Feast or famine

Posted on January 14, 2014 by Sophie

Before the Monday night home game I realised it was a whole 19 days since I had last seen the mighty Saints (not so much a ‘lost’ fox. More, I dunno, mislaid?) That’s what bad weather and a greed for theatre tickets does for you. On the theatrical front I should report that Richard II narrowly beat 12 Angry Men but my man of the match, well play, was Martin Shaw in the latter as while David Tennant nailed it, he does look a bit odd with the long hair thing (not that I am so shallow as to have my opinion influenced by the looks of those on stage…)

Obviously it hasn’t been a true football desert, as I do have SKY and ITV to rely on. On the downside this did involve watching West Ham (the team of Mr TLF) concede eleven goals in two games. Well to be slightly more accurate it was mainly me watching the goals as he tended to leave the room in a stompy kind of fashion once the first few had gone in. The irony of course, which has not escaped him and several of my followers, is that if we were watching TATTPIB in their many TV appearances, Chez TLF would be a very jolly place indeed. It seems to giving great pleasure to some to query whether this was the year to go cold turkey on TATTPIB, whether they are succeeding because, to quote, “I don’t give a shit” or whether maybe I should ‘just go back to them.’ These calls were turning into a deafening chorus on Friday night – it reminded me of the Heaven 17 song, “Temptation”, but I stood firm. Well apart from a sneaky check of the score line against The Sheep (bad TLF). 4-1 to TATTPIB. Inevitable – I am starting to think they are winning just to piss me off.

Where was I? Oh yes Monday night’s game. AFC Totton, languishing in the bottom half of the league had tottered (BOOMBOOM) along to Clarence Park. Even though I made a fairly late appearance I still had time to mess with the bar staff’s minds as I eschewed (God that is a great word) the Stella for a J2O. I am not doing the dry January thing you understand. That is something I am not capable of. Instead I was having an AFD (alcohol free day) in an effort to give my liver some time off in lieu in light of its sterling efforts over Xmas and new year…and er most of January to date. I did of course not eschew my favourite snack based product, and was thus identified as TLF by Mark, the website editor. Well editor and also sado-masochist (sorry Mark). I say this not because of anything he was wearing but because he is the man taking a spreadsheet of the records of every St Albans game to date (and that’s quite a few games) and using it to input the player records onto the website. A labour of love and also a tribute to his Granddad who once played for the mighty Saints. Makes my weekly offering look a bit lazy.

It is fair to say that St Albans did make heavy weather of the game but as I have said previously ‘a win’s a win’ and at Clarence Park there is always something to put a smile on your face…which this week came in the shape of:

• The goal-scoring debut of Kerrea Gilbert. Yes I know he once played for Arsenal but more importantly (and I am pleased to see most reporters are now acknowledging) he played 34 games on loan, during the League One Championship winning season, for TATTPIB. Surely the pinnacle of any player’s career?

• The Totton shirts. No disrespect gents but someone’s mum did pop into BHS didn’t she? She spotted 15 white cotton T-shirts with navy sleeves? And BHS threw in a set of stencils to do the squad numbers.

• Davie Mac reviewing his 15…yes FIFTEEN golden goal tickets during the second half by the aid of some bad floodlights, and of course not winning with any of them, a perfect terrace moment. Makes my one golden goal ticket per game look well amateurish.

Oh and I also got introduced to Malcolm in the second half….’Just’ another one of the Scottish contingent I thought. Oh and then Ron and Davie mention he is the President of the Club. Thanks guys. If I had known that I would have curtsied, having been brought up proper.

So after the famine of late December/early January comes the feast of two consecutive Saturday home games….accompanied I can assure you, the bar staff and my liver by a feast of Stella to blot out any lingering memories of the J2O experience.

Match stats:
St Albans 4 AFC Totton 2
Attendance 268
Raffle tickets purchased 5 Prizes won 0
Losing golden goal tickets purchased 1
Bacon fries consumed 1 packet
Additional item from Andy’s van 1. The best bacon cob in a very long time. With onions – thus contributing to my five a day. The healthy guide to non-league football, that’s me
Lager consumed ZIP, ZILCH, NONE. Instead a J2O. Flavour unclear – red and sugary. NOT to be repeated.

Thing Learnt This Week
See reference to J2O

Alcohol Free Fox

Posted in Football deprived, Match days | Comments Off on Feast or famine

Just william

Posted on January 7, 2014 by Sophie

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of majesty,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this Clarence Park….

