It’s been an interesting week, starting with two sleepless nights imagining what Mother Hawkins is likely to say (or do) if Father H actually spends £600 of their hard-earned on that John Lennon poster he saw last week in an antique shop in Cheam. If you’re not one of the three regular readers of this blog, you’ll need to go back to the Sutton posting to understand what this means.

By Tuesday, the JL image is a thing of the dim and distant as Gloucester City FC play their first ‘home’ match in the city with fans in attendance for over 13 years, a situation caused by the catastrophic floods of 2007. Almost a thousand masked-up people stand on their bright red, socially-distanced dots as the action unfolds, while City legend and former GPSFA captain Tom Webb stands in the ‘T End’ underneath his mammoth flag (‘Teacher, Leader, Legend’) on a special black & yellow circle that no-one else dares go anywhere near. The only disappointed person in the crowd is The Photographer, who isn’t allowed to bring his big, red money-making machine into the ground due to it failing the ‘Gate B’ temperature check, having failed to cool down sufficiently after spending most of the afternoon knocking out King’s School pictures costing a fiver a time.

Wednesday evening and we’re back at Meadow Park for a meeting with Smiling Jim (Hart), who’s just taken over the GCFC youth set-up. Jim is best-known to City fans for his time some years ago, fundraising for the club by ambling around the Gloucestershire countryside in his ‘Rory the Tiger’ costume and losing about five and a half stone in the process. Tonight’s a ‘London buses’ moment – away from MP for 13.5 years, then back twice within the space of 24 hours.

On Thursday, there’s notice that two more of our players are in the process of isolating, but the redoubtable Leo Folley answers the call and we’re back up to nine for Saturday’s jaunt down to Lansdown, where the final game of 2020 will be played against our friends from Bath (U12s). LF’s beautifully-scented Lemon Fresh kit is still in the ‘Sports Direct’ bag in which it was returned following his debut at Newbury a fortnight ago, so there’s no problem on the clothing front.

According to Google, the medium-term forecast suggests it’ll be a lovely sunny day in Aquae Sulis in 48 hours’ time, but showers are expected on the ground behind Lansdown Park & Ride. Nothing new there, then.

The players work as hard as ever in Friday evening’s final coaching session before Christmas, the only downside being Girls’ Coach Edwards insisting on showing off her sparkling new astro boots that have a series of hideous fluorescent orange stripes emblazoned across them. They make the rest of our players’ footwear seem almost acceptable, though most of their usual gaudy hue is currently disguised beneath a thin covering of dirt; December is clearly a month in which the ‘A’ Team’s boots don’t like to be regularly cleaned. Barnard & Dix, which sounds like a firm of undertakers – or solicitors, for that matter, scowl disgustedly at the reds and oranges and greens and blues that surround them, while silently vowing to never ever go down the multicoloured route themselves. ‘Like a window box of winter pansies,’ observes Monty Don, our gardening centre forward, a proclamation that makes eight foreheads immediately furrow in a perfect display of synchronised frowning.

Saturday dawns bright and dry, despite the last 24 hours seeing almost constant rain and we rack up at the Park & Ride to be oddly greeted by blue sky and fluffy cloud, something one local amateur meteorologist claims hasn’t been seen in this corner of North Somerset since the long, hot summer of ’76. Programmes from the home match versus Woking that was originally scheduled for today before Covid struck the western fringes of Surrey are distributed to anyone who’ll take one, meaning there’s only 36 more to get rid of before the day is done. Everybody knuckles down for sixty seconds to read about Harrison Barnard’s deepest secrets, though most are disappointed to discover he’s unwilling to disclose anything interesting about his most embarrassing moment. The picture on the front cover however might give a few clues to the answer to that one.

The only good thing about Covid is that it means we’re unable to use the dreadful Stalag 42-style changing rooms at the back of the P & R. As we give the internment block a particularly wide berth, one of the yellow-tracksuited brethren likens the large accumulation of surface water outside it to ‘Bath’. Thankfully, no-one even considers laughing. The extremely nice Freemason offers to carry the footballs round to the pitch and due to this notably good deed and despite his hideously-coloured foot-coverers, he now joins Triple B and Black Boots Dix at the top of the coaches’ ‘20/21 favourite players’ list.

Coach Stalley is absent this morning, though his ‘I have to take Lewis to a golf tournament’ excuse is paper thin to say the least. His kindle packed up on Wednesday evening and he’s been forced to resurrect the paper copy of his ‘FA Warm-Ups for U11s’ manual that took a bit of a hammering in rainswept West Berkshire back in October. As such, it’s clear that Lansdown’s reputation for horrific weather is the reason for his absence, but today’s spring-like climes suggest he might just be left with a bit of runny egg on his face.

As we’re about to kick-off however, the azure blue and fluffy white skies give way to a very big and very dark grey thing that looks to be rushing this way from the general direction of Bath Abbey and the Royal Crescent and within five minutes of the game getting underway, the heavens open for a ten-minute lashing of freezing cold, icy rain.

From a breezy yet still dry fairway somewhere in deepest Wiltshire, one senses that Coach Stalley is currently emitting the wryest of smiles.

