Super League Saturday for Phoenix FM. Groan. Another 80 minutes for Chipper and I to endure, as the London Broncos calamitous season continues to unravel.
Performances had improved, results hadn't. That was the Tony Rea Effect so far. Those play-off days seemed a lifetime ago. The Challenge Cup Final appearance seemed to have been in another century. Well, it was, but that's hardly the point.
A point was something the Broncos hadn't won for months. The next team for us to roll over to was Salford City Reds. A famous name from the past, with a brand spanking new stadium and big plans. Their off-field progress hadn't been matched on, but they still had a shout of the play-offs. Another grisly afternoon at the Stoop was in prospect, made even more gloomy in the midst of unparallelled British success in the Olympics at just about everything.
It started poorly even before we got to the ground. A group of Salford fans obviously couldn't handle their drink and were wandering towards the ground not so much singing, but tunelessly shouting. Their facial hair and unusually aggressive demeanour for rugby league supporters put me in mind of a Spice Girls press conference. This was going to be worse than normal.
And so it proved in the first half. An early Broncos interception by Amari Caro and try under the posts gave false hope. Six tries later, and London were on the wrong end of a 28-6 gubbing at half time. Salford didn't have to break sweat for any of them either. I filed the report through to Dave, kindly describing Broncos as appalling.
The Salford supporters had been dreadful. Not content with seeing their team win easily, a minority of them regaled the Stoop to a series of obnoxious chanting throughout the first 40 minutes. It wasn't so much offensive to me as tedious. I'd heard every little teenage wannabe hoolie singing similar crap at football grounds up and down Britain. I could see, though, that the Broncos supporters, with their kids who never bother with the round ball game, were trying to calm some clearly intimidated and upset kids. This afternoon, for one reason or another, was going to be worse than I anticipated. Chipper, to his credit, laughed at the Shameless family in the away section and at the Broncos ineptitude. Good lad. I think I was right in summing things up like this, though, to the studio.
"I'm afraid, Dave, we've got another 40 minutes to endure."
It was getting worse, too, as the second half was underway. Those pissheads, who were proving that Shameless was actually a fly-on-the-wall documentary, decided to sit right in with the Broncos supporters and near the two dugouts. Security? They just huddled together and hoped things wouldn't get out of hand. I feared they would.
And that's exactly what happened. Except on the pitch. Craig Gower gathered the ball, and though he appeared to fumble a little over the line, the ref gave the try. The Shameless mob gave ironic applause. But then a few minutes after that, Salford can't deal with a high ball and Tony Clubb goes into the corner. 16-28. Respectability.
The Shameless mob are getting twitchy and start to taunt the Broncos supporters menacingly. At long last, security do their work. One gobby woman, arms flailing and f-words akimbo, is told "Sit down, shut up." When a colleague tries to give it the big 'I am', he's patronised with a 'Don't even think about it, son.'
As we go into the last 15 minutes, and Broncos continue to pressurise, and the Shameless mob get more lairy, you begin to think 'If we could just score here now.' I curse hope. I cannot stand it. Hope kills me time after time.
But then it happens. Kieran Dixon. I want your babies. 22-28. Game on. The sparse Broncos support are now up for it. The Shameless mob shut up without being told. Shamelessly shitting themselves now.
Salford kick off, and you can see the fear in them, they want to be anywhere except the Stoop. London come straight back at them, at Chris Bailey dives in on the left. 26-28. Chipper and I look at each other. "They're gone Dad, they've gone!" He's bang on. The City Reds might be still leading, but they are on the pitch in spirit only.
Inevitably, there's another Broncos try. Did I just say inevitably and Broncos scoring? But's that's how it was. Michael Robertson was the man. 30-28. 1,400 souls making the noise of 140,000 foghorns by now. London in command, Salford in disarray. The Shameless mob? They angrily chastise their own side and are told to pipe down.Will Lovell gets another, then Will Dorm. Only the full time hooter prevented further humiliation of the visitors. 40-28. Forget six golds at the Olympics, this was the sports story of the day, the unlikeliest and most exciting and enthralling of comebacks I've ever seen - and against a team whose supporters included a contingent of scum. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Even the Salford players tired of the Shameless mob, with Shane Long right showing them the finger. Their humiliation was complete, sitting amongst the supporters they mocked, even intimidated, and who now were giving them a taste of their own medicine. Wankers, the lot of them. Have a bit of that you c***s.
As I filed the full time report for Dave in the studio, I simply laughed. What else could I do? "I did say we've got another 40 minutes to endure", I admitted live on air, then followed up with "This is less believable than a coalition promise." Never a truer word spoken.
Even more amusing. Chipper laughs at this obese, 50-something drunk from the Shameless mob. "And what are you laughing at?", he growled. Chipper just laughs again. Then an amazing statement from the Shameless man, showing his own self-awareness -
"You can give it but you can't take it." and he walks forward menacingly.
"What?" was Chipper's response, still smiling.
I've finished up with radio duties and I chime in. "Don't worry, if he comes up here, I'll punch his f***ing lights out."
The drunk backtracks, and as he walks-cum-staggers away he again says "You can give it but you can't take it." A perfect end to a perfect hour. It's made my day and perhaps my year, that second half.
It's days like this, and reactions like that, which make me think that sometimes, just sometimes, there is such a thing as karma. And occasionally works pretty bloody quick too.
London Broncos 40, Salford City Reds 28
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