Curlers, Clairvoyants and the Jungle Army, plus other tall tales.

29 08 2009
Newtown 1 Bangor City 2
Loosemore’s League Cup
Newtown was the birthplace of Robert Owen but from a certain, recent, perspective Newtown AFC have not seemed co-operative to me. The case for the prosecution m’lud; we’ve drawn a few, lost a few, “the crowd control approach”, last time we were victims of flag theft in the debacle known as 2009‘s League Cup Final. On the other hand there was the 2008 Welsh Cup Final and our semi-final postponement from that year, where the refreshments were as free-flowing as the rain. With a bit of hindsight it’s very much a case of 6 of one and 2/3 of the other, whatever that means.
We arrived in Newtown and the town appeared to have been closed down. Solitary pedestrians were the only sign of life. It was eerie. Trying to find a pub with nourishment proved almost impossible. As we undertook our fruitless search the lifeless town centre seemed to be a harbinger of bad news. We found little to suggest that there was a match tonight and this added to the unease. A lack of posters is so unlike Newtown. Had we come on the wrong night?
Some time later and the existential clouds had cleared; we found a pub with food and after dining we found a match poster. We were sated and we were in Newtown on the right night!!! As the philosopher once said to me; “It certainly make ya tink!!!“ We humans seem simple, yet irrational. A black-tinged feeling had descended but then two small details change and everything was rosy. Is the difference between a good life and a bad life that narrow? Of course we could still lose and all that summation would be bollocks.

In the ground there were only the usual baker’s dozen of “League Cup Away Ultras”. We did our bit; mostly silent determination. Seemingly every Ultra had the same thought; “It’s a little out of place to be the only person singing”. That’s not to say that we didn’t offer an encouraging bon mot or 3 when it was required. This calmness is the very opposite of the illogical, often incoherent and frequently unpleasant “Premier League Fan”.

The approach paid dividends near to half time. We won a free kick near the Newtown penalty area and Les spoke up: “One-Nil, Smythe”. And it came to pass. Mark struck one of those shots that’s appears to be heading into the goal as soon as it has left the taker’s boot. Our arms were in the air just after the ball was around the wall. 1-0 half-time.

Just into the second half I felt the need of the toilet so I thought it might be expedient to visit the toilet. I heard the unmistakable noise, Bangor had scored. I asked who was the scorer, Sharpy came the answer. It was 2-0 and that would do of course, especially Newtown had appeared to be mostly crap for most of the game. What did they Newtown next? They scored of course. That goal of course made things a little more uncomfortable, 2-0 is the most uncomfortable of leads. Luckily they didn’t add another.

A word here for Limbo. Our captain has garnered a bit of stick recently. Mind you this stick appears to emanate from the same quarters and it seems to coincide with defeats, how odd!!! The critics would have been less effusive after this performance. Limbo’s passing was superb, one particular pass was delicately spread from the right wing just over the defence ( just 6 inches over the right back’s head) straight to Smythy’s feet. Then there is the trademark turn that still functions perfectly. It’s enough evidence to disprove things but whadda ya know, the critics weren’t here to see it. Nev In!!

Bangor City 3 Neath Athletic 1
Welsh Premier League

Today’s opponents were supposed to be one of the high-flyers due to their expenditure. Were they Full-time or not though? We didn’t know but with Welsh International Craig Llewellyn in their team they could be difficult.

Football (and indeed the world) is about questions and frustration. Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. If football was worked out on paper and not played on grass? If every shot went in? If every every tackle was well time? If Richard Littlejohn wasn’t a raging xenophobic prick? This match cleared up the doubts, and questions, at least until next week.

We went one up thanks to a smart turn, and a smart shot, from Jamie Reed, it was good! Just before half -time it became great; we went 2-0 up. For the second game in a week I missed the scorer. After half -time Neath managed to score, the ball sort of hobbled over the line via a post.

Then, for the second time this week, an act of clairvoyance led to a City Goal. A free kick was awarded and Alwyn Spoke Forth; “Smythe, 3-1!!” Again the ball looked in just after it had cleared the wall. My camera captured the event for posterity again. AHA!! It must be the combination of the two. Next week My Camera and Les will tell you the date Britain will be finally out of recession.

So it’s two win on the trot. Is this the start of a beautiful run? Nev still in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bangor City 0 XXX XXX XXXXXX X
Loosemore’s League Cup

A match happened on this afternoon.

Elements Cefn Druids 0 Bangor City 1
Welsh Premier League

Some matches are remarkable for the action, some are remarkable for the goals, some for the saves, some for the kits. This match will become known as the starting point of something remarkable too. Today’s match is, was and forever shall be known as the birth of “Neville Powell’s Jungle Army”. And so it came to pass, Plas Kynaston’s indolent gardeners left perfect cover for the creation of  a Jungle Army. We came, we sang, no-one saw us.

I was using the canopy as cover from Charlie and the tropical rain when I moved and caught sight of something odd; A football match one presumes…..

Our side was pinned down by Charlie (The Druids), our advances were sporadic. Charlie was employing Black Ops techniques. Every member of Charlie appeared to be identical apart from the perpetrator of one assault, he was distinguishable by the size of his nose. The Jungle Army tried to raise our side’s spirits with the waving of discarded Vegetation and singing but it was to no avail, Charlie remained resolute.

The Jungle Army riskily left cover for the second half, so we became the Blue And White Army again. We did our best but Charlie was still resolute. Now we were free of the jungle canopy it became clear to us how they could remain resolute; they had the connivance of the match officials, or more exactly the help of the officials’ ineptitude. Fortunately Jamie Reed flicked the ball into the goal with his head so the Jungle Army could go wild in celebration. We had a leisurely drink in the clubhouse to celebrate the birth of a new social movement, a movement vital in these harsh economic times.




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