It had been a good start to the week. New series of Gary Tank Commander. And he made a Welshman look a complete twat. You can't go wrong with that. And World Peas.
Looking good today as well. Despite it p...ersistently raining, it wasn't never quite heavy enough to worry about tonight's derby match being postponed. Maybe I should have gone to Brentwood's FA Cup replay. But living 25 miles from Brentwood and Maldon being not within 5 miles of a rail station meant my chances of a lift or making it by public transport were about as remote as chief whip being invited to a Policeman's Ball.
No, it was Southchurch Park again tonight. Since pre-season, Southend Manor had done as I'd originally feared. A somewhat inauspicious start to their Essex Senior League campaign, falling quickly towards the bottom, and an ignominious FA Cup exit and Leiston. Even so, I was hopeful of their chances tonight.
Great Wakering Rovers, after their flying start, had their feet firmly planted back on earth. Three wins on the trot, followed by a succession of wins and defeats, and fallen away to thee defeats and a draw in their last four matches. Adjusting to life at Step 5 had been much harder than anticipated.
Not as hard as the wind blowing through. It seemed as if the weather couldn't be arsed with autumn and was going straight through to one of those cold, clear, windy winter evenings. To warm myself and Ed, Bri, Eileen, Nick and Lee up, I'd been thinking up some poor taste one-liners. Seeing the news about a 15 year old schoolgirl running off with her 30 year old maths teacher, all I could think of was to say "Well, something doesn't add up."
It was good to see the Manor players, including a few that had tried to seek their fame and fortune elsewhere but came back, the lure of Southchurch Park being too much. I can't help it but every time I see them I have to rip the piss somehow.
It was Sealsy this time. He could easily play at another level - of football, not that boyband that wanted to get freaky with you with whipped cream and stuff - but it didn't stop me. I try not to but I can't help it. Still, they always take it in good heart.
New chairman Steve and his predecessor Bob were also in good form. If only their side were as well. I had my misgivings in the summer, that seemed to have come to fruition so far, but with derby games it doesn't mean a thing. A derby game with two sides in poor form usually means, well, bad tempered toot. A cracker it wasn't going to be.
At least there was a decent crowd, comfortably into three figures, with around 200 nads having been shrivelled to the size of raisins. It even attracted the attention of either a local tramp or a contestant for Crap Non League Clothes. You do get them, don't you.
The game goes to form. A goal is scored and I'm not bothering to watch it, chatting with Nick, and his updates on the Eastern European women he plays handball with, which I presumed was a euphemism, and James to the right of me fresh from a trip to Eire. And also the Republic of Ireland. It was Rovers who scored it. That I deduced from Manor kicking off again.
I put my phone onto video mode, just to show the cracking view I have of proceedings, with wire mesh and a coconut shy of blokes hairless heads in front. Just as well I did. Manor equalise. It might be the only goal I see, though it probably won't be the last goal of the match.
That's certainly the case. Manor have their tails up and pour forward. Louis comes out of the Rovers goal but the ball is taken past him. The ball is passed across the face of goal. It looks a certain tap-in. Looks it. That's all though. What happens is a Rovers defender brilliantly clearing off the line. They then break upfield and Jimmy Webb hammers one into the roof of the net. 2-1 to Rovers at the break.
Elsewhere, Brentwood are losing in the FA Cup. That's good for me. If they're out, I can justify covering a Rovers game so I can get home for the Grand League Final that day. West Ham are getting beat. Chortle. Sunderland and Hearts are winning. Good. The rest can fu .... well, they do what they like for all I care.
Southend Manor continue to attack in the second half. They're helped in no small way by Gary Paterson. He's a big lad. About half the size of me. But he's quick and has an eye for goal. He gets the ball about 40 yards from goal. There's no danger but then suddenly a run, a low shot from 20 yards, and bang, it's 2-2. Considering Southend United have had the likes of Drewe Broughton and Michael Ricketts in their ranks, it's baffling nobody's taken a punt on Pato.
The hosts continue to pile forward. For a change, the killer ball into the box is being supplied in abundance, it's just the finishing that's awry or some decent defending. Louis in the Rovers goal has to make two outstanding saves from Pato, one an outstanding curling effort from outside the area. It's almost enough to forget that my testes have disappeared.
To Rovers relief, and to the crowd I suspect, whatever the result, the final whistle blows and they escape with a draw. Five games without a win now, even if the last two have been draws. Good performance from Manor, but as Bob says as the teams come off, the result doesn't do them much good either. Nobody's really happy. Apart from that maths teacher.
It's a good night elsewhere. Sunderland win comfortably. Hearts do too. There's drama up at Maldon & Tiptree. Brentwood Town turn it round, force penalties after a 1-1 draw, and go through 9-8 on penalties. Abs Thompson then spoils the night by punching one of the losing players and runs off. It means, though, that there will be no Grand Final for me. Bollocks. Instead, it'll be chasing that FA Cup dream again.
I check the other results to find out who Brentwood Town have to play in the next round. It's a team in Reigate. South Park. Oh my God, they killed my Grand Final plans. You bastards.
Southend Manor 2, Great Wakering Rovers 2
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