Films
We’ve been singing in the rain for what seems an eternity, but despite the Yellows’ game at Woking succumbing to an almost completely submerged pitch, today’s fixture against Wycombe at Bisham Abbey looks like going ahead as planned. It’s an early departure from Longlevens though, but despite the unsociable hour everyone reports on time and in remarkably enthusiastic mode, given the time of day (or night) at which the rendezvous takes place.
Mother Fieldhouse has selected a rather fetching bobble-less number from her ever-expanding millinery-only wardrobe to celebrate the cessation of the recent downpours, while Father Jones, despite failing to receive an ‘It’s time’ call from The Chairman, has donned his full coaches’ outfit, boots ‘n’ all. Father Ted is absent once more, this time citing a visit to the Stadio Olimpico as the reason for his no-show, where he’s doing a proper Italian Job minus Michael Caine and a trio of Mini Coopers.
We’re off at 7.12 and the singing’s started well before we reach the Elmbridge Road roundabout; it’s a somewhat repetitive chant to the vague melody of ‘My Old Man’s a Dustman’ (or ‘Refuse Collection Operative’ [RCO] as they’re now known), though unless you use the acronym, it doesn’t really fit the tune too well.
The early Saturday morning traffic is sparse and before Dougie May’s uttered his plaintive ‘How long to the services?’ query for the twelfth time, we’re pulling into RG30 for a 45-minute breakfast break and spot of pre-match nutrition. There’s a stunned eleven-person silence though on discovering the bars are down at Burger King and the search for alternative subsistence is far-reaching, from Costa to the right (Myatt & Friends), Gregg’s to the left (Fieldhouse & Friends) and WHS somewhere in between (Wasp on his Larry Lonely).
Coach Wilson has spent most of the journey thus far regaling Coach Stalley with the gory details of his adventures during his recent passage to India and subsequent stay in the western provinces of the sub-continent; the opulence of his 800 square metre hotel room complete with gold-plated taps, roof garden and ocean view, the ongoing problems encountered due to eating a ten-chilli vindaloo with basmati rice and kulcha naan for breakfast each morning and the unhelpful issues he’s now experiencing with his Gluteus Medius following those previously reported afternoon rides atop a bull elephant of questionable temperament.
Now he’s somehow managed to procure a full English, bacon roll, black Americano and creamy latte for just £10.21 from a café lady who, due to Moto’s recent spate of cost-cutting measures is employed as a jack of all trades – though judging by the shell in the fried egg and the miscalculation on the till, she’s probably also a master of none.
Appearing out of the ether in the service station foyer is the photographer, who heads straight to Gregg’s where, in addition to capturing Burgess, Vye and Caple posing incongruously at the pastry counter, he also films most of the customers in the ever-lengthening queue, only to realise he’s left his big red money-making machine at home and his entrepreneurially brilliant idea of flogging off the snaps at a tenner a time peters out to a downturned lip and a trio of ‘Crikey Me’s.’
Bisham Abbey is reached without further ado and Iron Man displays the nicer of his two nice sides by offering to carry the team kit bag, the lame coaches’ bag and his own kit bag from the bus to the pavilion, but he’s forced to unburden halfway there due to unforeseen problems with his girders.
After twice circumnavigating the pavilion, Coach Stalley reports that the changing rooms are inaccessible due to them all having key pads and jogs off to the nearby sports centre in an attempt to discover the combination. Almost immediately, the Wycombe manager appears, pushes open the door to Changing Room 4, informs everyone the pads have been disabled and hands us a key.
Despite the recent monsoons the pitch is immaculate, lined in red and absolutely huge, while Coach Stalley’s #FAWU59 contains, according to High Definition, ‘only a bit of skipping,’ though he immediately qualifies this with an additional, ‘a bit too much.’
Wycombe are in the ascendancy throughout the first quarter, due partly to the visitors passing regularly to their hosts who are wearing ‘Gloucester Black’ as a very clever ruse to gain more possession – and it works a treat for the first fifteen minutes or so. HD thwarts an early breakaway with a fine one-on-one save and four minutes later the city team take the lead, somewhat against the run of play, when Burgess sets up Obieri to finish well into the bottom corner.