Ooops, sorry have come over a bit Shakespeare this week as while the rain didn’t stop the mighty Saints this weekend a little bit of kulture did mean that yours truly wasn’t able to put in a shift on the soggy terraces. I know – a fickle fan, but what is a gal meant to do? Much as I am a mighty Saints convert, a hot Saturday afternoon date with David Tennant was not something I could give up. Oh, alright, to be a little more accurate; David Tennant, TLF and 1159 other people at the Barbican Theatre.

This impending collision of my two favourite worlds (sounds a bit like a horoscope… “The rising winter alignment of yellow and blue moons will be partially eclipsed by two colliding stars as David rises out of the planet Richard II”) was one of the reasons why the planned New Year’s Day adventure to Biggleswade was extra important. Apart from hopefully getting the promotion express back on track after a slight derailment at Hungerford it would keep any risk of football famine at bay. Sadly the Biggleswade pitch couldn’t cope with the tempest- like conditions and the game was postponed by 10.30am News Years Day.

What I hadn’t appreciated was that I wasn’t the only one keen on me spending my first day of 2014 in the glamorous environs of Biggleswade (or “Thingy-woteva-sade” as it became known on New Years Eve, as its name changed at a rate directly proportionate to mojito consumption levels). Turns out that my footballing absences give Mr TLF a little bit of his very own ‘me time’. To the extent that when I informed him of the postponement and the fact that I was going nowhere his face didn’t light up in the way I would have expected upon hearing this alleged ‘good news’. There was no response of, “all’s well that ends well.” Nope. Instead he suggested that I could perhaps go out and pretend to be at football and then come back at 7pm; cold and wet and he’d have my dinner ready.

And to think of the effort I wasted on sneaking this fixture into my calendar. Casually over a nice lunch out I mentioned in the vaguest of terms the idea of going to the Biggleswade game, “Something I was toying with but hadn’t really got any strong views about, and subject to his opinion would take a measure for measured decision about the whole thing. Didn’t really mind either way really.” This feigned lack of real interest seemed to be quite convincing, until he asked where on earth Biggleswade was located….and I blabbed the whole plan – train times, distance from station to ground, likely ETA back in St Albans, intended train snacks, the year Biggleswade FC was founded and how they celebrate twelfth night (ok, that one is probably pushing my luck). Clearly a career in M15 does not await TLF. Fortunately he was distracted by the arrival of the main course as I committed this schoolboy error and my fears that he would realise what I was up to turned out to be much ado about nothing.

Talking of Shakespeare, do you know there are a mere two football references in his entire output? I am talking about ACTUAL lines, not badly interpreted puns. Heaven forfend that you would ever catch me doing something like that – in your (midsummer night’s) dreams. I have a steange feeling though that there has probably been enough Shakespeare for one week so I will leave that for another time….Just be grateful I didn’t try anything with Coriolanus.

Ye Olde Lost Foxe

Thing I Learnt Today
If you are going to miss a 4-0 home win, then make sure you miss it for something almost as good – cheers Mr Tennant!

Posted in Football deprived, Very random | 2 Comments

3D Boxing Day

Posted on December 31, 2013 by Sophie

Waking up on Boxing Day morning there was a palpable air of tension Chez TLF. Nothing to do with the day before’s sprouts or indeed the three points at stake in the impending derby game. Rather it was the impending debut at that impending game (that’s enough impendings) of Mr TLF that was the source of pre-match nerves. Would he remember to cheer the team in yellow and blue? Would he be really fed up and cold? Would he order a ‘proper’ drink in the bar? Would he experience the same warm welcome from Clarence Parkers that I have bored him stupid about? Was I asking him to take on too much? Our first Christmas together and now his first team debut. All in the space of 48 hours? And how would he handle the disappointment of an absent Andy snack van? (Andy being otherwise engaged in Lapland. A holiday he claims but my suspicion is that this is the beginnings of a bacon cob export business………)

Well as it turned out, Mr TLF has delivered. At the end of the day, when all is said and done, the lad’s done well. He’s got himself down to Clarence Park, brushed off the equivalent of a welcoming two footed tackle, as at the turnstile, Knocky greets TLF with a cheery, “I see you’ve bought your Dad.” And made it smoothly to the bar.

