ErikthViking
UTC Legend
Although the word, just is relative. I had to clear some snow, fill up the bird feeders, put some washing in, eat, drink, blahdy, blahdy, blah, blah.
The bus from Brixton to Norwood Junction (an otherwise excellent tip) took almost twice as long as scheduled due to the extra traffic on the roads. I missed the start.
So, eight trains in England. Five were cancelled, and only one of the other three was on time. The sum total of delays: eight and one quarter hours. To avoid being late again, I arrived in Manchester almost four hours before KO time and walked from Oxford Road to the ground.
I got soaked to the skin (not literally, actually) on three consecutive days in the north of England. There is a saying in Sweden, “there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.” Whoever came up with that gem had not witnessed a gale sweeping in from the Irish Sea… and then another and then another.
Somehow, though, it didn’t turn out too bad.
I was filled with optimism from the win at Sheff U. I had correctly predicted the Bramall Lane score in front of 65 witnesses beforehand and delighted in showing them a pic of the scoreboard when I got back. I should have put a bet on.
At Copenhagen Airport, I get the gate and there's this guy who, seeing my Bournemouth scarf, comes up to me and asks, ‘can I take a picture for Facebook.’ Fame at last! ‘Yeah, OK,’ I say.
I see him on the plane and there's no one sat in his row, so I decide to go and have a chat with him. This is the short version. He has been in Denmark visiting relatives and he has a long history of football in Poole and Bournemouth including at AFCB and Poole Town. For a while, he up on hill lived in the same street as my Gran, “Up on Hill” as Upper Parkstone was, and still is, known. For a long time, we worked with my Gran's brother, therefore my great uncle, at Poole Town. He also knew a family who lived within 50 yards of my home in Waterloo Estate and countless other people. His involvement in local football in the ‘70s and ‘80s meant that he knows many of the players from that era and still meets up with them. The 2-hour flight went incredibly quickly. We connected on Facebook and later he sent me a mass of photos. This man is a treasure trove of memories and pictures.
The match you have either heard about, watched on TV or you were there. I missed the first ten minutes. Five of those were because of the extra journey time and there were a couple of thousand outside the Holmesdale Rd end who had similar travel difficulties. I missed the next five minutes recovering from having run from Norwood Junction. It wasn't surprising that I needed the time to get my breath back, the amazing thing is that I am still able to run!
It was only the second win that I have witnessed at Selhurst Park, an unlucky ground for us since February 2016. It was highly satisfying as, just like with Sheff U at Bramall Lane, you never really thought that Palace were gonna do it. It wasn't just that Palace were shíte, there was an enormous air of confidence in our side. The defence did an superb job of protecting Neto and, when he was called upon to make a save, they were brilliant. Keiffer Moore, scoring right in front of us, hastened the exit of the Palace fans and truly was the icing on the cake of a fine evening.
On the bus back to Brixton there were two Swedish-speaking Palace fans behind me. I cannot recall from recent memory two people talking such utter garbage: everyone, and everything, else was to blame. The referee, the post, bad luck, our unsporting play, etc. I was very tempted to say to them that just because you think that no one can understand what you're saying, it doesn't give you the licence to bullshít. Instead, I stayed quietly amused at two rather bitter blokes making their way home.
Between matches I got soaked twice and delayed twice. The highlight of the inter match period was
securing a couple of decent Christmas puds and a packet of shredded wheat to take home.
If United managed to stay up this season, and you have the legs for it, then I would recommend walking along the canal from the city centre to Old Trafford. When the weather is nice, it's a very pleasant walk. It also avoids the football tourists on the trams. You can't dodge them outside Old Trafford, though, and I think the irony is that they buy half and half scarves and 50% of their prized momento has our teams name on it. I will come back to that.
I don't think there's anything that I can say about what happened on the pitch that hasn't already been said. Many of you are much better at commenting on those things than I am. Either we were making so much noise that we couldn't hear 90% of Old Trafford make any noise at all or 90% of Old Trafford didn't make any noise at all. To their credit, the group of United fans to our left kept up quite a reasonable amount of singing until the 68th minute when even they gave up. It was remarkable that they seemed to have strong Mancunian accents but quite weird that most of their songs seem to be about players from the 70s, 80s and 90s. I wonder what today's crop of United players think about the supporters ignoring them and singing for 10 minutes about a player who last wore a red shirt more than a quarter of a century ago.
