Time For Football,Time To Be Sully Again

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well it's Wednesday around six and I'm at the Sully Sports FC pitch to watch their match against the Cardiff Corinthians.

I remember seeing the Corinthians years before, in a match against Penybont FC (or as it was pre merger with Bridgend Town FC Bryntirion AFC).The capital side were fighting relegation, which they were eventually unsuccessful in, and in this particular game they were in the first half constantly under pressure yet by the break it was still goaless. Come second half they had a free kick just outside the box. The guy curled it into the net. Football can do that. Unfortunately the pressure told and they lost by three, possibly four to one.

I'd learnt from my first experience visiting the ground a few weeks back. Firstly it didn't matter that it was the end of August, the sky was blue and the sun shining. The pitch is by the sea so you wear a jumper.

The second was that if you want to make sure you watch all the game get your food before not at half time. So first thing I did was to go to the stall.

"What would you like?" asked the lady

"Small portion of chips....and a coke"

"Regular or diet?"

"Well as I'm having chips....... diet"

And she smiled. Having got the joke.

We chatted. I'd explained that I was here as I'd recently moved into the area and saw that it was on. "Ah" she said. "Someone rang up a few weeks back and asked how much was it to get in for the game against Pentwyn"

Pencoed actually was the thought in my head......that person being me.

Chips were nice

As I walked towards the ground I saw the Corinthians training. That moment it was where they raise a leg and move it in a circular direction apparently so that they could as instructed "feel the groin". A rare moment where this could be done in public without a police response.

The Corries in training

Of course as it was just my second visit to the ground not all mysteries were solved. I still don't know the answer to the question as I was eating my chips ready for the game to begin....

What is this?

Oh and of course as always I'm claim to be the first person to read a Bruce Chatwin book during the break in a Welsh football game.



There was a notable bright sun for most of the game to the right of where I was spectating which might affect the players. Assumed then that Sully won the toss as they weren't facing it first half.

Yes everybody Wales has sun

As I was awaiting for the kick off the manager and his enforcer number two were walking behind me. All I could hear the enforcer say was that someone had quit. Few things more intriguing than catching half a conversation.

For the Cardiff management team though there was no ambiguity.

"Two minutes to get blowing!!!" Whatever that means.

So the match began.

For a moment you can avoid the match and just look at the sea

It wasn't that long (about six minutes) when there was a goal. The Sully number 7 got the ball bypassed the defender and scored. The Cardiff management seemed to blame the defending, but there seemed to be skill in that goal as well. Anyway one nil Sully.

The Management

For most of the half the teams were relatively equal. Cardiff hit the post once. It seemed that by the break it was going to be Sully in the lead. Then however a Corries player got pushed in the box. Referee immediately awarded a penalty. The man by me was unimpressed and shouted at the manager that it didn't need much pressure for the Cardiff player to fall down. The manager, angry at the notion his team could be full of wussies responded by saying the felled player was "powerful". Of course implying the Sully player that tackled his man was more stronger.

It was "Zak " who had to take the penalty. He was under pressure. Not just from his team but by the boy being held by his relative nearby. Dad was playing for Cardiff so he knew what team to support.

"Score a goal Zak"

"Score a goal Zak".

Don't know whether Zak could hear him. Probably best not. For he would then know the weight of a child's hope and innocence rested on his shoulders. The reality of a cruel world would have been faced by one so young.

"Score a goal Zak"

Zak versus the Sully goalkeeper aka the man in radioactive orange.

"Score a goal Zak"

Thankfully for those of us who believe in childhood hope Zak scored. Of course it was not enough.

"Score a goal Dad"

"Score a goal Dad"

Dad didn't score. No one for the rest of the half did. As it happened it didn't matter. There was always the second half for him to score and besides, the boy was off with his Nan to the swings.

Kids. Fickle huh?

1-1 then. The team most clearly agitated at half time was Sully. The enforcer number two demanded an all out attack in the first ten minutes. Words like "Smash" and "bang" were used. It was as if they were planning a bank robbery.

As it happens in the second half  this attack didn't happen. Basically everything seemed equal until about the last twenty minutes. It was then that the Sully bank raid happened. Attack after attack was thwarted or the final shot was just not there. The Cardiff management were getting more frenzied.



Incidentally I learnt that a jumper was of no use. It was getting colder. Knee buckingly colder. Coat next time.



With about seven or so minutes to go the ball fell to the Sully number 10 just outside the Corries box. He shot. I think it was deflected. It didn't matter. It was a goal. 2-1 Sully.

That was how it finished. To be fair because of that last twenty minutes Sully deserved the victory.

I left feeling cold, in need of a cup of tea but having enjoyed a good game.

Until the next time.

Why Going To Pay TV Would Be A Disaster For Welsh Top Club Rugby But A Shrug For Most Welsh Viewers Without Scarlet Fever

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I am, I will admit, not the best person to chat about Welsh club rugby being a) English and b) whose first sport will always be football c) there are far better and more well informed bloggers on rugby than I'll ever be (I would recommend for example https://thevietgwent.wordpress.com) . However regular readers will know that for me the fact that football is first doesn't mean a dislike of what comes second.

However I was moved to go on Twitter when a Wales Online article suggested that in the forthcoming TV negotiations all matches in the Pro 14 competition might go to Pay TV. This might be just the PRO 14 people using this tactic as a threat to get more money from the non Pay TV broadcasters. But the possibility has to be taken seriously and therefore so have the consequences.

On Twitter there were two camps to this. One (which I'm in) is that it will be a disaster for Welsh Top Club rugby. The other was that those people who watch the two matches a week on non Pay TV should get off their backsides and go to the games instead. These people forget that free to air television is not free. The viewer pays for Welsh rugby games through the licence fee (BBC) or the cost of ads (S4C). It shows a contempt for the non Pay TV customer to forget that.

Everything I'm going to say next will in terms of support mainly exclude the Scarlets franchise. In terms of core support the seeming exception to this mistake that was the creation of the top 4 Welsh teams (though even they are apparently supposed to cover North Wales, from which I say....what?)

The trouble as I see it lays in the four club you cannot be relegated structure of the top tier of Welsh teams. I've discussed before how the regional spread in its creation in 2001 meant that the catchment regions included areas that were not emotionally linked to them unlike football. Consequently support is relatively low (I'm told it's growing but all I see generally are gaps in the grounds) and definitely insecure. Compare it to Cardiff and Swansea City football clubs and the difference is not only clear but also embarrassing.

Pay TV supporters partly attribute this to Free to Air channels. This is rubbish. Other Free To Air sport gets large crowds (BBC FA Cup football for example) but there needs to be that certain something that motivates people from their armchairs to actually going to a televised event, and taken as a whole top tier Welsh rugby has not been able to do that.