Almost immediately High Definition’s in action again, but following Slider’s assist, Obieri thumps home number two and for a single fleeting minute, it feels like a wonderful life. Exactly 202 seconds later, having been upended just outside the box, the city striker claims the assist for Gloucester’s third as Burgess arrows the resulting free kick into the top corner and the momentary wonderful life has just got one notch better.
The strike stuns the sixteen-strong home ‘crowd’, but delights the Gloucester contingent which initially numbers a nice round five. There’s Father Vye in his twenty shades of blue bobble, Mother Daniels in her GPSFA yellow & black ‘game-day’ outfit, Captain Scott Daniels in full polar dress minus the skis, Father Hundred Per Cent Burgess with foot on fence and phone in hand and Father May, whose sky blue 60s polo and non-matching builders’ boots are the envy of one and all.
By half time however, the away contingent has increased to six, due to the late-ish arrival of Father Myatt, who claims to have been unaware of the brought-forward kick-off time. Word on the street though is that less than twelve hours previously, the landlord announced a late-night lock-in at the Red Lion, no fancy dress required. Unaware of kick-off time or feeling the early-morning effects of a late-night lock-in? You do the maths.
Also present, on a tinker taylor soldier spying mission for Chiltern & South Bucks SFA, is a Bielsa-like figure, who’s lurking pitchside in an attempt to study the technicalities of Mother Brown’s line dance routine before reporting back in preparation for the rescheduled fixture at the beginning of April. Closer inspection reveals it’s the legendary Paul Sutton who was the C & SB team manager for many years, in between climbing previously unscaled Himalayan peaks, riding alongside polar bears on rapidly melting ice floes in the Arctic Ocean and traversing the Sahara Desert with only the following week’s team sheet for company. He never rode a bull elephant though.
The onset of the second period sees the wind change direction and with the prevailing conditions at their backs, the home side continue to press forward. Iron Man, Mother Brown and Slider however are resolute at the rear, May and Burgess indefatigable in midfield and Jones a hard-working presence in front of the back three, while High Definition is once again, simply that.
Obieri limps off eight minutes after the resumption and gives the order for The Buzzer to return to the fray. ‘Run Wasp, Run,’ orders the new manager, but Vespula Vulgaris, despite repeated efforts to get within ten yards of the bright orange sphere, manages to touch it just the once. Suddenly, left back seems all the rage.
Ten minutes from time and while Coach Stalley is administering another bout of ‘First Ade’ to Obieri, who is chomping at the proverbial bit to get back on the right side of the big red line, Wycombe reduce the arrears with the assistance of a deflection from Jones’s right (but thankfully black) boot. ‘Can I add that to my season’s tally?’ is the midfielder’s (almost) immediate response.
Despite all their possession, the hosts conjure just one further direct effort on goal, HD tipping Sykes’s effort over the bar and another hard-working and disciplined display sees the points about to head back up the M4 to Gloucester.
Myatt claims to be unable to carry the drinks container due to his recent groin injury, Father Vye attempts to get hold of a match programme without paying a single dime and Bielsa nips over for a chat about ‘Antarctica and all that’ with Father Captain Scott Daniels, before disappearing through a hole in the hedge, biro behind ear and scouting report in hand. One eagle-eyed observer notices that Mother Brown’s name has been meticulously underlined in bright red (twice).
There’s post-match hot dogs and pizza and a remarkably popular hot chocolate vending machine button in the nicely appointed leisure centre café area and a souvenir photo outside the abbey itself to help the digestive process straight afterwards. It’s picture perfect in all respects.
