For I Am Ten Again : Cardiff City Vs West Ham Part Two: When Reality Bites

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So I'm here. The Cardiff City Stadium. It's about half past one. Wife has dropped me off. I'm still ten.

There is a small crowd by the players entrance. Cardiff City players are signing copies of the match programme. They go in. Soon the West Ham coach arrives. One of the first people to get out is the manager Manuel Pellegrini with a look that suggests he wasn't comfortable with the journey and moves swiftly into the players entrance. Then there is a pause, then another bunch of players emerge. Then another pause and a final group get out.

That's the back of West Ham captain's Mark Noble's head going into the Players Entrance. I can sure take a picture

I go to the gift store just to buy a few things for daughter and the matchday programme for myself. Their third strip ( a thing I hate. Just another way to fleece the fans) is on sale for £10. I was tempted to buy one for her as well but thought better of it. Until this year you would have thought it just the luminous colour of motorway maintenance which is bad enough. Now it would be also mistaken for right wing protesters in Britain and would be liable to have you attacked by French gendarmerie as part of the gilets jaune .

Gift Shopping

Eventually I get inside. I walk to my block. Past the betting kiosks and screens showing the early match Crystal Palace vs Brighton and make my way to my seat.

Bluebird Country

The players come onto the pitch. the West Ham fans are in the next block to me and sing Bubbles the theme song. Unquestionably the most realistic of all football anthems. Nothing says the agony of being a fan than the line "Fortune's always hiding. I've looked everywhere".

It would appear though that the Cardiff City DJ was ready for them. The moment Bubbles was finished immediately Men Of Harlech comes on the tannoy. Most of the crowd (including me - remember I'm a quiet hammer surrounded by Bluebirds) stand up. When that finishes the West Ham block begins singing God Save The Queen and then shouting "Engerland". Whatever the next ninety minutes or so was going to be a lesson in diplomacy was not one of them.

The West Ham block is to the left of this photo 

It was noticeable that there were some (not many) empty seats in the stadium. Mainly though for the most expensive seats contrary to what I thought earlier. My suspicion was that they were season tickets who decided to watch Scotland vs Wales which was being played at roughly the same time. However the ground was mainly full showing again that the awe of the international rugby game is not what it was, though still powerful.

The match begins

It was the fourth minute, the fourth minute you understand when Hoilett scored a goal at the near post. Cardiff City were ahead. Whatever I expected from this game Cardiff City scoring that early was not one of them.

Of course I clapped alongside the Bluebirds surrounding me but to  misquote Smokey Robinson if you took a good look at my face you'd see a smile that looked out of place.

"YOU'RE GOING DOWN. YOU'RE GOING DOWN. YOU'RE GOING DOOOWN" chants the West Ham block of fans. Whether true or not only time will tell but timing wise it smacked of sour grapes.

"ONE NIL AND YOU STILL CAN'T SING"
This goaded the guy in front of me to stand up, swear, give the finger and say things that google would ban me for. The bit I was bothered with was the standing up, given that he was spoiling my view of the game. He moved from his spot during the game. But late in the second half a group of stewards took him forcibly away from where he'd moved to.

And throughout the first half Cardiff City showed an energy and commitment seemingly absent from the last few games. In contrast West Ham only seemed to get their bearings in the last few minutes.

I had begun to notice that the guy sitting next to me was also a quiet West Ham fan amongst the Bluebirds. Clapping at the very rare West Ham attacks on the Cardiff goal. Thankfully for him not so loud as to be truly noticeable by the Welsh around him.

One-nil then to Cardiff City at the first half.

Come the second half , early in the second half, Cardiff City score again. Camarasa edging the ball passed the West Ham goalkeeper Fabianski (booed constantly - being ex Swansea City - worth noting though he stopped it being three nil soon after).

The Cardiff City fans truly began singing now. "YOU'RE GOING DOWN (etc) " was said in response again, as was bubbles. But we all really knew whose afternoon it was then.

More Action

West Ham were disappointing. They really only had two real chances. The most dramatic bring the Declan Rice shot that hit the post. Cardiff City had the greater passion. They had a purpose.

A disappointingly rare second half attack from West Ham

Perhaps Pellegrini had underestimated the Cardiff manager Neil Warnock (whose book when manager of QPR I've chatted about in this blog). What was clear was that Warnock had done his homework. He was the one who earned his wages this afternoon.

Two nil then is how the match ended. I came into the ground a ten year old boy. I existed back to my fifty five year old self. Disappointed as I am Cardiff were the better team and genuinely as I said in my previous post I hope they hang on in the Premier League. This result, as the music from the Bee Gees confirmed as I went out, that they were staying alive.

Some people later asked me whether at least I was happy to have seen the game anyway.
Of course not.
My team lost.
Reality Bites.

Until the next time.

In Which I Support Manchester United For The Day And Other Couch Potato News

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I have cancelled my Sky Sports subscription now that the final West Ham/Boleyn game has come and gone. However there is about three weeks or so before the channels are taken off my screen and so I won't deny I've watched/recorded other things.But these have been football matches, and as it's the tail end of the season not that many at that.

With one exception.

Because after having made myself a cup of tea and porridge once I'd woken up yesterday (Saturday). I plonked my backside onto the sofa and watched a recording of the previous night's Natwest T20 game between Essex and Surrey. Cricket wise although I must admit it's normally a sport I'd rather follow on the radio the team I do follow is Essex. This is because when I was a child they would play a Sunday League game at Valentine's Park in Ilford near where I'd lived when (much) younger.

Of course many things have changed since then. For example 20/20 cricket didn't exist, and you didn't then have to wonder how a bank bailed out by the taxpayer is sponsoring a sports competition. Still, Essex is the team I support and so the early morning was spent watching the match.

