Havant & Whotheheckareyou?-ville, Part 2

Part 1 of Havant & Whotheheckareyou?-ville can be read here.

We last left this story with Bath City's defence bravely trying to fend off a relentless Havant & Waterlooville attack. City had taken a 1-0 lead moments before, but up in the terraces there was a feeling that something was definitely wrong. No one had expected Havant to be a walkover, but being five points and five places below City, most City supporters expected them to be a average, fairly beatable team. There was nothing average about the Havant & Waterlooville team that had shown up, however. They attacked relentlessly. They shut down almost every foray City made into their territory. How City had managed to be the team first on the scoreboard was a total mystery. How Havant, who seemed to be able to alternate slick midfield passing with well-placed long balls, had managed to fall as low as thirteenth in the league table was equally mysterious.

As City were (in theory) attacking the Bath end goal on the other side of the pitch, the full-strength Ultras were in excellent position to see the full fury of the Havant attack. We were not in a very good position to see City almost double the lead at twenty-three minutes, again totally against the run of play. Gethin Jones managed to shake loose of the Havant midfield and head down the right of the pitch. His cross was headed by Darren Edwards, and we all screamed and shouted when we thought we saw the ball go into the net. The Havant keeper, Aaron Howe, had actually made a brilliant diving save that we could not see. This was disappointing, because rather than being a harbinger for a period of Bath City dominance, Havant returned to laying siege to the City goal within a few seconds. Although normally an optimist by nature, I couldn't see City maintaining the lead for much longer.

Oh, did I mention that Havant have a player named Joe McDonald who does a fairly good impression of Rory Delap from the sideline? Well they do. There were so many other facet's to Havant's attack that I did not notice how dangerous his throws were at first. I figured it out quickly, though, when he launched one into City's six yard box at the half hour mark. Unfortunately, it was not cleared properly. A mistimed header sent it looping up into the air . Annoyingly, the ball fell to earth in the vicinity of the fearsome Manny Williams. I should say 'fell towards earth,' actually, because Williams was able to strike the ball into the City net with a quick, compact bicycle kick before it got anywhere near the ground. At this point I was pretty sure there were going to be three to four more goals scored before the match ended. I wasn't feeling very confident that City would be scoring any of them.

Thankfully, halftime did come without any more goals conceded. I took a walk with my friend Mark round to the Snack Bar so he could get some chips. Unlike the cheerful, supporter run Tea Bar, the Snack Bar is run by an outside company. The food is passable, although expensive, but the customer service is of a vintage Soviet style. All that would really be necessary to complete the experience is someone standing alongside the queue with a truncheon. As we made our escape I almost bumped into a fellow customer, only to see that it was Lewis Hogg! LEWIS HOGG!!! In the queue for chips! Simultaneously suffering from an injury and serving a suspension had not robbed him of the desire to support his team mates. It was a heartening thing to see, although I feared that if he hung around the Snack Bar long he might be robbed of his desire to live.

Passing through the Bath End on our way back to the Popular Side, we passed by the lively gaggle of Havant supporters setting up shop for the second half. I stopped to chat with one who appeared to be a leader of some sort, and asked if I could take a picture of them for my blog (which they posed for very graciously). 'Are you Nedved?' he asked. I admitted I was, and we engaged in a discussion of the Dover supporters and their infamous drums. Although he had a better appreciation of their supporters' musical abilities than I did, he was generally about as keen on drumming at non-league football matches as I am. The Dover supporter's tactic of walking right up to you and drumming in your face doesn't make them many friends I suppose.

The second half began before long, and Havant immediately began to scare the living daylights out of me again. Twice in the first twenty minutes Robinson had to make spectacular saves to keep Manny Williams from scoring again. Things were not helped by the tendency of the City defenders, which grew as the game went on, to boot the ball forward to no one in particular. This was annoying for us fans to watch whenever a Havant attack was broken up. It may have been the most rational thing to do, though, considering how fruitless the City passing game had been for most of the match. I was sure that Williams had scored when he got a free header after Chris Holland failed to clear a corner kick. It looked like a sitter from where I was standing, but he somehow managed to head the ball wide to the left. Whew!

The one bright spot to the second half was the appearance with twenty minutes left of Bath City prodigal son, Dave Gilroy. He trotted out to replace Darren Edwards wearing his familiar black turtleneck. In a strange way it seemed a bit like he had never left. I am sure in his mind he was desperate to score a goal and snatch an undeserved victory for City. He did not do this, but he sure came close.

