The Red Lion

Posted on September 18, 2015 by Sophie

“I think of those men…a dozen men in a room above The Red Lion…
In 1892.
They founded a football club
Not for profit….not to further their standing in the town…
But to meet a need….
The game is a ritual; made-up rules, man-made oppositions. Make-believe.
The crowd, the ceremony, the collusion of souls willing it to matter – makes it matter.”

It’s Friday evening and a small but perfectly formed posse of Saints fans (plus one unscheduled Orient addition in the form of Richard, work colleague, wielding a Brompton bike) are up for the Red Lion. Not a pub but a play. We are on the Sarf Bank, home to the National Theatre (of dreams) for a bit of kulture, a bit of drama.

Drama and football don’t often sit well together. There are only a handful of mates and family members who I can talk to about both theatre and football with my usual obsessional intensity; most like one or the other, not both.

Most films with football as the central theme have been a bit rubbish (Escape to Victory being ideal rubbish for a wet Sunday afternoon I would argue) and while I was a sucker for both Jossie’s Giants and Sky’s Dream Team they weren’t really that good. Even Mr W Shakespeare didn’t seem that bothered. A mere two references to the beautiful game in 37 plays.

There is some crossover in terms of language but it is a bit of a one way street. Football is often dramatic, but drama isn’t often footballatic. A player may be the villain of the piece or might be described as writing his (or her!) own script but I’ve never seen a theatre review that suggested Lady Macbeth bossed the first half before falling apart in the final third leaving her husband’s defences hopelessly exposed, ensuring he was taken out of the game by MacDuff. Shame really, it could explain a lot. Clearly King Lear wasn’t appalled at Cordelia’s lack of loquacious talk “nothing my lord.” Rather he couldn’t believe her lack of ambition for Lear FC and predicting a future of barren nil-nils under her leadership, “nothing will come of nothing”, he handed over the reins of the first team to joint managers Goneril and Regan.

As you can imagine I could probably take that little ramble into extra time but I’ll save it for another time…back to a pub with a fine view of old Mother Thames and a few pre-match beers. Or in my case wines. There was a slight look of shared disbelief on the faces of Lee, Davy Mac and HatBoy as TLF appeared not armed with her trusty pint of AmStella (see what I did there) but festooned with a very large (and as it turned out very grim) Merlot. It’s not that I feel obliged to ‘up’ my posh factor pre-theatre, actually I suppose I’d have to find my posh factor not just up it….rather I have to consider capacity. My capacity if you get my drift. While the loos at the National Theatre give their visitor a bit more of the old mod cons than those at Clarence Park, visiting them as often as you like during the unfolding drama is not an option, unlike Clarence Park. And so it’s always wine if I’m headed to watch something on stage. Although not usually quite as much. And not usually on an empty stomach with only a small tub of cashews and one square of fudge to keep the wine company. And those two items only made an appearance because of Davy Mac’s very welcome intervention. Still I remember the whole play and I didn’t embark on a huge swearathon until I was safely on the train (oh so that’s alright then) so it can’t have been too much (ahem).

We were a slightly depleted crew with a few notable and genuine missed absences including Mr TLF who had, “been out for lunch and was feeling a bit tiredy.” Indeed. I reassured him that no I didn’t mind and of course I wouldn’t mention it in my blog. Still one tipsy TLF was probably quite enough for a theatre trip.

Which reminds me….the play.

Written by Patrick Marber it is set in the suitably scruffy dressing room of a club we never get to know the name of, only that their badge is the red lion of the title. Three characters – ancient kit man Johnny Yates, speaker of the lines at the beginning of this blog, one time club hero who briefly made it pro and then when it went wrong spent time homeless and messed up. Kidd, the manager who is slick, ambitious, immoral, with a great line in curses and a casual contempt for the volunteers that keep the club going and the kid, Jordan the talent, who…..and then……well that would spoil it for those who ain’t seen it to be honest. It provides a great contrast in attitudes to the game. Is it about collective ethic or individuals? What matters most community or profit and success? Funny lines but heart-breaking ones too and all delivered brilliantly by the cast. As you might have guessed, I liked it. And before you think that TLF does her theatre criticism through wine-tinted specs I purchased the play text yesterday and read it today – still brilliant. As The Independent put it, “A beautiful play about the beautiful game. Funny, sad and haunting.”

