Legends
The legend that is the Groundsman claims to finally being happy as he’s heard the ‘Wanna be in my Gang’ are coming to town again. It’s a big fillip as the past few days have been a tale of unmentionable woe and little else. The late arrival of his most recent cache of painkillers was five days late arriving and when he eventually took receipt of the big red box, the coffee table in his lounge walked straight into his right leg, necessitating a double dose of the little white tabs and he’s now run out again.
The stadium is erected in double quick time and the stick-less Chairman pops in to officially give it the once-over. Unofficially however, he’s on the lookout for a spare flapjack or ten and instead of adopting his tried and tested P & P (Parallel & Perpendicular) approach to checking out the signage, opts instead for the infinitely more successful S & S (stare & sniff) technique to discovering anything E & A (edible & available) that’s located within a ten-metre radius of the serving hatch.
The programme kiosk is decked out in shining armour as The Knights have moved in, YC (Young Chloe) giving SM (Skipper’s mum) a bevy of precise instructions and an even more impressive demonstration of the art of successful salesmanship. After all, attempting to shift a hundred or so football programmes with a picture of a grimacing man bearing a woman’s name on the front cover in the pouring rain is a project that even Sir Alan Sugar may possibly be ever so slightly impressed by.
Lisa arrives first, hair permed in its customary 9.5 out of ten fashion; Adibayor appears next, shivering uncontrollably due to the complete and utter fruitlessness of the ongoing search for his missing skin and cruel FA (Father Adibayor) refusing to invest any more of his hard-earned in yet another undergarment that will be left to fend for itself in some CS Lewis-inspired back-of-the-wardrobe hinterland. Walter has seen the light, having got rid of his laces and donning a pair of slip-ons in order to escape the obligatory how-to-do-your shoes-up monologue; Lacoste enters by the tradesman’s entrance, perilously circumnavigating the big blue metal container next to the changing room in order to escape the mandatory early-morning handshake and finally MC (Mother of the Colonel) emerges, donning her twenty seventh brand new hat that looks exactly the same as the previous twenty six in all but the shade of green and the expression beneath. Today it’s forced happiness; Early Kick-Off = Early Rising = Moaning Son. Or Morning Rain as it happens….
Today’s events are sponsored by our 1992/93 captain Michael Stow, a left-footed central midfielder who a quarter of a century ago led GPSFA to South of England Cup glory on an utterly glorious night beneath the floodlights at Palmer Park in Reading, when a man (boy) called Kes upstaged a giant called Amos and a little person named Jermain. While Goliath was most talked-about at the time, it was David who would go on to make the later headlines, but it is Kes coming out of the top left corner of the video recording (as it was then) with four minutes remaining that we’ll remember forever. Forget the glam and make-believe, the real legends live on your doorstep. Or Clegram Road at any rate.
The Dreaming Spires are the visitors, but it’s the appropriately pseudonymed Doctor Fosters that make the early running, Billy seizing on to a pass from Lisa before finishing with aplomb plus a bit. Nureyev drives just over and Adibayor strikes the woodwork for the hundred and seventh time in twenty one outings after Billy has ballet-shoed in another humdinger of a cross. The industrious Scarface goes close, while Adibayor silkily nicks the ball away from a visiting defender before missing the post at which he is aiming due to a bout of violent shivering that results in Coach Wilson making an immediate note in his little black book that says, ‘Speak to Father immediately’ in twice underlined capital letters.
At the other end Big Sam is just Big Sam, calm and determined with a sliver of steel that helps make him an extremely effective player, while The Weatherman is subjected to one of his toughest tests to date against a quick and skilful winger. Suffice to say, his reaction to the challenge is infinitesimally more productive than his appearance at 9.30am when he smiled incessantly while singing his favourite Johnny Cash number, ‘I can see clearly now the rain has gone.’ Unlike his performance, that little ditty was somewhat wide of the mark. Kenny meanwhile makes a fine one-on-one save and considers changing his e-mail address to something else ending in ‘king.com’ before The Spires equalise from a similar distance to the average Billy assist shortly before the break.
The visitors take the lead eight minutes after the restart with a ‘why can’t we score from eight inches?’ goal and Kenny gets his big strong hand up to deflect a McGovern free kick on to the bar, prompting an outpouring of appreciation from the home end and confirmation if any were needed as to the embryonic yet definitive beginnings of a real-life super-cult following.
