It hadn't been a tough choice. Those times where either there wasn't a midweek match for Phoenix, or simply being too knackered to travel far, Rovers were easy to get to. More importantly, Brian would give me a lift.
He turned up with Ed in tow and both looked fairly chuffed with things when I chucked Brian's Broncos ball (try saying that after a few pints) through the window. He feared Broncos wouldn't be about much longer so wanted a souvenir. Can't get much better than one of the balls they used to demolish Salford.Anyway, tonight I was the opposition. My team were visiting Great Wakering Rovers. I thought it may take a miracle to beat them. But then, it was a miracle Basildon United were there at all. Having resigned from the ESL in March, it seemed like the end of the road.
But, by hook or by crook, debts had been sorted, and the Bees were back in business with a new manager. Who then resigned when he couldn't train on the pitch when he wanted so they got an old one.
I still remember the first game I saw Basildon United play fondly. An Essex Senior Cup tie against Heybridge Swifts. Settled with just 90 seconds left thanks to a thumping volley from what seemed like 400 yards. But hey, 1974 was big on overdoing it. I was hooked.Which was a bloody shame, because 38 years later, all that I had to show for it was seeing a couple of losing FA Vase quarter finals, Tony Currie sliding into me, and years of gloomy afternoons and evenings in dim and dingy surroundings. Living in Vange, though, that was luxury for me.
I didn't have high hopes. John Higley knew the ESL inside out, but the Bees had such a catastrophic 2011-12, avoiding bottom place was the only thing I hoped for this time round.
Brian, Ed, Nick (a young lad, foolishly being led astray by grumpy middle aged boys) and I got to the turnstiles. Apparently season ticket numbers were on the gate and you just gave them your secret number. My was a secret alright. I didn't bloody know it. Fortunately, there was a solution. I just said I had a season ticket. I was let through without a murmur. Maybe my face is more honest looking than I am.
It was good to see Richard Mann there. A funny guy. You have to have a sense of humour to do as much for the Bees as he has done. There was a semblance of away support too. Double figures, a figure that failed to be reached at the odd home game last season. A mean looking physio too. He looked as if he'd break your legs if you went down injured. We settled down for the game. And so did the Bees. Certainly having the better of it, and Bertie Brayley (a man who's had more clubs than a Canadian on a seal hunt) missing a glorious chance, shooting against the keeper and stumbling over when clean through. The teams went off with plenty to think about for the hosts, especially some of the crowd when that physio started having 'words' with them.
It started that way in the second. That George Akpele was obviously a decent player but the left back was obviously blowing out of his backside already. I looked around, and some of the other Bees players were doing likewise. I started to fear the worse.
But hey, guess what? Yep, the bastards ran out of steam. Crash. Rovers piled forward, chased a lost cause at the bye line, then clump. Foul. Penalty. Jimmy Webb. 1-0 to Rovers. I might be a season ticket holder (with the invisible secret number) but still - you bastards.
We filed off home. Brian, Ed and Nick were happy with the goals, happy with the points, and happy with the level of performances. Both teams had played better than some Ryman League sides we saw last term.
Me? I was just happy there was a Basildon United to watch. And disappointed those bastard Rovers beat them
Great Wakering Rovers 3, Basildon United 0.
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