Ice Ice Baby

“My thoughts and wishes bend again towards France.”

Not sure if Hamlet’s Laertes is booked on the same Eurostar as me but I hope someone has told him there’s an alcohol ban….Mind you even TLF can eschew (BOOM!) a beer at 08.55.

Ah oui. C’est vrai. Le TLF alle en France.

Don’t worry. I’m going to be very careful and I think it likely that my lurid pink cagoule will leave hooligans and over-enthusiastic gendarmes trembling dans le presence of TLF.

Mr TLF has been left with strict instructions to, “leave the wall chart ALONE.” I fear its removal slightly more than him using the wrong pen to fill it in. I don’t want to sound picky but once you start with a pen you have stick with it for the rest of the tournament (NB Roy Hodgson this rule doesn’t apply to your team selection).

In between packing and checking for the 400th fois ‘PassportMoneyTickets’ TLF did manage to catch a bit of that Hungary game. And it should be all about them and their unexpected win, with their 40 year old keeper in his grey joggers. But it’s not. It’s all about Iceland, a country with the population of Lesta, who worked their socks off against Portugal. Portugal are one of TLF’s many sweepstake teams but to be honest, wasn’t cheering them for a second.

In many ways I don’t mind what today’s Russia-Slovakia result brings. I’d just like it to be a nice day out please. It will be interesting to see how Swiss fans react to Shaqiri who possibly due to a minor sulk that he doesn’t wear the captain’s armband has indicated that should he get the call from Kosovo, the country of his birth and now recognised by FIFA, he might just start playing for them instead of Switzerland. Very motivational the night before your second group game je ne pense pas.

We are onto the second set of group games and still not a 0-0 draw…long may it continue.

Ooh. Hang on, before you go……

PassportMoneyTickets.
Phew.

The bare essentials

The bare essentials


Fixtures aujourd’hui

Russia v Slovakia 2pm
Romania v Switzerland 5pm
France v Albania 8pm

Results

Austria 0 v Hungary 2
Portugal 1 v Iceland 1

Manger ou Boire?

From Slovakia, something for the vegetarians
http://www.cooks.com/recipe/151c678t/green-bean-soup-with-sour-cream-slovak-recipe.html

Le website au jour

Well in the hope that my Eurostar train will safely deliver the TLS en France I hope to be visiting two of these…
http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/football/34809687

Fox Verne
Around a northern bit of France in fewer than 80 days

Posted in France 2016 | 1 Comment

Spain pique late

My boss has a set of coasters in the middle of her meeting table, which everyone ignores and I find it quite pleasing before a meeting to sort of slide them about while still leaving them stacked on top of each other – all asymmetrical like. I can only think that the boss of the set designer for the BBC’s France studio has something similar as surely that’s where that bloody table design came from. More on ITV’s studio table soon…the fun never stops with TLF.

A day of football interrupted by work meant a greater reliance on the BBC Iplayer

The BBC had looked kindly on me and allocated Robbie Savage to the 2pm kick off so contact with him was minimal and as a backdrop to work. I know I always bang on about him, but honestly why is any of my licence fee going towards someone whose insight stretches to, “Johnny Williams; he’s been very very good”? So I missed Spain doing their very best to not beat the Czech Republic…still they got there in the end and added to the glorious stat which is that 6 of the last 9 goals they have scored at Euro Championships have been in the last 10 minutes. FACT!

Blessed with the usual stop start commentary on the train for the early evening kick off as the weak signal comes and goes in a wayward Harry Kane corner kind of away. I’m not having a go at him. SEVEN corners he took all season for Spurs…SEVEN and now he’s England’s first choice corner taker. As the French would not say “Comment le f*uck?”

Anyway sorry back to Ireland and Sweden. A good game for the radio as it happened. Nothing to do with the quality of football and more to do with the striking yellow and green crowd. A full ninety minutes of that would have left me a bit mal a la tete. A great performance from Ireland but must be slightly frustrating to play so well and only draw with a team that had ZERO shots on target (if you didn’t see it and that sounds confusing it was an own goal that gave Sweden a point).

