Good old Oscar. Always been a BIG fan. When facing the grim realities of the number of weeks that TLF is behind with her regular dose of footballing ramblings, I turn to the big hitters for some justification and there he is, Big Oscar, as they don’t call him, coming up with a suitable one liner. And let’s not forget, “Football is all very well as a game for rough girls, but is hardly suitable for delicate boys.”
That’s double TLF brownie points as far as I am concerned.
So yes. Very late.
In fairness some were almost written and then life came between me and my keyboard plus added distractions such as being asked to write an article for the programme on International Womens’ Day which took up a fair amount of nervous energy, TLFs not being big on deadlines or indeed specified subject matter.
So here we go. A bumper crop to bring us all up to speed before I fall desperately behind again, including aforementioned programme article as I act like wot a proper writer does and ‘repackage the same content through a variety of media.’
MiB (Men in Beer)
The Mighty Saints were at home to Truro and by some mystic TLF powers, Mr TLF was once again on beer selling duty with Mr Hill.
TLF was of the view that with this extra pair of paws on tap (BOOMBOOM!) her presence behind the bar was not required. “It would be nice to watch the whole game. I’ll only be in the way. Especially as it won’t be busy.” And thus the men were left to their own beer stall devices and bearing no resemblance to Dirty Den/Frank Butcher/Grant Mitchell/Alfie Moon/Mick Carter (delete according to your peak Eastenders viewing period). Meanwhile a man in black was out on the pitch, clutching a whistle and bearing no resemblance to a man in charge of a football match.
Like the good TLF that I am, it only felt right to offer support to the bar team in advance of the half time rush. One look at their faces however and I could see that the rush had been pretty much constant and TLF’s pre-match bar traffic prediction had been about as good as the refereeing. Truro might not have brought that many fans, but the ones that had made it were VERY thirsty. A suitably guilty TLF took on bottle opening duties to help the belaugured stout yeomen of the bar…..and kept very quiet.
To be honest the slightly messy bar was a haven of quiet and order compared with the second half. I’ve never seen a referee give a red card to a substitute who was warming up before, but am guessing that once they see red, they should be beating a hasty retreat to the dressing room, not returning to the bench as the Truro player did. Equally irritating were the antics (such a 70s word) of the Truro players as they tried to run the clock down once they had the lead, through a variety of histrionics and generally niggley-ness. Hard then to feel any sympathy when the Mighty Saints popped up with a 94th minute equaliser. Mind you I know the real reason that those Truro players were on their knees; the beer was gone and so was our guest barman.
Man at work
Cheers!
Supervisor Fox
Sisters are doing it for themselves: International Womens Day….
Back in August 2013, having just moved to this fair City, I pitched up for my first (non) League St Albans City game. I’ll let you into a secret. I was nervous. An interloper, a newbie. Years of following the Mighty Foxes, yes, but knowledge of the Mighty Saints and non-league football? ZERO. NAHDAH. And worse than that…I was a GIRL (well ok I was 43 years young). And life had taught me by then, that some of my fellow supporters (even those supporting the same team as me) were of the view us women shouldn’t be at the match. And if we were there it was because our boyfriend bought us, or we fancied the players. And please ladyeez, don’t dare offer an opinion on the formation, celebrate wildly or question the ref’s interpretation of the offside rule. And if you went on your own, well you were just WEIRD.
Maybe I was hanging out at the wrong football grounds, but my debut at Clarence Park, proved my fears to be utterly unfounded. All I have ever experienced with the Mighty Saints is a massive welcome and a huge sense of community and inclusivity. Of course we disagree about the things that football fans always disagree about – but we are all allowed to; male or female; we can have a view.
I’m lucky of course; I happen to have met and made friends with some of the best female supporters I know. There is Sarah, whose first Saints game was at the age of 14 away at Bristol in the FA Cup. She went with her Dad and all the stats show that a parent taking you to a match is how 51% of female football fans got into the beautiful game. Then Julie, a Liverpool fan who graced Clarence Park with her presence the same year because the Reds weren’t playing. Now a dedicated home and away-er and occasional operator of turnstiles. And Donna, a Watford fan since 1982 and since 2015 a home and away regular. And finally Helen, a regular at Clarence Park since 1996 when she brought her German pen pal and was hooked. She is passing it on too – with young son Jack resplendent in his first City shirt this season.
There are others too – women who I might not have a beer with, but who always smile and say hello…even when we are both freaked out at seeing each other out of context; somewhere other than a football ground.
A football club can be at the heart of its community and to do that to the best of its ability it needs to embrace the diversity of that community. 36% of our Young Saints are girls, and yet only 5% of our season ticket holders are female. Let’s talk to each other, make each other feel welcome and keep that 36% coming back as they grow up to be the Sarahs, Donnas, Julies and Helens of this world. Although if they could all support Lesta City too that would be marvellous.
25% of the Saintettes
New openings
The impending arrival of Dulwich, renowned for being both thirsty and with less distance to travel bring greater in number that your Turos et al, meant it was to be all hands to the beer stall. Preparation for this kind of match doesn’t start on the Satday morning, oh no. TLF was out midweek in search of a bottle opener upgrade, having decreed the sharing of one prehistoric specimen between three bar staff was not conducive to effective customer service, protection of hands or bar staff bonhomie. Fortunately, the hard work paid off and TLF was armed with a beer spanner of superior quality. Sadly though not armed with a Mr TLF who was benched with a man lurgy of some description. We were rescued by Red Julie who did the decent thing and stepped into the Mr TLF gap left behind the bar. Good job too as a crowd of over 1000 means running the Three Brewers bar is, well, a Three Person job.
Even with an extra barrel ordered in, we were all out of draft before half time had even arrived, and so the beer spanner made its long awaited debut. Different class. Showed those bottle tops who was boss and out his predecessors to shame.
Behold, the holy bottle opener
The only fly in the beer ointment? TLF was running a half marathon the next day and so was 100% beer seller with not even a hint of a being a beer consumer. Athletes do sometimes have to make big sacrifices.
Mo Fox
Mugged off
It is with great regret that we have to announce that Chez TLF has suffered a small casualty on the hot beverage container front as the status of Mr TLF’s mug plumbs to new depths.
Previously the mug had been the victim of some spectacularly cack-handed washing up, leading to an unfortunate period where new damage to the mug was believed to have a bearing on the success of various football teams, which culminated in being threatened by a shot gun. Sadly after a period of counselling, things haven’t got any better for the mug, like a leaky defence, it can no longer contain what’s thrown, well poured, into it.
Not fit for purpose
There are very few places for a mug to go in this situation. Like a player who has lost that yard of pace or a manager who cannot adapt their once innovative approach it is time to find a new role. Pundit? Physio? Something completely away from the game?
The options for a leaky mugs are limited. But when you are commemorative, you’ll be looked after, even if your future is pen, not tea shaped.
The Mug Rescuer
A new purpose in life