There’s a moment’s hesitation and I worry that inexperience might mean he chooses the wrong option; but no he’s gone straight in with the IPA knowing that a tomato juice just won’t cut it at this level. He keeps his wits about him, as John makes the wry observation on being introduced, “I’ve read a lot about you.” And if you look at the replay, it’s TLF who looks like she’s been caught out there. Despite protestations that this is all handbags/simulation/tapping up, the programme catches TLF out with the opening paragraph of her latest contribution referencing Mr TLF himself – caught bang to rights and it’s a yellow card for TLF.

Next big test for the debutant of course is negotiating the terraces and to be fair to him, he’s got himself out there, looked for the ball and worked out that we stand behind whatever goal we are shooting into. Once there he’s started to relax, been knocking a few bon mots about and you see his confidence growing as he even finds the time to comment on Chesham’s goalie’s slightly less than svelte-like figure. He even looks like he might be enjoying the game.

He finishes with a flourish as he sensibly and correctly observes that St. Albans deserved more than a draw. There’s a bit of a schoolboy error when he asks for the big screen so he can see a video replay of one of the goals, but for a debutant I don’t think the gaffer could have asked for any more. Post match I ask him how quickly he expects to get another run out. “When it’s warmer.”
Wise Mr TLF

Match stats
St Albans 2 Chesham United 2
Attendance: 730
Raffle Tickets purchased: 10 Prizes won 0
Festive snack consumption: Bacon Fries 1 Packet, Mince Pies 1, Goose and cranberry sauce sandwiches 2
Lager consumed 1.5 pints Stella

Thing I Learned Today
Don’t underestimate the importance of going to a Boxing Day match. We met 3 nice guys in the bar – an older guy with his daughters’ husbands in tow. Every year they go to a game on Boxing Day. None of their teams were playing at home this year, so they picked St Albans City FC. Never been before, probably won’t again but “it’s tradition”. They told me they liked the bar, made a feeble attempt to steal my sandwich and at half time said they were enjoying the game. Wouldn’t happen in the Premiership (and yes I know its a VERY long time since I have been there).

Still Festive Fox

Posted in Match days, Very random | 2 Comments

Festive message from a Fox

Posted on December 25, 2013 by Sophie

If it is a good enough for the Monarch, it is good enough for me. A brief picture message, which provides reassurances for the Bah Humbuggers amongst you and hopefully makes those of you who are embracing your inner elf, smile. A quality (and foxy) card from the excellent www.arthousemeath.com. Designed by Janine Gourong, bought on St Albans market and which Mr TLF will be opening shortly.
Here’s to a GCD and a BDDT (Good Christmas Day and Boxing Day Derby Thriller)
Santa Fox

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!

Posted in Very random | Comments Off on Festive message from a Fox

Festive Fox’s Top Ten

Posted on December 23, 2013 by Sophie

I will admit to being a bit of a sucker for the old Christmas traditions – advent calendars (NOT the chocolate ones, I’m a bit old skool, just a picture in a window is fine), proper christmas trees that start dropping their needles a millisecond after they are in the house, a bit of Bing crooning away, several hours in front of some spectacularly dodgy telly and the bottle of port polished off before the Christmas Day Dr Who special. (OH. That’s a new tradition is it? Good to know I invented something).

This year I am embracing an extra tradition as I ape the fourth estate’s penchant for a bit of a look back at the year that has been. I won’t be bothering with an in depth analysis of the political climate, analysing whether the Tories made the right response to UKIP’s success in the polls, debating whether we really are in an economic up turn or assessing what positives twerking brings to the feminist agenda…although a quick guess on that latter point would be; Not A Right Lot. The fox’s focus will, albeit briefly, as I have a mountain of Mr TLF’s presents to wrap (with that Boxing Day match ticket obviously being the piece de resistance) be on matters of a sporting nature. And also a selfish nature as really I think its time I took a look at how the fox has fared since flinging aside forty four years of following the Foxes (that’s enough Fs for one blogpost).

