Get your passports ready!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

5 04 2008

Bangor City 3 Newport YMCA 1
Welsh Cup Semi Final

I didn’t wish to count poultry today so I didn’t feel like becoming really excited about the game until we were actually in the ground waiting for the game to begin. We had a pleasant journey, we saw the first half of the Liverpool v Arsenal match in a nice pub and then we had quite possibly the nicest chips in Wales.
They were just the right temperature and just the right side of crispy. The peas were a fine compliment and as for the Cheese and Onion Fry, sheer perfection!!! The coating just melted in ones’ mouth. As soon as the filling touched one’s taste buds there was symphony of exultation exploding in one’s pleasure receptors. Suffice to say, this delightful meal was worth the journey on it’s own.
The food may have been very good but it lay heavily on the stomach, ally this to the massive queue at the bar and the idea of a beverage didn’t appeal. I went outside to take in the atmosphere, I started to feel the Welsh Cup jitters.
The players descended the steps into a scaled down version of Estadio Monumental from the YMCA fans and WAGS. I’m sure it looked fantastic on TV but what about the aftermath? What about the paper usage? Was it environmentally friendly? No. Whose going to clean up after wards? Not Newportonians I’ll bet. I bet they think paper grows on trees in Newport.
Hywyn was behind the goal so a stilted converstaion began; a bit of action, a bit of a chat, a bit of yelling, a bit of a chat, a bit of singing and so on. My nervous vibes must have been quite strong because YM tried to calm my nerves by failing get a single shot on target. The more we huffed and puffed the more hurried we become in possession. It wasn’t until we scored that I could breath more easily, Peter Hoy football genius stabbed the ball home.

The second half was young when Stotty slotted the ball past the good-natured keeper. Sion made it 3 twenty odd minutes later. We were off to Europe. Stotty scored a fourth but the officials took pity on YMCA. YM scored one of their own and the nervous twinges were felt. Fortunately, the twinges didn’t develop into full-blown panic; the whistle blew before YM could score again.
All of the players came over to salute us and press the flesh. Stotty even picked up one youngster to act as a surrogate trophy. There is something about football-related jubilation that is indescribable, indefinable and definitely addictive. The final whistle confirmed that this was a good season, one short noise was the signal for joy unconfined. Every player had a heroes’ welcome into the clubhouse. On the way out some scallywag from Newport asked me if I understood him, I replied I didn’t Speak English and he was confused. 1-0. The bus journey home was a rather nice one.

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