After all the wonders of the weekend in Auld Reekie, that old bugger Karma has kicked in again.
I thought it was bad enough having poor health yourself but at least you have a modicum of control. When it's those closest to you, though, and they're hundreds of miles away, a feeling of worry and helplessness envelopes you.
The next few weeks are going to be hard for some around me. I simply have to be there for them so I can see long hours time spent on train carriages or airline seats in the next few weeks making sure I am.
Before the 'Groyney's Florence Nightingale Tour' kicks in, though, as ever, one more game, more to take my mind off things for just a short while. I'd previously sorted out a trip to Dover, covering Billericay Town for the radio.
But after one longish journey home the day before, and another in the offing tomorrow, I was simply too knackered for a longish trek to an evening kick-off - and would perhaps be too far away should something happen elsewhere.
Luckily, Southend United came to the rescue. It was Essex Senior Cup night and in-form Burnham Ramblers were in town. 5th in the ESL, with games in hand on all those above them, and a thumping 5-0 win at Bethnal Green recently, Ramblers were on a roll. Without regular league action, the Shrimpers reserves were in for a tough night.
For Bri, Alfie and I, it had been tough from the start. A couple of turnstiles open. Which can't be operated with a steward's card. That doesn't work. And, of course, one turnstile for adults only, and one for kids only. Taking 10 minutes to admit three people sums up how Southend United are being run fairly succinctly at the moment.
Taking my seat after the conviviality of a drink in the Far Post, I spy a referee's assessor queueing for a burger. He glares at me but says nothing. It stems back from last year, when he was amongst the officials that gave one team a goal kick. It was actually a goal for the other side and hit the back of the net. He didn't like that being pointed out at the time one iota.
He continues to glare and not say anything, but frankly, I couldn't give a toss. If he tries to say something smart or derogatory, I'll simply smack him. I'm in no mood for having to deal with grown men that sulk. Or who can't see a ball hitting the back of the net.
I take my seat. I say take it, I mean I take my standing position in the back row of the seats. The only stand open tonight, the East, is an old, wooden, uncomfortable place to be sat, with the leg room of an amputated bluebottle. I'm by no means the only one forced into that. It seems everyone over 5 foot 6 are either standing at the back or hanging on for as long as possible before sitting.
Next to me, in the East Blacks, are a healthy contingent from Burnham-on-Crouch, and a fair few more dotted around the other open sections. Very commendable. Except that the Ramblers average crowd numbers less than 50.
Even allowing for family and friends travelling to see their fella playing on a league ground, it leaves a lot who don't support Ramblers at all, really. If they got up off their backsides and went to Leslie Field a bit more often, maybe Ramblers could sustain a Ryman League side rather than occasional trips to Football League reserve teams being their big moment.
I know that, so far, this has been a fairly grumpy review of the night. Believe it or not, though, I actually enjoyed being out and at the game. Especially when play started. Within 30 seconds, Ramblers strove forward down the right, unchallenged, and Charlie Kirby whacks it in comfortably from the edge of the six yard box.
Before the visiting supporters celebrations have died down, Southend United go forward themselves, and loanee Jonson Clarke-Harris equalises. Not that I saw it, mind. Of course. But three minutes in and already 1-1. Game on. Properly.
Soon after, there's a free kick, and David Phillips puts the home side in front. Was I watching? Yeah, rightio. Ramblers reply is swift and effective. An obvious foul, a penalty, slotted away with no bother at all. Midway through the first half and it's 2-2.
I've picked a good 'un tonight. Especially in view of the news coming through that Billericay Town's match at Dover Athletic has been abandoned due to floodlight failure. I look skywards for a brief second. Karma has saved me a longish trip ahead of the longer ones in the pipeline.
Both teams go off to generous applause. We check up the other results. Brentwood beating Lewes in the FA Trophy. Blimey. Celtic are cruising in the League Cup. And in the English version, Arsenal are being humiliated at Reading. Chortle.
The second half wears on, fairly evenly balanced, and Southend keeper Daniel Bentley is forced into a couple of decent saves. The Burnham fans to my left have been loud and supportive up until now but are now becoming cocky.
One hefty guy shouts loudly about their being no pies, burgers or hot dogs at half time. It's just as well judging by his size. Their shouts of support are now becoming shouts of abuse directed towards the opposition. There's a fine line between banter and being a pain in the arse and they have crossed it.
