Today was mostly about football. The match today was a local derby, Saint’s versus Pompey. Traditionally it has not been the most friendly of occasions and, frankly, I wasn’t all that keen on going. Much as I like football and usually defend it as a family sport there are some teams, or at least the supporters of those teams, who always seem to bring trouble with them. Portsmouth is one of them.
Of course I understand the passion that goes with the game. Feelings run high. What I don’t understand is the need for violence. Being an abject coward I try to avoid it if at all possible. So it was some trepidation that I walked past the Portsmouth coaches, holding tight to Commando’s hand and with Mini Commando close behind us. It felt like walking to war.
Being a League One team while they are high above us in the Premiership we were the under dogs. On the pitch there was a lot of passion and we had the better of the first half and many chances but, sadly, none turned into a goal. The second half started in the same way but, with just over twenty minuets to go Pompey scored. Our heads fell, we thought it was all over. Just four minutes later though Lambert scores. We were all out of our seats, cheering so loud my throat is still sore now. When they scored again with just fifteen minutes left we still had hope of turning it around. We thought we had when Barnard scored but the offside flag went up. That was that, they scored twice more in the dying minutes beating us by four goals to our one.
Every cloud has a silver lining. We are doing well in the league and promotion is a possibility. It looks like we may even have a trip to Wembley to look forward to for the finals of the Johnsons Paint Trophy, now wouldn’t that be a good day out?