The minute I abandoned them, there was an inevitability that the 2013/14 season would be a good un for TATTPIB. And to date, so my friends gleefully tell me…and the occasional match report assures me, they have. Well good. I can’t pretend I am not pleased. The reality is I can’t just turn my feelings off. Leaving a football club isn’t like leaving a bloke or having a varicose vein removed and under local anaesthetic. And that was weird let me tell you….the vein removal, not the leaving a bloke. Uhoh I digress. To get back on track….not being part of TATTPIB’s season is surprisingly ok. Not because I know that the inevitable post Xmas implosion is lurking around the corner, but for ten very simple Saintly reasons:

St Albans City FC are having a pretty decent season. A good run in the FA Cup and FA Trophy and the best away record since 1921. Great team, great management and owners working together – a far cry from what we sometimes see in the ‘bigger leagues’ and fantastic that I am getting to witness it
The People. Who introduce themselves before they buy you a drink, or introduce themselves after they pass round the hip flask, or know to start pouring half a Stella when you approach the bar, or just start talking to you because if you’re turning up week after week at Clarence Park you must be vaguely ok
Non-league referees. Reminding you that at every level of football they will make really PANTS decisions
The volunteers. Who have been dead kind and welcoming to this idiot woman from Lesta and who as the Chairman rightly alluded to in his Xmas message make a vital contribution to the club
The journey. Hang your head in shame 2 hour, £55 day return to Lesta and step forward 30 minute walk to Clarence Park
Raffles and golden goals. Nevermind the excitement on the pitch, weekly gambling of a small albeit unsuccessful nature is my cup of tea
Andy’s snack van. Yes of course there is no shortage of purveyors of fried comestibles at Filbert Way (oh ok. The King Power Stadium) but will they fry your bacon to your particular requirements, discuss football, life, the universe and everything or call most customers “Geez”? I don’t think so.
The chants. Occasionally dubious, often witty. Hemel at home being a footballing gold moment
The Programme. Great quality, produced not by a department, but by a one man programme creating machine; Lee. Obviously an editing, writing and printing genius…and not just cos sometimes he puts my blog in it.
This bloody blog. A labour of love but every idea that pings randomly into my head (and they are, I know VERY random) or nice comment received is like hitting a 90th minute winner into the top corner.

It has been a funny old 6 months but let me assure you, TATTPIB-deprivation is definitely not life-threatening.

Season’s Saintly Greetings
The Festive Fox

Posted in A previous life | 4 Comments

Bah Humbug

Posted on December 17, 2013 by Sophie

Being a bit of a Christmas curmudgeon, Mr TLF will often incur my wrath by using the line, “it’s a funny time of the year”, as an excuse for all manner of grumpiness, or general blokey-slackness. I usually give this phrase the contempt it deserves and dismiss it. But this year I seem to have become similarly infected.

It all started on Saturday with a little bit of…..eek. Change. Once I have routine I am not a fan of change. So you can imagine I was reeling when on my arrival at Clarence Park, (having mustered the courage to use a different turnstile…well the other turnstile), I saw that Andy’s van was in the WRONG place. Not by much, but enough to freak me out. Turns out that the hordes at the Mansfield game meant it was all a bit tight in that corner of the ground, and so slight worries on the (Christmas) elf and safety grounds.

Still I hoped that would be the end of the afternoon’s trauma, but no. Due to the segregation the usual ‘behind the goal at each end’ approach was off the menu and so we ended up on the corner nearest the away end for the first half. More change. A minor plus was that John F and I did a brief double act chant as we walked round which he made me start. Although after 3 lines he got distracted with a conversation and I was left with a my slightly meek “yellow and blue army” disappearing into the breeze. The match officials contrived to sustain curmudgeon levels with some shocking decisions. While I think we would all accept that Cambridge were the better team (although not the better fans obviously) the last few minutes of injury time were farcical as the goal line seemed to become invisible and the Saints were reduced to 9 men. On the plus side that did mean no replay and so the home League game on Monday night against Bashley went ahead.

Now you would think that a 2-0 home win which lifted us to 6th in the league, within touching distance of the play-off places would see off this new and unwelcome curmudgeonly state. Not if you stand in the pouring rain for 90 minutes, on a skool night, watching an uninspiring performance against the bottom of the league side who were reduced to 10 men in the second minute and then go home to a blown fuse and a tripped fuse it won’t. Not to worry. I am sure a few hours Xmas shopping in central London later this week will make it all better.
………Won’t it?

Match 1 stats:
St Albans 1 Cambridge United 2
Attendance 887
Raffle tickets purchased 10 Prizes won 0.
Losing golden goal tickets purchased 1
Bacon fries consumed 1 packet
Lager consumed 2.5 pints Stella
Addtional retail item purchased: 1 small away shirt (for 6 year godson who WILL LIKE IT)

Match 2 stats:
St Albans 2 Bashley 0
Attendance: 280
Financial Investment Return: As above
Bacon fries consumed 1 packet.
Additional item from Andy’s now correctly placed van 1. A bacon cob
Lager consumed 0.5 pint Stella, followed by a point of Kopperberg. Mixed berry! What am I doing!?