It was great to catch up with some folks at half time and at the final whistle, some of whom I haven't seen for ages despite the fact that we've both attended many of the same matches. I guess that it is not surprising given that our away support is at least 1000 or so for every away match. At half time, my match analysis was that we were playing four Steve Cooks. I don't know how many blocks our defensive players made but they sure as heck stopped United getting close to goal. There was commitment, passion energy, determination, oh I could write a long list. That was the big difference between United and us.
The last 20 minutes of singing alone would rank this as one of the greatest matches. What do all those United fans do with the extra 10 to 15 minutes saved by leaving early?
To think that we had to settle for only winning three-nil, is a good reflection on our performance at the Theatre of Dreams. We now know it's called that because most of the attendees use their half and half scarves as pillows to have a snooze for 90 minutes. Outside, I joked to the scarf sellers that they won't sell many more half and halves now and wouldn't it have been a better investment to have just stocked up with Bournemouth scarves. One of our supporters behind me, offered to buy me a scarf but I'd already decided that I was going to get one myself. I negotiated a knockdown price. I'll never wear it but I'm going to put it somewhere where I can see it regularly to remind me of the day and date when we went to Old Trafford and were disappointed only to be allowed a three goals margin of victory!
Not even getting soaked through again, spending an hour at Manchester Victoria and yet another one at Wigan North Western could dampen my spirts. Arriving four and a quarter hour’s late at my accommodation and missing MOTD did not matter. Never mind the talk of history being made, it marks a corner being turned. We have beaten and drawn with three clubs in the top six in recent weeks we are top of the form table over the past five matches. Only Fulham have scored more, over the last five and no team have conceded fewer.
I am more than happy with my own personal recent form table. Attended 3, Won 3, Scored 8, Conceded 1.
A couple of pics from Saturday (sorry about the quality):
Anyone got a pic of the scoreboard at full time?
The bus from Brixton to Norwood Junction (an otherwise excellent tip) took almost twice as long as scheduled due to the extra traffic on the roads. I missed the start.
So, eight trains in England. Five were cancelled, and only one of the other three was on time. The sum total of delays: eight and one quarter hours. To avoid being late again, I arrived in Manchester almost four hours before KO time and walked from Oxford Road to the ground.
I got soaked to the skin (not literally, actually) on three consecutive days in the north of England. There is a saying in Sweden, “there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.” Whoever came up with that gem had not witnessed a gale sweeping in from the Irish Sea… and then another and then another.
Somehow, though, it didn’t turn out too bad.
I was filled with optimism from the win at Sheff U. I had correctly predicted the Bramall Lane score in front of 65 witnesses beforehand and delighted in showing them a pic of the scoreboard when I got back. I should have put a bet on.
At Copenhagen Airport, I get the gate and there's this guy who, seeing my Bournemouth scarf, comes up to me and asks, ‘can I take a picture for Facebook.’ Fame at last! ‘Yeah, OK,’ I say.
I see him on the plane and there's no one sat in his row, so I decide to go and have a chat with him. This is the short version. He has been in Denmark visiting relatives and he has a long history of football in Poole and Bournemouth including at AFCB and Poole Town. For a while, he up on hill lived in the same street as my Gran, “Up on Hill” as Upper Parkstone was, and still is, known. For a long time, we worked with my Gran's brother, therefore my great uncle, at Poole Town. He also knew a family who lived within 50 yards of my home in Waterloo Estate and countless other people. His involvement in local football in the ‘70s and ‘80s meant that he knows many of the players from that era and still meets up with them. The 2-hour flight went incredibly quickly. We connected on Facebook and later he sent me a mass of photos. This man is a treasure trove of memories and pictures.
The match you have either heard about, watched on TV or you were there. I missed the first ten minutes. Five of those were because of the extra journey time and there were a couple of thousand outside the Holmesdale Rd end who had similar travel difficulties. I missed the next five minutes recovering from having run from Norwood Junction. It wasn't surprising that I needed the time to get my breath back, the amazing thing is that I am still able to run!
