Why Football Support Is Not A Welsh Nationalist Issue

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

At a club level Welsh football occupies a particularly freakish position. After all there is a local pyramid structure and we've chatted about these games in the past. But we have a small number of clubs who play in the English league structure primarily Cardiff City, Newport County, Swansea City and Wrexham.

But on Twitter recently I've seen a relatively common complaint. That people could slag off England at country level and yet support at club level a team playing in the English leagues. In other words if you support an English team you're not truly Welsh.

To me football support is not a Welsh Nationalist issue and it needs to be addressed.

Now I can see this argument if you were born say in Cardiff or Swansea for example. I've always felt that you should support the closest team from where you were born wherever life takes you otherwise. That's why my first love will always be West Ham United.

But despite being born in the East End I've known members of my family who pick, excuse me whilst I hold my nose, the North London Arsenal as their team. So this "glory seeking" is not necessarily a Welsh issue.

Furthermore you could argue why should you support Cardiff if Aston Villa say is the closest team from where you were born?

There is actually a simple solution. As regular readers of this blog will know whilst West Ham is first amongst equals I've always believed that watching other leagues are more interesting when you support a particular team. Thus I follow in no particular order Barcelona, Celtic, Fiorentina, Paris St Germain, Ton Pentre and Werder Bremen.

There is no reason therefore that the Welsh football fan could not pick the closest team from the Welsh football pyramid from where he/she was born as well as a team from the English league and support them both. By doing that if you don't live near Cardiff, Newport Swansea or Wrexham you will have the chance of actually going to watch a game (which will of course be cheaper). You are not betraying either team as they play in different leagues.

And by supporting a Welsh team Welsh league club football will improve. I'm not saying you'll be watching Barcelona. But different leagues are not unlike food. I like bacon, eggs and chips. But I also like Spaghetti. There is a different taste to different leagues. It's still football though.

Of course at an international level the Welsh football fan should always support Wales.

Whilst I of course (for reasons I've explained last year) will always root for England first.

Until the next time.

Learning Gaelic Through The Medium Of Greenock Morton And Ross County

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well before we go into Gaelic let's start with this evening's FA cup victory of Newport over Leicester City. You know when Leicester equalised you thought you were about to see the sort of game where the plucky underdog got steamrollered by the top league opponent. But Newport bit back. They deserved the victory.

Just hope they're not drawn against West Ham in the next round.

Anyway earlier this morning I'd decided to start learning Gaelic by watching a football match on the BBC Iplayer. As I've mentioned before when starting to learn Welsh I would concentrate on two types of programmes, preschool and sports, for the simple reason that I'd have some idea what was going on.

Preschool programmes would teach me more on the vocabulary. Sports would be more to hear Gaelic being spoken even though I'd understand little. The point of listening at this time is just getting an ear to the language and tuning yourself in.

The match was a Scottish Championship (ie second tier) game between Greenock Morton and Ross County. Which was shown live last Friday on the BBC Gaelic channel BBC Alba. Ross County were leading the division and were the favourites for the night.

Now I must be honest the first half for the neutral was a dull affair. I know this through how much my attention was distracted by peripheral things.

Such as:

Ross County's shirt sponsors are a company called McEwen Fraser (who I learnt later are estate agents). Probably the most Scottish sounding sponsors you could get.

Greenock Morton seem a very local club judged by their advertising hoardings. For in the midst of national bookmakers you could also see hoardings for butchers, wedding and funeral services. All human life is there (and let's not forget the one for International fine Art Auctioneers).

The Greenock Morton shirt are blue hoops over a white background QPR style. Thing is as symbolism goes the fact the hoops dissolve as they go across the chest is not a good look.

Yes the match was that dull. The first half finished nil-nil. Which was consequently the first Gaelic word I learnt (Neonini).

The second half was almost as dull. But Greenock Morton scored. A poacher's goal but no matter. A goal is a goal. One - nil then. One being aon in Gaelic. Closest way I can describe the pronunciation is Un in French.

The only other bit of interest was the confrontation between a Greenock Morton player and the Ross County manager. Trust me when I say I haven't learnt the Gaelic for handbags at dawn.

So it ended One-nil. Later through Twitter later I've also learnt the word for weather "Aimsir".