TILT
It’s Carlsberg not Fosters

Ebenezer Fox

Posted in Match days | Comments Off on Bah Humbug

Bin it!!!

Posted on December 10, 2013 by Sophie

Since I boxed up all my TATTPIB accoutrement I confess that I have come across the occasional stowaway item; a fridge magnet in a drawer, a scrunched up replica shirt at the bottom of the wardrobe (I know, no respect for the shirt) and whenever this happens I quickly chuck it into the pit of ‘football cold-turkey doom’, more commonly known as the big cardboard box in the spare room. The pace and responsiveness usually leaves me feeling quite sure that I remain within the self-imposed rules of my TATTPIB exile (see July’s ‘Them’s the Rules’ post) and I congratulate myself on a job well done.

Trouble is I hadn’t reckoned on the eagle eyes of my mother who was a recent visitor to St Albans, checking out Chez TLF. And that really is the problem with parents. You can be all growed up, have joined the ranks of the property owning classes, BUT when you’ve done wrong it’s like the years just melt away and you are holding a note from school about some misdemeanour/have been found with a packet of 10 B&H in your skool bag/are telling your mum you are not going out with the most unsuitable boy in the whole skool – honest/confessing you have forgotten to do all manner of things or indeed have done all manner of things. (Delete as applicable)

And so it proved as in the middle of a very jolly evening in the lovely Singhili Kitchen, she turned to me and said, “And what about the bin?” For a minute the Kingfisher embalmed brain sort of seized, what was she on about? And then it dawned on me, that effing TATTPIB bin in the bathroom (“how appropriate” some of my crueller readers may say). The fact that it had survived the cull was in all honesty less about my former football allegiances and more about it being a handy bin. Still there was no getting out of it, and like a Championship player discussing spot-fixing with the NCA after being caught on tape (a long but topical metaphor) I was caught banged to rights and promised that said bin would go into said box.

The thing is that was my 12 year old self speaking. My 44 year old self who is already finding the whole ‘buying things for the house, like loo roll holders and now bathroom bins’ a bit dull and a waste of money that could frankly be invested in sensible things like Stella and bacon fries, has decided to be a bit more creative. It might not be very IKEA but until the club shop at Clarence Park starts selling SACFC bins then this might just have to do.

VERBOTEN!

VERBOTEN!

Pimped bin

Pimped bin

DIY Fox

Posted in A previous life | Comments Off on Bin it!!!

Tragedy. Of Sorts

Posted on December 3, 2013 by Sophie

I can only think that at Tonbridge on Saturday the fourth official came over all a bit Macbeth. Not in a ‘killing the king on the basis of advice from three witches and his wife’ kind of a way (women eh?). More in the form of experiencing delusions or hallucinations, except rather than him asking “Is this a dagger I see before me?” It was a case of “Is this Richard Graham’s elbow I see before me?”

Well no you fool, it was not. Two football players bumped into each other and as a result of your myopia a player who has never been sent off in his career was facing a red card for no good reason at all and the mighty Saints were down to ten men in the third minute of the game.

And yet it had all started off so well. The god of hangovers had looked benignly down on the Friday’s wine fuelled fox and given her a bye on the hangover front, domestic tasks had been allocated to Mr TLF prior to departure for Tonbridge, job application half written on the train followed by an entertaining walk to the Longmead Stadium with several fellow Saints supporters. One of them asked if I might just be the lost fox. I think it was the map I was clutching that gave it away….well maybe. I did suggest that as a woman I wasn’t much good at map reading, but they were all far too sensible to bite on that one. Mind you the gent who I conferred with to check my map reading and get him on board to overrule a planned turn to the left did then confess he had forgotten his glasses; not the best vote of confidence I have ever had. Still a pleasure to meet Pete and John who seem to combine away games with the good beer guide, which seems a very rare example of male multi-tasking.

