FL2: Mansfield Town vs Torquay United, 26th April 2014

Well done lads.
We've had little luck in the last few months and time and games just ran out for us.
Eight away wins and we go down.
A chance to finish off the bottom next week, little consolation.
I just dont understand.
Feeling a little emotional now.

Get down the Haywain mate. If I was in Torquay I would join you.

Cheers - the Haywain has gone a bit down hill of late so will give that a miss.

Steak beckons at the Blagdon Inn followed by a few up the Dumpling.

My wife's first words after being told that Torquay have been relegated "So, you wont be watching them next season then?".

No, surely that would be a birthday steak?

Bloody spalling Nazis - food not to bad but service in general sh*te.

Another surreal day; another sad day; another enjoyable day in its own way.

Enjoyable? Yes, of course: good company; a half-decent pie and peas in the Sandy Pate sports bar; an excellent Torquay United performance and a win. My word, that's three away victories I've seen in a fortnight. I'll not bother looking up when that last happened.

And that's the surreality of it all. That was one of best performances I've seen in a while. When Chris Hargreaves was appointed there was a range of possible outcomes for the remainder of the season; from a safe finishing position with definite promise for the future all the way through to abject and clueless submission. Had you arrived at yesterday's game blissfully unaware you'd have thought we were sailing towards the top end of that range of possibilities. But we're not. And you anticipate that so much water is yet to pass under the bridge that it's almost impossible to make sense of or draw conclusions from yesterday's game. Yet, in terms of Football League away trips, it was a fine way to go out. For however long.

That was my fifth trip to Mansfield spread over thirty-nine years. After the chance of being relegated at Bristol Rovers, Plainmoor or Exeter City, Mansfield made for an entirely ordinary place for it to eventually happen. The sort of club that is familiar enough but not one we ever think about too carefully; a town that (with all due respect) few of us would have ever considered or visited were it not for the football. Typical opponents of our club: we first faced Mansfield in the early 1930s and we've played them in everything from Division 3(S) to the Conference.

I thought our fans were tremendous yesterday. I was full of trepidation when fancy dress was discussed on another web site two or three weeks ago. At that stage most imagined we would already have been relegated and the occasion was being promoted as an opportunity for "black humour". As it happened most people yesterday were resigned yet strangely buoyant. I guess we collectively, and individually, behaved in the same way that most groups of supporters would have done in similar circumstances. An odd one to explain but the anthropology of football can be most curious. And, for the record, I was not in fancy dress.

Mansfield's fans were fine and there was an extremely friendly atmosphere in the Sandy Pate before the game. The only exception was a small group of young lads who came on the pitch afterwards and gave us the "going down" gesture. My contention is that most groups like this would, these days, applaud opposition supporters. These sadly, when given the option, made the wrong choice. I believe there was a certain difference of opinion outside the ground later but I missed this due to one of my old man's trips to the loo before the journey home.

The other surreal thing about yesterday was the oddity of watching a game that is rendered increasingly meaningless because of events elsewhere. I'm not one for following scores from other games. Nor, if I'm watching football elsewhere, do I normally check Torquay's scores other than at half-time and full-time. But, at times like these, you simply can't cocoon yourself. If Northampton scored in the 8th and 12th minutes; we all knew by the 9th and 13th minutes. That's it then.

At the end I was relieved it was over. I'll not now be travelling down for the Wycombe game. I would have done so if there'd been something "at stake". The only problem with this was starting to think in terms of the "mathematically possible" and whether this justified spending £130 on a rail ticket. "If we beat Wycombe by x and Bristol Rovers lose by y". No. It's best this way. It wouldn't have happened anyway.