A Havant player passed the ball back to Aaron Howe on the far right of his goal. Gilroy was in the area, and his speed (always surprising for someone who could pass for a banker) caught Howe napping. With a twist and a jump, Gilroy blocked Howe's clearance with his backside, a la Andrejs Stolcers, and the ball looped tantalisingly towards the goal. Unlike Stolcers' wondergoal against Woking, though, the ball travelled slightly off target. Gilroy was after it like a flash, but even with his speed he was not able to get his foot around the ball.

This somewhat freaky chance at a goal was part of a more even final ten minutes of the match. Perhaps if football was played over two hours instead of ninety minutes City might have worn Havant down. When the final whistle blew I know I was not alone in feeling relieved that a point had been won (and no one could have seen this as two points dropped). Many questions filled my head. Is this a normal Havant & Waterlooville performance? If so, how the heck did they manage to lose so much ground in the standings during the middle of the season? After the match, several City supporters wrote on the forum that Havant had been the best team to play at Twerton Park all season. Were there enough games left for them to enter the already crowded play-off-chasing pack? At this point, it appears so. The good news is that, barring an appearance in the playoffs, City will not need to face them again. If there is a meeting in the playoffs, maybe this particular version of Havant & Waterlooville won't be the one to show up. One can only hope. Although City battled enough to keep from losing, they definitely left my nerves feeling ragged. Watching a match like that in the playoffs might kill me.

Havant & Whotheheckareyou?-ville, Part 1

Bath City and Havant & Waterlooville battled out a tough 1-1 draw last night at Twerton Park. I suppose that I should feel disappointed about this -- a victory would have finally pushed City up into the playoff spots. And a victory didn't seem too much to ask. After an strong start to the season, Havant had slid down to the nether regions of the Conference South table. Actually, once the match got underway, it became clear to everyone in the ground that even managing a single point was going to be tough.

I left work full of excitement. I had just read that all other Conference South matches had been postponed due to waterlogged pitches. This meant that a victory would guarantee City fourth place in the league standings. The teams in second through fifth play a two-round playoffs to see who gets the second promotion spot to the Conference National, and Adie Britton set a playoff appearance as the goal for this season. There are a lot of games left to play, but just finally getting into the right end of the table, however temporarily, would be a huge moral boost for players and fans alike. An outsider might have viewed the match as a rescheduled, mid-week fixture on a cold Tuesday night. I saw a chance for glory.

Dreaming about a 'chance for glory' is a lot of fun in the days leading up to a match. I also find the anticipation of an upcoming important fixture is extremely useful. I can sit through excruciatingly boring conference calls, argue patiently with suppliers who don't understand their own products, and smile beatifically in response to petty customer complaints when a big match is upcoming. It is like a shield that protects me from the drearier aspects of modern life. But then, in the minutes before the match kicks off - this match that I have been anticipating so keenly for days, any sense of pleasure from the experience deserts me and I begin to worry. I try not to let on to the people standing either side of me, but I usually find myself calculating just how awful I will feel if City lose. Yes, that's right. I pay £10 to stand in the cold of an evening and worry. I call this fun.

Last night I endured this transition from amiable pleasure to mild terror standing with about fifteen other 'Ultras' on the Bristol End side of the Popular Side, next to our enormous white ensign. Our ranks were somewhat depleted because of another match that was being shown on Sky (some former LA Galaxy player named David-something was doing some work experience to try and earn a spot on the England squad or something). The details of the televised match escape me, but it was enough of a media spectacle to reduce our numbers slightly, and reduce the overall match attendance to under 500. Things got worse for the Ultras when the coin-toss resulted in City attacking the Bath End. More than half of our number walked off to go stand behind the Bath End goal. This left a small rump of Ultras, no more than five in number. Despite some desperate shouts of, 'Hey, where do you think you're going!' they trotted off, oblivious to our desperate attempts to shame them into staying. Once they had left, the few of us remaining shifted awkwardly among our flags, unsure of what to do.