The dulcet tones of the Refuse Collection Operative song are replaced by an all-in ‘We Love You Services, we do’ (repeat) as Membury comes into view and Myatt heads for the nearest available toilet which just happens to be the ladies. The Lens takes his usual service station team photos, which on this occasion feature Mother Brown and May, amongst others, pretending to drive a toy car which is intended for use by four-year-olds. No further comment required. High Definition and Obieri roll their eyes and head up the escalator in the general direction of KFC and BK respectively, while The Photographer temporarily soothes his hunger pangs with a regular portion of Harry Ramsden’s chips, a slice of seven-day old bread & butter and five rather greasy onion rings. Coach Wilson takes one look, emits a contemptuous sneer, munches the piece of chocolate cake he’s just bought from Starbucks and completely ignores the Lens’s repeated offerings of one of HR’s finest chips (or two for a fiver).
Back in the bus and the Gloucester City twitter account reveals the afternoon’s scheduled fixture against high-flying Concord Rangers has been postponed due to the Hartwell & Spiers being waterlogged, which is great news as that, following last week’s postponement at Slough Town they are now unbeaten for three weeks, easily their best run of the season. Que sera sera.
Father Ted’s next non-appearance ruse is just over twenty four hours away, his Sunday evening flight from Rome to Gatwick via Paris will fail to leave on time, meaning he’ll miss his French connection and probably the earlier part of next Saturday as well. Kelly meanwhile, Home Alone and having a whale of a time, plonks her Fiat Uno in the uno available mini bus parking spot at GL2 as the thrill of almost complete independence fully kicks in, rendering her subliminally oblivious to the twelve pairs of staring eyes and dozen shaking bobble hats in the assembled throng.
Coach Harris messages in from his Alpine skiing resort at Nid de Guepes, though his billet is at the opposite end of the luxury spectrum to that frequented over Christmas by Vespula Vulgaris and family. Attempting to switch on the single paraffin heater and plug the numerous gaps in the single window frame and under the door all at the same time, he asks that the forthcoming Quiz Night receives a more effective plug than his non-responding draft excluders are providing. So here it is. As a Bamber Gascoigne (starter for ten), can you find ten film or TV titles hidden in the words you’ve just read? Answers on the back of a second class stamp please. See you at Old Richians.
Gloucester: High Definition; Slider, Iron Man, Wasp; Issur Danielovitch, El Capitano, Lawrence Titus Oates, Lettuce; Beamer; Mother Brown, WC.
Mother Fieldhouse has selected a rather fetching bobble-less number from her ever-expanding millinery-only wardrobe to celebrate the cessation of the recent downpours, while Father Jones, despite failing to receive an ‘It’s time’ call from The Chairman, has donned his full coaches’ outfit, boots ‘n’ all. Father Ted is absent once more, this time citing a visit to the Stadio Olimpico as the reason for his no-show, where he’s doing a proper Italian Job minus Michael Caine and a trio of Mini Coopers.
We’re off at 7.12 and the singing’s started well before we reach the Elmbridge Road roundabout; it’s a somewhat repetitive chant to the vague melody of ‘My Old Man’s a Dustman’ (or ‘Refuse Collection Operative’ [RCO] as they’re now known), though unless you use the acronym, it doesn’t really fit the tune too well.
The early Saturday morning traffic is sparse and before Dougie May’s uttered his plaintive ‘How long to the services?’ query for the twelfth time, we’re pulling into RG30 for a 45-minute breakfast break and spot of pre-match nutrition. There’s a stunned eleven-person silence though on discovering the bars are down at Burger King and the search for alternative subsistence is far-reaching, from Costa to the right (Myatt & Friends), Gregg’s to the left (Fieldhouse & Friends) and WHS somewhere in between (Wasp on his Larry Lonely).
Coach Wilson has spent most of the journey thus far regaling Coach Stalley with the gory details of his adventures during his recent passage to India and subsequent stay in the western provinces of the sub-continent; the opulence of his 800 square metre hotel room complete with gold-plated taps, roof garden and ocean view, the ongoing problems encountered due to eating a ten-chilli vindaloo with basmati rice and kulcha naan for breakfast each morning and the unhelpful issues he’s now experiencing with his Gluteus Medius following those previously reported afternoon rides atop a bull elephant of questionable temperament.