As has the referee. It's noticeable that any remotely 50/50 decisions, and maybe some 40/60, are being given in favour of the side in red shirts. A Southend player commits an innocuous foul, way out on the touchline, just inside the Burnham half. The ref simply couldn't wait to brandish his yellow card. The home dugout are understandably upset. A terrible officiating performance, bordering on bias.
Add all this together, and from looking forward to just seeing a decent game, I've now swapped over. I'm willing Southend to win this and don't care how. With time ticking by, penalties loom. No extra time tonight. This is me at a game, though, so I stand back and chill in the chill, safe in the knowledge that something out of the ordinary will still happen.
It comes from someone who has a point to prove. Johnson Clarke-Harris is at Roots Hall on loan, he wants to show that he's worthy of a first team place anywhere. The ball reaches him over 30 yards out. He shoots with a mix of power and precision. Or maybe it was a lucky wallop. Whatever it was, keeper Jack Parr hasn't a chance. 3-2 to Southend.
Ramblers throw the kitchen sink at Southend. Daniel Bentley is forced into a wonderful save in injury time to deny the equaliser. A corner. One last throw of the dice for Burnham. The keeper pushes up. The corner hits the far post. The header goes in. It looks a certain goal.
But Daniel Bentley again somehow keeps the ball out. Ramblers are now in trouble as Southend surge forward and then switch flanks. Jack Paxman approaches the Burnham penalty area and puts it into an empty net. That's what you call a counter attack. Game over.
Soon, the final whistle goes. Despite the sluggish start, despite the terrible refereeing, the Southend kids have come through. A tough test it did indeed prove to be. Burnham Ramblers did themselves proud tonight. I hope the team push on for the ESL title and the supporters who turned up tonight actually support their team in greater numbers at Leslie Field. They deserve it.
We make our way out an onwards to home. Bri falls into conversation with that referee's assessor. It's clear that there's a marked difference of opinion. Mistakes, the assessor says, have to be put into context with age, which is true enough. But to say he had an excellent game was ridiculous.
Refs will only stop making mistakes if they're pointed out to them in a clear, calm, concise manner. If, however, they are simply being given praise, and errors written off, as it looks like it may happen tonight, then the problem is clear. It's not the refs. It's the people that assess them.
We head off back to the Bay and put the radio on. Good night for cup upsets. Brentwood are through in the FA Trophy. Wigan are in trouble against Bradford. Arsenal have pulled it back to 4-3, then amazingly, rescue it at 4-4, seconds after the commentator had virtually sacked Wenger.
Some Arsenal players throw their shirts to the crowd, not realising there's extra time, and have to ask for them back. Disproving the myth that they're not thick. Chortle.
As for me, I was just pleased for the evening out. After all, none of us know what's around the corner.
Southend United 4, Burnham Ramblers 2
I thought it was bad enough having poor health yourself but at least you have a modicum of control. When it's those closest to you, though, and they're hundreds of miles away, a feeling of worry and helplessness envelopes you.
The next few weeks are going to be hard for some around me. I simply have to be there for them so I can see long hours time spent on train carriages or airline seats in the next few weeks making sure I am.Before the 'Groyney's Florence Nightingale Tour' kicks in, though, as ever, one more game, more to take my mind off things for just a short while. I'd previously sorted out a trip to Dover, covering Billericay Town for the radio.
But after one longish journey home the day before, and another in the offing tomorrow, I was simply too knackered for a longish trek to an evening kick-off - and would perhaps be too far away should something happen elsewhere.
Luckily, Southend United came to the rescue. It was Essex Senior Cup night and in-form Burnham Ramblers were in town. 5th in the ESL, with games in hand on all those above them, and a thumping 5-0 win at Bethnal Green recently, Ramblers were on a roll. Without regular league action, the Shrimpers reserves were in for a tough night.
For Bri, Alfie and I, it had been tough from the start. A couple of turnstiles open. Which can't be operated with a steward's card. That doesn't work. And, of course, one turnstile for adults only, and one for kids only. Taking 10 minutes to admit three people sums up how Southend United are being run fairly succinctly at the moment.Taking my seat after the conviviality of a drink in the Far Post, I spy a referee's assessor queueing for a burger. He glares at me but says nothing. It stems back from last year, when he was amongst the officials that gave one team a goal kick. It was actually a goal for the other side and hit the back of the net. He didn't like that being pointed out at the time one iota.