Now denuded of its noisiest element, the match kicked off in front of a relatively quiet crowd. To make things worse, Havant & Waterlooville unexpectedly put City on the defensive almost from the first kick. They had started the match in thirteenth place, but there was nothing about them that brought to mind the term 'mid-table.' The term that came into my mind, actually, was 'downright scary.' Most scary was their star striker, Manny Williams. He is reportedly one of the highest paid players in non-league football. His hairstyle, a dapper 'cornrows-style' braid, is certainly at least League-1 quality.

Back up in the terraces, I was struggling. Not only was I having to drastically readjust my expectations for the evening, but I was feeling embarrassed about our lack of singing as well. After all, I am supposed to be an 'Ultra.' It's supposed to be 'today, tomorrow, always,' not 'if enough of my mates are around so that I don't feel shy.' But shy I did feel. Several attempts to start up 'We are the Bath!' got inexplicably stuck in my throat. If I ever needed more proof that when it comes to terrace singing I am a follower and not a leader, this was it.

The leader we needed, taking a long drag on a fag as he rounded the Bristol End, appeared a few minutes later. Our unofficial chieftain, Paul, had gotten delayed and missed the beginning of the match. Suddenly, with his bolstering presence, the six of us turned into the hardy band of supporters we were meant to be. A typically expert save from City keeper Ryan Robinson gave us the inspiration for the first song of the night: 'Ryan Robinson, Ryan Robinson (which is sung very slowly and loudly to the tune of Daddy Cool)!'

This was just in the nick of time. Spurred on by the aggressive start by their team, the small band of travelling away Havant supporters began to put on a pretty decent performance to support their team. 'Come on Havant (which is just like Come on City, but with City instead of Havant)!' they chanted.

We retorted with, 'Come in a taxi, You must have come in a taxi!' This was fair enough, I think, because there really weren't that many Havant fans present. Certainly not as many as City usually take mid-week this side of London. Their response, though, was slightly better: 'Come on a skateboard, you must have come on a skateboard!' Considering that there were only six of us, huddled together, away from the main body of City supporters, this was fair enough. Where had the rest of our hearty band flitted off to?

Undeterred, we took up our first chorus of 'Oh When the Stripes Go Marching In,' and just as we got started, something amazing happened. Despite the hammering the City defence had been taking from Mr Williams and friends, Kaid Mohamed managed to break free and move the ball forward quickly. He got the ball to new signing Scott Bartlett, who crossed from the byline to reach the head of Darren Edwards in, what looked like to me, a very unpromising position. With the sort of wrenching movement that gives Chiropractors nightmares, and is as much down to sheer determination as skill, Edwards managed to force the ball into the net. It was so unexpected that at first I thought I had misunderstood what had happened. It was only when the players began to celebrate, and the ref pointed to the centre circle, that it sunk in. Despite being pinned back by one of the most aggressive openings I've seen from an opposition at Twerton Park, City had managed to take the lead at nine minutes. I was overjoyed.

But I was still worried. When play resumed, Havant's relentless attack resumed as well. Usually after an early goal I start feeling confident about a City victory, but this time my initial thoughts were much more conservative. I was thinking an early goal might help keep City from losing. So much for playing the thirteenth placed team!

And, in this instance, an early goal heralded the return of our errant Ultras. Perhaps it was our defiant singing, or maybe they felt they had seen the goalmouth action they had been hoping for. I didn't stop to ask any of them. I was just glad they were back. Encouraged by the one-goal lead, and now more or less at full strength, we sang for the first time 'Drink Up Thy Cider!'

It wasn't ideal, but given the circumstances I was happy to settle for 'Today, Tomorrow, and Once We Take an Unexpected Early Lead!'

Part 2 of Havant & Whotheheckareyou?-ville can be read here.

Grinding 'Em Out on the Way to Greatness.... (We Hope)!

Bath City defeated Maidenhead United 2-1 Saturday in a scrappy and uninspiring away victory. Who cares if it was scrappy, though? We are now entering the final third of the season and as long as a match results in three points for City I don't ask questions.

Before I get to the match against Maidenhead, though (of which I will not be asking questions), I'd better recount some of the significant events that have happened off the pitch this week. The first to recount is, unfortunately, the sad news that former Bath City manager Brian Godfrey passed away on the morning of Thursday 11 February. Godfrey, a former Wales international and Aston Villa stalwart, was appointed manager of City in April 1977. As this was roughly three decades before my first visit to Twerton Park, I'm not best placed to do justice to the career of the man many consider to be City's finest ever manager. I will try to recount some of the highlights, though.

