We’ve won, oh no we haven’t.

15 12 2007
Bangor City 2 Newtown 2
Welsh Premier League

I was in super shopkeeper mode today; I sold as much today as in all of the other weeks put together. Maybe the reason for my superior performance was the arrival of the scarves. I stayed up late last night designing advertising posters for them and I placed them in strategic places around the ground. This only represented the tip of my advertising work this week; I’d used all available media to publicise their availability, the internet, the programme, shouting in the street etc.

I realised that I could make a good capitalist. For a revolutionary this an idea to send a chill down your spine. Is that why the revolution has been delayed? There must a capitalist in all of us, lurking in the dark recesses of your brain. However good also exists within each person too. Let my experience be a lesson to everyone. These thoughts must be purged, we must fight them.

I felt strangely subdued today and this feeling of ennui seemed to have made it on to the pitch; there were few chances created. We were attacking the St. Paul’s end again and this was probably a contributory factor in our slightly lifeless first half performance, it usually seems to be.

A low sun today made viewing a tad difficult but at least it wasn’t raining. I tried to act as a human advert as I sashayed around the terraces with a scarf fluttering around my neck. I must fight these urges, fight them!!! With little action to hold my attention I moved around for conversation. I don’t think that my modelling career is destined to be of super model status, only 2 more scarves left the shop.

The second half thankfully contained more action than the first instalment, although the early part seemed to be following the same course. The most notable incident was an elbow flattening Webber. The ref declined to punish the assailant even though Lee lay in the area.

Then it happened, Newtown contrived to score, in terms of their play the goal was as incongruous as a modest remark emanating from Frank Lampard’s mouth. They were even more pathetic then earlier in the season. Jiws was the scorer, the familiar one-armed windmill went to the corner.

So that was it then. We weren’t going to win this one, even if we were pushing up with more urgency now. Some teenagers standing outside the ground caught my attention with their foul mouthed caterwauling. I asked them politely to refrain by highlighting the fact that by choosing not to pay they’d waived the right to criticism. However the loudest one questioned my right to comment and tried to explain his presence with the simple fact that he was a cousin of Les. That comment hardly struck me as logical, surely he’d be inside here if that were the case, but that’s the youth of today.

As most of us were preparing for a disappointing result the ball found itself at Les’ feet. A few milliseconds later and it was in the goal. After Les’ strike we started to play, at least it was 10 minutes earlier than last week. Sargeant should have won a pen as he was clearly fouled in the area but it wasn’t awarded. The foul even happened directly in front of the ref.

Then Les got the ball again and did what he does best. So this was the second home game running the Farrar End went mad as the result of a late late goal. God knows what time the goal went in but it felt near the end. The reliable indicator of the time being near 4:15 wasn’t applicable as it was already after 4:20.

Just as I was informing Dewi of the score by phone Newtown went up the other end and scored another. So that’s how it feels. Their bench made a rather big deal of celebrating and a couple of their backroom staff were red carded. Well it wasn’t like they’d won the game after all.

To describe this match in footballer-speak: “Like I said” Player looks away from the interviewer. “If you’d have offered 2-2 at 63 minutes I’d have taken it with both hands, so it was Quality that we come back into it but” Player looks at ground “Like I said if you’d have offered me 2-2 in the 91st Minute I’d ’ave been gutted.” Player looks away from the interviewer. ”I’d ‘ave been sick as a parrot but like I said, a point is a point at the end of the day. It’s definitely better than a poke in the eye from Dennis Wise or a night out in Shotton, like I said.” Player looks away from the interviewer.

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