I know people in the South Wales Valleys who regularly go to Cardiff City home games. I have never met anybody from there who has regularly gone to Cardiff Blues games. In terms of Welsh rugby local teams get local support. Welsh rugby is not the NFL.

Also the fact that these clubs cannot be relegated meant that, taking it's total performance since 2001 (there will always be exceptions) there are moments of stagnation.

Supporters of Pay TV will say that sport is a business and there should no room for sentiment. But even judged on that basis I've always understood that the first rule of business is know your market. Taken as a whole the clubs have failed in this, and they cannot blame free to air TV.

The Newport/Gwent Dragons it should also be noted have been taken over by the Welsh Rugby Union because of financial issues.

With this insecure support the armchair viewer might be irritated initially if the games went to Pay TV but will ultimately go on with his/her life. Crucially I don't believe (unlike football or say English rugby club supporters) it will motivate the armchair fans to get a SKY/BT subscription. S4C will just show more matches from the lower tiers of Welsh rugby (which are exciting, even if their supporters were described to me as " a few men and his dog").

Consequentially out of sight out of mind with the consequent danger of death through neglect.

No change (and probable decline) in people attending. Low audience numbers.Less children will watch, and as a consequence in years to come the national team will suffer as the young will move towards other interests (indeed like England cricket the stage will be reached where most people will not be able to name most of the team).

Top four Welsh live rugby on Pay TV only will be a digital suicide note.

Until the next time.

The Insomnia Post

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well at time of writing it's 4:45am in the morning. I've been awake since 4:35am. An improvement on the previous days but still too early. Insomnia bites again.

I get this from time to time in batches. It seems somehow worse this time. I sleep deeply through the night but then my eyes start to awake and cannot get back to dreamworld. Of course though, as I've said before you're not completely awake. Half asleep half awake. Not so much in the land of nod as zombieland.

Make a cup of tea. I need a cup of tea. A cup of tea is the nectar for me. All this world of coffee we're subjected to nowadays doesn't hide the fact that tea is what reaches me more.

I miss not being able to access TV sport channels because the internet stream is not fast enough. Not just because I miss watching my favourite teams but also sport is the perfect programme for the insomniac. A goal or a try does not require much concentration. Most other TV, whether catch up or not, doesn't really work for you (there are exceptions - you know my support for Professor T).

So instead the laptop has become my friend. I'm able first to look at the news headlines. Again today the world has been shaken by the actions of fat men with dodgy hairstyles, Brexit is the road sign to the cliff edge that the Conservatives appear to press the accelerator towards and Wales is just "and Wales" to the UK media.....so no change there then.

And then there's twitter and other stuff to wallow through. Something to do. Leaving aside my zombieworld state can't do anything like vacuuming in case I wake up wife/daughter....my excuse anyway.

It goes without saying during this latest batch that wife/daughter are having no problems with their sleep. They are sleeping not so much like logs as forests. They could go through alarm clocks, so for the moment that alarm clock is the not wideawake but awake one that is me.

It also goes without saying neither are the most sympathetic when sleep does catch up with me and I cannot control having an unwanted siesta sometime between eleven and two. But you have to have it. All of a sudden the urge for a nap overwhelms. So the sun is shining. outside those working nightshifts the world seems to be doing it's business whilst there's me having a nap.

What to do? I've tried sleeping late. A couple of days ago I deliberately went to bed at half past midnight. I woke up at nine minutes past three. Yesterday I went to bed at half past ten, before wife and (don't forget) daughter on summer holidays. Waking four thirty five is better....but no cure.

Both wife and my mother (!) suggest sleeping pills. Don't like it at all. If only because I feel it'll make my sleep patterns more tangled than they already are.

If my previous history is any guide then there will be a moment when it will just go. Mind you I'm not really sure when this one will finish though.

Until the next time.

The Batsman, The Penguin......And Other Cricket Moments

Hello there, Hope you're feeling well today.

Me? Let's just say I've started writing this at 4:02am on a bank holiday Monday morning. Insomnia still rules.

But let's talk about yesterday and when hunting for a thing to do discovered that close to where we are renting at the moment there was going to be a cricket match near where I live. No flashy pyrotechnics and music of the twenty twenty. Just an amateur friendly between a few teams to while away the warm British summer Sunday. For once the cliché became reality.

The home team was the Barry Wanderers Cricket Club, who apparently were living up to their name given that we were in the nearby village of Sully and in a late change the I suppose showbiz divas of South East Wales Cricket that is Barry West End.

And just to explain how good the weather was. Before I took my spot I photographed this of the nearby sea.

Remember this is South Wales Not The South of France

I walked to the spot and took my place.

Third tree from the right

So the classic British summer scene was in place.

The other of course being pouring rain

Before I chat about the game properly I should mention that brought this with me for the tea interval.

William Faulkner - Go Down,Moses

Not only will I claim to be the first man to bring a William Faulkner novel to a cricket game but you'll note that amongst the Batsmen there's a Penguin (and if you think I brought this book down specifically for this moment......well yes).

The Wanderers were the first to bat in this forty over game. Leaving the divas of Barry West End to field. There was motivational noises of encouragement throughout. Plus the occasional other comment.

"The ball's heavier than when I was in France for the holiday."

"Well that's French cricket" (Bet he voted for Brexit).

Action came early. The first wicket was caught and bowled for six. 6-1

More encouragement "Go on Rees!" (or is that "Go on Rhys!"?) . As he was fielding.

It has to be said that the teams consisted of men with a wide age range. This is a good thing. It also explained this remark.

"He looks like Brian Close". It was a statement that aged the speaker. And as I understood it it aged me as well.

After the first overs by the fast bowlers of the team along came the spinners, including "the Indian George Clooney" that was shouted to him by his team mates. How this would make him bowl better I couldn't say.

At the other end was a big balding guy.....who was rather good. This I mentioned to the fielder who'd moved to the position near where I was.

To Wait For One Ball In A Cricket Game Hoping You Won't Drop It

The guy in the picture (who I think was called Andy - more of him later) tells me that the bowlers name was Des and he was a good all rounder. Proven in that he'd got the second Wanderers wicket bowled. 56-2.

Now for insect moments. Given that it was a hot summer's day they were all likely to come out including the ahh....




and the "get it off me!"




Because of where they were situated there were nearby some generators surrounded by a fence. Invariably a shot went into this.

And of course it was locked. No matter. "Andy" was on hand with a hosepipe and was able to move the ball towards him so he could reach it. Cue the jokes which I'll just leave to your imagination.

A ball is caught 91-3.

Our friend Andy then bowls. Another ball is caught. 123-4.