What a fine looking crowd at the National Theatre

What a fine looking crowd at the National Theatre


A perfect start to a perfect weekend which saw Mr TLF’s three singly placed bets come in…the collective and more profitable noun for this being a (missed) Treble. The mighty Saints picked up their first home win of the season, and there was a trip to Brum for some more kulture in the form of a Richard Thompson OBE gig at Symphony Hall (the philistines now asking ‘who he?’ should google him as a matter of urgency). Ironically this diary date, combined with the Lesta game being moved to a Sunday for SKY meant I missed witnessing the game live and most importantly their 20 minute comeback that saw them beat Aston Villa. Instead I indulged in some expletive strewn and nervous pacing of the small expanse of a Premier Inn in Birmingham while watching the game on a website update; Mr TLF having wisely decided that TLF watching the game in a local pub probably would not do much for east and west Void relations.

Anthony Mingella the film director once said, “I wish every film had as exciting a shape as most football matches.” That’s what my weekend was, without even stepping inside a ground. It was football-shaped.

Billington Fox

Programmes and tickets. Always programmes and tickets

Programmes and tickets. Always programmes and tickets

Posted in Football deprived, Very random | 1 Comment

Be careful what you wish for

Posted on September 12, 2015 by Sophie

“Down to Margate, you can keep the Costa Brava
I’m telling ya mate I’d rather have a day down Margate
With all me family.”

Except we weren’t.
We definitely weren’t.
Then we might have.
But we didn’t.

Might not scan, but full marks for accuracy.

I had, like a loyal, selfless and thoughtful TLF agreed to forego a seaside away day with the Mighty Saints in favour of some quality time with Mr TLF at a tiny caravan with no mod cons but fantastic views of the finest English countryside. Except by Thursday evening Mr TLF had taken a look at the weather forecast and over-ruled the planned trip, thinking that hypothermia does generally take the edge off quality time.

I was like a striker returning back to the side after a long layoff a bit slow to react to this opportunity. The Margate goalmouth was wide open……but it was a good three hours before I even attempted to stab the ball home and suggest an alternative would be that we went Margate.

“No”, came the short but very clear response.

Maybe I shouldn’t have sung it….

That episode reminded me of a recent survey by SportsBettingOnline, which I am sure was purely in the interests of academic research and not a promotional tool to advertise their gambling-wares. It looked at the lengths to which football fans will go to make sure they don’t miss a game. Apparently 27% of Lesta fans admitted to lying to their partner in order to get to see a game. We were some of the less likely fibbers apparently.

Personally I think honesty and direct communication is essential in a relationship. Like with Margate. I could have said, “well if the caravan is off then I’ll probably spend the day out, undertaking charitable acts for worthy causes and be home ooh the same time as if I’d gone to say er…Margate.” But no. I took the decision on my little TLF chin. Important to be clear where you stand, like when Mr TLF asked whether I would be working when I was working from home on Thursday. I think my reply “which of the three effing words, ‘working’,’from’, and ‘home’ do you not effing understand?” was fairly unambiguous.

Being a stubborn if honest TLF I did of course on the day of the game employ a couple of attempts at reversing the Margate outcome. Sadly two renditions of Chas n Dave’s finest got me nowhere. I admitted defeat:
TLF: Oh well at least if we’re not going then we won’t miss the launch show of Strictly Come Dancing 2015.
Mr TLF: Is it too late to go to Margit?