City's first two competitive matches of the 1977 season were a 0-3 aggregate defeat by Yoevil Town in the Southern League Cup - an inauspicious start for the new manager. After this, however, Godfrey led his team on an incredible twenty game unbeaten run in all competitions, ending finally with a FA Cup 1st Round replay at Plymouth Argyle. This was followed by a quick exit in the FA Trophy (1-7 to Cheltenham Town - ouch!). After this December 3rd defeat, City then went on an even more incredible thirty-five match unbeaten run, finally concluding with a 0-1 loss to Worcester City on 1 May. The only other loss that season was to Udinese in the Anglo-Italian Cup.

Udinese? What? That's right, under Godfrey's tenure Bath City competed in Europe.

Oh, and he also led City to the Southern League championship that 1977-78 season, of course. It is easy to underestimate what an accomplishment that is now. This was in the years before the Conference had been formed. There was no level higher than the Southern League in non-league football. Because of this City were thrown into the mix in the bizarre voting procedure used back then to determine which teams would be promoted, or allowed to remain, in the old Forth Division of the Football League. It was a close vote that year. With twenty-three votes, Bath City set the record for the most votes without being admitted to the league. Who made it? Some club called Wigan Athletic from the Northern League. Just think, with just a few more votes and a sugardaddy with a former sporting goods empire, Bath City could today be the worst-supported club in the Premier League. Gives me tingles just to think about it.

One of the downsides of non-league football is that anyone who sets the place alight when they arrive usually doesn't stick around for long (just ask Bath City's Bobby Zamora). Godfrey's inevitable departure had an ironic twist, though. Tony Book, former Bath City legend and then Manchester City manager, hired Malcolm Allison away from Plymouth Argyle. Someone named Bobby Saxon left Exeter City to take the Plymouth job. Godfrey got the nod for the Exeter post, and understandably took it in December of 1978. So, it's all Tony Book's fault, really. Thirty years later and Godfrey's tenure at City is still the high water mark in the club's history. Everyone, including those of us who were not around to enjoy his success, were sad to hear of his passing.

The other news at Twerton Park this week was more pleasant, although just as unexpected. Former Bath City striker, Dave Gilroy, signed with rivals Newport County at the end of last season. This appeared to be a good move for Gilroy at the time, but as he was just one of nearly two-hundred players signed this season by manager Dean Holdsworth (I exaggerate very slightly), he struggled to get a regular starting place. He has managed a respectable nine goals this campaign, but seven of these were while on loan to Weston-super-Mare. No one quite understands how or why, but Holdsworth and City manager Adie Britton agreed on an unusual six-week swap. Gilroy returns to Bath City, and the struggling, injury-plagued Stuart Douglas (with only only goal this season) will take his place on the Newport bench. City fans can't believe their luck. If ever there was a gift horse that you wanted to take a good, hard look at the mouth of, this would be it. It's too good an offer to question, though. I'll just put Adie Britton down as a genius and move on.

Because of the labyrinthine, and rather boring regulations that surround the various governing bodies of British football, City have to wait until the Havant & Waterlooville match for Gilroy's international clearance to come through (Newport County play in Wales). This meant that the City team that arrived at York Road included Douglas.

One of the first facts you learn about Maidenhead United is that York Road is the oldest continually used football ground in the world. In this modern world of corporate stadiums, this is something worth celebrating. Maidenhead have chosen to celebrate this with a recreation of a nineteenth century pitch - you know, the sort they used to play on back when passing was considered 'ungentlemanly.' Or perhaps it was just impossible. Whatever the reason, Maidenhead's pitch wasn't going to handle the Brazil-like passing game that City have developed over the last few months.

[I should point out that this is a blog written by a Bath City supporter, and if I want to compare City's passing game to Brazil I'm within my rights. Go start your own blog and compare your favourite team to who you like. Besides, City have played some amazing football this year! Really.]

Brian Godfrey's City team of 1977-78 may have only lost twice, but they did grind out a lot of 0-0 draws on the way to their title (seven to be exact). Adie Britton's team of 2010 also have the character to adjust their playing style to conditions. Pushing the ball forward quickly became the order of the day. Despite only managing a handful of half-chances in the first forty-three minutes, they kept Maidenhead to only one attempt in the same period. Did you notice I said forty-three minutes, though? City scored the brace of goals that would see them to victory between minutes forty-three and forty-five: a failed clearance that landed at Kaid Mohamed's feet, and a Darren Edwards header from a Adam Connolly corner kick.