I quite liked Tonbridge’s ground, although admittedly that was not really from an architectural perspective. More down to the heater in the ladies loo, the San Miguel on draft in the bar AND the selling of the king of bacon snacks behind said bar. The minute I saw them I knew that defeat was not even a possibility, although that early sending off did undermine my confidence a wee bit. But in the players and the fries I should have trusted. A rock solid, gutsy performance from the team meant a very creditable draw and a replay on Monday night.

Perhaps the fourth official had heard me bemoaning my fortnight of football famine (I do love a bit of alliteration) and had just sent off our man to give Tonbridge a chance to eke out a draw and earn a replay (I understand a good sense of humour is rife in Tonbridge so I am sure they will appreciate that little bon mot), so that we could get in another home game in double quick time. Monday wasn’t ideal timing to be honest. It would mean negotiating a long planned early dinner with some friends, but getting to Clarence Park for the second half was a dead cert.

Yep. I know, what a daft thing to say. And anyone who follows football or likes a bet will be shaking their heads now – what a fool, heady on the performance from the weekend and the aroma of bacon fries she had forgotten that a dead cert does like to give you a good kick up the bum, blow a large raspberry in your face, flick the Vs for good measure and then let you down. And so it proved, as the fourth official of fate decreed that not only would the Fox miss dinner because of last minute work demands but also the second half, so in other words THE WHOLE GAME.

Still I only missed a 4-0 win.
In the FA Trophy.
Against a team a league above us.
So no big……..

But anyone thinking of coming between me and my attendance at the game in the next round, against Cambridge might want to think again. Otherwise it will be me coming over alla bit Macbeth. In a bold, bloody and resolute kind of a way.

Match 1 Stats
Tonbridge Angels 0 St Albans 0
Attendance 484
Bacon fries consumed 1 packet
Lager consumed 1 pint Stella, 1 pint San Miguel (branching out)
Domestic Tasks completed by Mr TLF 3 (including washing machine fitting)
Inappropriate use of apostrophes by away team 1

Poor grammar - red card!

Poor grammar – red card!

Match 2 Stats
St Albans 4 Tonbridge Angels 0
Attendance 303
Grumpy texts sent to Mr TLF bemoaning situation Er one or two
Length of rant when got home 15 mins

This week’s TILT (Thing I Learnt)
Cable ties. Very expensive in Kent, apparently.

MacLostFox

Posted in Match days | Comments Off on Tragedy. Of Sorts

And they say romance is dead

Posted on November 26, 2013 by Sophie

Romantic gestures come in many forms; surprise flowers, a thoughtful note, whisked away to Paris for weekend, a simple cuddle and a kiss to name but a few. However I think I hit romance gold this weekend when I managed to NOT say to Mr TLF, “darling, now that you have moved in I thought that to celebrate our first weekend together in our new home, we could go to St Neots to watch St Albans City.” I did think about saying it. And then I thought about the reaction. And in a rare moment of self-preservation and insight thought…NOOOOOO.

Not that Mr TLF isn’t a fan of the beautiful game. It s just he isn’t quite as committed as yours truly. Some ruder people might replace committed with obsessed at this point….I am sure Mr TLF would not be one of those people……if he knows what is good for him. And so it was another football free weekend for yours truly.

While I was bereft of bacon fries and the usual high class cuisine that accompanies an away trip I can’t grumble too much as I did get treated to a late lunch at the very lovely Singhli on Holywell Street. They serve up Indian street food which is a bit different from your usual curry. Top food and lovely service for our first meal a deux in St Albans. In honour of this great event I even drank my Kingfisher lager out of a glass. After a scoot around town and a further beer stop it was home time and West Ham v Chelsea on SKY.

Sadly no one had briefed Chelsea on the importance of this being a perfect, “hearts & flowers, everything in the garden and on the pitch is rosy” kind of a weekend for the new St Albans couple and so inflicted a 3-0 defeat on the now very grumpy MR TLF’s team. Thanks Jose put the dampeners on romance why don’t you?

Back in the real world of non-league football it sounds like I missed a corker. A 3-2 win after being 2-1 down, some meaty tackles, a red card and a bit of melee on the pitch. Not to be outdone there was a small incident (handbags) chez TLFs as Mr TLF suggested that bacon fries might not be very good for you and might not have any lucky powers. And to think I skipped St Neots for him?! So it’s the away game at Tonbridge this Saturday that’s for sure and my tea better be on the table when I get back!

