I’m writing the first part of this Tournament report without the benefit or re-course to the video footage, and simply based on my re-collection (and imagination). I’m also dealing with my cut left thumb which in console gaming terms is the equivalent of an amputation; a general knackedness; and a bruised right leg that is limp-inducing. The photos can be clicked for a larger view.Friday morning, and it was an early start for many of the squad. Steve won the prize for his 5am start to make it down to the Town Quay pick-up, where he would be joined by Matt, Alan, and honorary ‘Molly’ Alex, who’d successfully made it across from the Island on time, despite Matt’s best efforts not to remember to inform him of any details for the day.
They would make the short drive up to London Road, in the Service’s equivalent of the Millennium Falcon, a commandeered “what a heap of junk” minibus, where they were meeting up with Leo and Robbie, eating their bacon and sausage rolls, and drinking cheap-ass coffee. Robbie volunteered to take first shift on the stick, tasked with getting us to the Chiswick Ground in good time, with Matt, in the passenger seat, as navigator. How we didn’t end up driving into the Thames is a grateful mystery.
It had been hoped that Don may be able to squeeze a cheerleading trip into his busy retirement schedule of shopping and cooking, but instead we had to be our own support in the battle against other ‘Justice’ professionals.
Along the motorway up, there was the usual integrity bankrupt music oozing off the radio, and plenty of banter, taking in everything from a briefing of the actual rules of the tournament, to confirmation of the Island’s inbreeding programme. The X-Files theme tune also made its first of many appearances.
Steve’s sat-nav saw the good A.I. to lose it’s charge, just after we completed the easy part of getting off the motorway, and surprisingly there was no means of re-charging an electronic device, in a van with no air-con, no CD player, and enough foam ripped out of the seats to start your own Build-A-Bear workshop. It did reveal Steve’s sat-nav holder to have an Asian persuasion, but Matt remained focused enough to display sufficient map-reading skills to get us to the ground, but only after a scenic detour around a nearby lake, and a snoop at the posh Riverside spa and gym.
We arrived in good time with an hour and a half till our first match at 10:30am, which allowed us to get acclimatised with our surroundings, a good squizz at the pitches, the size of them, the size of the goals, the lack of noticeable grass, the windy conditions. But first a trip to the loos for an exorcism of the demon bowels. And this not being an American Pie movie, no footage of this pre-match ritual is available, despite the possibility of 2 Guys and A (Football) Cup.
