“I will prepare and some day my chance will come”

I’m not sure Abe Lincoln was talking about running his local non-league football club shop but TLF’s chance to be in loco parentis of the merchandise arrived on the evening of the FA Cup game against Corinithians. TLF doesn’t really do numbers, but put me behind a sales counter and all fingers and toes will be employed to make sure nothing goes awry and excess bon homie will be deployed to make all shoppers welcome.

Of course double bon homie (and more digits to help the counting) is always welcome and so behind the counter that evening were the dream team that is TLF and Julie. Some people view us as Morecambe & Wise others more Cagney & Lacey but either way, I like to think that there is the potential for us to become a great retail double act.

Not only do we instinctively know whether it’s our turn to take the money or record the items sold in the holy sales notebook, thereby ensuring seamless service for the customer, but we also have an unerring ability to boost the takings. It would be too tawdry to talk actual figures but at the last count I think our wallets accounted for 23.2% of all takings for the evening.

We didn’t just take away ‘stuff’ though. We took away a bit of joy. Not from the football pitch I assure you, which ended in a disappointing 1-1 draw, but in interaction with the punters. Selling the last programme to an incredibly relieved St Albans stalwart or a badge to a delighted visiting supporter who gets a badge from every ground he goes to and was worried we wouldn’t have them (outrageous thought!) it was all good fun. Even the many people who asked if we sold tea were grateful for our directions to the actual tea emporium. And the man who seemed very attached to his can of Diamond White (we were guessing it wasn’t his first) was very chatty and shook our hands; even though we didn’t sell him anything. I think if we had been selling booze he might have parted with more of his hard earned cash than the shopkeepers did.

It was a great evening but TLF recognises that she remains a shopkeeping apprentice, with more to learn. Trying to watch the whole first half from the confines of the shop, for example, will mean your neck being turned to the right for 45 minutes. That in turn will mean that you will take home a cricked neck to go with your latest SACFC garments. Although on the plus side, the neck will recover, unlike the wallet.

Open all hours Fox

Match stats
St Albans City 1 Corinthian Casuals 1
Beverages: 1 bottle water and 1 packet low calorie, low fat popcorn. I hate week night football.
Losing raffle and goalden goal tickets: 10 and 1 but all given to me by Trevor which was kind.

Melbourne Park, Chelmsford.

Midway through through the first half, the Mighty Saints are 2-0 down and having a shocker. Our midfield dynamo and captain for the day Solomon Sambou advances on goal, bringing a little bit of hope into the bleakest TLF heart. ‘Shooooot’, we cry and Solomon responds with a disappointing and unsuccessful pass to a colleague.

“Carpe effing diem Solomon!!” shouts TLF. There was a pause, some tumble weed passed TLF and Barry and Trevor raised quizzically eyebrows at this little outburst.

Without doubt the poshest thing TLF has ever shouted at a football match or indeed the pulchra game. I’m not sure where it came from to be honestus (no seriously). I mean obviously we are the Forti Saints from Verulamium, but the Latin isn’t usually part of the terrace Lingua Franca.

Julie had tracked down a parco run as part of our away diem, but the ordnance testing that took place at Gunpowder Park was nothing to do with the occupying Romani and post-run refuelling with a Full Anglicus breakfast has never made TLF feel the need to use the ancient language before.

Still we all needed a diversion, as it really wasn’t looking bonum and the mood was bleak as the ref blew for the end of the first half. Despite the warmth of the September solis, you got the sense that the players would be getting a very chilly reception from the gaffer at half time or dimidium temporis as they call it on Match of the Dies.

Well whatever he said it worked. Within seven minutes of the second half starting, it was 2-2 after two thoroughly deserved penalties had been tucked away by Ralston Gabriel. But Ralston wasn’t finished and by the 67th minute the boys from Verulamium were 4-2 up, which was how it finished.

Us away fans were occupying the twilight zone; somewhere between complete delight and utter bemusement. The wildest optimist wouldn’t have bet on a draw after that first half performance, nevermind a vincere.

Truly a ludum of duo halves.

Perdidit vulpes

Shakespeare and step-mums. They know their stuff.

And yes contrary to popular belief and a line from a Bogart film, it is ‘on’, not ‘of’.