Chances come and go at the other; The Colonel brings a fine close range save from the Spires keeper and Lisa twice heads just over following crosses from first Billy and then Lacoste. The latter causes havoc down the left, but no-one can quite get the decisive touch on any of the flashing balls that he delivers across the visitors’ metrically challenged six yard line.
‘Does that count as my assist?’ asks Cover Pin-Up Margaret Albert Pargeter afterwards; the answer is ‘Yes,’ as no-one can remember who played in The Colonel to restore parity to proceedings with just two minutes remaining, an event that initiated an embrace from Nureyev that would have come close to upstaging Clark Gable’s beautifully silhouetted 1939 ‘Gone with the Wind’ clutch with Vivien Leigh if these things were statistically monitored.
Shayne Bradley, who played in the great GPSFA team of 1990/91 alongside FL (Father of Lacoste) is also at Longlevens as part of an attendance that was clicked in as 175. It doesn’t feel that big, but the post-match quagmire that used to be the standing area looks as if twice as many have been in situ there. Prior to (and clearly much more important than) playing for England U15s and Southampton amongst others, SB scored a glorious, unforgettable cannonball of a last-minute equaliser in the Southern Counties Cup semi final against Oxford at 7.34pm on 17/04/91. We eventually made it to the final after two replays where we beat next week’s opponents Wycombe, but that’s another story. The real legends live on your doorstep.
Four hours after ‘The Colonel & Clark Gable’, we’re leaning on the boundary boards at Evesham United, suffering the delights of Gloucester City’s relegation dogfight against Poole Town. The opposition is appropriately named, the weather horrible and the game follows suit. Someone has attempted to pass the ball to one of their friends with a success coefficient similar to that of The Lens’s attempts to flog the 23 Poole supporters a group shot of themselves for ten quid plus VAT.
But in the midst of the mud and the mess and the profanities and the fouls, Thomas Alan Webb is charging around the Gallipolean midfield in his 705th Tigers’ outing as if it were his first. Webby was our captain in 1994/95, and he charged around the centre of the GPSFA pitch in much the same way as he does now. He takes no prisoners on the field, yet is undeniably the world’s nicest man off it. Apart from Big Sam and Scarface that is. He’s never been on Match of the Day, never been nominated for a New Year’s Honour and doesn’t have a Wikipedia entry. He drives an ordinary car, works at an ordinary school and plays for a (very) ordinary team. If proof were ever needed, the real legends really do live on your doorstep.
Gloucester: Kenny, The Weatherman, Margaret, Big Sam, Scarface, Nureyev, Billy, Lisa, Adibayor, Lacoste, The Colonel.
The stadium is erected in double quick time and the stick-less Chairman pops in to officially give it the once-over. Unofficially however, he’s on the lookout for a spare flapjack or ten and instead of adopting his tried and tested P & P (Parallel & Perpendicular) approach to checking out the signage, opts instead for the infinitely more successful S & S (stare & sniff) technique to discovering anything E & A (edible & available) that’s located within a ten-metre radius of the serving hatch.
The programme kiosk is decked out in shining armour as The Knights have moved in, YC (Young Chloe) giving SM (Skipper’s mum) a bevy of precise instructions and an even more impressive demonstration of the art of successful salesmanship. After all, attempting to shift a hundred or so football programmes with a picture of a grimacing man bearing a woman’s name on the front cover in the pouring rain is a project that even Sir Alan Sugar may possibly be ever so slightly impressed by.
Lisa arrives first, hair permed in its customary 9.5 out of ten fashion; Adibayor appears next, shivering uncontrollably due to the complete and utter fruitlessness of the ongoing search for his missing skin and cruel FA (Father Adibayor) refusing to invest any more of his hard-earned in yet another undergarment that will be left to fend for itself in some CS Lewis-inspired back-of-the-wardrobe hinterland. Walter has seen the light, having got rid of his laces and donning a pair of slip-ons in order to escape the obligatory how-to-do-your shoes-up monologue; Lacoste enters by the tradesman’s entrance, perilously circumnavigating the big blue metal container next to the changing room in order to escape the mandatory early-morning handshake and finally MC (Mother of the Colonel) emerges, donning her twenty seventh brand new hat that looks exactly the same as the previous twenty six in all but the shade of green and the expression beneath. Today it’s forced happiness; Early Kick-Off = Early Rising = Moaning Son. Or Morning Rain as it happens….
