coach sparked into life and, after a couple of trailers, the opening titles of Gavin & Stacey came on. Sadly, someone sitting near the front must have strenuously objected to that choice of viewing because the title sequence hadn't finished when the DVD was ejected. Malc then announced "This is a crap film, blame Dave Woods, he chose it" and the opening credits showed it to be 'Enigma'. Ah well, I'll get a fix of Kate Winslet, I thought to myself. No such luck. It wasn't that Enigma but a piece of Cold War guff from the eighties. Mark yelled "Put Gavin & Stacey back on," but the film stayed on. I returned to my copy of the new FourFourTwo.
We stopped at Clacketts Lane service station just after noon, where I made straight for the Wimpy bar for a Quarter Pounder and chips. This is what away days are about. We'd been told we had half an hour there, so I thought I was on safe ground queuing at Costa for an iced vanilla latte. I'd just been served when one of the other travelling Hawks came up and urged me to get a move on. Everyone else was already on the coach waiting to go - and yet we'd only been there 28 minutes when I did get back on! It takes the biscuit being made to feel you're late when you're not.
On FourFourTwo's Non League page there was a photo of our Scotch Egg Boys' flag, with Hayley and her two kids standing in front of it! As we got off the coach at Thurrock's ground I showed the Scotch Egg boys, who passed the mag around themselves with pure delight, then to Hayley who was equally made up. "The Scotch Egg Boys achieve national fame," said one of their number. They all vowed to buy copies, though one of them had second thoughts when he saw the £4.10 price on the cover.
It was still only just gone 1.30, so into the clubhouse for a couple of pre-match Magners. Kevin, one of the Hawks' officials, came up to us and mentioned the rugby league cup final, so he and I had a good chat about RL - he used to play for St Helens.
The travelling Hawk army were in good voice throughout the game. As I held the last notes on a couple of our chants, Mark thought I was one beat behind, and pointed at me and chanted "Corporal Jones". We introduced a new song for Matt Gray : as he has the same name as one of the Judas group who defected to E*******h last year, we serenaded our new Matt with "We've got the real Matt Gray". Matt obliged us on 13 minutes by curling a beauty of a free kick straight into the top corner.
The euphoria was short-lived as seven minutes later Thurrock equalised from close range, then soon after that they took the lead when one of their strikers, unmarked on the edge of the box, zinged a power shot into the far side of the goal. I lost hope at that point, but we all kept up the singing and on the half hour Craig Watkins struck an equaliser in off the post. Complete pandemonium in our end. A bit later, a Thurrock player was sent off for a feet-first assault on Kevin Scriven - the Thurrock guy didn't even try to get the ball. From where we were stood, at the far end, in the sunlight, the card the ref showed him looked yellow, drawing boos from us - we only realised he'd got his marching orders when he headed down the players' tunnel to our left.
At half time, as we queued at the tea hut, one of the Scotch Egg boys told everyone in turn not to 'get lairy' on Wednesday, when we're away to Newport County - one of the few non-league grounds where crowd trouble is not uncommon. I confessed I can't make it as I have work. "Oh dear, you're letting the side down," said the Scotch Egg boy, while Jay added "He's stripping with the Chippendales, aren't you, Wilhelmus?" A few minutes later Jay, disturbingly, called me a "sexy legend" in the Gents.
The ten men of Thurrock played for a draw after the break, but Hawks had the upper hand and were rewarded on 75 minutes when sub Charlie Henry smashed home a perfect shot from twenty yards out. Cue a chorus of 'Walking in a Henry wonderland', and an attempt by Mark to nickname him 'Charlie Thunderboots' that just reduced most of us to hysterics. Thurrock had a couple of chances but Hawks continued to dominate and we held on for the win.
At the final whistle the Hawk army sang 'Under The Moon Of Love' and saluted most of the players with their individual chants. Then it was into the clubhouse for a drink and to see how our second teams had got on - East Stirlingshire drew 1-1 at Dumbarton. The big news was that E*******h had lost 5-0 at St Albans.
We were due back on the coach at 5.30, but just after 5.15 Mark urged me to drink up and get on board - he said people were wanting to get away early. Once we were all on, Malc and Aly kept telling people "E*******h lost 5-0" or doing the routine "St Albans won 5-0" - "Who were they playing?" As we pulled out of the ground and towards the bridge over the Thames estuary, people shouted "E*******h lost 5-0" at passing cyclists. It was that kind of a day.
On our comfort break at Clacketts Lane I heard Malc telling Mark and Barry that Showaddywaddy were coming to Fareham in March and that he'd be organising a group ticket booking. I asked him to count me in. Mark said I should be banned as I sing out of tune and out of time, and called me Corporal Jones again, then reminisced about Barry being stood at the front the unforgettable night we sang with Showaddywaddy in Worthing.
