So it’s our chums up north in the final – expect loads of old yarns about pizzas and vendettas to fill the papers between now and 21st May. It’s the final the media and telly dreamed for, I expect, but as a punter, it’ll do my nerves no good whatsoever. I’d settle for a similar result as 1979, except without the goals against column having the number ‘2’ in it.
You could say we’re due a win as apart from the charity shield, we’ve not won for a few seasons against them now. If only football were about what is due you.
I was going to write a suitably lengthy piece about yesterday, but I have woken up to what is known in the modern world as an ‘outage’, which means I am crouched over my laptop massaging a particularly slow dial-up connection. All I will say is that the team that wanted to play football won, and that I don’t blame the 15,000 Rovers fans who didn’t come. If I had to watch that team play every week, using such tactics as they employed, I’d do the same.
The day also ended on a sour note for me, as the Little Chef in Abergavenny, a venue that served us so well in 2003 on our return leg, has been closed down. I am reliably informed that Little Chefs are closing as fast as you can say ‘Olympic Breakfast’. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.