He continues to glare and not say anything, but frankly, I couldn't give a toss. If he tries to say something smart or derogatory, I'll simply smack him. I'm in no mood for having to deal with grown men that sulk. Or who can't see a ball hitting the back of the net.
I take my seat. I say take it, I mean I take my standing position in the back row of the seats. The only stand open tonight, the East, is an old, wooden, uncomfortable place to be sat, with the leg room of an amputated bluebottle. I'm by no means the only one forced into that. It seems everyone over 5 foot 6 are either standing at the back or hanging on for as long as possible before sitting.Next to me, in the East Blacks, are a healthy contingent from Burnham-on-Crouch, and a fair few more dotted around the other open sections. Very commendable. Except that the Ramblers average crowd numbers less than 50.
Even allowing for family and friends travelling to see their fella playing on a league ground, it leaves a lot who don't support Ramblers at all, really. If they got up off their backsides and went to Leslie Field a bit more often, maybe Ramblers could sustain a Ryman League side rather than occasional trips to Football League reserve teams being their big moment.
I know that, so far, this has been a fairly grumpy review of the night. Believe it or not, though, I actually enjoyed being out and at the game. Especially when play started. Within 30 seconds, Ramblers strove forward down the right, unchallenged, and Charlie Kirby whacks it in comfortably from the edge of the six yard box. Before the visiting supporters celebrations have died down, Southend United go forward themselves, and loanee Jonson Clarke-Harris equalises. Not that I saw it, mind. Of course. But three minutes in and already 1-1. Game on. Properly.
Soon after, there's a free kick, and David Phillips puts the home side in front. Was I watching? Yeah, rightio. Ramblers reply is swift and effective. An obvious foul, a penalty, slotted away with no bother at all. Midway through the first half and it's 2-2.
I've picked a good 'un tonight. Especially in view of the news coming through that Billericay Town's match at Dover Athletic has been abandoned due to floodlight failure. I look skywards for a brief second. Karma has saved me a longish trip ahead of the longer ones in the pipeline.
Both teams go off to generous applause. We check up the other results. Brentwood beating Lewes in the FA Trophy. Blimey. Celtic are cruising in the League Cup. And in the English version, Arsenal are being humiliated at Reading. Chortle.
One hefty guy shouts loudly about their being no pies, burgers or hot dogs at half time. It's just as well judging by his size. Their shouts of support are now becoming shouts of abuse directed towards the opposition. There's a fine line between banter and being a pain in the arse and they have crossed it.
As has the referee. It's noticeable that any remotely 50/50 decisions, and maybe some 40/60, are being given in favour of the side in red shirts. A Southend player commits an innocuous foul, way out on the touchline, just inside the Burnham half. The ref simply couldn't wait to brandish his yellow card. The home dugout are understandably upset. A terrible officiating performance, bordering on bias.
It comes from someone who has a point to prove. Johnson Clarke-Harris is at Roots Hall on loan, he wants to show that he's worthy of a first team place anywhere. The ball reaches him over 30 yards out. He shoots with a mix of power and precision. Or maybe it was a lucky wallop. Whatever it was, keeper Jack Parr hasn't a chance. 3-2 to Southend.
Ramblers throw the kitchen sink at Southend. Daniel Bentley is forced into a wonderful save in injury time to deny the equaliser. A corner. One last throw of the dice for Burnham. The keeper pushes up. The corner hits the far post. The header goes in. It looks a certain goal.
Soon, the final whistle goes. Despite the sluggish start, despite the terrible refereeing, the Southend kids have come through. A tough test it did indeed prove to be. Burnham Ramblers did themselves proud tonight. I hope the team push on for the ESL title and the supporters who turned up tonight actually support their team in greater numbers at Leslie Field. They deserve it.
We make our way out an onwards to home. Bri falls into conversation with that referee's assessor. It's clear that there's a marked difference of opinion. Mistakes, the assessor says, have to be put into context with age, which is true enough. But to say he had an excellent game was ridiculous.
We head off back to the Bay and put the radio on. Good night for cup upsets. Brentwood are through in the FA Trophy. Wigan are in trouble against Bradford. Arsenal have pulled it back to 4-3, then amazingly, rescue it at 4-4, seconds after the commentator had virtually sacked Wenger.
Some Arsenal players throw their shirts to the crowd, not realising there's extra time, and have to ask for them back. Disproving the myth that they're not thick. Chortle.
As for me, I was just pleased for the evening out. After all, none of us know what's around the corner.
Southend United 4, Burnham Ramblers 2
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