It’s during this period however that we take the lead, the home keeper parrying Steadman’s drive and Monty Don pouncing for his fifteenth score of what’s fast becoming a very productive season. The Freemason offers him a special handshake in celebration, but the gardener plumps for a quick fist-bump and a pat on the back instead. On the far touchline, the two older members of the Masonic Lodge demonstrate to the other socially-distanced spectators how Winston Churchill, one of history’s most famous Freemasons, used to greet foreign dignitaries using the ‘Jachin’ grip and make an instant appraisal of their commitment to the cause by monitoring their reaction to his notorious, left-handed ‘squeeze’.

‘Churchill’s portrait’s in our hall back at the Lodge,’ Father Freemason proudly tells no-one in particular. ‘I wish John Lennon’s was in mine,’ counters Father Don, still assessing the potential domestic fallout of parting with six hundred smackers for what that Cheam shop-owner swore was ‘a bona fide original’.

The work-rate during the game’s first third is excellent and this is maintained during the second twenty, when a combination of the slope, the cold, the wet and the additional size of the U12 opposition means the black & yellows are camped in their own half for much of the time. Despite being pinned back, we double our advantage when a mix-up between a Bath defender and the keeper results in an own goal, leading Smiffy to plaintively claim, while jogging back to the halfway line, ‘It’s my assist, it really is my assist.’

The visitors’ rearguard is now under constant pressure, but the Man for All Seasons is looking more and more assured in the centre back role, alert to danger and determined in the challenge. Flanking him, the Hurricane, watched today by an entourage of family members does very well, his decision-making of when to commit and when not to, improving with every game. Black Boots Dix is his usual neat and tidy self – a good player in all respects, who just gets on with his job.

In front of them, Triple B, another understated, but very effective player breaks up numerous Bath attacks and always tries to find the right pass, while No-name Steadman puts his cross country background to very good use by covering a vast amount of ground as he continues his positive transition into a box-to-box central midfielder. Out wide, The Freemason and Two-Foot Smith, both of whom much prefer games where the team’s on the front foot and they can use their considerable attacking verve to good effect, cover copious swathes of turf to try to close down the opposition’s technically adept wingers. And up front, Monty Don works hard to make the most of a limited amount of ball, doing his best to engage the home centre back at every possible opportunity. ‘Alliums for me,’ says Monty Don. ‘Hmmm, prefer begonias myself,’ replies the centre back in one such head-to-head encounter.

Behind them all, Blue Boots Folley plays a starring role. Two saves between the 30th and 40th minutes are very good, the third, a big strong right hand at full stretch to keep out a well-struck Bath effort is excellent. ‘Mmmm,’ extols Coach Wilson in a rare outpouring of emotion which, when translated into normal-person-speak means, ‘Wow, that was really fab.’

It’s a great team effort, but Bath are a technically good side who are a year older and a year bigger and stronger (two in LF’s case) and the extra size and strength eventually tells as the hosts pull the score back to 2-2 before grabbing a late winner.

The shift put in by everyone however has been first class throughout the entire sixty minutes and all nine players can be extremely proud of their contribution this morning. We only ever have real Control over our Attitude, Focus and Effort and no-one’s been found wanting in any of these three disciplines today. ‘CAFÉ,’ says Coach Wilson, who loves a good acronym. ‘I wouldn’t mind a Vanilla Latte if there’s one going.’

Bourbons were half-price at Innsworth Tesco this week, so there’s twice the number for the post-match Chocathon. Monty Don, Triple B and the Hillview Hurricane in particular replenish their waning energy levels with enough biscuits to sink a battleship as football quickly takes a back seat and the chat switches to six days hence.

‘I’m going to give my dad some golf lessons for Christmas,’ announces the Hillview Hurricane. ‘I think they’ll drive him mad.’ ‘Ha, ha,’ laughs Coach Wilson, but there’s no sincerity in either chortle.

‘The best present I could hope for would be an extra ‘B’ in my name, says Black Boots Barnard. ‘Be careful what you wish for,’ cautions someone at the back.

‘I’d simply like a proper nickname,’ says Jonty Rhodes, through a couple of false sobs. ‘Just like everyone else.’

‘And I’d like an easier one,’ adds the Man for All Seasons. ‘Mine’s a bit of a mouthful – particularly if you’re in a hurry.’

‘What, like Smiffy?’ asks Smiffy. ‘Not that simple,’ replies MFAS.

‘I’d like to buy everyone boots the same colour as mine,’ offers Black Boots Dix, philanthropic to the last. ‘Anyone lend me some cash?’

‘I’m buying my parents some buffalo horns for The Lodge,’ says the Freemason. ‘I think they’ll be well pleased.’

‘Think I’ll get my mum a big tub of ‘Vanish,’ says Nice Leo Folley. ‘She’ll need it to clean my kit.’ ‘It’ll take far more than that to make that grey again,’ nods the Hurricane and seven other heads follow suit.

‘Vibrant violas for me,’ says Monty Don to a cacophony of uncomprehending silence. ‘For my herbaceous borders,’ he qualifies.

Happy Christmas, everyone.

Gloucester: Blue Boots Folley; Hurricane, Man for All Seasons, Black Boots Dix; Two-Foot, Triple B, Rhodes, Freemason; Monty Don.