Dreamland Fox

Posted in Football deprived | Comments Off on Be careful what you wish for

Ref Hall

Posted on September 5, 2015 by Sophie

And so to the bank holiday fixture against loathed rivals the Tudors (that’s Hemel Hempstead Town not the historical dynasty with big Henry the eighth leading the line against Pope United). Pre-match I’d already got the hump; it was a grey and rainy Monday and in recognition of recent holiday excess I was planning on a dry game plus Mr TLF had been engaging in one of his favourite sports – TLF baiting:

Mr TLF: so why does your team hate Hemel?
TLF: they’re just down the road. It’s a local derby thing.
Mr TLF: but why? Millwall and West Ham I understand, there’s a story there but just because they’re down the road?
TLF: you saying we’ve got NO history!?
Mr TLF: I’m just saying there might be local teams that don’t exhibit these sort of tendencies.
TLF: oh I suppose you think local teams have some sort of bromance going on you do? Some BFF thing? BlahRantBlahRantBlah You just don’t understand football. I don’t know why I bother telling you things etc etc.

[Exit Mr TLF knowing that his work here was done….]

Our Chairman’s programme notes had this to say about the match officials, “They are the third team on the pitch and we thank them in advance for the important part they will play.”

Who knew how accurate that comment would turn out to be? Maybe he could start picking my lottery numbers. Turns out the ref seemed to think he was not at Clarence Park but appearing in a budget version of Wolf Hall; that’s one without wives, palaces or beheadings. The programme said that his name was Chris O’Donnell but I think that was probably a misprint. The game was all about him and most of his actions seemed designed to wheedle his way into the affections of the Tudors so I am guessing that in actual fact it was one Thomas Cromwell taking charge of the whistle.

It started so well. The Saints were 1-0 up within the first minute. For the pessimistic amongst us that is I admit a tad early but always nice to put down an early marker or an Anne of Cleves as we don’t call them in a derby game. Then it all just started to go a bit Thomas Moore; bookings for clean and winning tackles, inconsistent decision making and then a killer blow from the executioner, in the last minute of the second half, right in front of the Saints faithful. A minor bit of jousting in the penalty box and Hemel were awarded a debatable penalty. And to add insult to an unjustified red card for our centre back Ian Gayle. If the crowd had been a bit quiet up to that point this incident saw the volume turn up a few notches as we all made our views known, questioning of Mr Cromwell’s parentage and IQ, liberally smattered with words that won’t get through most of my subscribers’ firewalls. Or as the SACFC official twitter feed put it, “Players, managers and fans express their disappointment.”

The second half saw a fantastic performance from the 10 men of St Albans and while it didn’t deliver the 3 points we all crave, it was for TLF a moral victory that might just kick start the season. We did go ahead again and we could have scored another, instead we hit the post with pinpoint accuracy and then with the cruelty of Ann Boleyn, a late equaliser from Hemel…Just as we thought we had the Tudors where we wanted them.

While no one from Hemel had the girth of Henry VIII (although our ex-striker John Frendo’s waistline did draw just a few, no doubt well-intentioned pieces of dietary advice from the crowd) the only real winner was our Cromwellian referee. But was it the Thomas Cromwell of Hilary Mantel’s book – pragmatic and talented?
Er most definitely not.
Or the Cromwell of Robert Bolt’s play, A man for all seasons – calculating and unprincipled?
Possibly.
Or the Cromwell of TLF’s mini-series “Fat king gets married a lot” – Just a pants referee?
Definitely.

Historical Fox

Match stats
St Albans City 2 Hemel Hempstead 2
Attendance: 860
Unlucky raffle tickets: 10
Snacks and lager consumed: None. TLF’s body is a temple (this may prove to be a brief interlude)

Posted in Match days | 1 Comment

Veni, vidi, vici

Posted on August 27, 2015 by Sophie

Beware the Ides of March a soothsayer once told Julius Caesar. On this particular occasion however it was a Friday evening in August and the soothsaying was being done by John who issued his own portent of doom (or fata portenderent prodigio as the Romans would have said in 43AD just before Aulus Palutius invaded these shores):

“Bring your own bacon fries. We’re out.”

Unwelcome nuntium indeed the night before the excessive-and-blatant-use-of-Latin-prompting fixture that sees Aquae Sulis visiting Clarence Park.