A further wicket as a ball is flicked stylishly......straight to the grateful hands of the fielder 136-5.

Two further wickets tumble. It's 163 for 7. However the score has been ticking along and in the last few overs the Wanderers move up a gear with boundaries all over the place.

The innings finishes at 213 for 7. Unsure how to call this. But for an interlude let's see another picture of the sea by Sully.

But now back to the game.

And you'll notice that I've taken a different position

The West End innings commences. The first bowler for the Wanderers is a young man called Mark. Shouts of "Marco" go around the pitch and, most surprisingly of all Roman emperor "Marcus Aurelius"The home team then winning the battle of team banter. Going all cultural and BBC4 on us.

Quick aside: The game revealed I needed a new pair of trainers.

A score is speedily built up. 38 when the first wicket is bowled. Cue our friend Andy to take centre stage.

"Take it easy on a grumbling Tummy". Probably the most confusing and disturbing statement of the afternoon is then shouted out.

Apart from when stalled by a couple of Wanderers spinners (of which I'll come back to later) our friend Andy and his partner decide it's time for Barry West End Showtime. Boundaries occur thick and fast and with ease. Including.....

Boys were asked to find the ball somewhere behind those trees.

They played on with the spare balls in the table in the clubhouse....at that moment it meant there was two balls left.

Our friend Andy had a missed run out and a shot that was skied upwards but not caught. Another ball went through the wicketkeeper ...4 byes. Luck it would appear was with our friend Andy.

(A quick aside the Wanderers captain was the wicket keeper. During the match he changed his position so that someone else took that spot. A brave thing to have done)

The score moved to 159 for one. The encouragement and geeing up by the Wanderers team seemed lukewarm. There could only be one result....until.....our friend Andy gets caught out.

His partner continues in the showtime mode. But he tries for a sweep shot and like Dick Van Dyke's cockney accent misses. Bowled. 180 for three.

Then another wicket. 180 for four.....you don't think?

A man called Timmo is brought on to bowl and gets a wicket. Bringing on "Father Christmas" was apparently the answer. 190 for five. You remember the two spinners who halted the onward march of the early order batsman for the West End? Their work has come back to bite the divas on the backside. As there were just two overs left.

Down to the wire

Rees (or is it Rhys?) is bowled. 198 for six. Two overs become one and one over becomes too much thanks to Wanderers tight bowling and fielding. They were tired when they appeared losing but the prospect for victory motivated them.

202 for six. Wanderers win

It was free incidentally and certainly enjoyable. If I can watch another match this season I will.

Thankyou Barry Wanderers Cricket Club and Barry West End Cricket Club. It was a good, enjoyable summer fun.

Until the next time.

In Which Insomnia Leads Me To That Fight,Hilary Clinton,Alistair Cooke and Leanne Wood....but Not West Ham

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

It's 3:45am on a Sunday morning....and I still have insomnia.

Wife's asleep. She'll be asleep for hours yet. Lucky her. I'm awake....and I don't know what to do.

You might ask why don't I watch that Flemish show Professor T that I mentioned last week when I had the same problem. Trouble is, I watched it yesterday (for the record though I am officially a fan) when I woke up at 4:15am.

Perhaps I should watch Match Of The Day which I recorded as was on the afternoon/evening shift at work yesterday? All depends what the West Ham result was. Check my tablet for the score...

Not watching Match Of The Day.

So armed with a cup of tea...so want that cup of tea......find myself on Twitter. In the beginning it seems to be dominated by that fight between Floyd Mayweather and Conor Mcgregor. Had no intention of watching it even if it wasn't being shown on Rupert Murdoch's SKY (which I don't have). I've never understood pay per view for boxing anyway. Doesn't matter that they'll show all the fights on the card if the main bout ends very early you feel cheated.

The fight ended with the professional boxer winning the boxing match against the non professional boxer. Big deal.

So after that scrolled down my Twitter timeline until I stopped at an article where Shirley Williams was explaining how Hilary Clinton helped her out during a edition of BBC Radio 4's Woman's Hour. In my zombie like state I make two actions.

1) Note to see whether I can get a copy of her autobiography Hard Choices from the library.

2) Have a listen to this Woman's Hour programme (broadcast in 2014 when she was promoting said book).

Because it occurred to me that nothing has boosted the likelihood of a female president of the United States in my lifetime more than the consequences of not voting her in last year. Perhaps as the US,North Korea and possibly the UK if Boris Johnson becomes Prime Minister shows, the gender that should be discriminated against in politics are fat men with dodgy hairstyles.

But I don't get to Woman's Hour. Having typed her name in the BBC Iplayer Radio app. I'm distracted by a Letter From America programme about her and listen to that instead.

Now for those too young to be aware of it Letter From America was a 15 minute radio programme where Alistair Cooke amiably chats about the issues of the day, whether personal to him or relevant to the entire world from, surprise, surprise, America. It ran from 1936 to 2004.

In this particular programme, broadcast in 1996, when Bill Clinton was about to seek reelection as President, was about the attacks on her not fulfilling the position of First Lady by opposition Republicans who considered the role to be that of dutiful female behind the President rather than a person with opinions that should be spoken of Interestingly Cooke explains how the first Lady sought a loan to keep the United States afloat with a foreign power without her husband's knowledge.

That lady, Cooke then points out with a knowledge of American history greater it appears than right wing Republicans, was Abigail Adams, wife of the second president of the United States (and who incidentally was against slavery). He also discussed Eleanor Roosevelt as well with passing references to Rosalyn Carter and Nancy Reagan. All ladies with opinions and husbands who were man enough to listen to them.

(Two points as an aside. Firstly listening to your wife doesn't mean you're a weak man. Secondly my wife always says I don't listen, though to be fair to me it's either when I've returned from the afternoon/evening shift at work....or when I'm watching sports)

The point is that it reminded me that throughout her career Hilary Clinton has been subjected to one attack or another throughout her career. Whether it was Whitewater or Benghazi or whatever the only thing that ever stuck was her use of emails and that was it. Yet the relentless attacks meant that the qualified candidate was beaten by a tangerine nightmare.

It also made me wonder whether in a smaller way Leanne Wood the leader of Plaid Cymru, the party I support is experiencing something similar. Whether it's a party colleague saying he would like to be leader should she step down (the caveat not being mentioned in the headlines) or a manic reaction from right wingers over a tweet. This all seems to be a similar reaction to when a woman threatens the establishment "status quo".

Amazing where passing the time because of insomnia leads you to.

I'd rather have a full night's sleep though.

Until the next time.

Welsh Labour Arrogance: Maesteg Update

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Leaving aside the fact that I still work there, I've been finding that, despite the fact that I live in the Vale of Glamorgan and wish possibly in the future to move to Treorchy, that Bridgend still seems to be calling me back in one way or another in an unexpected manner.

