Breakfast At Tiffany's
Sep. 9th, 2020 04:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eiffel_71To London for Fisher v Balham yesterday evening. Several of the guys who went on Saturday said hello to me; looks like I'm accepted as one of the Fish faithful once more. Great news. The attendance was boosted by a fair number of Dulwich Hamlet fans looking for a fix of football while they wait for the National Leagues to start. Nice to see a respectable and friendly rapport between the fans of Southwark's two teams. There was also a Balham fan wearing a hat festooned with metal football badges.
With about 20 minutes to kick-off, I made my way to the door of the clubhouse, but a lady from Millwall Community Trust sitting on a chair outside the door said there'd be no refreshments again tonight so I trooped off to the stand. Finding a seat properly social distanced was tricky but I got one in the front row a decent length from anyone.
Balham took the lead on 7 minutes from a penalty awarded for what looked like ball to arm. From then in, both teams had their share of pressing forward but the defences did a good job of containing them and what few serious shots were made were gathered by the goalies. The visitors held on for the win.
On my way out a few of the chaps asked if I'd be at the FA Cup tie at Tooting on Saturday, I said yes. Walking along Salter Road to the station, a Fish waiting at the bus stop asked if I was getting a train home now. I said I was in a hotel for the night.
"Making a trip of it? Don't blame you."
I explained there wasn't a train back to Portsmouth this late.
"That's dedication."
On the station the Balham fan said hello. He said it wasn't a classic game but he was happy with the win. As my train pulled in he wished us luck for the season, I said "See you down at Croydon" (where Balham play their home games) and he said "Hopefully, all being well." That had me crossing fingers that, with new government coronavirus developments imminent, we get to carry on having spectators at our level of football.
Arrived back at the hotel to find the bar shut. Having not had my thirst quenched all evening, I crossed the road to the Shipwright's Arms where I drank a Blue Moon at a corner table for one, while a lively group of six young Saras and Quentins enjoyed tipples at a round table a few feet away.
Back at the hotel room, logged on to Twitter to find a couple of sexist arseholes had been giving my dear friend Crystal a hard time for debunking their idiotic comments about women's football. I took down their nonsense with facts, and soon got the badge of honour: one of the dickheads blocked me. I tweeted to Crystal, and to our friend Jules who'd made a valiant effort to spread some peace and love, that the other idiot has the logo of an openly racist political party as his Twitter avatar, so that's how much they're worth.
Classic EastEnders on the hotel room telly first thing this morning. We're into late January and early February 1995 now. Poor lonely pretty Natalie. Nice to see her finding a bit of comfort with Ricky, but I remember what's coming very soon... :(
When the staff said I was booked for a full English breakfast, they were happy to provide me at my request with one without eggs and beans. Very nice, especially the tater tots. Those had me nostalgic for the tater tot poutine of Orlando two years ago.
And then it was onto the tube to Waterloo to renew my Network Railcard with a wonderful ticket office lady whom I managed to epically confuse but who showed amazing levels of patience to keep a smile on her face, then into the Starbucks for a decaf mocha with oat milk and onto the train home.
With about 20 minutes to kick-off, I made my way to the door of the clubhouse, but a lady from Millwall Community Trust sitting on a chair outside the door said there'd be no refreshments again tonight so I trooped off to the stand. Finding a seat properly social distanced was tricky but I got one in the front row a decent length from anyone.
Balham took the lead on 7 minutes from a penalty awarded for what looked like ball to arm. From then in, both teams had their share of pressing forward but the defences did a good job of containing them and what few serious shots were made were gathered by the goalies. The visitors held on for the win.
On my way out a few of the chaps asked if I'd be at the FA Cup tie at Tooting on Saturday, I said yes. Walking along Salter Road to the station, a Fish waiting at the bus stop asked if I was getting a train home now. I said I was in a hotel for the night.
"Making a trip of it? Don't blame you."
I explained there wasn't a train back to Portsmouth this late.
"That's dedication."
On the station the Balham fan said hello. He said it wasn't a classic game but he was happy with the win. As my train pulled in he wished us luck for the season, I said "See you down at Croydon" (where Balham play their home games) and he said "Hopefully, all being well." That had me crossing fingers that, with new government coronavirus developments imminent, we get to carry on having spectators at our level of football.
Arrived back at the hotel to find the bar shut. Having not had my thirst quenched all evening, I crossed the road to the Shipwright's Arms where I drank a Blue Moon at a corner table for one, while a lively group of six young Saras and Quentins enjoyed tipples at a round table a few feet away.
Back at the hotel room, logged on to Twitter to find a couple of sexist arseholes had been giving my dear friend Crystal a hard time for debunking their idiotic comments about women's football. I took down their nonsense with facts, and soon got the badge of honour: one of the dickheads blocked me. I tweeted to Crystal, and to our friend Jules who'd made a valiant effort to spread some peace and love, that the other idiot has the logo of an openly racist political party as his Twitter avatar, so that's how much they're worth.
Classic EastEnders on the hotel room telly first thing this morning. We're into late January and early February 1995 now. Poor lonely pretty Natalie. Nice to see her finding a bit of comfort with Ricky, but I remember what's coming very soon... :(
When the staff said I was booked for a full English breakfast, they were happy to provide me at my request with one without eggs and beans. Very nice, especially the tater tots. Those had me nostalgic for the tater tot poutine of Orlando two years ago.
And then it was onto the tube to Waterloo to renew my Network Railcard with a wonderful ticket office lady whom I managed to epically confuse but who showed amazing levels of patience to keep a smile on her face, then into the Starbucks for a decaf mocha with oat milk and onto the train home.