Fortunately the reliable emporium and supplier of Mr TLF’s frozen lasagnes that is Libram Terra was offering up multi packs of the bacon fries (accompanied I admit by their lesser cousin the scampi fry) for the standard £1.00. And so a cheery TLF, festooned by pork-based products wended her merry way in the sunshine to Clarence Park.

Much banter on entry (Latin AND innuendo; oh TLF you are spoiling us) kept the mood alive but as I walked past the players warming up I couldn’t help but think there wasn’t that usual joie de vivre. The reality is that while the season is still only a mere itch in its Daddy’s pants, people’s expectations are always high and so the slightly faltering start to the season coupled with a metam siccitatis (that’s goal drought for the few non-Latin scholars amongst my readership) has left a bit a of a flat feeling. Ridiculous that despondency can come on so quickly and so sneakily, but everyone wants a good start, fans and players alike. Even if it’s not pleasing on the eye, 3 points and a goal, even a jammy one going in off someone’s posterior was, the soothsayer and I agreed, much called for.

What did the Romans ever do for us? Not much on Satday as it happens. The goddess Fortuna had taken the day off and while the mighty Saints were better than previous games it was Joe Welch keeping the Saints in it with some fantastic saves while the Bath keeper, resplendent in bright orange was probably more troubled by our suggestions that he might have been sponsored by popular fruit-based fizzy drink than by our team. Our players hadn’t given up and they did want the win. I am assured of this by the spectacular cursing that followed several missed chances; yes I know it is a family game but I am very glad they care and have a suitable vocabulary to express it.

The slightly disappointing start to the season was not the only concern on the terraces however. Discussion of British Bake Off by some of our contingent caused significant despair from HatBoy who has strong views on what makes for good and proper telly viewing. And competitive cake-making does not pass the test. Nor does beetroot in a Black Forest Gateau according to Paul. Never let it be said that us football fans are one-dimensional.

News from the Prem was mixed. West Ham had suffered a misery-inducing loss, the fault for which apparently lay at my door – for placing the £10 bet on them for Mr TLF as requested (“I didn’t really mean it when I gave you the tenner and asked you to go via the bookies). While the early season pace-setters, Ratae Corieltauvorum (you can kinda see why they changed it to Lesta) had slumped to a 1-1 draw, but were still top of the table. By Sunday evening Lesta were second from top of their league while the mighty Verulamium were second from bottom of theirs. Pleasingly symmetrical yes but symmetry can be over-rated.

Earlyos daysios as they don’t say in Ancient Rome.

Lostius Foxius

Match stats
St Albans City 0 Bath City 1
Attendance: 424
Bacon products: usual. None of them lucky
Lagers: 2 German ones, equally unhelpful
Financial return on raffle tickets and goalden goal a predictable big fat ZERO

Posted in Match days | Comments Off on Veni, vidi, vici

The laws of the Fairport and football game

Posted on August 22, 2015 by Sophie

Probably the one minor downside about Lesta’s great escape last season is that it does mean the ‘dark cloud of potential for domestic disharmony’ fixture that is Lesta v Mr TLF’s West Ham once again looms over Chez TLF. Obviously if we were mature adults who chose to accept that there are greater threats to a relationship than the outcome of a mere (sic) football match then it wouldn’t be an issue. But the reality is we aren’t.
Oh….
Ok….
I’m not.

Fortunately the football fixture Gods were once again showering TLF with their benediction and munificence and selected one of TLF’s annual football free weekends – Fairport Convention’s Cropredy Music festival – for Lesta’s trip to the Hammers. This North Oxford based event is not one that Mr TLF graces with his presence. So we were not just divided by support for our respective teams but also a good 60 miles, thereby ensuring that dangerous and inflammable murderous looks during the 90 minutes could be avoided and the initial post-match need to gloat by the victorious party would have maybe not abated but would be at non-nuclear levels by the time of my return on the Sunday.