On Thursday I received on Twitter a rumour with regard to Bridgend. Won't say what that rumour was because I couldn't substantiate it (except that it's nothing to do with Ford) but whilst looking into this I stumbled on the latest news regarding Maesteg Indoor market.

I originally chatted about this on a post in October last year. But to summarise briefly Maesteg Town hall is used amongst other things as a stage venue with an indoor market at the basement. Apparently it needs substantial repairs. Bridgend Labour council's proposal is to create a "cultural hub" (you can see the dead hand of a marketing consultant there) with the merger of two current libraries in the area to be situated where the indoor market is currently situated.

In summary. After 135 years of service to the Maesteg community Bridgend Labour Council were going to close down the market.

Since then and despite a valiant effort to save their site. The stall holders and the workers there have been hampered by a perception from the people in the town that the closure could not be stopped, when this was not necessarily the case. Consequently business reduced and profits tumbled. Most businesses have either relocated or closed down. Amongst those relocating are the Maesteg Animal Welfare Society (MAWS) stall where as I've mentioned before I've bought a wide range of books at great value .

There will, according to the report I read,  be one stallholder left by the end of next month. So unless a miracle of biblical proportions occurs Bridgend Labour Council would have won.

In terms of villains winning it's on a par with Brexit and President Trump.

And this vision of a "cultural hub" is, as I've mentioned before, typical Welsh Labour and very typical Bridgend Labour Council. Concentrate on some grandiose plan and seemingly do hardly anything towards the fundamental problems the area has. I would bet that if they were asked whether they just wanted repairs done to the site but nothing fancy otherwise actioned (which I suspect would cost less) and any extra money improving say, education, then the people of Maesteg would be happy enough. But no, Bridgend Labour council knows best. They want a "cultural hub" and a "cultural hub" it will be. And if Bridgend LABOUR has to be cruel and ruthless in a very Tory manner to small businesses to get their wish then so be it.

Potentially though this (I will assume) victory could be hollow. The council wish to use EU money that they have applied for but are not certain they will get. Throughout this whole issue I've not read anywhere of a "Plan B" should their application be rejected. There seems to have been an arrogant assumption that it would be accepted and they'll get the cash.

But what if their application is refused? What then? Let's assume that Plan B doesn't exist. What will happen to the town hall? Is it just going to rot to death? Will it be the first in Maesteg to follow a downhill spiral like the urban mess the council have made to Bridgend Town?

If there is no Plan B then Bridgend Labour Council have acted as if they have just made an agreed offer on a house and then discovered they can't afford a mortgage. For arrogance, cruelty, ruthlessness add incompetence as well.

Until the next time.

Cecelia Ahern vs Marian Keyes.....Not Even Close

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Regular readers of this blog will know that since I've joined the library service (staring with the one in Sully) since moving out of Bridgend to the Vale of Glamorgan I've started on an attempt to read every "relevant" adult book there (when I say relevant I mean not reading books that would be stupid for me to open, such as keeping dogs when I have a phobia of the domestic wolves).

However when it comes to fiction it's simple. I intend to read every book unless it's in large print. Which is the reason why as a fifty three year old man the Cecelia Ahern novel How To Fall In Love comes into my hands.

Unlike most fifty three year old men reading Cecelia Ahern for the first time I do have a writer to compare her with. The same regular readers will know that I've read books by Marian Keyes (I won't bore you with how here but if you click Marian Keyes on the labels tag things will be explained). On the surface to compare both writers seem fair. They after all female Irish writers marketed as chick lit.

But...

Before the but I should acknowledge that Cecelia Ahern came to this comparison with two main disadvantages. One is that I'm a fan of Marian Keyes. It's my belief that she is a far more important writer than the chick lit covers do her credit for. I suspect that she'll be one of those authors though popular in her lifetime literary critics will only "discover" decades after her death.

The other disadvantage is that I've read three Marian Keyes books and this was my first by Cecelia Ahern, so that does need to be noted.

So you should not be surprised that when I finished I still felt that Marian Keyes is better.

But (back to that) what was a surprise is how much I actually hated the Ahern novel. In fact a quarter of the way through was seriously considering breaking " the reader's code" (that follows the Mastermind principle that once a book is opened "I've started so I'll Finish").

From the beginning it's badly written. No. Very badly written. So many I's in the first chapter for example an English teacher would have thrown it out if produced as homework. But here it is in black and white assaulting my eyes with it's awfulness. Marian Keyes on the other hand can simply write in a style that perhaps is best described as hope mixed with cynicism and humour. (Don't look for any humour in the Ahern, trust me on that).

Sometimes as a reader you don't notice bad writing if a good tale is being told. Not here. Never Fall In Love is basically a meandering journey into a coma with a few jolts along the way.You had a good idea from the cover what you were going to expect. As for the characters...I didn't really care. I'd challenge anyone to read a Marian Keyes book and say they were bored.

Ahern's novel is set in Ireland, mainly Dublin. But really it was so bland you could easily transfer it to anywhere you think of. Never been to Ireland, let alone Dublin, but you feel instantly that you're there in the Marian Keyes books I've read. If somebody tried to film the Ahern it would be a made for TV movie set probably in Boston that you find after NCIS on a weekday afternoon. For Keyes I suspect a RTE/BBC co production would appear to be the most suitable.

So what can I say? Next time you're thinking of reading a Cecelia Ahern book read Marian Keyes first. That way you can say you've read quality.

Incidentally the latest library book I've borrowed is.....

Bruce Chatwin - In Patagonia

One of those books I've been meaning to read for a while but never got round to it. Now it's time has come.

Until the next time.

Christmas Has....Unfortunatly....Arrived Already

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Yesterday was working the afternoon evening shift so was driving along from Sully in the Vale of Glamorgan to Bridgend. It's a journey which takes about forty minutes and it's OK enough. Though as I'm a cautious man normally allow myself fifteen minutes extra in case the unexpected occurs. (What it also does incidentally is give me a little bit of reading time before starting work).

Going to work on the afternoon/evening shift is a relatively calming experience because you're outside of the rush hour. For the most part the road I use is the A48 from Cardiff to Bridgend as what you're looking at here are fields, and more fields and even more fields. Though perhaps ominously along this route now are large signs announcing that the land has been purchased by so and so housebuilder. Something that bothers me as I suspect the houses being built are not for the people who truly need it. Anyway that's an issue for another day.

There are a few pub/restaurants along this route and at this moment the majority of them seems to be promoting this idea of kids lunches for a quid (you wonder why there's childhood obesity when kids can gorge themselves to the limit on what their stomachs and their parents' patience will allow). This time however was passing a particular pub/restaurant on the corner of an adjacent road.

