Homeward Bound
Pater's coming home tomorrow with a catheter and a bag attached to his left knee. He's like a kid on Christmas Eve. My mother's looking forward to having a bit of a rest. Everyday since he went in she's spent from 3:00pm to 8:00pm sat by his bed like a faithful spaniel. He's got to go back in a couple of weeks for a cystological scan so it's not quite all over yet but here's hoping.
I was sat with a Gillingham fan in the local last night watching the match. He must be the only Gillingham fan north of...well, Gillingham. As a result he was au fait with the disappointment of being certain match winners with just injury time to play.
30th May 1999. Wembley. The 2nd Division Play Off Final. Gillingham v Manchester City. Pissing down - that fine rain that soaks you through. Dearest, Eldest and I had acquired tickets for the most important game in City's glorious history. We couldn't lose. Could we?
Our seats were on the front row - the roof didn't quite cover the front row. We were wet. I remember looking up at the famous scoreboard:
GILLINGHAM 2 MANCHESTER CITY 0 90mins
The ref announced injury time of 5 minutes I couldn't face it so we left. I've never left a game early in my life but this occasion was too much even for a City fan to take. As we entered the concourse under the stands I stood knee-deep in piss while Dearest went for a wee. There was a roar. City had scored a consolation via the left foot of Kevin Horlock.
So what. Miracles don't happen to Manchester City, that was the sole reserve of the red lot across town who, earlier that very week, had won the European Cup by scoring twice in the dying minutes to mortify Bayern Munich. Nah, a consolation that's all.
Then, just as Dearest reappeared, there was an earthquake. The entire ground shook above our heads and the roar that ensued defied description. I knew what had happened.
We'd equalised. WE'D ONLY GONE AN' EQUALISED!
Foolishly I picked Dearest up and ran a 100 yards in my excitement. I could have dropped dead of a heart attack there and then. I wouldn't have known the final score either.
The rest, as they say, is history. The scores stayed the same after extra time and City won on penalties thanks to the heroics of young Nicky Weaver, City's 20 year old goalkeeper.
Five minutes earlier 30,000 Gillingham 'fans' had been chanting take-the-piss songs at us. But now the air was full of 'you're not singing anymore' sung with exclusively Mancunian accents.
Oh what bliss.
Last night I found out what it was like to be a Gillingham or Bayern Munich supporter and I didn't like it one bit.
Incidentally Clive (Man United) Tyldseley is the most annoying commentator since Racist Ron (Man United) Atkinson.
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