If there is one way I like to spend a tournament evening it’s tucked up in bed with Sir Gary of Lineker, Terry Henry and ooh my goodness who is this? Gianlucca Vialli. Have I died and gone to heaven? (Rio Ferdinand can make the drinks and reminisce about West Ham with Mr TLF). The smoothness of the studio was matched by the smoothness of Italian coach, Conte, who in stereotypical fashion was sharp suited and the epitome of cool. Not so cool perhaps after the bloody nose he received as part of their exuberant goal celebrations. But it was a fantastic goal scored by Giaccherini (pronounced at least by the BBC, as ‘Jackoreenoh), who I had already picked out. Not as a potential goal scoring threat (in my defence Belgium hadn’t spotted that either) but as having the perfect name for a slightly unlucky but spirited hero of a nineteenth century Italian novel. Or maybe that’s just me?

Anyway a really enjoyable game, picked out by many pundits as a potential cracker – it avoided that kiss of death and gave a great example of how a team of not brilliant individual talent can triumph over a collection of assorted talented individuals. Forza Italia! I say (and if that doesn’t mean it’s downhill from now on for the Azurri I don’t know what does).

Today sees the final four teams who have yet to kick a ball in anger make it onto the pitch. The Hapsburg derby might not sound glamorous but as Austria are captained by Lesta’s mighty Fuchs (yes it really is fox in Austrian) my loyalties are on a clear default setting. And then Iceland take on Portugal. The debutants play the dilettante. Won’t surprise you to guess I am sitting on the more northern side of the fence for that one.

Keep up. It’s only Tuesday!!

Fixtures aujourd’hui
Austria v Hungary 5pm
Portugal v Iceland 8pm
Zut alors! Ou est le game de 2pm? Pfffft.

Results
Spain 1 v Czech Republic 0
Republic of Ireland 1 v Sweden 1
Belgium 0 v Italy 2

Manger ou Boire?
Time for something substantial. Step forward Iceland and as the markets are currently full of asparagus something seasonal. Good to know it is suitable for a ‘potluck occasion’…so if your Icelandic neighbours pop round tonight you’ll be fine.
http://www.food.com/recipe/icelandic-asparagus-ham-bake-218179

Le website au jour

A guide to every kit in the tournament. Personally I quite like the Russian pyjama number…..
http://www.fourfourtwo.com/features/ranked-every-kit-euro-2016-which-gets-your-vote#:xC4hUvypvBnIuA

Louis Fox XIV
The Sun Fox

Posted in France 2016 | Comments Off on Spain pique late

Plus ca change la meme chose

Another tournament, another location and still you could almost write the script.

A jittery performance by the hosts, but they saw out a win thanks to a cracking goal from West Ham boy Dimitri Payet, that had TLF running upstairs to relay the bon news to a sulking Mr TLF whose judgement on the game by then was, “beaucoup de tosh.” Was relieved that my mangling of the Marseillaise earlier that day to a French colleague hadn’t jinxed anything – she tells me that she heard me singing words that she never even knew were in her national anthem…TLF French scholar.

Mr TLF has proved that he hasn’t given enough attention to his pre-tournament build up:
“What are we doing today?””
“Watching football.”
“But there’s not football all day?”
“Well 2pm, 5pm and 8pm.”
“We don’t have to watch all 3 games do we? And where do you think you are going with that blu tac and wallchart?”

TLF feigns a slight problem with her oreilles and buries self in a Euro 2016 guide.

Satday proved to be a financially depressing day as the betting slips of shame pile (a new interactive and bank account draining feature in 2016) grew in a similar way to a Lens slagheap. There was much to admire on the pitch however with Gareth Bale writing his own script only to be overshadowed by Hal Robson-Kanu’s late winner. This game also had probably the best range of hairstyles with Bale’s flowing locks, Ramsey’s peroxide blond and some excellent mohicans from the Slovakians. A little more effort on the tournament cheveux from some other teams would not go amiss. Slovakia, who I think could get out of this group also provided the first comedy name moments. Weiss could certainly have put more effort in – bit of an idle weiss if you ask us (thanks Iain). And I really hoped Mac would get sent off so we could tell him to get his coat (there’s weeks of this yet!).

As for Ingurland? Some lovely football in the first half and still only one point to show for it. We have the two leading strikers from the Prem in that squad – should one be taking the corners and the other one be on the bench? Perhaps now we do have a Plan B. Just the wrong Plan B.

