It’s almost like TS Elliot was part of the Adrian-organised, Fullers sponsored posse’s trip to see the Mighty Saints take on Welling.
The trip started with a precise schedule; at least that was the plan. As it was Trevor was unable to meet TLF and Lee at the designated hour due to a domestic rodent problem, which had the potential to render our group saver tickets invalid (I understand two is not technically a ‘group’). Any concerns in that department were however outweighed by the idea of a full awayday football trip. Julie and Adrian (chief organiser) were ensconced on the 9.33am that pulled into St Albans and I like to think that our presence lent a certain quality to the first class carriage.
First stop on the watering-hole line was The Admiralty; not the government office responsible for the Navy, but a Fullers pub in Trafalgar Square. TLF, being a modest drinker and it being an early hour; 10.15am to be precise, doffed the light weight’s cap and kicked off with a cup of tea while her fellow travellers hit the beers. That kept TLF occupied for at least 20 minutes and then it was time to get on the Amstel. A hearty brunch and additions to our party assembled, including Trevor who had successfully defeated and removed the rodent, we were off to Welling via Charing Cross.
Brunched and ready for Welling
The first pub you come across when you approach Welling High Street from the train station is The Plough and Harrow and my advice dear reader, would be, in the immortal words of Dionne Warwick, just walk on by. It might have had bacon fries. It might have had a random atlas on the fireplace and they might have put the Winter Olympics on the TV so we could see GB win gold. But it’s not what TLF would call homely. That might be down to the draft cider that didn’t actually taste like cider. Or it might have been the punter who, when he wasn’t shouting c u next Tuesday into his phone was glaring at the invading Saints fans. We didn’t stay for a second round.
Bacon fries do not a good pub make
The Nag’s Head served Amstel, grasped the concept of cleanliness and also contained a Phil who had skipped the London bit of the adventure. Precision timing, you won’t be surprised to hear, wasn’t quite the priority it had been by this point but are our eyes were sufficiently fixed on kick off or at least the chance to check out what Welling’s bar had to offer.
Two floors as it turned out. What a stroke of genius. One bar too busy, pop up the stairs to the other one. The other innovative feature was unisex loos by the top floor bar. Slightly confusing for your average TLF who has been drinking since 10.49am.
Only one of those beers is mine I promise
Warning. This pre-match jollity will not be sustained.
Some bonhomie with the gathered troops and it was time for kick off. What could possibly go wrong?
Quite a lot as it turns out. Pessimistic mutterings, after a goalless first half, about not making possession count proved prophetic. Saints took the lead, promptly let Welling equalise and then let them score two more. Still Zac won golden goal (although if there was VAR for gambling we would have been calling for it) and I managed to nick two of his chips. Biggest result of the afternoon.
Some days it is all about the journey. And the company. And the beer. And definitely NOT the football.
Fullers Fox