Normally when I do these on-the-road journals, I go out with a sense of excitement mixed with trepidation. What will the food be like? Can I speak enough of the lingo? What will my Ibis be like? Does it have a subway system? And will I get attacked when I take pictures of run-down tower
Thank christ the rugby world cup is over. I’m not too sure if I could have taken “Wilko and the boys” rammed down my throat any longer. Nor a game where kicking the ball out for a throw-in every 15 seconds is celebrated as much as a 30 yarder screamer. And don’t get me started
If truth be told, I wasn’t planning to do a report on the Horsham FAC game, especially as it’s midweek and especially as it’s so late. However, after a drive in rather pissing horrible rain on the M23, and a cold can of Lech nicely opened, I feel the need to ramble. Hell, I can’t
This will probably read a bit rushed and a little brief, as all that lovely sport is on telly today…. I didn’t do a report for the Folkestone game, but if I had I think it’ll read much like what Mark 0 Lard 0 will right now. Somehow I think that a forward line of
Ah, now that was a bit more like it. Well, the second half of Michael Havers 2 Ann Widdicombe 0 was anyway, and suddenly the horrors of our scratch side “performing” last Tuesday was but a distant memory. Of course, I knew we’d do it. See, unlike Gordon Brown yesterday, we didn’t bottle it. Whereas