....that the very first thing I had to do on my return from the wilderness, after weeks of being as visible as Shergar, of playing second fiddle to the Spragmaster and frankly being critical of him on occasion and justifiably so...was to stare at the fuckin' ball as it sat in the back of my net within 48 seconds of kicking off.
Now, it wasn't my fault. No, seriously! Cracknell and Spock exchanged passes at the halfway line at which point they immediately lost possession. Straight away we're on the defensive and Hopgood was out of position in midfield because he'd raced off into the opposition half like George Michael fleeing the scene of a car crash in anticipation of an elegant, raking pass from Spock.
Cue the panic in the ranks as the Town forward line surge towards us with a man advantage and the ball at the feet of their useful young striker. He looks a bit of a prick to be honest with his upturned collar and his gelled-to-an-absurd-angle hair and you can only imagine it's this dandy highwayman look that pissed off the England under-19 selectors last season but he can fuckin' play a bit I can tell you.
He drifts past two of our challenges ( and I use that word feckin' loosely) and just as I'm priming myself for the inevitable greedy wee bastard shot on goal, he slips a pass off to the right of our penalty box and the overlapping right-back who, 45 seconds into the game has found himself deep in the heart of goalsville USA, flashes a first-timer past me and into the corner.
I mean, the Triads couldn't have stitched us up quicker. So there we all are standing, staring at each other. Well apart from me of course. I'm the asshole stretched out on the turf who couldn't adjust his feet in time to get down quicker and palm the ball away for a corner.
The Town are jumping about like they've got another week on X Factor.
I remember Ron Atkinson saying once during a Champions League match that it was probably better that Man U were a goal down early on as it would make them come out to play a bit more. Big Ron eh?? Rattle Rattle, jewellery, jewellery...he didn't half talk some pish at times!
When you're one down and only two players in your team have touched the ball then it's a bit of a bummer Ron. The lads looked a bit shell-shocked. Christ, it had only been one week since Ninegate so they had a right to be but they picked themselves up and created a couple of chances in a first half that appeared to be over in under a minute.
It felt like that fireworks display I saw a few weeks ago on You Tube. You know, up in Scotland when a technical fault released 20 minutes worth of a display in under a minute. Carey said it reminded her of our wedding night!! Me too...but I didn't want to say it.
The second half wasn't much better but Mac had ripped into Cracknell and Spock at half-time as was expected and they did seem to lift it a bit. Which would explain our equaliser on the hour mark. Jason Herberts, he's our precocious wee fancy dan complete with waxy barnet and upturned collar, got himself a yard in front of his marker deep in enemy territory. He tried a one-two with Spock but the ball cannoned off a defender and into Cracknell's path. Cracks wasn't hanging about. In my day we called it a blooter and I doubt if the Town goalie smelt it let alone get anywhere near it.
1-1...30 to go...all out war, right?
Well, not quite but there was a fair bit of cutting and thrusting and as we closed into the last 5 there was a collective nervousness palpable on the pitch. The Town hadn't drawn or won away since August and we were still smarting after the 9-0 humping (except me natch...I wasn't playing in that one!) so everybody just kept passing the grenade back and forth to each other shitting it in case the bugger would go off.
Had there been a commentator and of course there wasn't cos football at our level appeals to Sky as much as a Swiss Chess Tournament, then he would have been pishing on about " a goal now for either team will be the winner."
It wasn't to be.
As comebacks go it wasn't exactly '68 and Elvis but bugger me, it felt good to be out there again.
I was so pleased about it that I took Carey for a curry afterwards...try saying THAT with a drink in you!
In fact the only thing that pissed me a bit was the fact we wouldn't have another game until the 26th. Right now, I'd play every day!!
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