It hadn't started well. Bloody County. After going about 17 years without a league defeat, now it's three in a row. Worst of all, to Caley f*****g Thistle, after dominating for long spells. Beaten off ICT.
It was the frame of minds I thought would decide it today. If Brentwood had the same attitude through the team that one player had, they were sunk. Certainly, the hosts seemed up for it, from the gateman, to the secretary, everyone I chatted to there. Nice clubhouse, too. Seats behind the goal as well. I'm one of those who like to be behind the goal rather than down the side. Result.
Losing against a school subject. It doesn't get much worse than that. If it wasn't for the fact that Dundee are in the same league as them, I'd have started worrying.
No worries today, though, just a great day out in prospect. A small unknown club, at home in the FA Cup, with the chance of an upset. It's what football was made for, days like this.
To make things even better, how can you not love a team called South Park? I'm not one known for my ignorance of football clubs, but I'd never actually heard of it before. As soon as the draw was made, though, I'd learnt all about the 125 year old, Reigate based club, in the Combined Counties League, that played in St. George's, Whitehall Lane.
It still didn't stop me from wanting Officer Barbrady to be on duty there, or for Cartman to be in the tea bar. If you can't be ignorant, tired old puns and cliches will do nicely.
Ignorance, though, was just one of Brentwood Town's problems, which had built up over the past fortnight. One of their players tweeted about the the FA should be giving them a bye, and asking what was the point of "token teams" in the FA Cup. What a dick.
Then there was the case of another player being sacked after assaulting an opponent on the pitch following their penalty shoot-out replay at Maldon & Tiptree. Then, last Saturday, it appeared that a couple of supporters had been arrested following a fight at Walton & Hersham..
Brentwood Town has plenty of decent people keeping it on the go, and when they do well, I'm pleased for them. It's just a pity there's a fair few others that seem intent to drag the club's name into the gutter.
The trip to Reigate should've been an easy one, but thanks to the trusty efforts of c2c and TFL, they ensured it was another of those nightmares. Strange how, during the Olympics, no weekend engineering works, everything fine for rich foreigners.
Now they've all f****d off home, though, they're back to shitting on the passengers and taxpayers that paid for the Olympics and the awful service they endure. c2c and TFL directors - you're all wankers.
Thankfully, though, the wander from Reigate station to the ground was pretty spectacular. It's over a couple of miles away, but believe me, in the early autumn sunshine, a stroll through Reigate Park is a thing of beauty. Just the perfect way to get to a football ground. By the time I was at St. George's, I was in a great frame of mind, despite the earlier rail nightmare.
It was the frame of minds I thought would decide it today. If Brentwood had the same attitude through the team that one player had, they were sunk. Certainly, the hosts seemed up for it, from the gateman, to the secretary, everyone I chatted to there. Nice clubhouse, too. Seats behind the goal as well. I'm one of those who like to be behind the goal rather than down the side. Result.
There was, of course, going to be a down side somewhere along the way. It was just too perfect a setting. Sure enough, a few minutes before kick-off, my view is blocked almost entirely by people leaning on the fencing around the pitch.
I have to stay in the seats, though, in order to compile and send my radio reports and web updates. I don't mind a bit, though. I rarely see more than 20 minutes of a game when fulfilling radio duties. I'm quite happy peering through gaps between people's heads or legs.
Someone behind me, though, isn't, and demands that a steward move the crowd. He's told that today is for everyone, not just him, and to move 25 people just so 1 person can see a corner flag is a tad unrealistic. The man harumphs and says "You don't get this at Stamford Bridge." You don't get much change out of a hundred quid to see multi-millionaires dive around like pricks either, though, but if you prefer that, f*** off back there.
The game kicks off, and within 74 seconds, my misgivings about Brentwood's possible attitude are realised. They stand around, waiting for the ref to make a decision. While they're doing that, Kirean Lavery bangs one in.
The game settles down and is fairly evenly balanced. Some of the kids that were watching get bored and start to have a kick-around behind the stand. Soon there's the unmistakable colossal banging sound of a ball being shot with venom against the back of it.
It enrages the people around me. Chortle. I love it. It lends an air of authenticity to the day. It feels like a real football day. All we're missing now is jumpers for goalposts.
There's no urgency from Brentwood and just before the break they pay the price. Nice through ball, and Chris Smith doubles South Park's lead. The locals are delighted. You can't help feeling pleased for them too. By now they don't want the half to end. There's almost a carnival feel to it.
The visitors make the most of the fact it did though. Within three minutes of the resumption, they're back in it. Alex Read, he's a handy little player. A throw in, a low header, and wallop, Brentwood are back in. It goes silent bar the few visiting supporters not so much celebrating as shouting at the side to get back on level terms.
The urgency quickens but still South Park break. A corner on the left. Brentwood defenders just trot back, assuming the keeper will deal with it or any chance will go wide. They're wrong. Twice over. If you give someone a free header in the six yard box you get what you deserve. There's 35 minutes or so left but the game's up.
'Wood pick up the urgency, get bodies in the box for set pieces, up the tempo. One of the subs comes over, urging his team mates. He then says something so very, very telling. "Wrong attitude. Too many with the wrong attitude." So it seems. That tweet obviously spoke for a fair few more than just the player who wrote it.
The last 20 minutes see Brentwood dominating with their harrying, but nothing clear-cut. You can see it in their body language. They were a beaten side as soon as that third goal went in. In fact, only the crossbar saved them from a real humiliation a few minutes after that.
The final whistle goes and there's an explosion of spontaneous happiness. People just don't know what to do. Laughing, clapping, cheering, and the look on their faces of "Is this really happening?". Just one game away from, possibly, a trip to the 2008 FA Cup winners, or maybe the 1988 winners. They might even get the 1988 League Cup winners and 1994 FA Cup semi-finalists in Monday's draw. For South Park, they can dare to dream.
Ostensibly, I was there to cover Brentwood Town, but I just couldn't help feeling delighted for South Park. I have a quick chat with their manager, Joe McEllliogott. He's like a kid at Christmas who knows he's got that Chopper bike he wanted just by the shape of the wrapped present at the bottom of the bed.
Joe shakes my hand and thanks me profusely. In the interests of fair play, I might have passed on the contents of 'that' tweet. But I couldn't possibly say. It seems, thought, that on top of everything else, I've now knocked a team out of the FA Cup. Bloody hell. Perhaps I should be a sports psychologist
He, and the club, are set for a memorable evening, and a very sore head for the rest of the weekend.
What a day.
South Park 3, Brentwood Town 1
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