I tell you what I’m going to do this close season. I am going to reproduce all the journies I have done this season and call it “Transportation Of Doom”. More on my, ahem, attempts to get there a little later, but first the match. Time 1 Tiny 1 was a good result against a team widely tipped for auto promotion this season. In fact, we made much of the early running. It was described by Sky Sports as an open game. It’s described by SW19 as a game where had we learnt how to (a) finish and (b) not get quite so stretched in defense we would have won by more than 1-0. Euell scored for us, Wu Tang and Roberts missed similar shots. Jansen scored for them, after we found ourselves about 1 on 3. Still, if you’d asked me 24 hours earlier then I would have been very happy with a draw….
Onto yesterday’s jollities:
Plus points: We didn’t lose. Nobody played badly. We looked MUCH more solid and didn’t allow Blackburn to come at us a la Grimsby. Good positioning by Euell, Wu Tang and the new guy, Cooper. The way we kept plugging away.
Minus points: We didn’t win. Bit slack for their goal. Looked quite lethargic at times during the first half. Having to pay £17 considering my circumstances (see below)
Long: Blackburn railway station to Ewood Park. Especially if you go via the wrong side of Blackburn.
Quotes: (1) “This was the worst I’ve seen Blackburn play this season. I thought you should have beaten us” – cool Blackburn fan at Preston station on the return. (2) “It’s St Patricks Day and I’m still sober” – well known Emerald Isle womble (not the C.U.N Womble I hasten to add), who was a bit flu’ed up. (3) “Roberts had a howler” – paraphrased quote from the radio. Funny, I thought he played OK
Spotted: Peter Cork at Euston, with presumably one of those dodgy Indians* that Peter Mandelson lost his job over. Does Mr Cork want a new passport then?
* – DISCLAIMER: By “dodgy Indians”, I am referring to that dodgy Hinduka or whatever their name was family who funded the Millennium Dome white elephant in return for a British passport from Peter “Not Proud To Be Gay” Mandelson and Keith “Why The Fuck Should I Tell You Anything You Racist Bastard” Vaz. This is NOT a slur against Indian people in general, many of whom I have found to be the most honest, hardworking people around. This disclaimer is written because I’ve been unfairly accused of racism not less than 3 times in the past. I’m not a Man City fan you know.
Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction (or: Yet another away day travel with WFC): Those who were there, sorry to relive the memories. Those who weren’t, sit back and “enjoy”:
Boarded train at 9.10am. Train departs at about 9.20am as scheduled. Bottles of a lager called “Piss” (see above) were being sold for £1 a lob. This despite the same bottles being purchased in a public house for £2. Hmm, great marketing I think not. Sharon may be taking that person on to work for her.
Tannoy announcement comes on and says that because of engineering work, we’re going via Birmingham and will now get in at 1.30pm (instead of 12.20pm). Oh well. Train goes slowly. Get to M****n K****s Central about half hour later than normal. Go off again.
Do the Supporters Coach thing when in that part of the world by seeing Villa Park, point gormelessly and cry “There’s Villa’s ground”. Pass the M42/M6 Interchange. Realise that we’re going slower than some of the cars on the middle lane. See Walsall’s ground and do the self same thing. Only with more inferior comic timing. Realise that we’re now running an hour late.
Crawl into Rugby. Find out there is no alcoholic beverages on the train left. Not surprised. Ask the Virgin rep on the train about ETA. Find out that it’s now 2.15pm. And the Blackburn train leaves at 2.13pm. Great. Start picking up speed. Realise that we’ve still got to go through shitholes like Warrington (where it costs a bomb to live, apparently. Very tasteful) and Wigan. Get despondant.
Find out that Virgin/Railtrack/Lancashire Police/Some Nice Person has laid on a special bus at Preston station for us, from Preston BR to Ewood Park, police escort and everything. Perk up. Two scouse kids get on and helpfully tell us that Matt Jansen will score a hat-trick today. Tell them to fuck off. They don’t. Eventually arrive in deepest Lancashire at 2.20pm. Miss train to Blackburn.
Copper comes up to us and points us in the direction of where our transport awaits. Christen said transport as the SW19’s ARMY Preston-Ewood Park Funbus of Love. Well I thought it was funny. Funbus is conspicuous by absence. Police say that it’ll be there in 5 minutes. Comment that a group of us waiting at a station for the Funbus to arrive is akin to those stories you read in hooligan books about the firm being escored in such transport because they didn’t want us about. Check watch. 2.35pm. Get agitated. Police getting concerned. Check watch again. 2.45pm.
Decide to get 2.50pm train to Blackburn. Funbus arrives. Much cheering. One number is allowed to take his Stella on the Funbus. Faint. Get on. Go through Preston at rate of knots. Give V-signs to passing gobsmacked locals. Take poor quality photos of Funbus in transit. Comment that they’re probably going to take us on the M6 southwards back to London. Everyone laughs. See Funbus turn off onto M6 southwards to London. Stop laughing.
Get to Ewood Park at 3.15pm. Told I have to buy a ticket. £17. Swear. Amazingly discover I have £17 exactly. Young bird serving me is grateful. Probably wanted to shag me. Wake up. Run to turnstile. See Mikey T get his overnight bag searched. Mr T looks suitably unimpressed. Get in. Find the hardcore sitting there. Get reliably informed that I’ve missed the first 15 minutes which happened to be the best 15 minutes of football ever, and anyone who misses it is a sad loser. Swear. Ask score. Get told 0-0. Mentally question fellow Wombles perception of football games. Or realise it was a piss take. Sit down and start taking photos for this site, one does one’s priorities straight.
And if you found the above heavy reading, then just imagine how I feel living through it.
Of course, it could have been worse: I could have got the 10.25am from Euston which got cancelled, and have to go via Stockport on the Manchester Express. I’m sure Itmustbedons.com and W&WW will expand on that journey far better than I could. They arrived 10 minutes later than I did, and got in for nowt. Bastards. Still, I had the last laugh – they didn’t go on the Funbus……
Twat: The drug addict with his slut bird on the Northern Line smoking. When asked to put it out he refused and started swearing a lot. Me, I kept quiet, but it does at least reaffirm my view that drug-taking is a sign of lack of intelligence….
So, was it worth the ordeal as lovingly described above? Well, we didn’t lose……
In a nutshell: I’m driving to Bolton