Airbus UK 0 Bangor City 1
Welsh Premier League
This was one of those enormously satisfying matches, beating a big and physical team that also likes to hit the ground at the slightest request isn’t going to feel any other way, even if the final score is only 1-0.
We’ve played Airbus twice in the last month but I haven’t been able to work out how they managed to be so far ahead of Bangor in the league. I appreciate that people could have felt this about Bangor in the last few seasons but it doesn’t alter my impression. No-one could really say that Airbus deserved their win in Bangor and no-one could say that they really deserved to gain anything tonight.
I should have been satisfied at the end of the match but three issues had turned me into a Mick Jagger tribute act. Firstly Les had been sent off because the Airbus defender, Bolland, had been sent on to “wind up Les” and ended up grabbing Les around the throat. Secondly some swaggering teenagers with a drum used a Welsh football ground to litter the air with Anti-Welsh expletives and teenaged stupidity. Thirdly, I was reminded of the irritating spread of the #casuallyobsessed hashtag. I hate it when social media turns the niche ideas of people that know what they’re talking into the widespread trends that amuse wankers.
The last thing happened as we were basking in the glory of a Bangor victory; the swaggering teenagers swaggered past in a truly scary display of bravado. One would have mistaken the group for normal teenagers returning home for their tea if the top lad hadn’t stopped to offered the universal signal of nihilistic bravado – the outstretched arms – at the happy Bangor fans.
To underline his status of top lad-ness he unzipped his jacket, grabbed the breast of his tracksuit jacket and thrust the FILA badge towards us. With this chilling statement of intent, he then left the ground with his acolytes in order to offer more gestures and insult passing cars.
On the Wales / England border some teenagers gave up watching Children in Need to shut obsecenities at passing cars, who’s going to mend Broken Britain?
FC United 3 Frickley Town 0
Northern Premier League
A fabulous win that was made even better by having the new edition of A Fine Lung in my man bag and witnessing the best own goal I’ve seen since Lee Dixon’s bit of class in 1991. The goal was so good it made its way on to American TV.
Wales U16s 4 Northern Ireland 0
I’d never stewarded at a match until tonight. I can’t say I viewed people differently from normal, mind you I refused to allow the fluorescent vest turn me in to an anti-social type.
The pre-match entertainment was provided by a local male voice choir and their traditional output was quite acceptable for the occasion. I like a Male Voice Choir once in a while, especially one that distains the ridiculous bullshit – exaggerated jollity and choreographed arm gestures – favoured by Only Men Allowed. Even more charmingly the anthems were played on an organ, if only more anthems at international matches were brought to us by Argos.
Even with stewarding duties I was able to see that Wales played really well. The lad on the poster, Nathan Broadhead, played really well, as did Wales’ number nine, Tyler Roberts.
About halfway through the second half a vaguely recognisable man walked past, after a double take I realised it was David Healy. Then I realised that I’d held the gate open for an ex-Northern Irish International about 20 minutes before kick off. That’s why they call us the Jet Set!!!
Bangor City 2 Newtown 1
Welsh Premier League
Newtown’s opening goal seemed to be a potent of another bloody defeat but it turned out to be a mere opening gambit in tussle that ended in another Bangor victory. Chris Jones may have scored the winning penalty but Sion’s equaliser was the thing that rendered everyone speechless.
It was quite simply one of the most stupefying goals I’ve ever seen. Bicko spoke for us all when he exclaimed “What’s he shooting from there for!!” as he saw Sion trying a 35 yard shot, it had been one of those days.
For a millisecond after the ball left Sion’s foot I’d judged the flight of the ball perfectly; it was going both wide and over, then it looked as though it was going over, then it looked like it was at least going to hit me. Then the ball passed just under the crossbar. The crowd and goalkeeper gazed as a single incredulous slack jaw. Brilliant? Abso-blumin-exactly mate!!!!