And if that outcome wasn’t depressing enough for your average Ingurland follower we had the 3 days of incidents involving a small proportion of morons from more than one nation (aided and abetted methinks by some less than strategic security work) behaving like utter tw*ts. Some things really don’t change at all and I am not sure what effect the threat of England and Russia being expelled from the tournament will have on these people – no evidence to date that rational thought applies.

Sunday bought some redemption in the form of a TLF treble. TLF’s jig of joy around the living room when Poland scored against Northern Ireland might have seemed a little harsh but pecuniary advantage trumps home loyalty every time.

Talking of Les Iles Britanniques today sees the final member of the British Isles quartet get up and running. Even though he has said some very foolish things lately, Martin O’God still has a lot of TLF goodwill stored up so fingers crossed there. Possibly trickier than dealing with Ibrahimovic will be the challenge of a workday and 3 fixtures. Nothing that an Ipad and set of headphones can’t deal with mes petits. And yes, all those Euro 2016 fixtures in my electronic work calendar? Purely trying to highlight external events which may affect our ability to access key stakeholders.

Whatever you do or don’t manage to sneak a viewing of – enjoy.

Les fixtures aujourd’hui

Spain v Czech Republic 2pm
Republic of Ireland v Sweden 5pm
Belgium v Italy 8pm

Weekend Results

France 2 v Romania 1
Albania 0 v Switzerland 1
Wales 2 v Slovakia 1
England 1 v Russia 1
Turkey 0 v Croatia 1
Poland 1 v Northern Ireland 0
Germany 2 v Ukraine 0

Manger ou Boire?

As Italy make their debut and to keep my fizzy cocktail theme going can I suggest an aperol spritz. Saluti!
http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2013/jun/08/make-your-own-aperol-spritz

Le website au jour

I quite like this. It almost makes up for the Grauniad’s incredibly disappointing wall chart. I know times is hard down at York Way but come on chaps! You left TLF relying on a Murdoch production (NB – never let one’s politics and principles get in the way of a good wall chart).
http://www.theguardian.com/football/ng-interactive/2016/jun/01/euro-2016-the-complete-guide-to-every-squad-and-every-player-in-france

Fox Cousteau
I swim
Therefore I am TLF

Posted in France 2016 | 2 Comments

Oooh La La Lost Fox

Allons enfant de patrie
Le jour de glorie est arrive!

Bonjour ma petite Camemberts.
C’est moi!
C’est le lost fox.
Et bienvenue a la Euro 2016.

“And does that mean un bon temps?” I hear vous dit.

Ah oui.

C’est le temps for the usual smorgasbord of football tournament treats – wall charts, a minor TLF shaped economic boom in the football t-shirt retail industry, an unhealthy interest in Iceland’s defensive record, 95 rule changes (no really), comedy names, despair at various elements of TV coverage and a foolish commitment to ramble for you daily during the whole month of this fascinating footballing feast from France. Shame it’s not in February (BOOMBOOM!).

“A month!” I hear vous dit.

Ah oui.

For the first time the tournament will contain 24 teams, rather than the traditional 16. The traditional 16 that has to date produced sufficient entertainment but clearly insufficient cash as far as those chaps at UEFA are concerned. The group stage will be followed for the first time by a round of 16 and the occasional bit of confusion as us innocents try and work out which three of the third place in the six groups will make it into the next round. And as for how they rank teams at the group stage who finish level on points? Too messy for la tete de TLF.

This expanded tournament could of course give us more upsets and excitement or could just make for a flabby, overlong, money making, momentum-draining exercise with excess jour de repos and rein to blog about.

“Nothing?” J’ecoute you say.

Ah non.

This is a football tournament. En France. Time to dust off my worst puns, my best footballing facts, some good old fashioned English pessimism, excessive Franglais and as many French stereotypes as Le Renard Perdu (LRP) can muster.

“Vous actually going to ecrire anything about the GAMES this weekend?” I hear vous dit.

Ah oui.
Pardon. Je un peu carried away.

We begin with the hosts taking on Romania. I think this may be the first time that a Lesta player has ever had the chance to feature in the opening game of a major tournament and so paws are crossed that N’Golo Kante will start at the heart of a ‘much fancied’ French team. OR if you prefer, a French team ‘affected by injuries, a sex tape row and too great a reliance on artistry not industry.’ They are French FFS! Of course the artistry is tres importante! Quoth a famous piss artiste.