This place in the seventeen years I've used this road was a pub/restaurant, a fish restaurant (which I thought was a one man operation until I saw a branch in Essex) something else which I've forgotten and now a pub/restaurant again. It's also in a relatively isolated spot, which presumably means they have to advertise deals/events as early as possible.

Yesterday however the part of the sign I caught was promoting "Christmas Day Meals".

And my thought was......kill me now.

Now regular readers will know that the older I get the more pre ghosts Scrooge like I am towards Christmas. Starting with the minor point that I'm an atheist. But the biggest thing I hate about the festive (ha!) season is the way that it seems to start before December. I get December/January for New Year. I accept that. But my mind wants to put blinkers on from January third until the thirtieth of November yet with every year there seems to be an attempt my mental barriers and go "Ho Ho Ho!" earlier. Every fabric of my being wants to shout "Bah humbug!" and run away.

This is August! Summer! (Or what constitutes for summer nowadays). Santa is already trying to get his claws into me already.

Mentioned this to my wife on return from work. "How much is it?" came the response. Given to be fair, that she does most of the Christmas cooking. Especially in the past few years when I've worked on Christmas day (that being the greatest excuse for not getting involved).

Power of advertising indeed.

Until the next time.

Perhaps The Welsh Should Be Less Nice Part Two: Billy Bragg And Jerusalem

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

When I was living in Thurrock Essex in the late nineties and my now wife was living in Cardiff whilst courting we had a long distance relationship. When she came down by train the last part of the journey was when I drove her to my home along the A13. This road was, at the time, for sheer misery of traffic the worst I knew.

Years later, now married and living in Wales. We discovered by accident that Billy Bragg had took the tune of Route 66 and adapted it to apply to the A13. It became instantly one of our favourite records as it took us back.

So it was a disappointment to hear on Twitter that in the Green Man Festival....in Wales....Billy Bragg chose to sing William Blake's Jerusalem.

Now it's important to begin by saying that I wasn't at the Green Man Festival and I'm not going to pretend I was. What has bothered me though is that at least on Twitter he seemed surprised by the reaction to it in Wales.

In Wales William Blake's Jerusalem is seen as an anthem to English arrogance. It doesn't matter whether that's fair or not, that is how it's perceived. Context is everything. For him to sing such a tune in Wales illustrates in another example that perhaps the Welsh should be less nice and like the Irish or the Scots assert themselves more. For whether consciously or not he didn't consider this context of singing an English anthem in a music festival in Wales to be of any issue.

In response to the criticism he received he queried whether it would have been appropriate to sing "A New England" in Wales. It misses the point of the criticism. What he should do when he next performs in England is to sing "Les Marseillaies" or "Deutschland Uber Alles". Perhaps then he would understand how context is everything.

He also queries rhetorically whether Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau should be sung in Twickenham. The answer is of course yes. In the same way that Jerusalem should be sung in the Millenium Stadium. Because in sporting events fans sing the songs of their team.

Now that I've thought about it properly Billy Bragg should when he next performs in England sing Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau and await the reaction to that. I suspect that it won't be favourable. And why should it? Context is everything.

Ignorance of your audience is not a crime. But in Billy Bragg it's disappointing. It is perhaps a foretaste of any Jeremy Corbyn government. Hope then realisation that in reality for the Welsh and those who live here not to be treated as "and Wales" in any context just simply requires full independence.

Whether William Blake's lyrics are "progressive" as he claims is of no relevance under these circumstances. Not only is it perceived as an anthem to English arrogance but even if the lyrics are as he states then it would appear given the imagery that always surrounds it of the English flags and rolling hills that it's been taken over by the English right wing as well. If he wants to take it back to make it relevant for everyone all well and good.....it just should be done in England.

Until the next time.

Brian Aldiss. Two Examples Of What A Great Writer He Was

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Barkingside is near Ilford. It's in that area where Essex melds with East London. I won't say there is anything out of the ordinary about the place, It was when I was a teenager a place which bathed in its suburbia and was proud of it.

As a teenage boy though there was one building that was the exception to that normality. The library. It was large and circular. I loved wandering around the place. A lot of my reading education was nurtured there.

One of the books I took out of the library was The Brightfount Diaries. About life in a provincial bookshop in the fifties. Loved it. Knew what I wanted to be in life. A bookseller.

As is almost always the way things moved in my life in a completely different direction. But I never forgot the book or the effect it had on me. Tried in vain to get a copy many years later. The price however wasn't right. Stunningly high since it was no longer printed but obviously had the same effect on people as it had on me. It's resale value reflected the memories.

A few years back I finally got a copy. And did what I rarely do nowadays which is to reread a book. The irony though was that it was an ebook. One of the reasons why bookselling is no longer what it was in the nineteen fifties. I'm happy to say that I did not finish it disappointed, though I'd admit feeling more bittersweet given bookselling today.

Example two concerns the fantasy genre. I like Science Fiction, Am interested in the idea of parallel worlds. But the glories of different world fantasy novels have passed me by. Personally I find them indulgent pieces of comic book writing without the illustrations. You can tell that the Game Of Thrones phenomena has obviously taken a diversion when it approached me.

The Helleconia series though was different, I was hooked. And the reason why I was hooked was that the quality of writing made you believe in the world that was being shown to us.

So the writer of one of my favourite books of all time and of a series of novels that I enjoyed in a genre I normally back away from. Those examples show I hope what a good and wide ranging writer Brian Aldiss was.

RIP Mr Aldiss.....and thankyou.

Until the next time.

Murder He Watched (aka Watch With Mother)

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I am, as I'm writing this, in Essex, collecting my daughter following her week and a bit long stay at my mother's who showed her the London sights. Come down one day leave the next.

It is always a pleasure to see my mother, but like all families that pleasure means tolerating things you wouldn't put up in anybody else (I'm sure she'd say the same about me.....but it's my blog so there).

What I was conscious yesterday evening was that one of those things was watching television. Now am not saying that my tastes are better but they are different. And as I don't see her on a regular basis I feel rude putting headphones on and shutting myself off from the immediate world.

So I have to go retro and watch with mother.

My mother, like many other sweet, shall I say mature?, ladies has a taste for TV crime series. The programme we watched together last night was Murder She Wrote. I could see why she liked it. Jessica Fletcher was clearly a role model for ladies of her years. Aged well, was fit and active, talented, wealthy but most of all mentally stable. With an intelligence to solve murders that the local police force in the village she lived in in Maine (that is to say geographically judging by the show bordering California) is unable to solve. This inability then being spread out across the globe to affect many other forces of law and order.

