Post by Jon on Mar 13, 2009 0:26:30 GMT
This was a surprise unplanned away trip for me. I was up in Leeds on business on Monday and Tuesday. The last time I went, the M42 and M1 were awful and someone mentioned to me that M6 and M62 is the same distance and can be quicker. That just happened to put me within spitting distance of Altrincham a couple of hours before kick-off. It appeared eminently sensible for me to stop off on the way home – but I’m not sure my Mrs quite followed my logic there.
Satnav found the ground easily enough and nice safe-looking side roads opposite the ground to park up in. Got out of the car and bumped into Dave Thomas who said he’d be in the George later. Had a nose around, loaded up provisions for the journey home from the local shop and checked out the chippie before finding my way to the George where Dazgull, Cav and the usual crew of proper away fans were enjoying the cheap beer. With a long drive ahead, I settled for a coffee and some good TUFC talk.
The topic of conversation turned to Weymouth and there appeared to be some scepticism as to whether the new saviour, who one or two people knew quite a lot about, could deliver what was being mooted. Up until then I’d fallen for the story in the NLP, but was put straight and all I’ve heard about the Terras since comes as no surprise. A strange case of a delusional fantasist having his five minutes of fame.
Dave T had joined us by now and commented on how things that seem to be too good to be true usually are too good to be true – and this led onto a chat about the Roberts fiasco. DT had initially struggled to understand, as had a few of us, why people with no connection to the town or club would want to own TUFC. He didn’t rock the boat at the start – but did start digging around. Apparently Dave has files and files of stuff on Roberts that was never used. I did say I’d love to have a look through so I could write a book on it – but I think he thought I was joking. I was surprised to hear that Dave received terrible abuse for months from supporters who refused to see any bad in Roberts and accused Dave and the Herald of damaging the club with groundless moaning – which could not be further from the truth. He had made absolutely sure of his ground before publishing anything and always had the best interests of the club at heart. I said that I thought maybe some people were so desperate for a fresh start after the too-lengthy Bateson regime that they blanked out any doubts to embrace the brave new world – refusing to acknowledge a huge question mark that was right under their nose. Dave also tipped us off in the starting line-up and I then adjourned to the afore-mentioned chippie for some sustenance - £2.50 for pie and chips, and very good too.
I think I probably saw Chris Hayes as I entered the ground as I saw someone with a camera who was not Romford Kev. If I’d twigged I would have come over to say hello, Chris. I always thought you lived in West London – I obviously hadn’t worked out the difference between a surname and a place of residence. I shouldn’t take the kicking balls at you too personally. Alty indulged in some vigorous pre-match shooting practice and balls were slamming into the away terrace with force incessantly, bits of wood and dried paint were flying everywhere when they slammed into the advertising boards and I think a couple even ended up in the net. I was surprised that the home team warmed up at the away end and vice versa, but I suppose Alty couldn’t afford to suffer too many casualties amongst their own fans and so chose to attempt to maim the away fans instead.
I spotted TUFC01 and Chipnicker1 coming into the ground and was glad that they came and stood with me – what pleasant company to enjoy a game with (although I'd better add that Chelston and Stuart are equally pleasant company or I might get into trouble). Two minutes before kick-off, Paul Bastard scuttled round to his position behind the goal right on cue. I had a quick chat with him after the game. He lives five minutes’ walk from the ground but had been stuck in a meeting in London, taken the train to Stockport and bombed straight to the game just in time. He didn’t say he’d been home to change, but was resplendent in his usual yellow and blue complete with bobble hat. I had visions of him chairing a high-powered executive city meeting dressed as only he can – the man is a legend.
I won’t go into details on the game – three points is the main thing. We started really brightly with Greeny running them ragged at the start, but we went off the boil a bit and Alty were pressing hard at the end when Wayno’s goal was probably against the run of play. Cav had said in the pub before the game that all Wayno’s goals had been match winners. Let’s hope he scores at Wembley. It did seem to me that the players were genuinely grateful for our support at the end. I know it’s a cliché to clap the away fans, but they did look like they meant it and I know Bucks really appreciates the away support so maybe that rubs off on the players.
