This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of majesty,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this Clarence Park….
Ooops, sorry have come over a bit Shakespeare this week as while the rain didn’t stop the mighty Saints this weekend a little bit of kulture did mean that yours truly wasn’t able to put in a shift on the soggy terraces. I know – a fickle fan, but what is a gal meant to do? Much as I am a mighty Saints convert, a hot Saturday afternoon date with David Tennant was not something I could give up. Oh, alright, to be a little more accurate; David Tennant, TLF and 1159 other people at the Barbican Theatre.
This impending collision of my two favourite worlds (sounds a bit like a horoscope… “The rising winter alignment of yellow and blue moons will be partially eclipsed by two colliding stars as David rises out of the planet Richard II”) was one of the reasons why the planned New Year’s Day adventure to Biggleswade was extra important. Apart from hopefully getting the promotion express back on track after a slight derailment at Hungerford it would keep any risk of football famine at bay. Sadly the Biggleswade pitch couldn’t cope with the tempest- like conditions and the game was postponed by 10.30am News Years Day.
What I hadn’t appreciated was that I wasn’t the only one keen on me spending my first day of 2014 in the glamorous environs of Biggleswade (or “Thingy-woteva-sade” as it became known on New Years Eve, as its name changed at a rate directly proportionate to mojito consumption levels). Turns out that my footballing absences give Mr TLF a little bit of his very own ‘me time’. To the extent that when I informed him of the postponement and the fact that I was going nowhere his face didn’t light up in the way I would have expected upon hearing this alleged ‘good news’. There was no response of, “all’s well that ends well.” Nope. Instead he suggested that I could perhaps go out and pretend to be at football and then come back at 7pm; cold and wet and he’d have my dinner ready.
And to think of the effort I wasted on sneaking this fixture into my calendar. Casually over a nice lunch out I mentioned in the vaguest of terms the idea of going to the Biggleswade game, “Something I was toying with but hadn’t really got any strong views about, and subject to his opinion would take a measure for measured decision about the whole thing. Didn’t really mind either way really.” This feigned lack of real interest seemed to be quite convincing, until he asked where on earth Biggleswade was located….and I blabbed the whole plan – train times, distance from station to ground, likely ETA back in St Albans, intended train snacks, the year Biggleswade FC was founded and how they celebrate twelfth night (ok, that one is probably pushing my luck). Clearly a career in M15 does not await TLF. Fortunately he was distracted by the arrival of the main course as I committed this schoolboy error and my fears that he would realise what I was up to turned out to be much ado about nothing.
Talking of Shakespeare, do you know there are a mere two football references in his entire output? I am talking about ACTUAL lines, not badly interpreted puns. Heaven forfend that you would ever catch me doing something like that – in your (midsummer night’s) dreams. I have a steange feeling though that there has probably been enough Shakespeare for one week so I will leave that for another time….Just be grateful I didn’t try anything with Coriolanus.
Ye Olde Lost Foxe
Thing I Learnt Today
If you are going to miss a 4-0 home win, then make sure you miss it for something almost as good – cheers Mr Tennant!