I would of course have been at the festival regardless of this mere bagatelle of a football match. Nothing makes me happier than being a field, listening to music, in great company, drinking far too much while in full waterproofs and wellies (or willies, as one slightly slurred text suggested). Apart from knowing that Lesta are beating West Ham of course….hehe. Festivals are though a serious business en TLF famille. There are laws. I know you want me to say ‘rules’. I want to type it, but fact is that football is governed by the laws of the game so for the sake of accuracy we will all just have to suck it up:

1. Always be tidy – if there is a quarter of a bottle of red left over then do the decent thing. Drink it.

2. If a complete stranger comes up to you, shakes your parents by the hand and offers cans of quality beer don’t say no – refusal would offend.

3. See above and apply same rule to Indian honey brandy (surprisingly good)

4. You can go down the front and dance in wellies, but make sure you are drunk first. It won’t help your footing but you will no longer care about how much of a fule you look.

5. Be prepared for the fact that when you revisit some of the performances on YouTube a week later some of them you won’t remember.

6. Don’t check texts from Hatboy about football. One minute Lesta are cruising and the Saints are steady at 0-0. Before you know it both teams have conceded and you have started doing the ‘worried pacing thing’ in a field of 20,000 people.

7. Queuing for the showers is a waste of good drinking time. You have a lifetime of showers back home. Invest in a pack of wet wipes and some good deodorant.

8. If you doze off in your camping chair and wake up to find that we are all out of Retsina don’t come squealing to TLF – you snooze; you lose.

9. DON’T ever tweet a picture of your mum in her sartorially elegant wet weather gear, with the aim of it appearing on the tweet wall by the side of the stage. When it does you will be in BIG trouble.

10. Come home and watch Match of the Day on repeat; very loudly.

Follow that advice and you will be fine. Hungover, a bit smelly and in trouble with Mr TLF admittedly. But already looking forward to being in the same field, in a small village just outside Banbury, same time next year.

Fairport Fox

Match stats
Fairport Convention 2 Stay-at-homers 1
Attendance: 20,000
Snacks consumed: more than is probably good for one, but not a bacon fry in sight
Alcohol consumed: a very small sampling of an eclectic range of beverages

Sundowners ahoy!

Sundowners ahoy!

Posted in Football deprived | Comments Off on The laws of the Fairport and football game

Back to skool

Posted on August 13, 2015 by Sophie

The football fixture Gods chose to sprinkle their fixture fairy dust on TLF for the opening weekend of the season. Lesta at home on the Satday followed by the Mighty Saints at home on the Monday evening meaning that loyalties were evenly distributed.

The first home game of the season always reminds me of the first day back at skool after the summer, except without the over-sized uniform that you will ‘grow into’, according to your mam, providing of course you don’t die of shame first. Excitement tinged with fear at what awaits, not quite as bad as worrying about whether you will attract the attention of the badass smokers in the toilets this term but almost. You renew old acquaintances and catch up on all the goss for the summer.

LOOK before you start I know that in this day and age any self-respecting teenager will have tweeted, face-booked and Instagrammed their every waking moment of their summer holidays but for those of us who saw The Clangers the first time around this is what it used to be like.

Anyway before I was so rudely interrupted by snorts of derision, back to my summer review. Relationship wise the focus of my footballing affections have enjoyed contrasting fortunes. Lesta experienced yet another relationship breakdown, this one coming completely out of the blue. There are those that say they were never right for each other, while some of us had been won over by renewed relationship commitment during the last 9 games of the season. If the break up divided people then the new relationship had provoked even greater reactions. The majority of us are far from sure that it will last – our Lesta is one for slightly odd, gutsy and grumpy fist pumping types not urbane Italian tinkermen. Meanwhile the Mighty Saints continue to go steady, recognising the value of a long term relationship, although that is always easier when one of the parties hasn’t tried to strangle an opponent or called anyone who dares challenge them an ostrich (and we won’t mention Thailand).