Essex however lost. But despite the never knowingly undersold quality of Sky Sports commentary, done by people I suspect annoyed that they didn't have the Test Match Cricket gig, I'd lost interest well before that.Should've just stuck to watching football recordings.

The only piece of real energy today was I made a quick trip to Porthcawl for a bit of shopping and a quick trip to the library. The weather was grim, though Porthcawl can still give a good picture no matter how miserable the day.

Fifty Shades Of Grey

As hinted I've borrowed a new book from the library which is this:

The Three Degrees - Paul Rees

This is about the three Afro Caribbean players who started to play for West Bromwich Albion in the late seventies. Their experiences, including the racism which was (if you consider the bananas) literally thrown at them. It should be an interesting read.

Once all the Porthcawl stuff was done it was time to go home and get ready to become a Manchester United fan for the day.

Explanations for the unknowing are in order. At the end of the Premier League season West Ham had finished seventh. A situation which meant they had missed out of inclusion into next season's Europa League judged on that alone. Their only chance was if Manchester United,already in the competition having finished the season in fifth, won the FA cup that they were contesting that day against Crystal Palace. So it meant that yesterday I was like a lot of Manchester United fans in Britain, having never been to Manchester let alone see them play there.

It also meant that I would be watching an FA Cup Final and rooting for the favourite.

As it happens I've never hated Manchester United like other fans do. That goes for Chelsea and Manchester City too. I think it's because I'm old enough to remember when these teams failed. When they got relegated and the years of empty trophy wise.

(Incidentally speaking of the years of empty the best title of a football book ever was Manchester United Ruined My Life by Colin Schindler. Written by a City supporter during United's recent successful period and before the oil money transformed the blue side.It says everything about being a fan when things are not going well)

It doesn't mean I root for them normally (after all in most matches they are the favourite). It doesn't mean I'm immune to cracking jokes about them. It's just that there's no bitter bile that comes from my lips when they are the subject of conversation.

And as I'm rambling on the subject I don't have this hatred towards Millwall either that each others fans are apparently inserted into the DNA. To be honest I feel neutral towards them. A sort of Charlton Athletic state of being.

Tottenham come close. In recent years they've become really annoying. There's something particular about their chairman Daniel Levy that is really dislikeable. When there are shots him on the television during a game, he always looks as if he's about to produce a white cat whilst expecting the arrival of James Bond.

But of course ultimately, there's always Arsenal. I've a group of friends known since childhood from north London who have been rabid fans of the Gunners and have always sort to remind me of their successes and West Ham's failures. Remember one Sunday when I received a phone call gloating over some embarrassing Hammers defeat.For some reason - can't recall now - was in bed laid low by some bug so there was no way I could respond properly. So waited patiently for years until West Ham beat them and I rang them to gloat. I was ...ahem ...thirty five at the time.

I am a fifty two year old man now. But football,and only football has the capacity of turning me into a ten year old boy. When we beat Arsenal in the first game of the season just ended. I viewed it as the long awaited triumph of good over the forces of evil.

But anyway back to yesterday. There was one more match to see before my (temporary) team's game. I'd never watched a Scottish Cup Final Live before and having Sky Sports did give me that opportunity so I took it.It was between Hibernian and Rangers. The latter was recently promoted next season to continue their rivalry with Celtic. A confrontation I can now best describe as being like Cardiff and Swansea with added religion.

Spoiler alert: It was unquestionably the best thing I saw yesterday. Hibernian won 3-2. Thanks in no small part to Anthony Stokes. Apparently he's on loan from Celtic so I assume now that Rangers fans think that he was on an undercover mission to spoil their day. David Gray, their captain scored an injury time and you saw what it meant in his face  and the faces of players,the manager an the fans that the hoodoo of cup failure was now lifted.

Speaking of the Hibernian fans some of them invaded the pitch after the game as did a few Rangers ones. If the TV pictures were anything to go by the wringing of hands at the situation was mainly overdone as although I'm sure there were a few apes of either team it was mainly a case of the Hibs fans being drunk with happiness at their victory. It was the Hibernian manager, Alan Stubbs, who said it best. For when the Sky Sports interviewer tried to get him to condemn the situation he said though not condoning the pitch invasion he understood it. That's a man with a sense of perspective.

By the way Sunshine On Leith is probably the best football anthem ever. If you can watch on Youtube the scenes of the fans singing it after the team received the cup then do it. Your hairs will rise from the back of your neck at the emotion of it all

So to the FA Cup Final and time to watch my team play. Well the first half was, barring a few decisions from the referee Mark Clattenburg that helped United (what a fine match official he is), dull. Time travels fast in a football game when you're bored. It makes your mind wander as well to ask important questions. Such why did Alan Pardew the Crystal Palace manager wear a Triffid on his lapel? And why did the Captain of my team, Wayne Rooney,have a hair transplant when he seems to have settled for a hairstyle best described as US marine?

In the second half Palace, then much to my relief United scored. So by 90 mins the match had to go into extra half time.Then there was a long pause on the TV for about fifteen to twenty minutes whilst I went to have dinner with the other inhabitants of the house otherwise known as my wife and daughter. Unsure what my wife was doing whilst I was watching the football. Daughter was making a hat for her Design and Technology lesson at school and no, I don't understand what a hat has got to do with technology either.

Unpaused the first half of extra time was unmemorable other than for the sending off of Chris Smalling for a tackle more suited to Twickenham. In the second half though my team dominated the game and Jesse Lindgard scored an absolute cracker of a winner.

So my team had won by 2-1. But now it's Sunday my real team is now in the Europa League. So Manchester United ......thank you.

And as it's Sunday I suspect I'd better get acquainted with my wife and daughter again.

Until the next time.