Songs
It’s all change at the Home of Football. The Groundsman’s gone down with a rare strain of beri-beri (he’s not knowingly had this before) and the electric sit-ons are suffering from the same, so we’ve cut the pitch with a pair of hand mowers while performing a rather basic version of The Quickstep. The vice chairman’s off on an all-inclusive sightseeing trip to Slough, so Lady Sharon of Tuffley is front of house, the carer-less Chef having to console himself with a three-hour one-way conversation while facing in the general direction of the back wall and a pair of deep fat fryers.
Bognor Regis have been relegated and Nureyev’s gone down with them (to Keynsham with King’s that is), so we’ll be spared the ‘Lactose’ joke for a few more days at least. Good times.
Mother of the Colonel has appeared both bobble-hatless and welly-less for the first time this season. Adibayor is down to nine layers. Wixey’s wearing shorts. Mitchell’s got only one anorak in his bag. Margaret hums the national anthem in preparation for St George’s Day. It must be summer.
We have a guest of honour. Ex-GPSFA captain, Gloucester City FC appearance record holder and honorary (and currently only) member of the LOGWSAK (Legends of Gloucestershire Who are Still Alive & Kicking) Club is in attendance and identifies the lifelong friends he made during his two seasons at the Old Wembley (Kingsholm Primary School field), from the team photograph on the changing room wall of the new and current international stadium (well, Bridgend are visiting later today). Most of the team is impressed, though Adibayor misses most of the recount as he’s got his head stuck in the arm of his seventh skin during the naming of the photograph’s middle row.
The Weatherman sits quietly throughout Sir Tom’s recollections, wondering why on earth the sun is blazing out of a sky of ocean blue when he’d been so sure of a monsoon-like early-morning downpour that he’s wearing a plastic mac underneath his jumper and shirt. At least one thing hasn’t changed.
Newbury arrive and focus their minds with a selection of Coach Adam’s favourite numbers. They try Pink Floyd’s ‘Another Brick in the Wall’ but everyone complains as there’s only one Wall in this part of the world and it’s ours. Next up is ‘Cleaning Out My Closet’, but the real M & Ms (Margaret & Mitchell) are sitting quietly, basking in the reflective glory of being Jersey Room (416) Champions. Eventually they settle for ‘Is This the Way to Amarillo?’ by Peter Kay, as this is who their coach reminds everyone of.
Kick-off and Gloucester are in the ascendancy from the outset, with Mr Versatile, Mr Creosote and Mr Allardyce providing a real-life wall of their own, meaning Mr Everett has more protective layers in front of him than Adibayor has on his entire person. Well, nearly as many, anyway.
Will I Am Eleven Now and No-Moaning Anymore, Ever, Lisa, look dangerous down the flanks, while in the centre Mr Elliott, forever wary of an unannounced appearance from a phantom joke-teller, moves left and right, up and down with a nimbleness approaching gracefulness that only really comes from constantly looking over one’s shoulder while in a state of perpetual anxiety.
Adibayor does well down the right to pick out The Colonel for the opener and Billy converts from the spot soon afterwards before shoe-ing in a corner that Lisa bullet-heads home. ‘I can’t wait to come on at right back,’ states The Weatherman, seconds before being introduced on the left as yet another forecast is left in tatters before being surreptitiously deposited in the big yellow container behind the home dugout. Moments later, Colonel bags number four with a finish that suggests something resembling aplomb and making a complete mockery of everyone else’s pre-match predictions.
Big Sam’s not used to spending time in the technical area and as the space isn’t demarcated today, the wing back imagines it goes on forever and fills his non-playing stint by retrieving, amongst other things, the half time jellies from the changing room.
Newbury step up their performance levels after the break and the second half is a pretty even affair until Colonel completes his treble from another Adibayor pass to put the gloss on a fine all-round team display. Captain Webb (the Gloucester City version, not the English Channel swimmer who decided to doggy paddle over the Niagara Falls as his grand finale) is so impressed that he sponsors the opening game of next season and more importantly pays on the spot.
The Yellows stage an excellent second half fightback that includes a first goal of the season for Laverton, to see off a Bridgend side featuring the World’s Best Coach Driver, who reverses his 53-seater all the way down The Elms and through the big green gates without losing a single indicator cover. Coach Delaney would have been impressed if he’d not been retaking his test by driving the girls to Woking this morning. Thank goodness they all think he’s actually got a licence.