Check out the reviews of our lunch time venue:
http://www.allaboutstalbans.com/directorylist/singhli-indian-street-kitchen-st-albans/3-25-908-2

Mills & Boon Fox

Posted in Football deprived | Comments Off on And they say romance is dead

Hot Tub Towers

Posted on November 19, 2013 by Sophie

Ever found yourself standing in a kitchen in a cottage in deepest darkest rural Wales, wearing a swimming costume and a bobble hat, opening bottles of cava at 6pm on a Sunday evening?

Trust me, it is the kind of thing you’re driven to when you miss an away game in the FA Trophy. Yep. Chelmsford was calling but so was a long booked Green Room Committee weekend away. The Green Room being a bar in Brum that was our regular haunt when me and my mates were in our late 20s, a century ago. In days when the conversation was about blokes, gigs and hangovers and we got home at 3am via some dodgy club and overcame the subsequent hangover with ease and a bacon roll. These days it’s a major result if we are still awake by 11pm, discussing soft furnishings or the attractiveness of a fixed rate mortgage, having moved onto the really hard stuff…yep the PG Tips.

While the GRC weekend is always a bit football-lite, on the plus side it does include, a lot of wine, cake, beer, chat with mates you don’t see very often, a bit more wine and this year….a hot tub, which on Sunday evening is the place to be, while drinking your fizz.

The hot tub might make it all sound a bit footballers wives but I think to be honest it was really more a case of footballers older sisters or mums really. That wasn’t the only excitement that my chums laid on for me to make up for my football free weekend- oh no. We kicked off (see what I did there) with a moonlight rescue by a slightly eccentric ex-reverend, following an unfortunate incident with the car, a 1 in 3 hill and a ditch. Adventure over we all calmed down with an excellent dinner (cordon bleu fox) and a few nerve-calming snifters. Next morning saw us making toast in the lounge after a bizarre electrical fault. Fortunately the hot tub seemed unaffected…unless that was just the wind from the previous evening’s meal.

A frustrating afternoon of trying to follow the Chelmsford game ensued as we left the wi-fi safety of the cottage and ventured out and about into the Welsh countryside or as I know it the land of ‘NO SERVICE’ with an occasional 3G bar to get your hopes up only to disappear in the time it took you to tap the twitter icon. When news of the win finally came through it was very welcome and hey my congratulatory tweet an hour and a half late was still heartfelt.

A weekend away isn’t complete without a decent unique pub lunch. Unless you go to Leominster. In which case you are threatened with incompleteness. Fortunately we were saved by a very unSpanish tapas bar selling some tapas and….er… jacket spuds, baguettes, paninis and that well known favourite amongst the bars of Barcelona; Grolsch. It was very welcoming though, there was no American werewolf in London feel about the place…..although it did have a a lurcher called Gracie who I think might have been in charge. It was also slightly odd, eccentric and random. Actually make that very odd but in a good way. Afterall if one of the regulars – a British musician and one time teenage prodigy (Professor of Music at 18 for flipssake), “classical music’s enfant terrible” apparently (thanks Time Out magazine) wants to serve us our beers and tell me that my hat is jaunty (that hat will be coming to a football ground near you soon) who am I to complain? Bizarre but culturally sound and brownie points with the parents.

There was even time for another bacon fries substitute tasting – it won’t surprise you to hear that there is still only ONE bacon related snack worthy of regular investment.

Don't try these at home

Don’t try these at home

And finally some post hot tub and roast dinner wine fuelled, Strictly inspired, bad dancing to 80s classics. No tens from Len I can tell you. Am not sure that smacking your dance partner in the face with a flaying hand is a key move in the tango but I certainly mastered it.

Then before you know it I’m back home with the news that my next travel excursion will take me to Tonbridge or Sudbury in the FA Trophy. More importantly will they provide a hot tub for the away support?

GRC Weekend Match stats
Welsh hill 1 English car 0.
Attendance: 7
Personal alcohol consumption: 4 pints, bottle and a half of wine per night. Perhaps one or two units too many for one of my advancing years.
Snacks consumed:
TOO many
Innuendo ridden conversations:
Certainly quantity not quality was the only winner, with a “high point” being us all agreeing on the benefits of a moist stuffing. For your roast dinner.

Thing I Learned This week
You can’t trust a sat nav

Green Room Fox

Fridge contents for the weekend...Bizarre diets for middle aged laydeez

Fridge contents for the weekend…Bizarre diets for middle aged laydeez

Posted in Culinary ties | Comments Off on Hot Tub Towers