The crawl in learning a language begins.

Until the next time.

I May Be An Englishman Who Supports Welsh Independence. But I'm Still Going To Support England in The World Cup

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Last Saturday there was a Yes For Independence march held in Dumfries. And amongst the groups marching was one called English For Yes. What Twitter noticed and commented upon was a guy in that particular demonstration who wore an England football shirt. Basically the comments that were mocking him were in essence that here was a guy with split loyalties.

So let me be clear here. I'm with that guy. And the reason I'm with that guy is quite simple.

Football is different.

As anybody who supports a football team will tell you that supporting a team is not the same as supporting your local supermarket. When you ally yourself to a team you do so for life, not just for Christmas. So should you move away from that team you don't say, "well I might as well support the nearest club now". No you stick with the team that you have invested blood, sweat, tears and some money following.

After all I currently live near Cardiff City who will be playing in the Premier League next season and whilst (like Swansea and Newport) I genuinely wish them well I'm not going to suddenly start wearing a blue shirt, doing the Ayatollah and shouting "Bluebirds! Bluebirds!" all over the place. No the one time I intend to go to the City Stadium is to watch (quietly, I live nearby!) West ham beating them.

And that is equally the same nationally. I've supported England all my life and nothing changes now. I believe that Wales should be an independent nation and have no problem proclaiming my support for that. But as any fan will tell you the first rule of sports fandom is that once you have committed to a team that's it. You change your allegiance then you've broken the law.....it's a fact.

In fact my problem for this World Cup is going to be quite different. Normally due to my family background I would support England until they get knocked out after which I'd follow Italy. But this time Italy failed to qualify for the tournament in the first place.

Now that is a problem.

Until the next time.

Listening To Football With My Mother : Newport County Edition

Hello there. hope you're feeling well today.

So for the moment I'm looking after my mother now thankfully discharged from hospital in this Essex exile for I hope two more weeks before being able to take her back to Wales to complete her recovery and for my wife and daughter to know what husband/dad looks like (my daughter, thankfully in jest - I think - calls me "The Abandoner".

The days seem to be exactly like my mother's days whilst in hospital. Periods of boredom broken in with the hectic. Looking after an unwell relative, even for a hopefully short period makes you appreciate and understand what true carers have to face day in day out.

Yesterday when my mother was settled back in her house I was able to watch Swansea City on free to air TV thrash Notts County 8-1. My mother was discharged from hospital, Swansea City was the giant that killed in the FA cup and I ate a rather good microwave meal from the Co-op. It was a good evening.

This evening however the FA cup replay was not on free to air.Instead the only way I could follow it was on the wireless. Tottenham Hotspur (boo hiss. Even if they are the team of Harlow) and Newport County who, like their West Walian equivalent of yesterday, are for me in that group of teams I wish well unless they face West Ham.

And they are also the underdogs. And when I say underdogs Newport County the lowest positioned side left in the competition.

So the programme on BBC Radio 5 Live begins. I miss the preview. Partly because we were waiting for my mother's carer to the evening. She didn't come. She was running late. NHS might have looked after my mother but the aftercare has been transferred to the private sector. And they are late.

Once that has been sorted out then I need to get to the local chippy for dinner. Pie and chips for me. Sausage and chips for my mother. Her taste buds seem to have radically changed since she's left the hospital. She has eaten today Porridge,bacon sandwiches,grapes,cherries,whole nut chocolate and crunchie chocolate bar. Also tea, coffee and lemonade

The most amazing thing though was the one I'd refused to get. A chicken Mcnuggett meal. Before she would have turned her nose at it. Now she wants it. The only reason why I refused was that it was just that too far away to get given it was the first full day since she was discharged from the hospital.

And so we eat. And we listen to Newport County battling against their Premier league rivals.

"Tottenham" asks my mother "Are they the rough team?"

I think she's confusing Spurs with Millwall.

Was about to answer when Spurs score. An own goal by Butler. Very unfortunate. About ten minutes later Lamela scores a second. The possibility of this going all Notts County begins to be a worrying thought in the head.

The way it's described Newport seem to have been deflated in the end of the first half. Personally my view was they might as well throw everything including the South Walian kitchen sink at Tottenham.

"Who are Spurs playing?" My mother is awake again.