Now he’s somehow managed to procure a full English, bacon roll, black Americano and creamy latte for just £10.21 from a café lady who, due to Moto’s recent spate of cost-cutting measures is employed as a jack of all trades – though judging by the shell in the fried egg and the miscalculation on the till, she’s probably also a master of none.
Appearing out of the ether in the service station foyer is the photographer, who heads straight to Gregg’s where, in addition to capturing Burgess, Vye and Caple posing incongruously at the pastry counter, he also films most of the customers in the ever-lengthening queue, only to realise he’s left his big red money-making machine at home and his entrepreneurially brilliant idea of flogging off the snaps at a tenner a time peters out to a downturned lip and a trio of ‘Crikey Me’s.’
Bisham Abbey is reached without further ado and Iron Man displays the nicer of his two nice sides by offering to carry the team kit bag, the lame coaches’ bag and his own kit bag from the bus to the pavilion, but he’s forced to unburden halfway there due to unforeseen problems with his girders.
After twice circumnavigating the pavilion, Coach Stalley reports that the changing rooms are inaccessible due to them all having key pads and jogs off to the nearby sports centre in an attempt to discover the combination. Almost immediately, the Wycombe manager appears, pushes open the door to Changing Room 4, informs everyone the pads have been disabled and hands us a key.
Despite the recent monsoons the pitch is immaculate, lined in red and absolutely huge, while Coach Stalley’s #FAWU59 contains, according to High Definition, ‘only a bit of skipping,’ though he immediately qualifies this with an additional, ‘a bit too much.’
Wycombe are in the ascendancy throughout the first quarter, due partly to the visitors passing regularly to their hosts who are wearing ‘Gloucester Black’ as a very clever ruse to gain more possession – and it works a treat for the first fifteen minutes or so. HD thwarts an early breakaway with a fine one-on-one save and four minutes later the city team take the lead, somewhat against the run of play, when Burgess sets up Obieri to finish well into the bottom corner.
Almost immediately High Definition’s in action again, but following Slider’s assist, Obieri thumps home number two and for a single fleeting minute, it feels like a wonderful life. Exactly 202 seconds later, having been upended just outside the box, the city striker claims the assist for Gloucester’s third as Burgess arrows the resulting free kick into the top corner and the momentary wonderful life has just got one notch better.
The strike stuns the sixteen-strong home ‘crowd’, but delights the Gloucester contingent which initially numbers a nice round five. There’s Father Vye in his twenty shades of blue bobble, Mother Daniels in her GPSFA yellow & black ‘game-day’ outfit, Captain Scott Daniels in full polar dress minus the skis, Father Hundred Per Cent Burgess with foot on fence and phone in hand and Father May, whose sky blue 60s polo and non-matching builders’ boots are the envy of one and all.
By half time however, the away contingent has increased to six, due to the late-ish arrival of Father Myatt, who claims to have been unaware of the brought-forward kick-off time. Word on the street though is that less than twelve hours previously, the landlord announced a late-night lock-in at the Red Lion, no fancy dress required. Unaware of kick-off time or feeling the early-morning effects of a late-night lock-in? You do the maths.
Also present, on a tinker taylor soldier spying mission for Chiltern & South Bucks SFA, is a Bielsa-like figure, who’s lurking pitchside in an attempt to study the technicalities of Mother Brown’s line dance routine before reporting back in preparation for the rescheduled fixture at the beginning of April. Closer inspection reveals it’s the legendary Paul Sutton who was the C & SB team manager for many years, in between climbing previously unscaled Himalayan peaks, riding alongside polar bears on rapidly melting ice floes in the Arctic Ocean and traversing the Sahara Desert with only the following week’s team sheet for company. He never rode a bull elephant though.
The onset of the second period sees the wind change direction and with the prevailing conditions at their backs, the home side continue to press forward. Iron Man, Mother Brown and Slider however are resolute at the rear, May and Burgess indefatigable in midfield and Jones a hard-working presence in front of the back three, while High Definition is once again, simply that.