We all gleefully hope for a bit of a shocker with those opening games, but with Romania described as, “an ageing, unremarkable side” by The Times (they speak highly of you guys too), it seems unlikely.

After that fasten your ceinture, as the weekend takes you on a rollercoaster ride of 6 games. This is will not be for the faint –hearted; serious re-fuelling strategies and distraction techniques for those slightly less interested than you in le foot will be required.

We will also see the opening salvo in the traditional battle that is ITV v BBC. TLF’s money is of course on the latter, but ITV have given themselves a fighting chance by jettisoning Adrian Chiles…AND…and I am not sure how to break this to any Neanderthal readers out there…employing a….LADY as a pundit. I know. They’ll be blogging about it next.

Three of the teams from the British Isles will also be in action. Time for TLF to dust off the old Ingurland shirt and prise open the rusty optimism tin. An opening game against an injury prone Russia must give some hope. The one thing I will predict is some TLF teenage styley guffawing when playing against a team managed by Mr Slutsky (look if you want intellect then go to the Guardian website). A Wales victory would certainly spice things up for that second group game on Thursday.

TLF’s SSFAU (soft spot for an underdog) is looking a bit Albanian this weekend. Tournament debutants with a win against Portugal and draw against France in their recent history; I plan to cheer them on. Shame they are playing one of my sweepstake teams. But we all know finances never triumph over footballing romance (cf: TLF bank accounts for many years).

Donc.
Le TLF est GBF (guaranteed Brexit Free)
Le TF est LEF (liberte, equalitie, fraternitie)
Le TLF est Pret.

“Vous est une sandwiche!?” I hear vous dit.

Non!!!
Mon Dieu. Je does the puns around ici.

Le fixture ce soir

France v Romania 8pm

Les fixtures a la weekend
Samedi
Albania V Switzerland 2pm
Wales v Slovakia 5pm
England v Russia 8pm
Dimanche
Turkey v Croatia 2pm
Poland v Northern Ireland 5pm
Germany v Ukraine 8pm

Manger ou Boire?
What would be more fitting than opening the tournament with TLF’s favourite tipple, le soixante quinze.
http://allrecipes.com/recipe/216533/french-75/

Le website au jour
If you despaired at England’s tactics in their last friendly against Portugal – this is for you. Can’t decide if I want to see more of these or not.
http://www.wsc.co.uk/wsc-daily/1211-june-2016/13303-england-s-tactics-with-kane-vardy-and-rooney

Descartes Fox
I think
Therefore I am TLF

Posted in France 2016 | Comments Off on Oooh La La Lost Fox

2015/16 and all that

A fitting end to the most extraordinary of seasons sees the resting place of KRIII (as we call the bottled spider up int’Void) havin a party, with TLF getting the extra bonus of a random upgrade at the Holiday Inn Leicester (dunno why they spell it wrong).

Monday’s party attendance cost me a days annual leave and the princely sum of £255 (hotel, train and incidentals) which sounds a lot until you divide it by the number of seasons spent supporting Lesta through thin and a bit thinner and all of a sudden £5.52 per year sounds like a bargain. And to be honest you could have doubled it, trebled it and more besides and it would still have been money well spent. The most exhilarating, bonkers, unexpected thing to happen to my lifelong football team needs to be celebrated in style (CIS).

CIS is proving to be a handy phrase. As is IWNHA*. Both justify a multitude of purchases and excess – 3 flags, 2 pieces of art work, 1 tattoo (pending inspiration) and 5 t-shirts (1 was a gift!!) to date….and I think that you, Mr TLF and Mr HSBC know the opening of the wallet may not be over yet.

But as with every season I have experienced as TLF, it is the stuff that doesn’t have pounds shillings and pence attached to it (old skool) that really counts and at the risk of sounding, like I do at the end of every season, like some sad Oscar winner, some acknowledgments are in order:

To my fellow mighty Saints fans: thank you for the camaraderie, humour, crash course in running a tote, lifts to away games, lifts home, the best wishes and delight for my other City’s success which have made for brilliant weekends and also reminded me how lucky I am to be involved with a local club.