"Newport"

"Newport in Wales?"

I was tempted to say "No Newport in the Isle of Wight".

During the half time break. Where the BBC Winter Olympics people were moaning about the cold weather (yes I know!) she asks more questions.

"Is the game over?"

"No it's half time"

My mother was asleep for most of the second half. And from the sounds so was the game. Tottenham had many chances. Newport had just the one.However The scoreline stayed at 2-0.

But let's just say this. Newport County were beaten but not humiliated.

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.

Leyton Orient From A Distance

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I know that I haven't mentioned sports a lot in this blog recently, as most of my spare time has been spent on the agonies and ecstasies of moving house (scrub that, just the agonies).

But there was a piece of news I heard yesterday that cannot go uncommented. After one hundred and twelve years Leyton Orient have been relegated from the Football League.

As explained previously though I'm a West Ham fan there are a group of clubs such as Cardiff, Swansea and Newport County that I consider friends. The best way to describe my attitude to these teams is like being very friendly with a woman but not having an affair as you're faithful to your wife.

But by far the oldest team in this group is Leyton Orient.

When I was much, much younger and the Hammers were playing far away I would travel down the central line from Redbridge to Leyton tube station, walk to Brisbane Road and watch a game. And you know, even if it's from the misty fog of nostalgia can't ever recall a game that was dull.

O's fans had a different sense of humour as well. I can remember a game in the eighties (can't give precise details, the programme having been boxed/crated) against Brighton. It's the first half and the Brighton player Steve Foster was sent off for a dangerous tackle. The away fans at the far end of the ground from me were furious. Screaming blue murder at the decision. The Home fans seemed content enough to do nothing but cheer until half time.

However once the ref blew his whistle the Brighton fans increased their hostile roars against him. The Orient fans? As he was approaching the tunnel they stood up and gave the man a standing ovation.

Brighton now promoted to the Premier League. Orient now relegated from the Football League. There are many twists and turns in football. It can provide joy but also can be cruel to those who don't deserve it.

I mentioned in September that in late nineties took my then girlfriend (and now wife) to watch a match where they faced the Welsh team Merthyr Tydfil in an FA Cup third round match. So it's even been used to help me court her. So thank you for that.

But of course they've never had it easy. Living under the shadow of the bigger London clubs, and particularly West Ham meant that they would always have pressure with regard to support. I support West Ham because it's the closest team to where I was born but am always annoyed by people living by me who supported Arsenal (Man Utd etc) because it was the more successful club so can understand Orient fans' annoyance. And when West Ham won the battle to move into the Olympic Stadium there was a lot of focus on Tottenham's failed attempt to do. But Spurs were just being North London chancers. Leyton Orient was more affected by this move and to me from a distance here in Wales seems to have been ignored by the London authority.

With the exact science that is hindsight the match I saw in September was a shape of things to come. At that time the O's were in top half of the table and their opponents Yeovil Town were at the bottom. But despite what the table standings would have suggested beforehand and that the home team were basically the better side, Yeovil had but one clear opportunity to score and they took it.

But it's what happened after the defeat that I'll always remember. When the Orient fans shouted their protests at the emperor Nero of an owner and he seemed to have waved their concerns away with cold disdain from an executive box. His look at that moment is one I'll never forget, seeming to have viewed the fans as if they were peasants.

It since then it's got much worse. A succession of defeats and indeed managers have led them to the relegation they have to deal with today. But you could argue that off the field the situation is even more worrying. A winding up order due to unpaid debts is hanging over the club and staff haven't been paid since March which they issued a statement about saying that they've had no communication about this from club directors. A situation that goes beyond sad. Tragic is the closest word I can think of.

The attitude of the owner is beyond comprehension. At best it seems to be Nero fiddling whilst Rome burns. At worst the thoughts turn much darker but I don't feel expert enough to discuss it here. I would suggest downloading the Orient Outlook (the best one club podcast I know) when it next comes out to hear the opinions of its more knowledgeable presenters. It'll be a sad listen but an important one for all fans of football.

Leyton Orient. In a hospital bed fighting to stay alive. For what it's worth I hope you'll pull through.

Until the next time.