You've probably tumbled to the fact that I didn't make it to the match by this point. This was a bit of a sore point, but I console myself with the fact that the match has been described as 'unremarkable' in more than one account. Rather than fill my blog with attempts to make the unremarkable events I did not witness sound interesting, I'll let you off the hook with a one sentence recap of the second half: City played defensively and allowed a worrying goal at sixty-two minutes, but fortunately not the equaliser. The debacle of the recent home match against Bishop's Stortford was not repeated.

The match may not have been the most exciting of the year, but City's improvement in the league table was enough to get my heart racing. Thanks to Woking's unexpected loss to Worcester City, and Eastleigh's even more unexpected draw to Weston-super-Mare (ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!), Bath City passed both of them, climbing to a dizzying seventh. Now only two points from a playoff spot, City are in prime position to move even farther up the table in Tuesday night's home match against Havant. With the club's strike force now augmented, City fans are imbibing that most dangerous of intoxicants: hope. As long as City win, there will be no hangover come Wednesday morning. And they must win. Brian Godfrey would want it that way.

How to Torture Yourself Online

After getting to watch the first three matches of the season live and in person, it was difficult to adjust to the reality that I would have to miss tonight's match anainst Havant & Waterloooville FC. I knew absolutely I would not be able to go, but I still sneaked a look at the train times from Bath to Havant, and checked on Google Maps to see how far the ground was from the train station (1.4 miles - a 27 minute walk it told me). The truth, though, is that Mrs Nedved needed me at home tonight to put the kids to bed while she attended a committee meeting. With all of the grown-up commitments I have these days I can't really expect to go to every match. That's what I tell myself, anyway.

Fortunately, thanks to the 'information super-highway' I can get a steady stream of live updates as they happen from the ground. This is mostly due to fellow fan 'Sean,' who runs a website called 'www.cityupdates.co.uk.' The website uses a very simple, but elegant concept. Sean attends the matches with his super-duper mobile phone which can access the Internet and adds lines of text to the sites page as the game progresses. In the past, as many as seventy-nine people around the world have been hanging onto every word Sean types in, so it is quite a responsibility.

The other website I always have up when I'm not at a match is the Non League Vidiprinter. This amazing website, which is based on the BBC's 'vidiprinter' which does a similar job for the larger clubs on television, lists goals, half time, attendances, red cards, and full time whistles from the top four levels of non-league football (some 254 teams) as they happen. It does this smoothly and silently each match day, regardless of how worked up and emotional its audience is. It is an amazing achievement, especially considering that there is no live media coverage of any sort for the majority of the matches it is covering.

The Internet revolution has transformed the experience of following a non-league football club, and this is most evident on these painful match days when you are not attending. Less than a decade ago if you missed a match you would have had no choice but to find something to take your mind off the subject until you could find out what happened (at least a few hours later or probably the next day). Fathers and husbands around the country probably spent the time with their families, or engaged in some edifying activity such as gardening or reading a book. Due to the bounty of technology, however, we can now spend this time hunched in front of a computer screen chewing on our nails. Progress.

As I said, Mrs Nedved had a committee meeting she was holding at our house at 8 pm. Through careful child-management I was able to get both boys into bed by 7:40, five minutes before kick-off. I had myself pretty worked up - we really needed at least a point from our visit to Havant & Waterlooville, but I was worried that the 'Hawks' were showing much more form than the pre-season surveys had suggested. Two seasons ago Havant managed to get to the fourth round of the FA Cup and drew Liverpool away - the non-league equivalent of winning the lottery (with the powerball!). Through prize money, their share of the gates, and television earnings the club earned an estimated £750,000. All the pundits tipped them to run away with the league last year because of this, but they finished a mysterious fifteenth. Although no one was talking about them before this season, early reports are that they may be feeling the effect of that cash injection a year later than expected. Seven points from a possible nine was impressive, and better than City's record. Despite all of that, City would surely want to keep the momentum of the previous two matches going and at least come away from the match with something.

In the first half hour things looked bleak. Sean was reporting that the Hawks were really dominating play, and their new signing, Manny Williams, scored a goal at seven minutes into the match.