To everyone who just seems quite pleased for me and my football team: I have been chuffed as mint balls as 32 texts celebratory text messages arrived the night that Lesta won the league, from the usual suspects of course but also from friends around the world and those who NEVER text me about football. I have been congratulated at work, had hilarious and touching emails and been told by long term friends that their friends are saying, “what was the name of your Lesta mate?….she must be delighted.” Just lovely to be honest.

To my lucky shirt and socks: the secret ingredient in a spectacular season. You are really filthy, a bit smelly and VERY LUCKY.

To my two City managers:
Ian Allison, he came, he saw, he inherited a Saints team at the bottom of the league. He looked like a proper gaffer, behaved like a proper gaffer and pulled a great escape out of the bag. He might not have the Ranieri lines but he performed his own miracle.

And then we do have to come to our Lord Claudio. The man who charms the press, the fans and the world. Who told us to never wake up and never stop dreaming. Whose players are very concentrate-ed, who gets an opera singer to serenade his crowd. Who buys his players pizza when they finally keep a clean sheet. Who I admit I wasn’t sure about. Who made us all love him and who because he was so charming made everyone else love us. Forza Claudio and grazie.

To Mr TLF: er…sorry for all the mardy grumpiness when:
* we sacked Nigel Pearson
* we appointed Claudio Ranieri
* ever Lesta dropped points
* Arsenal scored that last minute winner – yep that one when I slammed the door and stormed out of the house – after I had promised I’d be calm no matter what the result

An artist's impression of TLF post that last minute Arsenal defeat

An artist’s impression of TLF post that last minute Arsenal defeat


* Spurs had won 4-0 after Lesta had drawn 2-2 with West Ham and I realised Vardy would get an additional suspension
* Spurs went 2-0 up against Chelsea
* I was generally a gloomy, doomy TLF
And also sorry for my response to you when you said that we had qualified for the Champions League and so I should see winning the title as the ‘icing on the cake’. It went along the lines of, “YES I CAN SEE THAT. BUT IMAGINE IF THE CHEF HAS THROWN AWAY THE PIPING BAG!?” No I didn’t understand it either….And on the positive; thank you for your continued patience during all the times when footballing things went well and I was an exuberant, absent, sometimes intoxicated and possibly annoying (shurely shome mishtake) TLF.

There will now be a short interlude as I track down a few brain cells lost in the celebrations. Am thinking regular Euro 2016 would be a foolish commitment…but being a very foolish TLF I imagine I might just see you back here on Friday 9 June. Ca alors!

Claudio Fox

* It Will Never Happen Again

2015/16 - all done

2015/16 – all done

Posted in Very random | Comments Off on 2015/16 and all that

Lesta Fiesta

When you’re smiling when you’re smiling the whole world smiles with you.
When you’re laughing when you’re laughing the sun comes shining through.
But when you’re crying you bring on the rain. So stop your sighing be happy again.
Keep on smiling, coz when you’re smiling, the whole world smiles with you.
The. Whole. World. Smiles. With. Youuuuuuuuuuu.
Ah Lesta. Ah Lesta!
(A traditional East Midlands arrangement)

On 26 April 2008, Lesta City needed to beat Sheffield Wednesday to avoid relegation to Division One or what traditionalists like to call ‘the old Division Three’, a low to which the Foxes had never previously slumped. In those days I sat with Simon, Pete (sadly residing in the football stadium in the sky since 2013….and if you think that is sentimental you might want to walk away now) and Clacton Dave. And yes my young apprentices he is indeed thus named because he is called Dave, and he is from Clacton. A true Lesta blue it would be harder to find and even though for the last four years or so he hasn’t been able to get to games we have kept in touch via text.

In typical Lesta fashion we took the lead then lost our defensive rock to injury, missed a penalty and conceded three goals.

TLF (although of course I wasn’t called that then cos I didn’t even know where St Albans was) started crying once the penalty was missed; I just kinda knew. Clacton Dave didn’t speak. He just put his arm round me for the rest of the game and at the final whistle looked at me with just the hint of a tear. The next week with a win essential and other results required to go our way we drew 0-0 with Stoke and were officially relegated.
On my birthday.

Eight years later and Lesta City are having a fookin’ massive parteh me duck, to which the whole of the city and half of Italy seem to have been invited. My home City is festooned in blue and everyone is….well smilin’.