Going Even More Continental,Carlo Ancelotti And A Few More Words On Leyton Orient

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I know this sounds odd. But ever since the EU Referendum I've acted more continental than I ever did before. It is I'm sure a reaction against the Little England that the Brexiteers want all of us to become. Now it's affected what I have for breakfast.

Previously Breakfast would be toast (lightly done,cremation is for my death),cereal or in the winter months porridge with the risque edge of a dollop of jam.

But not now.

For I have discovered, no stumbled on more like, the joys of the Continental Breakfast.

C'est Magnifique

Now let's be clear about this. Any French person seeing this picture will be wetting themselves with laughter at the description of this as a continental breakfast but this is Bridgend not Bordeaux so you have to allow me leeway on this. The jam,orange and croissants are from Lidls. The coffee is Carte Noire.

(The mug incidentally is a very old West Ham one. The character being,wait for it, Harry Hammer or perhaps even 'arry 'ammer.....even the internet couldn't help me on that.)

Anyway the point is that it's tasty and filling and the drink washes it down. I'm hooked. Possibly in the depths of winter I might go back to Porridge (an ad in the seventies described it as "Central Heating For Kids") but don't really want to .

I've finished Quiet Leadership by Carlo Ancelotti (with others) one of these sort of books for business managers where someone explains "the art of leadership". I've never read these type of books before given that a) I'm not interested b) everyone seems to follow the style of a "leader" be they football managers, Chinese Warlords or even Star Trek captains. There are as many ways to lead as there are leaders. Leadership I'd argue is not something that can be taught, it's instinctive.

Even allowing for that you do wonder whether Ancelotti should've brought out a book like this. After all if you compare him with Sir Alex Ferguson he comes out worse when you consider that Ferguson broke the stranglehold of a top division with Aberdeen and took a club at a low ebb and made it a European powerhouse with Manchester United.

And if you compare him with Brian Clough well, drop the mic there.

The football bits in the book are interesting and if he ever writes a proper autobiography I will read it. The rest is just common sense mixed with business speak twaddle.

Work means I won't be able to go to the library until Monday at the earliest. So the non Penguin book picked from the great unread that I'm going to read is.

Alan Coren - A Year In Cricklewood

I've been reminded of Alan Coren in the past few weeks by programmes on the radio. So I am looking forward to this.

You may remember last Saturday I chatted about seeing Leyton Orient for the first time in decades getting defeated one nil by Yeovil Town. Well I've been listening to Orient Outlook podcast out of curiosity and although I'd an idea as to the discontent of the fans following their defeat directed to their Roman Emperor of an owner I had no knowledge until later of it's extent.

Quickly to digress. The Orient Outlook podcast is worth a listen. Presented by ordinary fans who show you can be passionate for your team without shouting it from the rooftops. Rooting for their side whilst treating other supporters with respect it is the best one team football podcast I know.

So we have a Roman Emperor owner who seemingly treats the fans like peasants,without a manager at time of writing (though a man who knows how to save clubs from relegation has suddenly become available) and a team apparently playing without heart (which could explain why they failed to know what to do with the ball when they approached the Yeovil goal in the game I saw). In their last match, (which let me stress I didn't see because I was at work and,well,in Wales) they lose by two nil and are reduced to nine men in a fifteen minute period.

And I am upset (though in a manly East End way you understand) because as I've explained before Leyton Orient is like an old friend who now I discover has fallen on hard times. For although Orient always lived in the shadow of bigger London teams it had an identity all of it's own and if things continue to decline this is the biggest thing that might be threatened.

They play Newport County on March 4 next year (a team which has had it's own off the field problems in the past) and I definitely intend to go and see that game.

Until the next time.

In Which I Go To Watch A Football Game. Men vs Boys (Nearly)

Hello there, Hope you're feeling well today.

Well work had turned out to be unexpectedly fraught yesterday. Needed something that would wash it out of my hair. Happily for me. Football was back.

I live near the ground of the Welsh football league club Penybont FC (which is Welsh for Bridgend) and they were playing a preseason friendly against a Welsh team that plays in the English football league Newport County AFC. Neither wife nor daughter had plans for the day so at 2pm this Saturday afternoon off I went.

It's about a twenty minute walk from where I live,in the Bridgend suburb of Bryntirion. Indeed Penybont FC used to be Bryntirion FC until it merged with Bridgend Town FC. Making it then the first time a town moved to the suburbs.

