In fact despite the scoreline of the Robin Park game it wasn't the best they've played this season. What with Rochdale Town taking the lead with their first and only shot of the game on 24 minutes and then shutting up shop. The Robins huffed and Maurice Lindsayed but seem to be cluttered up front as they got more and more desperate as the game slipped away from them.
The players became frustrated and Mark Evans was sent off. When one of the Robin Bastards shouted "What the fucking hell is that for?" a Rochdale fan shouted: "For saying exactly what you've just said." So fair enough. So it's one nil down, down to ten men and just five minutes to go. No problem and cue Andy "Windy" Miller to get his first goal for the club. It was no more than he deserved as he had already hit the post and had an excellent game. Thinking we've got a deserved draw I muttered to nobody in particular: "Right keep it tight and no daft mistakes" just as the Robins got the ball back from the restart, went charging down the right wing as a perfect cross was met by Ben Kay to make it 2-1. Shows what I know about football.
All that was left was for the "best midfielder in Wigan" Ryan Small... that's "best midfielder in Wigan when Ben Kay is in defence"... to go on a wonderful run and finish superbly to seal the game at 3-1. Typical Ryan Small.
"When he gets the ball he plays football"
Another 3 points that make up for the 3 taken away for the admin blunder but in adversity and all that bollocks. First Euro away next week at Holker Old Boys - should be a good 'un. Oh and there was a great big H on the centre spot as somebody had been landing helicopters on the pitch. Helicopters in Wigan WN5 - whatever next?
While one of the Robin Bastards got out the talc and amphetamines (alright more like cod liver oil tablets) for the soul do at the Casino the rest made their way home as a few were going to Spurs next day. Three of us went via the train, tube and bus via half way around England. And amazingly it all worked out fine. Well apart from a fairly awful match. Nothing happened in the first half bar a Paul Scharner shot while eveybody pottered about the pitch enjoying the sunshine. The second half was slightly better and Spurs had a good ten minutes when John Lennon (or somebody) came on and we could have snatched it with a Kapo header - does Kapo mean head in some language? Cos if it did that would have been a head header or even a Kapo Kapor. Nothing else much happened apart from:
Chatting to the Wigan-based Everton fans on the train to Manchester and watching them run to (just) catch their connection to Hull. Not easy as two of their number were wearing flip-flops!
Chatting to some old soul boys that had been where our own Terry Thomas had been
Chatting to Essex Boy (via Leigh, Bolton, England, Talksport and Lancashire) Ronnie Irani. Top fella - and told us some good tales
Buses replace tubes from Manor House and talking to the poshest black lad ever on the bus. It was like talking to a young Don Warrington. Oh and him and his mate knew more about Latics than we did.
Getting off on the High Road and trying to find a pub that would a) let us in and b) wasn't dodgy. We ended up getting some food instead. Given that the world is your plate down there and we could have cuisine from anywhere in the world we went into Greggs!
Tottenham High Road
Into the ground and into the disabled section! Don't ask but I had to put a limp on and pretend to be Ned Sharples dad! I just about got away with it. One steward even asked if I needed help. The things we'll do for a free ticket...
White Hart Lane is a great ground and really loud. Not sure what the Egyptian lads in our end waving their national flag thought of 30,000 singing "Yid Army" though.
The match was dross as earlier mentioned, we had two keepers on the bench, our wide men were dreadful while the much-maligned Titus was excellent and we got a point. Would have settled for it beforehand but on reflection in sort of felt like two points dropped as Spurs were truly awful.
Back on a bus that went past a load of my old haunts and back to Euston, quick beer in the old Jolly Gardeners where the entertainment was provided by some pitbull/staff type dog shagging a Jack Russell. Fuck knows what those puppies will be like!! A visit to the samosa shop for some jackbit and offy for some beers.
And plonk ourselves down on the train to find the most gorgeous oriental girl in the lowest cut top ever, with the most perfect breasts ever, with her long dark hair nestled on her heaving bosom sat opposite us. Sadly she seemed more interested in her ipod than us drunken oafs talking football and bollocks. Anyroad she brightened our day. Bloody beautiful. Which is more than can be said about the afternoon's match...
Think ten times nicer than this...
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