I’m smiling because I’ve never washed down a Carluccio’s magnifico breakfast with a pint of Peroni before and let me tell you it’s a successful combination. TLF’s party begins in the Lesta branch of this Italian chain, eating with Dad and step-mum. It feels the right thing to do because that’s where 13 months ago I had a pre-match meal with them and confessed I didn’t much feel like going to watch Lesta, bottom of the league, lose to Mr TLF’s West Ham. I was given short shrift and sent on my way to the ground with a reminder of ‘my responsibilities’. Lesta won; the start of last season’s great escape.

Homage paid to that fateful day it was then time to join Simon & Co in the pub. Bit disappointed to draw Danny Drinkwater from the team drinks lottery. I was hoping for a Long Island Kante or a Matty Jamiesons (BOOM!BOOM!). But recognising it could be a long and messy afternoon TLF sticks with what TLFs know best; Amstel. And the longer we are there, the more we develop a simple MO:

* Another beer
* Another chant
* Another cheer for the mad bug#ers walking past with bells and flags
* Another, shaking of head accompanied by the words, “I can’t get my head round this, we’ve really done it.”
* Another fond anecdote
REPEAT FOR TWO HOURS.

Before we get into the ground there is a massive clap of thunder, the heavens open (maybe the weather Gods are Spurs fans?) and we get soaked. And none of us really care because many of us are VERY pissed and all of us are the happiest Lesta fans EVER in 132 years. People whose knees you have squeezed past season after season are now your best mates and random strangers want a hug. It is VERY bonkers and VERY brilliant.

Seats finally reached and in theory Bocelli and Nessun Dorma should be making me cry. But no. It is a man called Clacton Dave who has miraculously got a ticket in our bit of the ground. We hug and TLF is officially a teary mess. I remind him of Sheffield Wednesday. And he nods. And we all blub. God I love football.

Simon, Soph and Clacton. Some of these people might have been drinking....

Simon, Soph and Clacton. Some of these people might have been drinking….

The game that follows?

To be honest I remember more about that bloody Sheffield Wednesday game (ironically we finished with the same scoreline but in our favour this time)……But I think that’s ok, because the bit after – trophy, fireworks, lap of honour and celebratory wotnot that I never thought I would ever see – that’s the bit when even pessimistic TLF has to accept she ain’t dreaming and this really IS happening. And just like the whole season it is unforgettable.

The journey home is pants. But it doesn’t really matter….
“Champions of England
We know what we are!”

Dilly Ding Dilly Dong Fox

"Nooo. Of course I won't come back with a load of official & dodgy memorabilia."

“Nooo. Of course I won’t come back with a load of official & dodgy memorabilia.”

Posted in Match days | 2 Comments

The TLF Double

Part 1
So there you go.
Against the odds.
Making the impossible, possible.
We did it.
St Albans City avoided relegation.

Yeah I know that’s not technically the BIG story. The one you expected. But as far as Hertfordshire is concerned it’s HUGE. Plus TBF (to be fair) TLF, it’s in my comfort zone. Relegation battles that’s what TLF is used to, with the occasional smattering of promotion to keep the wolf from the door. That’s my comfort zone. Not worrying about the possibility of achieving or throwing away internationally reported football glory. Plus if nothing else let’s show a little respect to chronological order. And the mighty Saints were the first up for a date with fate (see what I did there…) on the Satday.

And fate was already on the side of the Saints (that’s how to avoid any apostrophe indecision). Midweek results from elsewhere meant WIN and Saints were safe. Anything else and there would other results to factor in – nerve jangling, definitely and then you have to factor in boys on their smartphones with real time league tables providing the most unwelcome updates EVER.

Even with so much at stake and a general consensus that knotted stomachs and utter panic were the order of the day many people still found time to wish TLF and Lesta luck for the following day. It’s called being kind and the people of my adopted team do it brilliantly. And in spades (although Knocky’s premature rendition of ‘Happy Birthday to the Lost Fox’ wasn’t necessarily ‘kind’ on the ears).

Fortunately for our blood pressure and stress levels turns out the players from SACFC were up for doing it in spades too. If the first goal was greeted with relief and a few tears (laydeez you know who we are) and sharing between three of a celebratory pint (trouble with a massive crowd is beer queue excess), the second, third and fourth were greeted with jigs of joy as we realised that there was not a chance the mighty Saints would lose this one.

We are the Mighty Saints and WE ARE STAYING UP!