The Chef completes his day’s Longlevens stint by sweeping out the eating room, cleaning the boys’ toilets and washing the kitchen floor all at the same time before we decamp to Evesham United and the quaintly entitled Spiers and Hartwell Jubilee Stadium, which is basically a field with a fence around it. It’s like a GPSFA old-boys reunion, with Jamal Lawrence (2007/08) and Noah Smerdon (2011/12), netting their first goals for The Tigers in a 3-1 win over that most well-known of football clubs, East Thurrock United.
Jamie Edge meanwhile tactfully refuses to shake hands as he’s just returned from the open-air WC, an interesting outdoor facility which is reached via the cleverly disguised gate in the near corner of the perimeter fence. Despite the basic wall-less, roof-less and privacy-less features of the players’ lavatorial facilities at the Spiers & Hartwell and ensuing non-tactile powwow, Jersey 2005 is relived in some detail before Edgey disappears momentarily from view before reappearing on the pitch barely thirty seconds after the final whistle of our 2-0 win over Chiltern & South Bucks some thirteen years ago.
Next up is the annual Golf Day at Brickhampton, an event wonderfully organised as always from beginning to end by the indomitable Coach Stalley (and family) and this year featuring no fewer than fifteen teams. Father Knight and Father & Brother Walters make for a formidable golfing group, despite just missing out on the top fourteen places. And they don’t win the raffle either.
There’s an impromptu display of natural fireworks as we depart at a quarter to nine, the dazzling flashes of forked lightning illuminating the Saturday evening sky and like the Coach Delaney and Coach Wixey-drenching waves at Plemont barely nine days ago, serve as a stark reminder of the power of nature and all that it represents.
We can stop neither the lightning nor the waves. Nor time itself. Simon & Garfunkel once sang, ‘Slow down, it moves too fast. You gotta make the moment last.’ We’re trying, but despite taking out the batteries and removing the hands, the clock keeps on ticking. Come on Weatherman, you’ve got seven days to get it right.
Gloucester: Kenny; Scarface, Margaret Albert Pargeter, Big Sam; No-Moaning Lisa, Billy Knight, Will I Am Eleven Now; The Colonel, Adibayor; Weatherman.
Bognor Regis have been relegated and Nureyev’s gone down with them (to Keynsham with King’s that is), so we’ll be spared the ‘Lactose’ joke for a few more days at least. Good times.
Mother of the Colonel has appeared both bobble-hatless and welly-less for the first time this season. Adibayor is down to nine layers. Wixey’s wearing shorts. Mitchell’s got only one anorak in his bag. Margaret hums the national anthem in preparation for St George’s Day. It must be summer.
We have a guest of honour. Ex-GPSFA captain, Gloucester City FC appearance record holder and honorary (and currently only) member of the LOGWSAK (Legends of Gloucestershire Who are Still Alive & Kicking) Club is in attendance and identifies the lifelong friends he made during his two seasons at the Old Wembley (Kingsholm Primary School field), from the team photograph on the changing room wall of the new and current international stadium (well, Bridgend are visiting later today). Most of the team is impressed, though Adibayor misses most of the recount as he’s got his head stuck in the arm of his seventh skin during the naming of the photograph’s middle row.
The Weatherman sits quietly throughout Sir Tom’s recollections, wondering why on earth the sun is blazing out of a sky of ocean blue when he’d been so sure of a monsoon-like early-morning downpour that he’s wearing a plastic mac underneath his jumper and shirt. At least one thing hasn’t changed.
Newbury arrive and focus their minds with a selection of Coach Adam’s favourite numbers. They try Pink Floyd’s ‘Another Brick in the Wall’ but everyone complains as there’s only one Wall in this part of the world and it’s ours. Next up is ‘Cleaning Out My Closet’, but the real M & Ms (Margaret & Mitchell) are sitting quietly, basking in the reflective glory of being Jersey Room (416) Champions. Eventually they settle for ‘Is This the Way to Amarillo?’ by Peter Kay, as this is who their coach reminds everyone of.
