Deck the halls with boughs of holly

Tis the season to be jolly
Well…..from a footballing and Clarence Park point of view perhaps not that jolly. More like a bleak midwinter. I arrive for our home game against Margate, already in my own little grumpy TLF world which is exacerbated by the heavy pall that hangs over the ground. Bottom but one, manager-less and secretary-less, there is a general despond around the place. Andy the burger man, often lugubrious but always with a twinkle, leans against the hoardings watching the players warm up, “I was quite cheerful until I got here Soph and now look at me. No one’s happy and it’s catching.” As someone who was far from happy after a particular pants Friday night out (home at 1.30am and sober is NOT acceptable in TLF’s guide to partaying) I am sensing a certain synergy (ugh) with that vibe and thus feel that it is only fair to inflict on the innocent parties that are Julie and Andy the sorry tale of my Friday evening – think bad travel and unacceptable levels of sobriety and you are almost there.
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Tra la la la!!!!

While I tell of Yueltide Treasure
By which I mean that I am off to the shop where I repeat the same sorry tale of my unhappy Friday evening at Lee, but a bit louder and with gestures. He let’s me vent.
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
Yep. I get it.

Don we now our gay apparel
Fortunately for our esteemed programme editor and shopkeeper (sadly unlike the one in Mr Benn he is not resplendent in a fez), I have been inspired by Zac’s sartorial elegance and am drawn to a new purchase at the Mighty Saints fine apparel emporium.
Fa la la la la, la la la la.
OK. Possibly that might do it on the ‘la’ front.

What every well dressed TLF is  wearing this winter.

What every well dressed TLF is wearing this winter.

Laughing, quaffing all together
After a good rant and some minor retail therapy my mood had improved, but a good quaff would surely see me right. And so it proved. The gang are in residence and in particularly fine form. I have had the temerity to steal John’s chair but my punishment is merely to share it with him when he returns to the bar. I get the full download from the disaster that was Lowestoft and the, ahem, constructive dialogue that took place between Farmer Snr and Jnr and our then management team and some players. It is perhaps not a dis-similar sentiment to the opinion that is shared by them, Ray and others as I embark on my ‘unhappy-with-a-posh-curry story’.
– So did you pay for it gal?
– No
– Well then. What are you moaning about? Happy days!!

Well they were probably a bit kinder than when they were at Lowestoft. And they do have a point (again).
Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Heedless of the wind and weather
We settle down for the first half, where in the current climate, we are delighted to not get hypothermia and also go in at 0-0 and revel in the name allocated to our pint-sized ref; Tinky-Winky.
Fa la la la la, blah blah blah blah.

Hail the second half goals ye lads and lasses (I might be going a bit off piste lyric wise I admit)
Oh yes! The mighty Saints score two in quick succession and then a beautiful third where Sam Corcoran has the sense to ignore our demands to ‘put it wide’ and beats the keeper for a beautiful third.
Fa, la

Fill the mead cup and spill the lager
Such is the joy and bonhomie that John Farmer feels the need to throw me in the air, “Don’t spill my Stella……….all over your Dad………” GULP. But fortunately Farmer Senior, senior, takes it all in good heart. After all we are the Mighty Saints. We have won 3-0, as remarkably have the mighty Lesta who, for good measure pop up to the peak of the Prem again.

Johnny Farmer, he drinks lager. And I spill it over his dad.

Johnny Farmer, he drinks lager. And I spill it over his dad.


Festive Fox

Match Stats
St Albans 3 Margate 0
Attendance: 421
Lager consumed/spilt: 2 pints Stella, 1 pint something interesting from the Xmas Market
Snackage: festive duck wrap and bacon fries
Dismal festive raffle investment: 10 tickets

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