Nice easy journey home – don’t know if it would have seemed so nice without the late winner though. CD changer loaded up, empty roads and I was home by 1.15. Happy days.
Satnav found the ground easily enough and nice safe-looking side roads opposite the ground to park up in. Got out of the car and bumped into Dave Thomas who said he’d be in the George later. Had a nose around, loaded up provisions for the journey home from the local shop and checked out the chippie before finding my way to the George where Dazgull, Cav and the usual crew of proper away fans were enjoying the cheap beer. With a long drive ahead, I settled for a coffee and some good TUFC talk.
The topic of conversation turned to Weymouth and there appeared to be some scepticism as to whether the new saviour, who one or two people knew quite a lot about, could deliver what was being mooted. Up until then I’d fallen for the story in the NLP, but was put straight and all I’ve heard about the Terras since comes as no surprise. A strange case of a delusional fantasist having his five minutes of fame.
Dave T had joined us by now and commented on how things that seem to be too good to be true usually are too good to be true – and this led onto a chat about the Roberts fiasco. DT had initially struggled to understand, as had a few of us, why people with no connection to the town or club would want to own TUFC. He didn’t rock the boat at the start – but did start digging around. Apparently Dave has files and files of stuff on Roberts that was never used. I did say I’d love to have a look through so I could write a book on it – but I think he thought I was joking. I was surprised to hear that Dave received terrible abuse for months from supporters who refused to see any bad in Roberts and accused Dave and the Herald of damaging the club with groundless moaning – which could not be further from the truth. He had made absolutely sure of his ground before publishing anything and always had the best interests of the club at heart. I said that I thought maybe some people were so desperate for a fresh start after the too-lengthy Bateson regime that they blanked out any doubts to embrace the brave new world – refusing to acknowledge a huge question mark that was right under their nose. Dave also tipped us off in the starting line-up and I then adjourned to the afore-mentioned chippie for some sustenance - £2.50 for pie and chips, and very good too.
I think I probably saw Chris Hayes as I entered the ground as I saw someone with a camera who was not Romford Kev. If I’d twigged I would have come over to say hello, Chris. I always thought you lived in West London – I obviously hadn’t worked out the difference between a surname and a place of residence. I shouldn’t take the kicking balls at you too personally. Alty indulged in some vigorous pre-match shooting practice and balls were slamming into the away terrace with force incessantly, bits of wood and dried paint were flying everywhere when they slammed into the advertising boards and I think a couple even ended up in the net. I was surprised that the home team warmed up at the away end and vice versa, but I suppose Alty couldn’t afford to suffer too many casualties amongst their own fans and so chose to attempt to maim the away fans instead.
I spotted TUFC01 and Chipnicker1 coming into the ground and was glad that they came and stood with me – what pleasant company to enjoy a game with (although I'd better add that Chelston and Stuart are equally pleasant company or I might get into trouble). Two minutes before kick-off, Paul Bastard scuttled round to his position behind the goal right on cue. I had a quick chat with him after the game. He lives five minutes’ walk from the ground but had been stuck in a meeting in London, taken the train to Stockport and bombed straight to the game just in time. He didn’t say he’d been home to change, but was resplendent in his usual yellow and blue complete with bobble hat. I had visions of him chairing a high-powered executive city meeting dressed as only he can – the man is a legend.
I won’t go into details on the game – three points is the main thing. We started really brightly with Greeny running them ragged at the start, but we went off the boil a bit and Alty were pressing hard at the end when Wayno’s goal was probably against the run of play. Cav had said in the pub before the game that all Wayno’s goals had been match winners. Let’s hope he scores at Wembley. It did seem to me that the players were genuinely grateful for our support at the end. I know it’s a cliché to clap the away fans, but they did look like they meant it and I know Bucks really appreciates the away support so maybe that rubs off on the players.
Nice easy journey home – don’t know if it would have seemed so nice without the late winner though. CD changer loaded up, empty roads and I was home by 1.15. Happy days.
Team: Bevan.