Cometh the Satday, cometh TLF. I’ll admit I did waiver before getting on the train to Lesta. Mr TLF was not all sweetness and light:
TLF: So I’ll be in Lesta on Satday and then [sotto voce] it’s St Albans on the Monday night.
Mr TLF [incredulous]: Monday as well!?!
TLF [even more incredulous]: It’s on the list I gave you of all the games I’m going to.
Mr TLF [maxed out on incredulity]: I’m meant to read the list!?!

And I wasn’t quite ready for the trauma of another relegation battle watching Relegation Fodder City as pundits seemed to have renamed my home town team. Still there were people to meet, beers to drink, Nandos to eat (not a patch on Andy the burger man’s fare let me tell you) and it’s my bloody seat. Thank goodness I went. I know I will only get to sing “We’re Lesta City, we’re top(p) of the league.” once this season so I made the most of it. I chose not to join in with the chants of “paedo” at Sunderland’s Adam Johnson, equally I also chose not to engage my fellow supporters in a debate on the rule of law and the concept of “innocent until proven guilty.” I know; where is my spirit of adventure?”

So far so good for Lesta’s new man, he was funny, animated, constructively critical and nice (now that is weird). It might not last but as with any relationship let’s take the flowers and chocolates…METAPHORICAL ones obviously, while we can.

Never doubted that printing the league table after 1 game was the right thing to do...

Never doubted that printing the league table after 1 game was the right thing to do…

Sadly I was upended from the crest of a winning wave 48 hours later with a strong Oxford City side overcoming the Mighty Saints. Still it was good to to catch up with the Scottish contingent and get in my first bacon COB of the season (bacon extra crispy obvs).

Back to skool. While players and managers come and go, for the rest of us, it’s like we’ve never been away.

Molesworth Fox

Match stats
St Albans 1 Oxford City 3
Attendance 481
Lager consumed: 2 of the German lagers (skool night restraint)
Bacon based products: 1 cob, 1 packet fries. Neither item is responsible for the above scoreline

Posted in Match days | Comments Off on Back to skool

Small (but perfectly formed) change

Posted on August 5, 2015 by Sophie

eBay seems a fine modern invention for the average Mr TLF needing (in no particular order) garden furniture, door knockers, paintings, bargain Todd shoes, and velux windows (“just in case” apparently). But what I hadn’t appreciated is that eBay can also act as a gateway to un-negotiated football attendance. To whit:

Mr TLF: Can you come with me at 8.30am on Satday and pick up a new garden table from Hertford? We can probably fit in a brief but stimulating verbal dispute about me taking a wrong turning along the way, topped off with you sulking that I haven’t printed off a detailed map.

TLF (with a hefty serving of opportunism successfully defeating the urge to ask why we need another garden table): Yes if, in return I can then go and watch the mighty Saints take on Woking in the last pre-season friendly.

[Stage direction: Mr TLF looks suitably pained but nods in despairing acquiescence]

Even after two seasons I’m always a bit worried about whether things will have changed when I get down to Clarence park and whether it will still be fun and people will still be friendly. No reflection on the folk of the mighty Saints. Rather a reflection on on eternally pessimistic TLF, whose pint glass of Stella is often replaced with a glass half full (with the contents of said glass looking decidedly dubious at that) and who fears change. Turns out some change is for the better:

Shiny, spangly and freshly painted ladies loos.
Shiny, spangly and freshly painted club shop, complete with shiny, spangly and freshly printed new T-shirts (coming to a TLF holiday destination soon).
Knocky has a new hip (data on the shiny and spangly levels of said hip are not available at this time)
And in an inspired and revolutionary step the club have installed a shiny, spangly and freshly pinted (BOOM!) beer pump in the shop – no need to miss any of the game or negotiate the stairs to the bar. Who knew that Fosters would become an attractive beverage option?

And on the pitch some familiar faces and also some shiny, spangly and freshly penned to contract (probably stretching that little theme there just a smidgen) players.

That’s the kind of change I can live with, particularly when it’s combined with some reassuring consistency. Andy’s van is in position, the Stella and bacon fries are in place, the programme is looking mighty fine, the company is still topnotch. And even though it is only a pre-season friendly Ray is in fine vocal form (although decibel, despair and swearing levels seem slightly reduced – it is a mere friendly after all).