Obieri limps off eight minutes after the resumption and gives the order for The Buzzer to return to the fray. ‘Run Wasp, Run,’ orders the new manager, but Vespula Vulgaris, despite repeated efforts to get within ten yards of the bright orange sphere, manages to touch it just the once. Suddenly, left back seems all the rage.
Ten minutes from time and while Coach Stalley is administering another bout of ‘First Ade’ to Obieri, who is chomping at the proverbial bit to get back on the right side of the big red line, Wycombe reduce the arrears with the assistance of a deflection from Jones’s right (but thankfully black) boot. ‘Can I add that to my season’s tally?’ is the midfielder’s (almost) immediate response.
Despite all their possession, the hosts conjure just one further direct effort on goal, HD tipping Sykes’s effort over the bar and another hard-working and disciplined display sees the points about to head back up the M4 to Gloucester.
Myatt claims to be unable to carry the drinks container due to his recent groin injury, Father Vye attempts to get hold of a match programme without paying a single dime and Bielsa nips over for a chat about ‘Antarctica and all that’ with Father Captain Scott Daniels, before disappearing through a hole in the hedge, biro behind ear and scouting report in hand. One eagle-eyed observer notices that Mother Brown’s name has been meticulously underlined in bright red (twice).
There’s post-match hot dogs and pizza and a remarkably popular hot chocolate vending machine button in the nicely appointed leisure centre café area and a souvenir photo outside the abbey itself to help the digestive process straight afterwards. It’s picture perfect in all respects.
The dulcet tones of the Refuse Collection Operative song are replaced by an all-in ‘We Love You Services, we do’ (repeat) as Membury comes into view and Myatt heads for the nearest available toilet which just happens to be the ladies. The Lens takes his usual service station team photos, which on this occasion feature Mother Brown and May, amongst others, pretending to drive a toy car which is intended for use by four-year-olds. No further comment required. High Definition and Obieri roll their eyes and head up the escalator in the general direction of KFC and BK respectively, while The Photographer temporarily soothes his hunger pangs with a regular portion of Harry Ramsden’s chips, a slice of seven-day old bread & butter and five rather greasy onion rings. Coach Wilson takes one look, emits a contemptuous sneer, munches the piece of chocolate cake he’s just bought from Starbucks and completely ignores the Lens’s repeated offerings of one of HR’s finest chips (or two for a fiver).
Back in the bus and the Gloucester City twitter account reveals the afternoon’s scheduled fixture against high-flying Concord Rangers has been postponed due to the Hartwell & Spiers being waterlogged, which is great news as that, following last week’s postponement at Slough Town they are now unbeaten for three weeks, easily their best run of the season. Que sera sera.
Father Ted’s next non-appearance ruse is just over twenty four hours away, his Sunday evening flight from Rome to Gatwick via Paris will fail to leave on time, meaning he’ll miss his French connection and probably the earlier part of next Saturday as well. Kelly meanwhile, Home Alone and having a whale of a time, plonks her Fiat Uno in the uno available mini bus parking spot at GL2 as the thrill of almost complete independence fully kicks in, rendering her subliminally oblivious to the twelve pairs of staring eyes and dozen shaking bobble hats in the assembled throng.
Coach Harris messages in from his Alpine skiing resort at Nid de Guepes, though his billet is at the opposite end of the luxury spectrum to that frequented over Christmas by Vespula Vulgaris and family. Attempting to switch on the single paraffin heater and plug the numerous gaps in the single window frame and under the door all at the same time, he asks that the forthcoming Quiz Night receives a more effective plug than his non-responding draft excluders are providing. So here it is. As a Bamber Gascoigne (starter for ten), can you find ten film or TV titles hidden in the words you’ve just read? Answers on the back of a second class stamp please. See you at Old Richians.
Gloucester: High Definition; Slider, Iron Man, Wasp; Issur Danielovitch, El Capitano, Lawrence Titus Oates, Lettuce; Beamer; Mother Brown, WC.