Reading about City losing with only a computer screen to look at is an excruciating process. I would much rather watch them lose live and in person. On the computer the bad news comes suddenly and out of context. Your mind, trying to make sense of the information, is in a state of shock. It tries to comes up with all sorts of scenarios to explain the news, but none of them satisfy. The only thing a sane person can do, and sanity at this point is already being pushed to the limit, is stare even harder at the screen, hoping this will force an update carrying better news to appear.

In this instance the starring worked. As my wife's fellow committee persons began to assemble downstairs word appeared from Sean that City was playing more aggressively. No goals came before the half, but having seen City's fightback in Chelmsford I knew they were up to coming back from a goal down.

Once half time was finished I began to get the BBC i-player loaded up in order to listen to Caroline Barker's Non League Show that is broadcast on Monday nights at 9pm on BBC London. It is a good source of Non League news, something that is not always easy to come by the way the Premiership dominates the sports media. Luck was in because Caroline had a reporter at West Leigh Park, so for a few precious minutes I was actually hearing ambient noise from the match itself. Not much happened while he was on the air except a City player got a yellow card, but for a brief moment I felt an irrational surge of excitement.

The news from Sean continued to be positive. The meeting downstairs continued in a manner that gave me confidence I would be able to follow the match to its conclusion undisturbed. Then, all hell broke loose.

I must have concentrated on the digital reports a bit too much because unbeknownst to me the meeting had in fact finished and everyone had left. Whoever heard of a meeting that only lasts forty-five minutes, anyway? Mrs Nedved calls up, 'Is the computer free now?' Disaster! Saying 'no' would be risky. This is the same Mrs Nedved who's blessing I need to go to the Saturday match against Hampton & Richmond Borough, and annoying her with Bath City stuff could bias her against this. After making a quick, Richelieu-like calculation, I said 'yes.' Just as the words left my mouth, though, important news from Sean appeared: an excellent cross from Darren Edwards had connected with Mark Badman who put the ball in the net. City were level!

I punched the air, silently, and tried to compose myself. Mrs Nedved would not want to see me acting like an imbecile, no matter how understandable it might be in such a situation. Then, as I heard her ascending on the stairs, Sean sent through a cryptic update: 'Bath City penalty.'

Was this a penalty for City? Or against it? Or maybe I had misunderstood Sean's previous update and the goal from Edwards and Badman was a penalty? I waited eagerly, pretending it was no trouble to open a new window for Yahoo mail, and walked away from the computer none the wiser. As I did this I could hear the sound of the computer working hard to process some data - exactly the noise it makes when an update from Sean is coming through!

Just then my phone began to vibrate furiously with incoming texts. 'Who's texting you?' she asks. I don't know actually. I'm having trouble concentrating at this point to be honest. 'Would you like a cup of tea?' I ask weakly.

Down in the kitchen I fumble with my phone and find a text from a colleague at work. He is a Swindon Town fan, but by glorious providence, had chosen that moment to see what the score was for the Bath City match and to text it to me! He had never done this before, but chose just the right moment to start. 'Bath 2 -1 H & W, get in there,' he wrote. Then a moment later I get further commentary on the scoreline: '2 goals in two minutes, just need to hang on, City going up!!!!!'

I managed to make the cup of tea and spill less than half of it on my journey up the stairs. Mrs Nedved was furiously typing out emails. Being a perceptive person, and of a kind nature, she senses the distress I am trying to hide. 'Do you want to look at the Bath City page?' I gave her a half-mumbled answer and lunged for the mouse. Yes, it was true. City lead 2-1 with minutes to go.

As she returns to her emails I tried to text my colleague to ask for more help. I say 'try' because the message I meant to type was, 'Wife has tied up the computer so keep the texts coming.' What I actually sent to my puzzled friend (thanks to predictive text and a lack of concentration) was, 'Bomb has tied us the computer so keep the texts congo.' Just as I was pressing 'send,' another text came in: 'S***, 2-2'

Mrs Nedved was finished moments later, but there was no further change in score to get updates about. The game finished with two goals each. Conflicting voices filled my cloudy head. 'You said you would be happy with a point, and that's what you got. Be happy.' 'Yeah, but if City had gotten all three points they would have been in third!' 'Yes, but they were a good side and' ........blah, blah, blah. Time for a distraction.

Fortunately I don't drink.