It is apparently a point of some debate as to what Propsero was going on about at the end of The Tempest. Man’s mortality? The fact that his magical powers don’t amount to hill of beans in this crazy world (now we really are mixing our Bards and Bogarts), the list, or at least the internet goes on. But now, having been gifted this badge over pre-match brunch before Lesta played Liverpool in the early kick off, TLF thinks she’s got it sussed.

The ‘we’ that Prospero refers to is of course, your football team and every associated poignant moment, whoever you may support and their never-ending ability to put hope in your heart. Even when your head knows better.

Take TLF. First Lesta trip of the season was a lunch time fixture against Liverpool. Yes, the clean-sheet accumulating, high flying, free scoring Liverpool. TLF was, in the run up to this game, a study in expectation management. General view when asked – at least 3-1 to Liverpool and the occasional cold sweat when contemplating Wes Morgan facing up to Mo Salah.

But cometh the morning and cometh the stuff that dreams are made on. The frisson of excitement and the belief that anything is possible, as the new season ticket is awoken from its pre-season slumbers and slipped confidently into the wallet. After all these years, TLF can’t contain herself. It IS exciting and anything IS possible.
Well almost.

2-1 home defeats probably weren’t what Prospero was referring to. But if I had to have a dream 2-1 defeat that would be it. Entertaining, with a sniff of a draw and not embarrassed. The other positive with an early kick off was that TLF was back in St Albans to catch the end of the 3pm kick-offs on Five Live; always an easier experience when your team has already played. Although TLF does have to keep an ear out for the fortunes of West Ham, in the interests of domestic harmony. Oh dear.

As TLF parked the car in the drive, the Hammers did at least seem to have secured their first point of the season. By the time I was through the front door, Wolves had scored and a gloomy pall pervaded the living room.

Mr TLF tried to find solace in one of his favourite antique-y type programmes; Flog It. Being broadcast on this particular Satday from, yep; Wolverhampton.
Nightmare.
Ever-optimistic Fox

Well it wasn’t really a pub.
And it wasn’t really mine.

And unless you had really been at the pre-match Stella I don’t think any of the glamourous outdoor bar staff bore even a slight resemblance to that doyen of the Queen Vic, Barbara Windsor. And don’t even think of suggesting more Mitchell Brothers than Mitchell Mother or there will be trouble.

But it was still technically a bar. There was a table separating punters from staff. We had beverages to flog and TLF and Julie were making the most of bar style badinage and pint pouring.

At the end of the last unsuccessful Clarence Park trip, TLF had vowed to eschew (BOOM!) the teetotal matchday experience, purely in the interests of bringing the Mighty Saints luck of course. Offering to help with the Three Brewers bar as a salesperson in addition to embracing the lucky Stella, seemed the obvious thing to do – consumer and purveyor would surely mean double luck. Such an approach did mean that TLF was nowhere near the moolah of course; Michael was I/C money belt, the general consensus being that pints of Stella are not performance enhancing on the mathematics front.

And early on it looked like TLF’s commitment would pay off, with the Mighty Saints taking the lead. Cue suitable celebrations in the outdoor bar/shop viewing area. Cue slightly more raucous TLF celebrations upon checking her golden goal ticket. Our erstwhile shopkeeper and programme editor did think about sending out a warning message across the walkie talkie ring of steel that we now deploy on matchday, but he quickly realised that even after two pints a golden goal crazed TLF does not pose a clear and present danger.

There was however danger on the pitch, as the Mighty Saints’ lead lasted a whole three minutes.

And that was that. We served more beer. The punters were nice if slightly overloaded with £20 notes and nothing smaller. As beer demand slowed, the dynamic stand in duo were released from our temporary place of work to watch most of the second half from behind the goal and so like everyone else grew more and more frustrated with our team, the ref and the opposition’s antics. I think I preferred being behind bar(s), but TLF’s not bitter….just hop-ing for more.

Time gentlemen please Fox (or at least let’s call time on puns like that)

Match stats
St Albans City 1 Eastbourne Borough 1
Attendance: 510
Goalden goal winning ticket: MINE!
Consumption: A draw inspiring 3 pints and one bag bacon fries; if only we could work out what would make for a winning combination