If this was real life of course her local police force would be under investigation for it's inability to solve crimes without the help of a pensionable amateur.

And as I'm watching this piece of utter drivel (one hour incl commercials) I think that a more realistic aged amateur detective would have more wrinkles, consider walking to be exercise enough and would be struggling to live on the pension. If that was on TV then I'd watch it willingly.

But don't think her taste is solely on American trash. There's Midsomer murders. The programme I watched as if in a coma with her last year. Set in the fictional county of Midsomer, the only county it appears consisting just of a collection of villages and no towns/cities, it follow the experienced detective and his sidekick as they solve murders in the chocolate box England they live in.

An England which incidentally (as I understand it) did not have anyone until fairly recently whose skin colour wasn't white

This is two hours of cliché English drivel. It drives my brain to mush. Where is Inspector Morse when you need him?

But I have to watch. I'm with my mother.

(As a quick aside the only time I've ever willingly watched it was in Italy. British TV programmes watched overseas is some sort of electronic comfort blanket. A programme you'd cross the street to avoid in Britain suddenly becomes interesting).

The other crime programme my mother watched is Taggart. A show that I liked in the beginning but seemed at the end to be performing some sort of cull on the population of Glasgow. Do you know who my mother has also made a fan now? My daughter.

Suppose these things jump generations.

Until the next time

Plaid Cymru "the establishment"? Pause,Reflect,Laugh Your Head Off

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Since the general election the Welsh Labour has gone cocky. It has an I'll deserved swagger given that it's unexpectedly good showing was apparently due to a man they had for the most part ignored in the campaign.

This cockiness yesterday has seemed to have reached it's pinnacle at a Labour tour of marginal seats where there was a rally yesterday in Bangor where the headline act was Jeremy Corbyn. One of the seat they're targeting in the area is held by Plaid Cymru.

During the rally yesterday the media got a quote from Anglesey MP Albert Owen  who said that Plaid Cymru were "the establishment" in North West Wales.

Now let me stress one thing first. I've never been to North West Wales, I've no idea about the situation there and more local Plaid bloggers can discuss this in detail. But that said it's clear that Mr Owen was very careful with his words. For he knew that if he'd said that Plaid Cymru was the establishment for all of Wales then the gasps at his bare faced cheek would've been heard across the country.

For I'm not saying anything surprising when I say that it's Labour in Wales who are the establishment. But perhaps you would be surprised if I say that they deserved to be there. After all they were the party which sought to improve the living standards, education and health of the people.

But that was then and this is now. Welsh Labour now (the party remember not of Corbyn but of Blair)  are the party of arrogantly incompetent. Complacent in the assumption that they will get the majority of Welsh votes come what may.

And now Welsh Labour have ignored the dream and aspirations of it's voters. Regular readers will know how I've chronicled the big project s of Bridgend council whilst seemingly turning a blind eye to the town. Or how Rhondda Cyon Taff  council  seem to think that the wellbeing of the South Wales Valleys will be unaffected by a mass closure of libraries in the borough.

Nationally Wales under Labour has an  education  system amongst the dunces league of the world. There are cuts to the health service and an economy which is on a precipice to disaster due to Brexit and an apparent lack of planning for the consequences.

So the Labour establishment have failed all of Wales.

Ironically should there be a fresh general election in the next few months the Labour party have a chance of increasing their Welsh voters if the people feel there is a chance of toppling the Conservative government in London. But after that, when Labour's popularity wanes, that will be the moment for Plaid Cymru to use all of it's energies to appeal to the disillusioned Labour voter.

It can be done. Success for Plaid can be achieved. But it requires patience.

Plaid "part of the establishment"...... Pause reflect laugh your head off.

Until the next time.

Crazy Like A Fox (Or How International Trade Might Eventually Cause The Breakup Of The UK)

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well I suspect most people in Britain have learnt more about trade deals since the EU referendum than we have ever wanted to know. But essentially however complicated it will be dressed up any UK trade deals will boil down to a few facts:

1) The UK government will sell to anyone. No matter what evil stench they produce.

2) The UK government is desperate ......and the rest of the world knows it.

And in that atmosphere we have learnt that the current secretary of State for trade, Liam Fox, is seeking cabinet approval that any post Brexit trade deal will not need the approval of the Welsh and Scottish devolved administrations.

Presumably the reason for this is that should the UK sign any trade deal with let's say Ruritania he doesn't want any delay before waving to the TV cameras that he has in his hand "a piece of paper" and possibly hyping up a document that on closer examination may lead to trade surrender.

But the approval of the Welsh and Scottish administrations are there for a reason. They will know the effects of any agreement on indigenous industries and the local area so it is their duty to protect them from the consequences of a botched deal.

Let's give an example. I've heard more than once Nigel Farage talk about "New Zealand lamb". But should the deal be flawed it might endanger the Welsh lamb industry. It might allow for the flood of cheap lamb without any reciprocity. Would London be able to do its research on the Welsh lamb industry without consulting Cardiff? I have my doubts.

Now we all know what the Brexiteers will say. This a matter for London and not  Cardiff/Edinburgh. Fox is pursuing the will of the majority of the British people. However we all know that the Scots sort to remain and everywhere else in the UK people voted for the destination but not the route to get there. Also the Cardiff/Edinburgh governments were democratically elected as well. They have every right to fight for the people living in Wales/Scotland.

The Brexiteers will also say that the Celtic regions can be represented by their respective  Secretary of States. However these men are not democratically elected by the entire people of the countries whose offices they hold. If we take professional slimeball Alun Cairns Secretary of State for Wales as an example I've explained in an earlier post how he considers the London imposed building of super prisons as a business skills opportunity. He's not a man of the people but a Conservative freak

Within the EU regional governments were able to block trade deals they saw as damaging to their locality. It would be a great irony that after "taking back control" it would be London that would take it back from Cardiff/Edinburgh as well.

So let us say that trade agreements are reached that damage industries and consequently regions in Wales/Scotland. What this will cause is resentment/then anger amongst the people there. The call will rise for the people living in Scotland/Wales to break free of London rule because of the consequences of any botched trade deal. These people will vote for independence in their lives because London rule damaged their and their families' future. This will not happen at breakneck speed....but it will happen.

I've explained before that those of us who believe in independence do not want a scenario where it's achieved through the misery of decent people suffering as a result of London policies. But should the input of Cardiff/Edinburgh regarding trade deals not be sort now it's consequences will be felt across the whole of the United Kingdom later.

Until the next time.

Early Morning With The Flemish Professor

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

My eyes are awake but I know it's too early for outside it's dark.

I try to go back to sleep. I need to go back to sleep. For although Saturday night will be doing absolutely nothing (wife will be out at a kid's party) the day will be busy.

It's useless. I'm awake.