Match stats
St Albans 0 Woking 1
Attendance: state secret – well at least it ain’t in any of the match reports.
Consumption: Half a Fosters and one pint Stella – pre season levels.
Financial investments – none. Normal loss-making low level gambling activities will be resumed when the season proper starts

Embracing Change Fox




Posted in Match days | Comments Off on Small (but perfectly formed) change

Beggars. Not choosers.

Posted on July 29, 2015 by Sophie

Usually it’s the bearers of the gift that you need to be a bit cautious about but on this occasion it might prove to be the gift itself. I was quite happily festooned with chocolate and some nice jewellery from the parental trip to Crete but no the Hellenic largesse was not over. Imagine our delight when I discovered that the nation that gave us the Acropolis, Socrates, Plato, Prince Philip and Demis Roussos had seen fit to pass on a second hand football manager!

Indeedy. Claudio Ranieri’s next port of call after leading Greece to a wintery defeat against those footballing giants the Faroe Islands is the less sunny but probably more solvent, City of Lesta. Admittedly you can’t expect much from a bankrupt nation, but was this strictly necessary? I would like to assure the Greeks that Angela Merkel et al are not season ticket holders at Filbert Way…it you thought this was suitable revenge for your bailout deal then you are barking up the wrong baum as they would say in the fatherland. Still it does mean that Lesta fans are back where we are most comfortable after the cheery end to last season. Yup we are once again residing in Turmoil Street, Despondencyville, Underwhelmed-shire.

Don’t get me wrong I’ve got nothing against the fellah. He is dapper. The Guardian tell me he is humble and honourable. The Times reassures me that his record is better than the critics suggest. And I am sure that if he has any offspring then they can be trusted on a goodwill tour to Thailand. But I am still not sure that he is right for our club or more importantly the team wot Nigel built. And can you have any confidence in a man whose name is an anagram of Ciao dire urinal?

Amidst all this doom I turned to literature for solace, surely Mr Shakespeare could do what our Thai owners had failed to do and warm the various crustacea of TLF’s frozen heart.

Claudio in Much Ado About Nothing? “Emotionally immature, weak, compliant and difficult to sympathise with.”

Or Claudio in Measure for Measure? Brings back depressing memories of an unloved
A-level text…..Thanks for nothing Will.

The only thing left to do is, as we say at work to, “suck it up.” We are football fans and therefore beggars not choosers when it comes to the direction of our club. Hopefully Claudio will prove us all wrong and before you know it we will be inventing songs in his honour. Equally we could be only a few months away from discovering the long lost John Le Carre footballing spy novel, ‘Ostrich, tinker, care-tailor manager, (I) spy (relegated by Christmas).’

Not Smiley Fox

Posted in Very random | Comments Off on Beggars. Not choosers.

Emergency Ward TLF

Posted on July 22, 2015 by Sophie

Yes I know.
I am plus tard.
The L in TLF currently stands for Late.
I have shown a desultory attitude to my rambling and am both tardy and slack.

In my defence, m’lud I can confirm that the accused’s blog was drafted on Friday night. Admittedly the various paragraphs were scribbled in a haphazard fashion in assorted note books, on the backs of various envelopes and the margins of the front cover of the Law Society Gazette, but they were merely awaiting typing up, which was pencilled in (BOOMBOOM!) for Satday morning. My body had other ideas however and performed its own intervention:

“Typing up a blog after an early morning swim? So DULL, so 2014, so Milliband my little TLF. What you need is an early morning visit from a paramedic, a trip in an ambulance (including that humiliating bit where they wrap you in a blanket, strap you in a carry-chair and carry you down your stairs and out of the house) and a visit to Watford General Hospital A&E, where you can be hooked up to a drip, and take lots of tests that give no conclusive reasons as to why you are so dizzy you cannot sit or stand up, think that you will vom if you move your head and are barely conscious. That’s how to liven up your weekend.”