Best programme editor in the world receives his trophy from El Presidente

Best programme editor in the world receives his trophy from El Presidente


Wonder who plays centre half!?

Wonder who plays centre half!?

Just time for a pitch invasion by small children (Security really didn’t know what to do with that one…), a couple of beers to congratulate the manager and players on a great escape (stats to follow in my end of season blog), cheer on the mighty Sir Lee of Wood – massively deserved clubman of the year, prove that our centre half Darren Locke is quite tall….or maybe Donna, Julie and TLF are a bit short.

……..AND then go home, worrying ever so slightly that perhaps rationing applies to football happiness – maybe if one City avoids relegation on the last day then all other things being equal the other City can’t succeed – like some new and cruel law of physics.

Part 2a
Settle down in front of the TV chez TLF. Lesta just need to beat Manoooo.

They don’t.
In fact for a good chunk of the first half and the latter part of the second they contrive to lose but come away with a draw. TLF wearily shakes her ‘disappointment comes naturally to a lifelong Lesta fan’ head, despairs of the excess media coverage which has ‘clearly jinxed us’ and remains calm.

Part 2b

Settle down in front of TV, at TLF Towers. Lesta need Spurs to lose or draw.

By half time they are doing the opposite.

TLF cannot bear it and is convinced on basis of no evidence whatsoever (other than 47 years of ups and downs with the emphasis generally on the latter) that her team is doomed to failure. TLF adopts the mature response, stomps off upstairs and hides under the duvet in the dark.

Mr TLF remains calm, staying in front of the TV and thus wins the right to be the first to inform TLF that her team, little Lesta City have won the Premier League.

Gulp….

LESTA CITY HAVE WON THE PREMIER LEAGUE

image

Match stats
St Albans City 4 Dartford 0
Attendance: 1,310!!!! Please come back more often….but don’t use the bar (see below)
Bar queues sort of jumped at half time (to my eternal shame): 1
Unlucky raffle and goalden goal tickets purchased: 12, but I don’t care
Beers consumed: More than intended.
Snackage: 1 sausage roll. I don’t even like sausage rolls. Oh and there is a vague memory of appropriating a piece of pizza off a small child. OOPS.

Blogging-from-Cloud-9 Fox

Posted in Match days | 2 Comments

Ever decreasing circles

During a discussion about stress, a work colleague shared with me a simple idea to try and keep TLF stress levels the right side of DefCon 1. He introduced me to the circle of concern and the circle of control. The circle of concern (yellow) represents all your worries. Inside that big circle is a smaller one – the circle of control (blue) which represents all those worries that you can actually do anything about. Your mission is to concentrate on those and not waste time on the yellow ones. The aim is for that inner circle to get bigger and bigger – meaning you just focus on the things that you can actual influence.
image

In these perilous times and after a spectacular sulk following the West Ham draw, the Jamie Vardy red card and the Spurs 4-0 defeat of Stoke I thought anything was worth a try.

image

As you can see, I’ve really got the hang of it.

I know what you are thinking. That I am potentially looking at a great escape AND an unlikely championship but let me assure you, while the Fox might be standing at the door of the coop, it ain’t counting no chickens.

Slighty-on-the-edge Fox

Posted in Very random | Comments Off on Ever decreasing circles

The joy of six

It’s not often you get to enjoy six on a Satday afternoon. Especially outdoors and at our age.

And with so many friends to share the ecstasy.

You’d almost call it group six

OK. I will try and remain an innuendo free TLF for the rest of this ramble. But it is hard to guarantee anything with the giddiness that is induced by spanking (sorry) fellow relegation nominees 6-0.

Admittedly TLF did only get to enjoy five of the goals. I was a tardy TLF by a mere four minutes but by then we had taken the lead. The second was a corker and went in while I was purchasing my bacon cob and trying to manage Andy the Burger’s expectations for my other City (and the less said about that the better). Still, as any fule kno TLF is not an optimist and was not yet ready to properly celebrate. A minimum four goal cushion is TLF’s kind of bolster. Clearly the players are aware of the pessimistic bin dipper in their midst with a third goal duly arrived as TLF was taking her place on the terraces. Time and Michael Thalassitis wait for no TLF.