It was only the second win that I have witnessed at Selhurst Park, an unlucky ground for us since February 2016. It was highly satisfying as, just like with Sheff U at Bramall Lane, you never really thought that Palace were gonna do it. It wasn't just that Palace were shíte, there was an enormous air of confidence in our side. The defence did an superb job of protecting Neto and, when he was called upon to make a save, they were brilliant. Keiffer Moore, scoring right in front of us, hastened the exit of the Palace fans and truly was the icing on the cake of a fine evening.
On the bus back to Brixton there were two Swedish-speaking Palace fans behind me. I cannot recall from recent memory two people talking such utter garbage: everyone, and everything, else was to blame. The referee, the post, bad luck, our unsporting play, etc. I was very tempted to say to them that just because you think that no one can understand what you're saying, it doesn't give you the licence to bullshít. Instead, I stayed quietly amused at two rather bitter blokes making their way home.
Between matches I got soaked twice and delayed twice. The highlight of the inter match period was
securing a couple of decent Christmas puds and a packet of shredded wheat to take home.
If United managed to stay up this season, and you have the legs for it, then I would recommend walking along the canal from the city centre to Old Trafford. When the weather is nice, it's a very pleasant walk. It also avoids the football tourists on the trams. You can't dodge them outside Old Trafford, though, and I think the irony is that they buy half and half scarves and 50% of their prized momento has our teams name on it. I will come back to that.
I don't think there's anything that I can say about what happened on the pitch that hasn't already been said. Many of you are much better at commenting on those things than I am. Either we were making so much noise that we couldn't hear 90% of Old Trafford make any noise at all or 90% of Old Trafford didn't make any noise at all. To their credit, the group of United fans to our left kept up quite a reasonable amount of singing until the 68th minute when even they gave up. It was remarkable that they seemed to have strong Mancunian accents but quite weird that most of their songs seem to be about players from the 70s, 80s and 90s. I wonder what today's crop of United players think about the supporters ignoring them and singing for 10 minutes about a player who last wore a red shirt more than a quarter of a century ago.
It was great to catch up with some folks at half time and at the final whistle, some of whom I haven't seen for ages despite the fact that we've both attended many of the same matches. I guess that it is not surprising given that our away support is at least 1000 or so for every away match. At half time, my match analysis was that we were playing four Steve Cooks. I don't know how many blocks our defensive players made but they sure as heck stopped United getting close to goal. There was commitment, passion energy, determination, oh I could write a long list. That was the big difference between United and us.
The last 20 minutes of singing alone would rank this as one of the greatest matches. What do all those United fans do with the extra 10 to 15 minutes saved by leaving early?
To think that we had to settle for only winning three-nil, is a good reflection on our performance at the Theatre of Dreams. We now know it's called that because most of the attendees use their half and half scarves as pillows to have a snooze for 90 minutes. Outside, I joked to the scarf sellers that they won't sell many more half and halves now and wouldn't it have been a better investment to have just stocked up with Bournemouth scarves. One of our supporters behind me, offered to buy me a scarf but I'd already decided that I was going to get one myself. I negotiated a knockdown price. I'll never wear it but I'm going to put it somewhere where I can see it regularly to remind me of the day and date when we went to Old Trafford and were disappointed only to be allowed a three goals margin of victory!
Not even getting soaked through again, spending an hour at Manchester Victoria and yet another one at Wigan North Western could dampen my spirts. Arriving four and a quarter hour’s late at my accommodation and missing MOTD did not matter. Never mind the talk of history being made, it marks a corner being turned. We have beaten and drawn with three clubs in the top six in recent weeks we are top of the form table over the past five matches. Only Fulham have scored more, over the last five and no team have conceded fewer.
I am more than happy with my own personal recent form table. Attended 3, Won 3, Scored 8, Conceded 1.
A couple of pics from Saturday (sorry about the quality):
Anyone got a pic of the scoreboard at full time?
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(guardless trains anyone?) It was that kind of day in the end.
