Conference beckoning

Tonight Aldershot played Southend. It was the third last game of the season and to have any real hope of remaining in League 2, they had to win. Everyone knew it was a fight for survival. Everyone except the players, it would seem.

Mark, a guy who Nicktor deals with for work, decided to join us for the game. He’s a lovely Scottish chap, married to a Melbourne girl called Sharon. I found this out when I asked how he could possibly drink something as tasteless as Fosters. He laughed and said it certainly wasn’t a habit he picked up in Australia. He told me that he once went into a bar in Melbourne and asked for a Fosters and the bloke behind the bar said “Sorry, mate, we don’t sell that here.

In the pub, we chatted a bit about Sydney until Nicktor became bored with listening to it and made us talk about the glory days of Aldershot Town Football Club. Mark perfectly understands the sort of thing the team has been through. He supports Dunfirmline who have had their fair share of woes over the years. Naturally we spent a bit of time bagging the glory hounds who support the big teams while never going to a game.

Eventually, time ticked by and we set off for the Slab to join the other old timers for the kick-off.

To be completely honest, it was a dreadfully boring game. Neither team wanted it. There was no passion, no desire; it was as if they just wanted the 90 minutes to finish so they could go off and do whatever it is that defeated footballers do when not being defeated.

The first half was a yawn-fest with very little action within cooee of the goal. It ended 0-0 and Nicktor was very apologetic to Mark about wasting his time.

In the second half, Southend managed to score twice. The first goal followed a bit of a goal mouth scramble from which a goal was inevitable. The second was a penalty which, according to one of the away fans, was never a penalty. (It was too far away for any of us down on the Slab to see.)

Actually, while both teams were as bad as one another, at least the Southend defence was working well. Anything that came even close was dealt with swiftly and effectively…not that anything came even remotely close.

And so it ended 0-2 and, heads bowed, the crowded shuffled home. The funniest moment came when the man of the match was announced. ‘Funny’ because we didn’t think there was one. Perhaps they were being ironic. Or sarcastic.

There’s still two games to go but an entirely different team needs to play them if we want to win. I’m sure it’s not the worst Aldershot game I’ve seen but it was mighty close.

We saw Mark off at the station, full of apologies which he waved away, saying he thoroughly enjoyed it and wanted us to come up to Edinburgh and see Dunfirmline play Rangers next season. That cheered us up with Nicktor immediately making plans for a boys weekend in Scotland.

Nicktor never stays sad for very long.

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One Response to Conference beckoning

  1. Josephine Cook says:

    Even though I heard it all except for the boys night out WAY TO GO NICKTOR,I read it to dad
    love us both xx

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