Today’s events are sponsored by our 1992/93 captain Michael Stow, a left-footed central midfielder who a quarter of a century ago led GPSFA to South of England Cup glory on an utterly glorious night beneath the floodlights at Palmer Park in Reading, when a man (boy) called Kes upstaged a giant called Amos and a little person named Jermain. While Goliath was most talked-about at the time, it was David who would go on to make the later headlines, but it is Kes coming out of the top left corner of the video recording (as it was then) with four minutes remaining that we’ll remember forever. Forget the glam and make-believe, the real legends live on your doorstep. Or Clegram Road at any rate.
The Dreaming Spires are the visitors, but it’s the appropriately pseudonymed Doctor Fosters that make the early running, Billy seizing on to a pass from Lisa before finishing with aplomb plus a bit. Nureyev drives just over and Adibayor strikes the woodwork for the hundred and seventh time in twenty one outings after Billy has ballet-shoed in another humdinger of a cross. The industrious Scarface goes close, while Adibayor silkily nicks the ball away from a visiting defender before missing the post at which he is aiming due to a bout of violent shivering that results in Coach Wilson making an immediate note in his little black book that says, ‘Speak to Father immediately’ in twice underlined capital letters.
At the other end Big Sam is just Big Sam, calm and determined with a sliver of steel that helps make him an extremely effective player, while The Weatherman is subjected to one of his toughest tests to date against a quick and skilful winger. Suffice to say, his reaction to the challenge is infinitesimally more productive than his appearance at 9.30am when he smiled incessantly while singing his favourite Johnny Cash number, ‘I can see clearly now the rain has gone.’ Unlike his performance, that little ditty was somewhat wide of the mark. Kenny meanwhile makes a fine one-on-one save and considers changing his e-mail address to something else ending in ‘king.com’ before The Spires equalise from a similar distance to the average Billy assist shortly before the break.
The visitors take the lead eight minutes after the restart with a ‘why can’t we score from eight inches?’ goal and Kenny gets his big strong hand up to deflect a McGovern free kick on to the bar, prompting an outpouring of appreciation from the home end and confirmation if any were needed as to the embryonic yet definitive beginnings of a real-life super-cult following.
Chances come and go at the other; The Colonel brings a fine close range save from the Spires keeper and Lisa twice heads just over following crosses from first Billy and then Lacoste. The latter causes havoc down the left, but no-one can quite get the decisive touch on any of the flashing balls that he delivers across the visitors’ metrically challenged six yard line.
‘Does that count as my assist?’ asks Cover Pin-Up Margaret Albert Pargeter afterwards; the answer is ‘Yes,’ as no-one can remember who played in The Colonel to restore parity to proceedings with just two minutes remaining, an event that initiated an embrace from Nureyev that would have come close to upstaging Clark Gable’s beautifully silhouetted 1939 ‘Gone with the Wind’ clutch with Vivien Leigh if these things were statistically monitored.
Shayne Bradley, who played in the great GPSFA team of 1990/91 alongside FL (Father of Lacoste) is also at Longlevens as part of an attendance that was clicked in as 175. It doesn’t feel that big, but the post-match quagmire that used to be the standing area looks as if twice as many have been in situ there. Prior to (and clearly much more important than) playing for England U15s and Southampton amongst others, SB scored a glorious, unforgettable cannonball of a last-minute equaliser in the Southern Counties Cup semi final against Oxford at 7.34pm on 17/04/91. We eventually made it to the final after two replays where we beat next week’s opponents Wycombe, but that’s another story. The real legends live on your doorstep.
Four hours after ‘The Colonel & Clark Gable’, we’re leaning on the boundary boards at Evesham United, suffering the delights of Gloucester City’s relegation dogfight against Poole Town. The opposition is appropriately named, the weather horrible and the game follows suit. Someone has attempted to pass the ball to one of their friends with a success coefficient similar to that of The Lens’s attempts to flog the 23 Poole supporters a group shot of themselves for ten quid plus VAT.
But in the midst of the mud and the mess and the profanities and the fouls, Thomas Alan Webb is charging around the Gallipolean midfield in his 705th Tigers’ outing as if it were his first. Webby was our captain in 1994/95, and he charged around the centre of the GPSFA pitch in much the same way as he does now. He takes no prisoners on the field, yet is undeniably the world’s nicest man off it. Apart from Big Sam and Scarface that is. He’s never been on Match of the Day, never been nominated for a New Year’s Honour and doesn’t have a Wikipedia entry. He drives an ordinary car, works at an ordinary school and plays for a (very) ordinary team. If proof were ever needed, the real legends really do live on your doorstep.
Gloucester: Kenny, The Weatherman, Margaret, Big Sam, Scarface, Nureyev, Billy, Lisa, Adibayor, Lacoste, The Colonel.
