Brian had said he had to knock Bowers v Basildon on the head. That's not really playing the game, putting family first, and all that. This country. Anyway, there was a choice still. I could try resting during the day and see if I was up to the train and longish wander to the Len Salmon Stadium later.
Or there was the ridiculous ESPN FA Cup game, where Budweiser are sponsoring Wembley FC, and in return are forcing them to have a retired manager as a consultant and washed up ex-pro's in their ranks. Talk about dragging the cup's reputation into the gutter. From thereon in though the day got better. In through my letterbox came the Rovers season card. It was obvious to me, once I'd seen the name on it, that the admin staff at the club hadn't followed the career of Rik Mayall in his early years.
Then came the second surprise. A call from a buddy up to some mischief. He'd cried off work for a week, with a somewhat improbable tale, and wanted to get out and see something different from the everyday South Essex match. Bethnal Green United were up against Takeley at the Mile End Stadium. Did I fancy it? Well, no, but it was the best option available. I was also asked to be sworn to secrecy in case he got into trouble next week. So no problem, Dave Lewis of Basildon, Argos won't know a thing about it.
That's another thing, sat navs. You put in the address, the right postcode, and your put up with that automated yank voice because you know at least you're going to get there. Now, my vague memory told me that Mile End Stadium was the other side of the Fenchurch Street line when you come off Commercial Road. We leave it to sat nav woman. We end up in a housing estate where even police dogs walk in twos. Sat-navs? Wanking piss poor piece of shite more like.
We get in the ground just as the sides kick off. It's the first leg of an Essex Senior League Cup tie. For ESL standards, it's not a bad midweek crowd, between 40 and 50. Both sides are relative newcomers to the league, and both have spent the past few years in the top half and competing in cup finals. It's all well and good, but well, Bethnal Green is East London and Takeley is Hertfordshire. It's a bit of a misnomer now, the Essex Senior League, when only 7 of the 19 clubs are in Essex. Perhaps the Waifs & Strays League would be more appropriate.
The game is, as you would expect, a decent one. Apart from the yells of "Trip 'im up!" and "F*****g 'it 'im!" from some players, there's a good deal of skill on show. The visitors take the lead early on, but are pegged back after around half an hour. Dave and I are pleased enough we've found a good game to see. All it needs now is a non-league oddball and the night will be complete.
At that point, an unlikely hero appears. Not before our eyes but our ears. Behind us there's been some excited chatter throughout the game. I just presumed it was among the mean looking lads behind us, so mean that they looked like bouncers for the Rizzle Kicks or refugees from the Double Deckers.
The match is now irrelevant to almost the entire crowd now. We're not looking at the game, we're watching him, following his every word. For one night he has become the Jesus of Mile End. Takeley go 2-1 ahead midway through the second half and it's greeted as if someones shat in his underpants drawer. He's distraught, but still has time to shout out the radio station's name he's commentating for. I tune into it. Not a word from that station about the game's progress.
He's harmless, though, and thoroughly enjoying himself. So are the crowd. We're a kindly sort. We're not laughing at him, we're laughing at the spectacle he's creating. We're all loving the unrelenting enthusiasm he's putting into it, the thumping of the desk, the jumping, the high pitch squeal. All for a football game that everyone on the planet bar those present couldn't give a stuff about.
I for one hope he had some sort of recording or dictating machine he was shouting into. Not just for the reassurance that he wasn't as mental as he first appeared, but also for the undeniable fact that people would pay good money to hear him. He should go into business with that. We chat to him afterwards and he says he does this at Bethnal Green, Redbridge and Romford games. I really do hope he had recording euipment, as he had no radio bits, and that the radio station does play some of what he does. The world needs people like him. Or at least football does.
The game finishes 2-1 to Takeley. We wander all, fully satisfied from another evening of non-league irreverence. At that point the Bethnal Green keeper angrily storms past us, still in his kit, and into the car park towards a much more menacing looking group of lads than the Rizzles behind us earlier. They're right in front of our car.
For a moment, we fear the worst. Forget about the fight breaking out, sod that, but what if their bones are crushed on the car? We have to get home. Thankfully, the people of Mile End have far higher levels of intelligence than the average Vange resident. Dave's paranoia dissipates as the goalie and mini-mob trudge away, car intact.
Olympic opening ceremony? Champions League? League Cup? Pah. Sorry, rest of the world, but tonight, you missed out. Big time. For Jesus of Mile End, he did talk amongst us.
Bethnal Green United 1, Takeley 2
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