Regular readers, to be fair regular readers for a long time back,will know that insomnia hits me from time to time, meaning that I'm in this zombie like being of too awake to be sleepy and too sleepy to be awake. If this was six months ago my actions would have been to get out of bed, make myself a cup of tea and watch a recording of a sports game, mainly football.

But that was then. I knew that there was only one programme for me that I've recorded....and I wanted to watch it that evening.

So I try to go back to sleep. Think sleepy thoughts. It's night out there. I went to bed as late as possible (11:30pm) so that this wouldn't happen......because it already did this week.

But it's no use......I'm awake.

Do you know, apart from the state of limbo that your body feels, what is the worst part of insomnia? It's that moment when you find out what the time is. I switch on my Kindle.

3:48am. Four hours twelve minutes and now I'm awake. What makes it even more worse is that as I have things planned for Saturday morning the alarm had been set for six. Summer (if you call the past few months that) is going soon. The sky is black and daylight will not be expected for a while.

Part of my insomnia routine will never change. I make myself a cup of tea. Priorities.

Could go on the laptop. But my mind's not really with it then. There really is no other option to pass the time. It's the programme I'd been saving to watch that evening, Professor T, a Flemish crime series in the Walter Presents foreign language stable of TV shows from Channel 4.

Without trying to spoil the plot essentially the series is about an idiosyncratic college professor of criminology with OCD issues who helps the Belgian police solve crime. I could go further but it wouldn't be fair to those who didn't see it.

Now let me make a few things clear. The show has echoes of Monk (which I didn't like) and Perception (which I did). It is however (judging on the first episode) more realistic (this episode was about a series of rapes in a college campus - I cannot recall a crime series showing the long term effects on rape on its victims as vividly as this one).

Neither am I going to from on high pass final judgement. Am old (way old as it happens) enough to realise that for TV series the real test for the first episode is whether you'd want to watch the second one. In that it passed with flying colours.

As I finish writing this the sun has come out. I should go back to try and sleep again but it's too late. I've a busy daytime and a nothing obvious Saturday night to come (Nothing planned to watch on TV...unless West Ham win....please..... when Match of the Day will become compulsive viewing).

Still thankyou Professor T for helping pass the way too early morning.

Until the next time.

Why Plaid Cymru Should Not Panic Part Two: Leanne Wood's Tweet

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

You may remember a few week's ago I chatted about the hyping up of leading Plaid Cymru member Rhun Ap Iorweth's comment that he would like to be leader of the party should Leanne Wood step down. That proviso, crucially, was not part of the BBC News website headline.

The article then interlinked it with an unnamed Plaid Cymru AM expressing dissatisfaction with Ms Wood's leadership. I'd wondered whether there was an attempt to put two and two together and hype it up to five.

Well it appears that another storm in an espresso cup has surfaced in an attempt to undermine her. It was to do with her tweet commenting about the terrible attack in Barcelona and speculating whether "far right terrorism" was responsible.

The amazing thing about that tweet was the reaction of the UKIP and Conservatives. They objected to the words "far right".

So let's pause here. UKIP stated that the tweet was "an outrageous smear". The fact though is it wasn't outrageous because it wasn't a smear at all. Does anyone in UKIP seriously believe that people looked at those horrible scenes in Catalonia and thought "Well that's obviously the work of a UKIP member"?

It's also important to remember that the UKIP leader in Wales Neil Hamilton (and I knew UKIP in Wales would decline the moment they elected him as leader) is no stranger to controversial comments, for example suggesting that Leanne Wood was part of a political concubine to Welsh Labour leader's Carwyn Jones' harem.....yes I know.

The reaction that was even more astonishing though was of the Welsh Conservatives whose leader, Andrew RT Davies raised himself from whatever he was eating to condemn it as well as other Tory AMs.

But why? Why would the Conservatives be bothered by the use of the words "far right"? Are they not of the mainstream right? Why get bothered over something that does not refer to them at all?

I'll speculate on that later.

So would BBC Wales report this whole issue as that of UKIP/Tory manic overreaction at best/ deliberate ploy to smear Leanne Wood at worse? Of course not. Instead they treated these hysterical responses with a seriousness it did not deserve and again in passing linking it to these rumoured criticism of her leadership.

Time for speculation: I've said before that Leanne Wood is an asset to Plaid Cymru and is popular. I would argue that the reaction of UKIP/Conservatives is an acknowledgement of that. Plaid should not succumb to the hyping up of nothing and panic.

There is a reason why the political establishment want Leanne Wood to resign as leader....they're afraid of her.

Until the next time.

When A Book Is Bad Because You're Stupid

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

What If by Randall Munroe is finished. The book that gives "Serious Scientific Answers to Absurd Hypothetical Questions" is now, done, completed. The book which, you may recall from an earlier post, a colleague practically mauled over when I was away from work.

I should have let her continue.

Essentially this is "Scientists go wild". This is fine by me. I'd rather have them give answers to questions for situations that will never exist than threaten to unleash some dangerous virus unless they have control of the planet.

As I see it. For the general reader there should be two types of Science books. The first is designed for non scientists but for people interested in a particular subject (eg global warming).

The second is the sort of book which starts from the premise that the reader should be treated, at least in the beginning as a five year old when explaining a subject. And the reader is not insulted about this. We know nothing. You the scientist are there to guide us.

Now this book is "omnibus science" in the sense that to answer the questions being posed (on a particular website as it happens) such as "How many arrows would it take to seemingly blot out the sun?" various science subjects are used.

The trouble with that approach for the general reader is that although you might, for example, be interested in information technology it doesn't necessarily mean that you're going to be interested in chemistry. So to grab your attention it has assume you're thick as two planks and stay there.

And let me make things absolutely clear here....I'm thick.

The book suggests it will help you. There's cartoons for those who need pictures (me) . While all the questions are wacky enough plus even pop culture references to Star wars to tempt you along the way.

What Mr Munroe does however is start chatting to you as the village idiot (please continue Mr Munroe I don't mind!) but as the answer to a question goes on he gets more and more scientific and technical and well.....my brain hurts.

Consequently he loses that question to me. Multiply that by most of the questions and that will give you an actual and theoretical computation that he's lost me as a reader.

So this is a bad book. It fails for me....because I'm thick......sorry.

Until the next time.

A Trip To Treorchy

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Regular may remember that earlier this year I had mentioned that should my wife die before me I'd decided to move to Treorchy in the Rhondda Valley. A remark met with amusement,derision and snobbery by some (note the word some in that sentence) people in the Cardiff/Vale area.

Well today (Thursday) with exactly nothing to do (well there's paperwork but that can wait for Friday) for most of the day and by myself I decided to wander round the town given that such opportunities are rare nowadays.

