Tonight Nicktor picked me up and we trotted off to Aldershot. While this was lovely, an added delight was the fact that Scotland Mark was down and joined us at the Rec.
Of course we went to the pub first for dinner and beer and were eventually joined by Bill. The company was great and we had a jolly good chat about all things football, political and pension. Eventually we headed down to the ground for the off. It was going to be a test for my knee given I’ve not been for ages, because of it.
Earlier in the day I’d walked Mirinda to the station, the first time for a very long while. It felt great; almost like I’m back to normal. Well, as normal as flappy feet can get. But my knee seems to be fully recovered…at least as far as walking up the station is concerned.
The day was typically autumnal: cool, crisp, grey and no rain. While there was a lot of children and cyclist dodging, the walk in was lovely.
After the usual Farnham visit, back at home I Skyped mum for a bit before having lunch with the dogs. Then, of course, it was time to head up to the park.
There was a lot of running around then Emma decided to lie flat on her tummy in a muddy puddle, earning her an undercarriage hose down back at home. Freya, of course, was perfectly well behaved…
Late in the day (after a bit of leaf litter removal) I dyed my beard. There’s special beard and moustache dye which I’d purchased and decided I’d give it a try. Like hair dye, there’s no colour until it’s set in place a bit. Unlike hair dye it only takes five minutes.
When the timer on my phone went off I looked up into the mirror.
I thought it looked a bit weird. I was right. Obviously the dye is on my skin as well as the hair. It’s very Groucho Marx. It washed up okay and Nicktor even said he thought it looked good, though he thought I was taking the Spanish look a bit far.
And so, to the football.
It wasn’t a bad display. In fact, the Shots played some excellent snap passing football. They even scored a goal…which was deemed off side by the linesman and disallowed. (Everyone on the Slab and most of the North Stand were convinced it wasn’t off side.) There were a few chances which just needed a finish. We played better than Eastleigh who bought along quite a good, and loud, bunch of supporters. But, when the final whistle blew, the score remained a dismal 0-1.
There was some debate following the Eastleigh goal. Nicktor and I were convinced the decision by the goalie to punch the ball away rather than catch it led directly to the goal while the other Slabbites believed it was a poor clearance after the goalie that gifted the opposition the goal. Bill agreed with us, in a fashion, believing it was important to go backwards to the first thing. I suggested that this would mean the kick-off at the beginning of the game was to blame then.
Late on, the famous Aldershot Fog started rising from the East Bank end of the ground. It was all very ethereal but, sadly, it didn’t get thick enough to warrant a decision to abandon the match and save us for another day.
In conversation on the way home, we decided that it would have been a fair draw but, really, we should have won…had we scored two goals.