Arriving back in Gosport, there was ten minutes till the bus left, so I crossed the road to the newsagent's for a Sports Mail. Two girls were sitting outside Frydays : one of them gave me a wolf whistle and shouted "I'd love a ride on you, mate." I just smiled, without looking at her.
We stopped at Clacketts Lane service station just after noon, where I made straight for the Wimpy bar for a Quarter Pounder and chips. This is what away days are about. We'd been told we had half an hour there, so I thought I was on safe ground queuing at Costa for an iced vanilla latte. I'd just been served when one of the other travelling Hawks came up and urged me to get a move on. Everyone else was already on the coach waiting to go - and yet we'd only been there 28 minutes when I did get back on! It takes the biscuit being made to feel you're late when you're not.
On FourFourTwo's Non League page there was a photo of our Scotch Egg Boys' flag, with Hayley and her two kids standing in front of it! As we got off the coach at Thurrock's ground I showed the Scotch Egg boys, who passed the mag around themselves with pure delight, then to Hayley who was equally made up. "The Scotch Egg Boys achieve national fame," said one of their number. They all vowed to buy copies, though one of them had second thoughts when he saw the £4.10 price on the cover.
It was still only just gone 1.30, so into the clubhouse for a couple of pre-match Magners. Kevin, one of the Hawks' officials, came up to us and mentioned the rugby league cup final, so he and I had a good chat about RL - he used to play for St Helens.
The travelling Hawk army were in good voice throughout the game. As I held the last notes on a couple of our chants, Mark thought I was one beat behind, and pointed at me and chanted "Corporal Jones". We introduced a new song for Matt Gray : as he has the same name as one of the Judas group who defected to E*******h last year, we serenaded our new Matt with "We've got the real Matt Gray". Matt obliged us on 13 minutes by curling a beauty of a free kick straight into the top corner.
The euphoria was short-lived as seven minutes later Thurrock equalised from close range, then soon after that they took the lead when one of their strikers, unmarked on the edge of the box, zinged a power shot into the far side of the goal. I lost hope at that point, but we all kept up the singing and on the half hour Craig Watkins struck an equaliser in off the post. Complete pandemonium in our end. A bit later, a Thurrock player was sent off for a feet-first assault on Kevin Scriven - the Thurrock guy didn't even try to get the ball. From where we were stood, at the far end, in the sunlight, the card the ref showed him looked yellow, drawing boos from us - we only realised he'd got his marching orders when he headed down the players' tunnel to our left.
At half time, as we queued at the tea hut, one of the Scotch Egg boys told everyone in turn not to 'get lairy' on Wednesday, when we're away to Newport County - one of the few non-league grounds where crowd trouble is not uncommon. I confessed I can't make it as I have work. "Oh dear, you're letting the side down," said the Scotch Egg boy, while Jay added "He's stripping with the Chippendales, aren't you, Wilhelmus?" A few minutes later Jay, disturbingly, called me a "sexy legend" in the Gents.
The ten men of Thurrock played for a draw after the break, but Hawks had the upper hand and were rewarded on 75 minutes when sub Charlie Henry smashed home a perfect shot from twenty yards out. Cue a chorus of 'Walking in a Henry wonderland', and an attempt by Mark to nickname him 'Charlie Thunderboots' that just reduced most of us to hysterics. Thurrock had a couple of chances but Hawks continued to dominate and we held on for the win.
At the final whistle the Hawk army sang 'Under The Moon Of Love' and saluted most of the players with their individual chants. Then it was into the clubhouse for a drink and to see how our second teams had got on - East Stirlingshire drew 1-1 at Dumbarton. The big news was that E*******h had lost 5-0 at St Albans.
We were due back on the coach at 5.30, but just after 5.15 Mark urged me to drink up and get on board - he said people were wanting to get away early. Once we were all on, Malc and Aly kept telling people "E*******h lost 5-0" or doing the routine "St Albans won 5-0" - "Who were they playing?" As we pulled out of the ground and towards the bridge over the Thames estuary, people shouted "E*******h lost 5-0" at passing cyclists. It was that kind of a day.
On our comfort break at Clacketts Lane I heard Malc telling Mark and Barry that Showaddywaddy were coming to Fareham in March and that he'd be organising a group ticket booking. I asked him to count me in. Mark said I should be banned as I sing out of tune and out of time, and called me Corporal Jones again, then reminisced about Barry being stood at the front the unforgettable night we sang with Showaddywaddy in Worthing.
Arriving back in Gosport, there was ten minutes till the bus left, so I crossed the road to the newsagent's for a Sports Mail. Two girls were sitting outside Frydays : one of them gave me a wolf whistle and shouted "I'd love a ride on you, mate." I just smiled, without looking at her.