Yeah thanks a lot body. Great idea.

As a major fan of Casualty and Holby City (collectively known as ‘sh*t telly’ by Mr TLF) I thought I was fairly clued up about all this medical malarky. But where was the dramatic build-up and plot devicing which would leave the viewer unclear if the 999- calling Mr TLF was hero or villain? Why were the staff at the hospital not distracted by their own personal traumas or internal politics? And most importantly WHERE WAS CHARLIE FAIRHEAD???

Despite all these distractions it did occur to me that maybe those programmes aren’t as real as I thought (ahem). No patient in the care of Holby’s finest has ever noted that ambulances are weird because they have windows but you can’t see out. It’s true – they have blinds. At least I think they do. It was a bit of a blur. And I have never seen a patient confirm that, “Yes”, they are wearing their Snoopy pants under the duvet in response to the question, “Are you decent down there?”,prior to a paramedic attaching the sticky whosiwotsits to the ankle as required to do an ECG. To be honest concerns about decency go out of the window when you feel like your head is exploding but maybe that’s just the kind of TLF I am. As well as being the kind of TLF that apparently needs to rest and take on lots of fluids (sadly of the non-Stella variety).

My only previous visit to Watford was of a footballing and heart-breaking nature as I watched Lesta City lose in a play-off semi final. This visit was in some ways more traumatic.

But at least no one missed a penalty.

Down but not out Fox

Posted in Football deprived, Very random | 2 Comments

Nothing to see here

Posted on July 11, 2015 by Sophie

When I awarded the blogging paws a short but well earned rest I was fairly confident that this voluntary blogging holiday would, women’s World Cup aside, coincide with a suitably quiet period on the footballing front.They don’t call me mystic fox for nothing…….I mean look, barely a brouhaha or shenanigan in sight:

Week beginning 1 June
TLF signs off the season with a flourish, studiously ignoring reports of racist sex tapes, Lesta City and goodwill tours to Thailand.
Transfer rumours and signings for both Saints and Lesta begin on a weekly basis.

8 June
TLF applies for Euro 2016 tickets in ballot.
TLF calculates if 100% successful in ballot, there may follow a period of austerity.

15 June
Tom Hopper, Adam Smith and James Pearson (son of manager Nigel Pearson) are sacked from LCFC following aforementioned sex tape.
Premier League Fixtures published. People in paroxysms of delight that Lesta away at Bournemouth for August Bank Holiday. TLF shakes head, any fule kno that Bank Hol = traffic jams and the evil that is the rail replacement bus service.
TLF meets Super Stevie Claridge where they discuss his Wemberlee winner and “happy days” during the Martin O’Neill era. TLF beyond excited.

Lesta legend....and Steve Calridge

Lesta legend….and Steve Claridge


22 June
TLF agrees to be secretary of Save Your Saints.
Mr TLF greets this news warmly, noting that I’m not very busy so an extra commitment is just what I need.

29 June
Nigel Pearson sacked. Properly this time.
TLF has massive, proper mardy.
TLF sees the very fantastic Henry Goodman in the very fantastic Voplone at the RSC.Takes seeing a play called the Fox as a sign it’s time to get blogging again
England’s women beat Germany for the first time to finish third at the World Cup.
Sam Allardyce installed as favourite to be next Lesta manager.
Neil Lennon installed as favourite to be NLM.
Guus Hiddink installed as favourite to be NLM.
Local paper polls fans who want Jurgen Klopp to be NLM. It becomes reported that this is now ordained truth.

6 July
The mighty Saints begin their pre-season friendlies.
TLF misses the pre-season friendlies cos working late.
TLF discusses current Lesta crisis with favourite Peer of the Realm. We share despair.
Claudio Raneri installed as favourite to be NLM.
Bob Bradley blahblah.
Preki Somebody who used to play for Everton etc etc.
Martin O’Neil installed as F2BNLM as local paper goes into news vacuum meltdown.
TLF considers throwing hat into ring 2BNLM.
TLF turns to drink.

Very quiet indeed.

Summer TLF

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