It was a tired way to start the weekend. I'm getting too old for staying out past midnight. There's another one to come though. Wedding on Sunday. Thankfully, though, not mine. It's half the reason why these occasions are so much fun. Everyone's relieved it's not them at the altar.
Before that, though, it was football day. And a conundrum. With so much going on with those close to me, from health to happiness, it was yet another weekend I couldn't stray away from home. I was due to cover Bromley v Billericay but that was now out of the window.
Bri picked me up, fresh from Celtic going back on top of the SPL thanks to their win at Aberdeen. That wouldn't last though. Hibs were at Dundee. But would Rovers tenure at the top of the ESL? Frankly, though, much as I like the people and players at the club, and even though I have a season ticket there, I didn't really care.
That's the Rovers for me. I enjoy the afternoons and evenings at the match there, it's full of good people, but somehow I can't muster enough enthusiasm to be bothered if they win or not. Their nowt queer as folk. Especially football folk.
Normally, on live match duty, my focus is the game I'm watching and hardly anything else. This afternoon, though, even if Rovers and Sports are doing battle in front of me, my main concentration would be the twitter feeds, colleagues texts, and other websites, scanning for info on at least five other games.
In the second half, I saw more. Only because a referee, this time being assessed, again decided to be the centre of attention. At least he wasn't biased. His ridiculous decision were being made against both teams. When it gets to the stage when Great Wakering Rovers players and supporters were telling the ref he had no reason to send off a Hullbridge player, you know something's wrong.
As we headed back towards the Bay, talk went from the rugby intenrnationals, to finance, to Catholic schools, and of course to what game was up next. A cosmopolitan lot us, even if we do look, sound and smell like a discarded KFC box. Though how we sound like a chicken box is anyone's guess.
Before that, though, it was football day. And a conundrum. With so much going on with those close to me, from health to happiness, it was yet another weekend I couldn't stray away from home. I was due to cover Bromley v Billericay but that was now out of the window.
Instead, it was, as usual, the Rovers, who were obligingly at home again. If I couldn't be at 'the' match, I could at least be at 'a' match and give the listeners a bit of at-the-match atmosphere as the scores from elsewhere rattled in.
Bri picked me up, fresh from Celtic going back on top of the SPL thanks to their win at Aberdeen. That wouldn't last though. Hibs were at Dundee. But would Rovers tenure at the top of the ESL? Frankly, though, much as I like the people and players at the club, and even though I have a season ticket there, I didn't really care.
That's how it goes with football. A club can get under your skin, be a part of you forever, even if you've only been to see them once. Yet you can go to another club a hundred times, which might be almost exactly the same, but somehow, it just doesn't feel the same.
That's the Rovers for me. I enjoy the afternoons and evenings at the match there, it's full of good people, but somehow I can't muster enough enthusiasm to be bothered if they win or not. Their nowt queer as folk. Especially football folk.
A local derby today. Hullbridge Sports would still be smarting from a cup match earlier this season. Absolutely pummelled Rovers in the first yet were losing 4-1. They will still be sore from that eventual 6-2 defeat. Great Wakering Rovers would have to be wary of them.
As the sides paraded in their green and white stripes and gaudy pink, I wondered if Mardi Gras UK was taking place here today. In the meantime, I was setting up the online Phoenix FM live updates for scores around the region and beyond. Even if the match was dull, I was mildly curious to see how much or little I'd see of the game in front of me.
Normally, on live match duty, my focus is the game I'm watching and hardly anything else. This afternoon, though, even if Rovers and Sports are doing battle in front of me, my main concentration would be the twitter feeds, colleagues texts, and other websites, scanning for info on at least five other games.
The answer, in the first half, was comfortably less than 10 minutes. I only looked up if I heard the crowd shout or roar at something, or take the occasional pic. Midway through the first half, I had to ask Bri how the match was going, if it was any good. From what I saw, it looked fairly even until Danny Heale put Rovers in front.
Soon after Hullbridge had a penalty. I'm pretty sure everyone in the ground, on and off the pitch, knew this would be the turning point in the game. 1-1 and confidence is lifted for the pink shirted players. Louis Godwin Green has other ideas though. It was indeed a turning point. But not one the visitors wanted.
Luckily, my radio endeavours were paying off. Every side in the Phoenix FM area were winning, two of them tricky away fixtures to boot. Things seem to be that much easier if the sides you're covering are doing well.
In between all that, Rovers got another couple of goals, and Hullbridge hit back with a second penalty, this time converted. It was the least they deserved in the circumstances. A good game ruined by someone on the pitch but not playing. Well, that's how it seemed in the 25 minutes or so I saw.
It had been a good day online though. All the area's side had won. With results from other Football League sides waiting to be filed, the lights went out around the ground as well as the floodlights. I filed the final scores in complete darkness. It seemed fitting, as I was in the dark as to how the game in front of me was going for the most part.
The football had ended but the weekend was just beginning. Wedding bells. Someone else's. Which means all I have to do is turn up, eat and drink.
And that, my friend, is easily the best result of the weekend.
Great Wakering Rovers 3, Hullbridge Sports 1
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