Sunday, May 14, 2006

Just sitting in the study listening to some of Steve Lawson's new album which is due out shortly and 3 tracks available for sneak previews on myspace. I find Steve's mussic very ambient and a great help when travelling early mornings each day to London from Kings Lynn - helps cut out carriage noise and enable me to sleep - plus gives you feel good feeling.

So back to yesterday. Sadly not at the game - impossible to go to football these days on a Saturday as I take Helen out for the afternoon. Yesterday was no exception so despite being one of the most important afternoons of the year I was in a coffee shop rather than the Millenium Stadium or in front of the TV. Original plan had been to record the game and then watch it without knowing the score. However, the radio was on in the cafe and being in London kept giving the update (presumably as West Ham winning). But I was home in time to see extra time, penalties and wild celebrations. My own celebration was fittingly with a bottle of red wine, kindly supplied to us at Christmas by our Chelsea fanatic neighbours - the perfect use for it!

I felt sorry for the West Ham fans to have been so close and yet so far, and the blue half of Merseyside who must be getting sick of Liverpool comebacks. I had been reminded yesterday morning of Stuart McCall's epic final in 1989 when he twice brought Everton back level with Liverpool - I didn't expect Steven Gerrard to be doing the same in the afternoon. Well at least it saved Rev J Davies the embarrassment of trying to fit into his West Ham colour football top from his school days - John that was over 25 years ago - throw it out!

The game reminded me of one of the big highs and lows I can remember at a match - Wimbledon vs Liverpool in the League Cup - a cold night at Selhurst Park. We had gone a goal down very early, and equalised in injury time via a form of rugby scrum that resulted in the ball being forced into the net. The Liverpool fans were ecstatic having sat through 90 minutes of frustration. We then won a penalty in extra time, only for John Barnes to miss. And at about 11pm we lost in the penalty shoot out and had to endure the Crazy Gang go mad. One can never take winning for granted.

You're telling me...I still haven't got over being at Wembley in 1988...

Having Vinnie Jones hurl abuse at me and my companion (I was only 17 - what a nice guy eh?), rounded off a truly miserable day.
I got it on, I just can't get it off now. Or move my arms or legs.
I try to forget 1988 - quickest I've ever got home from Wembley - back home in South London by 6pm.

Don't worry John, they say you get smaller as you get older so sooner or later it will be the perfect fit!
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