Kick-off and Gloucester are in the ascendancy from the outset, with Mr Versatile, Mr Creosote and Mr Allardyce providing a real-life wall of their own, meaning Mr Everett has more protective layers in front of him than Adibayor has on his entire person. Well, nearly as many, anyway.
Will I Am Eleven Now and No-Moaning Anymore, Ever, Lisa, look dangerous down the flanks, while in the centre Mr Elliott, forever wary of an unannounced appearance from a phantom joke-teller, moves left and right, up and down with a nimbleness approaching gracefulness that only really comes from constantly looking over one’s shoulder while in a state of perpetual anxiety.
Adibayor does well down the right to pick out The Colonel for the opener and Billy converts from the spot soon afterwards before shoe-ing in a corner that Lisa bullet-heads home. ‘I can’t wait to come on at right back,’ states The Weatherman, seconds before being introduced on the left as yet another forecast is left in tatters before being surreptitiously deposited in the big yellow container behind the home dugout. Moments later, Colonel bags number four with a finish that suggests something resembling aplomb and making a complete mockery of everyone else’s pre-match predictions.
Big Sam’s not used to spending time in the technical area and as the space isn’t demarcated today, the wing back imagines it goes on forever and fills his non-playing stint by retrieving, amongst other things, the half time jellies from the changing room.
Newbury step up their performance levels after the break and the second half is a pretty even affair until Colonel completes his treble from another Adibayor pass to put the gloss on a fine all-round team display. Captain Webb (the Gloucester City version, not the English Channel swimmer who decided to doggy paddle over the Niagara Falls as his grand finale) is so impressed that he sponsors the opening game of next season and more importantly pays on the spot.
The Yellows stage an excellent second half fightback that includes a first goal of the season for Laverton, to see off a Bridgend side featuring the World’s Best Coach Driver, who reverses his 53-seater all the way down The Elms and through the big green gates without losing a single indicator cover. Coach Delaney would have been impressed if he’d not been retaking his test by driving the girls to Woking this morning. Thank goodness they all think he’s actually got a licence.
The Chef completes his day’s Longlevens stint by sweeping out the eating room, cleaning the boys’ toilets and washing the kitchen floor all at the same time before we decamp to Evesham United and the quaintly entitled Spiers and Hartwell Jubilee Stadium, which is basically a field with a fence around it. It’s like a GPSFA old-boys reunion, with Jamal Lawrence (2007/08) and Noah Smerdon (2011/12), netting their first goals for The Tigers in a 3-1 win over that most well-known of football clubs, East Thurrock United.
Jamie Edge meanwhile tactfully refuses to shake hands as he’s just returned from the open-air WC, an interesting outdoor facility which is reached via the cleverly disguised gate in the near corner of the perimeter fence. Despite the basic wall-less, roof-less and privacy-less features of the players’ lavatorial facilities at the Spiers & Hartwell and ensuing non-tactile powwow, Jersey 2005 is relived in some detail before Edgey disappears momentarily from view before reappearing on the pitch barely thirty seconds after the final whistle of our 2-0 win over Chiltern & South Bucks some thirteen years ago.
Next up is the annual Golf Day at Brickhampton, an event wonderfully organised as always from beginning to end by the indomitable Coach Stalley (and family) and this year featuring no fewer than fifteen teams. Father Knight and Father & Brother Walters make for a formidable golfing group, despite just missing out on the top fourteen places. And they don’t win the raffle either.
There’s an impromptu display of natural fireworks as we depart at a quarter to nine, the dazzling flashes of forked lightning illuminating the Saturday evening sky and like the Coach Delaney and Coach Wixey-drenching waves at Plemont barely nine days ago, serve as a stark reminder of the power of nature and all that it represents.
We can stop neither the lightning nor the waves. Nor time itself. Simon & Garfunkel once sang, ‘Slow down, it moves too fast. You gotta make the moment last.’ We’re trying, but despite taking out the batteries and removing the hands, the clock keeps on ticking. Come on Weatherman, you’ve got seven days to get it right.
Gloucester: Kenny; Scarface, Margaret Albert Pargeter, Big Sam; No-Moaning Lisa, Billy Knight, Will I Am Eleven Now; The Colonel, Adibayor; Weatherman.