Within 40 minutes we were 4-0 up after one of those perfect moments when you watch the cross into the box and know that the mighty Charlie MacDonald will be on the end of it to knock it goal bound. Cue pandemonium and a sense of disbelief. Adding to the group bonhomie was the fact that all the teams around the Mighty Saints were losing, propelling us up and out of the relegation zone.

Changing positions, particularly after such a powerful start can sometimes lead to disappointment. But the players rose to the occasion putting another two past the beleaguered opposition keeper. Being relaxed without a care in the world AND watching my football team at the same time is a rarity, probably only achieved through strong medication or a six goal lead.

Inevitably in the afterglow of such a performance the euphoria of sharing six with so many carries on into the bar. Existing relationships are refreshed and renewed, new friends are made and caution may well be thrown to the wind. At the recently christened Table of ill repute (thank you Lord Lee of Wood for that bon mot), TLF committed to next Satday’s away game and another road trip with Julie, without prior domestic consultation. And Julie agreed to offer a lift back to new Irish acquaintance Andrew (I know. You kinda feel sorry for him already).

The celebratory mood in the bar continued as the players and management joined us in the bar. While I have 46 years of history with my beloved Lesta, I don’t think that any time soon the assistant manager will be offering me spare pizza or I’ll be able to tap our star striker on the shoulder and ask him to ‘pop over’ because someone has got a question they want to ask him. And even if I could I am not sure the reaction would have been so patient and good humoured.

Happy days.
You might even say the earth moved.

Alex Comfort Fox

Match Stats
St Albans City 6 Havant and Waterlooville 0
Attendance: 702
Goalden goal tickets (bought by Julie dos TLF was late) One loser
Raffle tickets (see above re purchase) 5 losers
Calorific intake: 1 well done bacon cob and 1 packet bacon fries
Liquid refreshment: 1 pint Stella, 2 bottles German stuff and a cheeky half

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Signal failure

Sometimes the only solution to the combined traumas of a relegation battle and an improbable pursuit of a Premiership title is to run away. Escape to a rural idyl. Even if it’s a FFZ (football free zone) rural idyll, (which technically would make it a FFZRI), it is the best FFZRI I know, complete with good company, shenanigans and carousing guaranteed.

And that is why on a Friday evening South West trains were graced with the presence of both TLF & Mr TLF as we boarded at Waterloo en route to Dorchester South (technically and in the interests of blogging continuity it could be argued that like members of the Royal Family we should travel separately but on this occasion no matter). The TLFs were on their way to the aforementioned FFZRI, the village of Swyre (pop. 102). While there was unreliable wifi en route, this was more than made up for by the smorgasbord of delights that they they had at their disposal; four cans of Stella, five mini bottles of wine (various) and assorted snackage of a savoury variety. Like a Boy Scout, and it is perhaps where the comparison ends, TLF is always prepared.

It is hard to get the inhabitants of a FFZRI interested in the footballing news from the Shires as it slowly crawls i, via that weak Dorset wifi signal. Mr TLF raises a perfunctory eyebrow of celebration as TLF imparts the news that St Albans have defeated Maidenhead away from home accompanied with a non-beer assisted ‘another-step-in-the-relegation-battle-successfully-negotiated’ jig. But other than that there is nothing. No response. Zip. It’s a tough crowd in Dorset……

Clearly the ideal time to catch a train home (with an extra hour added on as a treat cos you have the audacity to travel on a Sunday) is when Lesta kick off against Sunderland. Remembering the wifi issues on the outward journey and in the interests of finger nails, mental health and temper a TLF media blackout is imposed. Just to add to the ‘fun’ the train crawls for miles as signalling problems lead to an extra imposition in the form of speed restrictions. This does not help with TLF’s feeble attempts at Zen like calm. Mr TLF has once again flagrantly flouted the don’t-bet-on-my-team rule but retains a remarkably calm demeanour for one who has a) risked the wrath of TLF with his potentially jinxing wager and b) has a financial interest in the outcome.

Finally the waiting is over, the final whistle must have gone and there is a sniff of a signal on the old electronic devices. The time it takes for the BBC website to refresh feels like an age. But finally it is confirmed, and it is good news. A relieved TLF triumphantly relays the good fortune to Mr TLF.
“Yeah I know I’ve been getting secret text updates for the last 90 minutes.”
Cue an early Battle of Waterloo.

Train Manager Fox

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