Why do I want to move there. Well quite simply I'd use it as a base to wallow in sights that make the South Wales Valleys the Welsh Tuscany.

Imagine waking up to that

The town itself is rather interesting. For although it has a Boots an Iceland and a Superdrug for example the majority of shops are independent. Also many of them fly the Welsh flag, a gesture I took to show pride of their roots and have no political connotation at all.

Flying the Flag

And Again

The interesting shop in the above photo is one on the right. For though it's a Butcher's it's signage is completely in Welsh. Which is impressive.

People in the South Wales Valleys take this sort of view...



...or this...



...in their stride...including the lady in the local chippie where I had lunch which is called....

....A Fish Called Rhondda!!!

And time for another Treorchy view



Now of course nothing is perfect. Along the walk I found myself in the nearby village of Ynyswen. I saw this.

Note the sign for Courage beer

What makes this particularly sad (and it reminds me of a similar building I remember in Newport where I might have said the same thing) is that you realise it had a happy past.

And I'm not going to gloss over the economic problems the region faces. But what the Valleys has is community. Real community. Not the community of a newly built estate but that of people who appreciate everyone in their area .

I enjoyed my brief time in the Valleys today. Next time I visit it'll be for longer and will take in a wider area. What it taught me today though was that my intention to move up there to Treorchy remains strong.

Until the next time.

No Football On This Blog For A While, Time To Be Very Sully

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I am conscious that it's been a while since football has made an appearance in this blog. There's a number of reasons for that, working most Saturdays, house hunting and the lack where we live at the moment of a decent internet signal on the TV for BT Sport have all conspired to reduce my footy watching for a while.

However where I live now I'm conscious of a number of football teams that play relatively nearby. Of those that I'm aware of there's Barry Town United AFC, Dinas Powys FC, Ely Rangers FC and Cardiff City. Neither have I forgotten Newport County AFC, Penybont FC and the team I've decided to follow as much as possible Ton Pentre FC. There seemed to be more opportunities to spectate now.

For this Wednesday however in the early evening for a six fifteen kick off I was off to see the nearest team to where we're renting at the moment, Sully Sports FC. Part of the South Wales Alliance Premier League, as I'm sure you knew already. The ground is a tolerable walking distance from where we live, but the journey the journey is awkward so I drove there.

So then part of the Vale of Glamorgan, no hint of my previous seventeen years in the Bridgend area, if it wasn't for their opponents, Pencoed Athletic FC, and I think you can guess where they're from.

To reach the ground you go through the car park, down the path where it's advised that children are welcome but not dogs (fine by me). Everything I should also mention was free.

You then approach the stand but cannot help looking at the pitch first. Or rather beyond it.

The Sea,The Sea

I mentioned to a few people in conversation that this must be the only ground in Britain where the ball boys are also lifeguards. They don't get the joke.

It's then I'm conscious that I've underdressed. The skies were blue when I'd left but now are black. I'm wearing a short sleeve shirt. It's cold, windy and I'm an idiot.

Anyway to the stand....past the container.




At the stand found I had company.

I'd no idea whatsoever

Someone on Twitter told me that it was a Horcrux. Google tells me that it comes from Harry Potter which regular readers will know I've never read out of principle (It's for kids! I'm fifty three). So I'm still none the wiser.

I brought What If? by Randall Munroe to read during the break. But as you will see as I go on I didn't have time to look it. So all I'll claim is to be the first person to have brought a copy of a Randall Monroe book to a Welsh football game. No I'll go further I'll claim to be the first person to have brought a science book to a Welsh football game.

History In The Making

So there was I, a man in a short sleeved shirt in unshort sleeved shirt weather. Only now do I realise how I looked like the weird oddball that evening.

About to Start

So the match, along with my ninety minutes plus of double pneumonia began.

It wasn't long before a man I'd assumed to be the Pencoed Athletic manager was shouting at a player for "quicker communication". He being blessed with never having the need to use a microphone to be heard. Indeed the entire three man management team seemed very emotional. Constantly waving their hands to show where the ball should've gone. Except that is when the instruction was to "open this way" when oddly enough the hand gestures were conspicuous by their absence.

The Sully management team consisted of a small man and his bodyguard type assistant who was the one mainly shouting out orders. Given that he'd the look of a man who would have been the maniac cop in any TV series interrogation of the bad guy I'm sure the Sully team carried out the orders as well as possible.

The Management....Sully are in Red

With about ten minutes of the first half to go. The Sully number ten had noticed that the Pencoed goalkeeper was out of his line and lobbed a ball over him. It was dramatic. It was a goal. It was one nil Sully.

A Few Stills From The Game....Yes I was That Close

Grey clouds Up There

More Goalmouth Action

And it stayed like that until five minutes before half time. Where if I understood it right from the Pencoed fans by me Ash crossed and Dunc connected to score. Could have been the other way round. Forgot that. And as to how, a shot or a header .....no idea....the Pencoed Management team were in the way.

One all is how it stayed at the end of the first half. It all seemed very fair to me. Sully seemed like the team with the skill but Pencoed were the more physical. It made predicting the outcome difficult.

For me though at that moment it didn't matter. I was cold I was hungry I wanted chips.

Now to explain the place to get the chips was a stall by the car park. From there the only view of the match was what was now the Sully goal. I'd expected the break to be fifteen minutes so imagine my shock as the lady was frying the chips when I saw the radioactive orange sight of the Sully goalkeeper. The second half was starting without me.

So there I was. Walking back to the pitch. Chips in hand.

Nice Chips At That

Passing through instruments of sporting torture.



And was just ready to see the ball go into the Sully net. Two-One Pencoed.

From that moment there was a clear change in Pencoed. Winning seemed to make them more relaxed. They were now matching Sully in the skill department. There was I could recall a piece of skill that produced a round of applause from the Pencoed management.

They were happy.

Behind the Sully Goal and The Man In Radioactive Orange

View from seaside of the pitch

The Sully side of the pitch....where most of the second half action was

Final Few Minutes 

With about ten minutes to go Pencoed scored a third. One on one with the radioactive goalie the player elegantly slotted the ball passed him. The best goal of the game.

Party time amongst the Pencoed posse began in earnest. One of the Pencoed management fell over. No one cared. Shots hit the bar. They knew they had won and were playing with the happy abandon of the school playground.

Sully however were deflated and you could see it. Their management hardly said anything after the third goal. They knew it was pointless.

Three one Pencoed was how the match finished. They deserved their victory.

So thankyou Sully Sports FC and Pencoed Athletic FC. For the neutral like me it was an enjoyable game to watch.

I'll just make sure next time I'm in Sully I dress a whole lot better.

Until the next time.