Up and down and round a bit.

2 11 2010
Neath 1 Bangor City 2
Welsh Premier League.

It felt like there was something wrong all the way down to South Wales, and it wasn’t just the irritating students talking too loudly either. It was the feeling that everything to do with Bangor was a facade,  behind which there was nothing. It felt as if things were going to collapse. The rain didn’t help with our mood either.

Just before we arrived at the Gnoll we nearly walked into Brian Flynn as he left his car, we assumed he was coming in although he could have  been going shopping. Just after we entered a steward told us to put the flag on the far side, the area where we’d be standing; “At least you’ll be on telly!!”

We crossed usually forbidden territory of the terracing but our rebellion was short-lived, a  sturdy fence prevented further access. Summoning the strength of Charles Atlas we casually moved the fence aside. Now we had full access to the stand caked in Bird shit. We tied the flags up and tried to put all the potentially exotic infections lurking in close proximity out of our mind. After this we went to the bar for a  few drinks.

We couldn’t walk across the empty terrace (the closest end to the bar) after our visit to the bar because it was “against the rules” now. A quick leg stretching exercise, around the other 3/4 of the ground, followed. Why are the stewards in rugby grounds so bleeding petty? Oh I forget they don’t make the rules. During the game it was a good job we were on telly as some Bangor fans had made a giant congratulations card for Livzy, who was getting married today. People don’t really appreciate how much effort it takes to make things like this, especially when you’re going to be telly.

The Jet Set spent the first half fretting as Lee Trundle was potentially dangerous every time he touched the ball. Most of the times he had the ball the fretting was misguided as “Trunds” didn’t get very far. With our fatalistic nature this still didn’t help much, what about the next time and the time after? Bangor didn’t create many chances so the edginess continued. Then Trundle decided he’d had enough of the pressure and self-certificated an injury and removing himself from the field of play without permission.

Now this should have been a relief and it was for a bit but the Jet Set began to worry when it seemed that Trundle’s departure threw off  lifted the chains from Neath’s suppressed freedoms. Suddenly they looked more dangerous, suddenly the Jet Set felt nauseous, Bangor didn’t  created many chances to help us relax. We were level at half-time.

During half time we appealed to the steward but he didn’t make the rules and we’d have to walk around 3/4 of the ground to use the toilet. Why are these people never anarchists making up the rules as they go along? Why would the Bangor fans want to do anything anti-social on the way to the toilet?

The second half took a turn for the worse when Neath scored a penalty. It looked to be a dubious decision but don’t they always? Our view was confirmed by watching the highlights after the game.

So the dread of the Jet Set was finally being proved right. The day began to feel wrong , despite our urgings and the exhortations we were chanting. It all felt a bit hollow to be honest. Yet we still chanted, and shouted, and chanted, reflex stuff, more out of habit than expectation of change in our situation.

Every time the ball was in the vicinity of the Neath area we thought that it could be the chance but 5 seconds later our hopes were dashed again. Where would our victory come from? The ball was crossed again. What about our run of victories? Another cross is caught by the keeper. The run, oh the run…..

Once more the ball was launched into the Neath area, once more we strengthened our sinews for celebration, once more, once more…..

 This time the ball landed near Les. Les scuffed the ball goalward. The next few seconds were confused, then we saw Les sprinting away in celebration. We’d done it again, our pessimism and stress had been rewarded again! Now we felt good and all it took was a goal. The low sun made everything look glorious.

About ten minutes after the equaliser Reedy was in possession and running towards the Neath goal. He unleashed a pea roller, another goal!!! We were ahead!! We were ahead and it was all down to the Jet Set’s pessimism!! The match then had the cheek to carry on for a further 12 minutes, why didn’t they realise the fates were on our side? In the end we won again.

Thanks to an unspecified 40 minute hold-up by Port Talbot and a ridiculous 10 minute halt outside Shrewsbury we arrived home at half two instead of eleven. We’d won again but Arriva Trains Wales are officially crap.




XXX XXX XXXXXX X Bangor City 0
Loosemores League Cup Semi Final 1st Leg

A match happened this evening.

Bangor City 3 Bala Town 0
Welsh Premier League

So our increasingly misanthropic mindset had finally been proved right on Tuesday night and we had caused utter destruction. Well done us!! To compound matters some internet-based morons were throwing around phrases like “You’re treating the League Cup with disdain” and “You’re belittling the sponsors”; blah, blah, blah. We know how tabloid-led outrage begins now

Yet we didn’t learn, we still felt less than confident today. We still didn’t feel confident even when we’d picked our full team. Even though we were watching this full team go on to secure  what some people labelled as a routine win. What a horrible concept a “routine win” is. There was talk on twitter after the match about people becoming so used to winning that anything less than 3 or 4 nil victory is seen as a travesty. We’ll have no truck with this kind of thinking, we may be pessimistic but we bask in our success.