The weather barring a cool breeze was warm enough but there was a dark cloud on the horizon.

Literally

So I took an umbrella and one other item, which I'll explain later.

A slight digression. never understood how Welsh street names are used. Not the principle you understand, just the application. They seem to be picked for no obvious reason.

Makes no sense

This is an extreme example on the way to the ground. The road is called Chestnut Way (which of course makes no sense in English - There's a way to the Chestnuts?) but underneath is translated in Welsh as BrynGlas, Not only does it actually mean BlueHill in Welsh but I've no idea where the "BlueHill" actually is.

But back to the football and the first real surprise. For it appears that it's not just Olympic stadiums that can have brand naming rights but also the second tier of Welsh league football as well.

Progress.....apparently

I went in. Paid £5. Was disappointed there wasn't a programme and went straight for the stand.

The Stand

Easy to laugh at it but remember this isn't the English Premier league but a league most people could afford to go to regularly.And of course if the football was dull there was always the view.

Gaze at that

Now look at the building on the right, In a seemingly small space it contains a sports bar with large screen TV, a function room. somewhere to get hot food (got chips and a cola at half time), the changing rooms for the teams and the match officials as well as some office space for club business. Clearly for the designer this was a sideline from building the TARDIS.

Outside of the bar there were chairs and tables people could chat and watch the match with behind the goal.

I noticed almost immediately that,programme or no programme, this was not the first team for Newport County. They were too young and fresh faced. Teenagers who probably only saw a razor from TV ads. This was the academy side. In contrast Penybont were a team of physically imposing first team adults complete in some cases with beards,baldness and in one case a combination of the two.

This match was,quite nearly, men versus boys,

And so it began....

The Match

In the beginning you could see why these "boys" were picked. They had skill. They had youthful enthusiasm (ah youthful enthusiasm I remember it well). Anyway in about the eleventh minute there was a cross field cross which which was taken by a Newport player who made an expert shot to beat the Penybont goalkeeper. 1-0 then to Newport. It was the score that stood for the remainder of the half.

If the match had ended after 45 minutes you would have said that Newport were the more skillful side and that Penybont had only kept the loss to a single goal by imposing their obvious physical superiority over their opponents. But of course as the cliche goes football is a game of two halves and after the break the home team showed the thing that was absent in the first half which was skill.

Attack after attack began. Near misses and stout defending were frustrating Penybont but they kept on going. Penybont were also getting inventive. At a corner they piled as a group to receive it the same way as the national team did against Belgium in Euro 2016. Or as I overheard someone call it "the Welsh Thing".

One of the best things about going to a football game is learning by just listening to the people around you. 

"That's Ellis Bellamy"

"He plays for us now?"

"Yes."

"Is Craig here?"

So on learning that a son of a famous retired Welsh player is playing for his team the first instinct of the recipient of that news is to look for his famous father (who wasn't there incidentally). Such is life.

There was more:

"There are two number threes (for Penybont) on the pitch" He was right.

"Does it matter?"

"Well yes. Say if there was a booking"

At that moment I had to turn round. There was I informed them two number twelves as well. One was bald and bearded the other was bearded with hair up top. Fortunately the first was one was substituted soon after that conversation. I didn't mention afterwards that I'd noticed there were also two number sixteens.

It was a good thing that the bald bearded number twelve had been substituted because it was the other number twelve who scored the Penybont equaliser. A delightful goal which was what they deserved after their relentless efforts in the half. Soon after Penybont scored two more. Both from headers. The second, in the way the ball was caught from the corner was positively Vogtsian.

3-1 then was the final score. I'm not sure what Newport County learnt from all of this other than giving the players experience. As for Penybont they would have the satisfaction of not just winning but coming from behind to do so.

I did notice that in this game was there were three times where Newport players had to go off the field because of injury. Being very young men there were no Oscar winning performances. It was real agonising pain. Let me stress I'm no expert, but I couldn't but wonder whether putting two sides so obviously physically different against each other was really a good idea.

And the other item I brought with me? Well I hereby claim to be the first man ever to have read an H E Bates novel during the breaks of a Welsh football league match.

Fame at last

Until the next time