… and what have you done with Jacky Gray?
I know, right? This is probably only the third year in my life I’ve been anywhere close to doing something with football.
The first was 1987, when Coventry City won the FA Cup. I wouldn’t have called Brian an avid fan, but the opportunity to support our local team was overwhelming. Consequently, along with thousands of others I don’t as much sky blue clothing as I could. There was plenty of sky blue eye shadow leftover from the 70s, and I even bought blue lipstick. And a ton of blue ribbons, so the ones which weren’t in my hair found themselves in bows in our poor dogs collar and lead. Rocky took it all in good part. The three of us walked into town to cheer on the Sky Blue players as they rode through the city centre in an open-topped, double-decker bus. I even went to my one and only match at Highfield Rd, and was privileged to see the phenomenal Steve Ogrizovic in goal. “Oggie, Oggie, Oggie, Oi, Oi, Oi!”
The next dabble with football was 2001, when Marconi, who had businesses in many different countries, run their own world cup. Being a true-blue, card- carrying geek, I had the hand to eye coordination of a wet cabbage and couldn’t kick a ball to save my life. But there were so few women in our department, they let me in as a winger because I could run up and down the pitch no problem. Our team was called Comic Strip, and the best bit about the training was definitely the pint in the clubhouse afterwards.
Lots of the women were busy moms who couldn’t make all the sessions, so I brought in my two daughters (aged 8 and 11), Who both played football for their school teams. And my 12 year old son who, although far more of a geeky gamer, run rings around the rest of us when it came to fancy footwork. Good times. My biggest regret was being unable to play football in our final match, because I had an abdominal operation the previous day. But I wouldn’t let them give me any anaesthetic so I could at least attend and support. Needless to say we didn’t get past the first round, but we had so much fun and our manager/coach, Yad the Bad, was just the best.
Brian’s been a season ticket holder for at least three decades, and I usually listen uncomprehendingly as he enthuses or laments, with a suitably encouraging Or sympathetic expression. Even I could tell this year was different for Cov, Under the phenomenal mentoring of Frank Lampard, resulting in then the streets ahead of the pack, and a well deserved promotion. I even spent several matches chatting online too our son, Chris, who follows then ardently from afar.
At the end of my month long binge of every marvel movie and every episode of Agent Carter and agents of shield, Disney plus decided in its wisdom that my next venues should be welcome to Wrexham. Obviously that microphone they have in the corner off the dining room add a worked on several conversations and decided I should move from superhero to football reality show. Maybe the link is Ryan Reynolds/Deadpool? Anyway the upshot is I’m totally hooked – it’s a cross between Clarkson’s Farm and Ted Lasso. Oops – forgot that brief binge a couple of years ago – probably because it was less about the football and more about the relationships. Must go back and re-visit that.
Why am I devoting a post to this today? Because Bri and I dashed home from Wales, sniggering at the bank holiday queues going in the opposite direction as we travelled 124 miles virtually unhindered, to get back in time for 3:30. The kick-off of the Championship Playoffs Final, to find the third team to join Coventry and Ipswich in the Premier League next year. So much controversy after Southampton admitted to spying on training sessions of their opponents despite knowing it was against the rules. Poor old Middlesbrough, having narrowly missed the final, went off on their holidays, and let loose after months of restrictions. With days to go, they were called back to Wembley to play against Hull, who themselves only had a couple of days to unlearn everything they knew about Southampton and start from scratch with Middlesbrough. And there was even a case that Wrexham should have been included in the mix which would have feathered the rise to the top even more. Brian is happy that Hull’s goal in extra time after 90 minutes of sweltering heat produced the right result.
JRo Author 