 Tonight’s goals looked good, well the brief sense we gained of them anyway. We couldn’t see the Reedy’s neat finish because the crowd obscured our view, we didn’t see Chris Jones’ acute finish because we were leaving the shop and we didn’t really see Wardy’s howitzer properly because the torrential rain had blurred our vision.

The Torrential rain soaked our clothes but it didn’t dampen spirits, some even removed their shoes in the time honoured fashion. The other detail from  today was Bala goalie top. It seems to be made from some sort of space-age luminescent material. We couldn’t decide whether it was flourescent green, flourescent yellow or element of both, either way we need one for Monday nights.

We got to the car for our lift home and wouldn’t you know it, the rain stopped.

Tranmere 4 MK Dons 2
N Power League 1

With one franchise club out-of-the-way this week we thought we’d go along to insult the daddy of them all as well. Before the match we went shopping in Liverpool. Transalpino had closed down earlier that week so we were bereft of new footwear. On the other hand we had widened our library of French art-house films (The largest in Llandudno – now up to 4!).

Just before we got to Prenton Park we had a nice chat with a passer-by “I won’t mention Newi Cefn Druids!! Enjoy the game!!” Just as we were buying a ticket we had another nice conversation; “Bangor are a good club! Enjoy the game!” Bloody hell I couldn’t deal with all of this bonhomie. This must have been why I went in the wrong turnstile.

To show that stewards are an international type, the one on duty couldn’t possibly let us through an unlocked gate, which led to couple of minutes of uncomfortable glances. It turns out he was only waiting the ok from the bloke in the orange jacket.

We wanted to go into the top of the stand but we couldn’t, at least we’d be snuggly with all the others close at hand. We couldn’t help notice that a lot of people were wearing orange and red scarves and some had halved orange and red shirts. We struggled to think of a reason why.

As for thinking of reasons why things happen….

(Rant Section)

We couldn’t work out why that “fucking abomination” MK Dons would have any fans. Most intelligent fans shun them, in fact anyone with a soul should shun them. When Saturday Comes refuse to include them  in their season preview for example. This is how we thought it was anyway. But here we were confronted by their fans. Or to put it another way idiots that provide a club that runs counter to anything approaching decency a legitimacy. Did these people have a soul?

During the days before this game we tried to get a sense of whether the Jet Set was still in step with others. I looked at a few websites and message boards, the punters of  When Saturday Comes are mainly vehemently against but after that and AFC Wimbledon, it’s not always clear-cut. We’re out of step again, yes!!!

There wasn’t much about it on one Tranmere site apart from  half-arsed arguments about whether they were Wimbledon under another name. Another site offered hope with some insightful posts  but there wasn’t much MK Dons bashing. More proof that we’re out of step, yes!!

It got worse when we looked through the match programme.  Apparently there’s an MK Dons player that came through their academy who is now a “Folk Hero to their fans”. Then a local journo wrote that “Forget the past, Mk Dons should be able to create their our history” or some such bollocks, we couldn’t concentrate as we were frothing at the mouth. All hope is gone.

Then there were the fans, firstly they made the away end look as under-populated as Iceland. Then there were the details; one fan had a drum. They sang “You’ll never a get a job, sign on, sign on”, the fact they sang their songs thinking they were ordinary fans of an ordinary club in the first place grated. On top of it all one of their morons did the Sky-inspired “Easy, Easy, Easy” clapping thing when they still losing 4-2.

MK Dons equalised with a Zidane in the 2006 World Cup-esque penalty. What kind of twat playing for a non-entity of an abomination tries to score a penalty like they were playing for Brazil. Thank Fuck Karma intervened and they lost 4-2. Other stuff that we found charming today included, the referee needed treatment for cramp, he booked a player who had replaced his shirt and didn’t have a number on his back, (who would he know who he is?), a Tranmere fan apologised for swearing to everyone around him, see they’re nice people.

On the way home I found out the reason for the red and orange paraphernalia, there were Tranmere’s original colours. Each Season ticket was given a pack containing a shirt, a scarf and other stuff.  Tranmere once wore red and orange, you learn something new everyday!!



One response

11 02 2013
The epitome of Gall « Llandudno Jet Set

[…] that  this “lad” started the “Sign On, Sign On….” chant at the Tranmere match last autumn. The poor lamb probably thinks this is how football fans should […]

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