Rob, It's Nothing Personal, But...

The last night game of the season – the last one I can make, anyway – and the clans are gathering in the Old Mitre in Barnet. Chris Turner, who’s bringing along his mate Danny the Fulham fan who we last saw in the Fat Cat before they played Wednesday in the FA Cup, and my brother are already there, and we’re eventually joined by a mob including Jenny, Rob Maxfield, Tim (who caught the bus and was making really good time until it decided to spend around twenty minutes trundling round a nearby housing estate) and both Kirklands, John literally just having got back in the country from a work trip. The last time we were in this pub, it had gone off a little both in terms of beer and atmosphere, but a new landlord seems to have got it back into shape. We’re having a pleasant time, but there’s this nagging feeling that it won’t last. You see, I’ve never seen us win at Underhill. The day we famously put five past them I was on holiday, and since then it’s just been a sequence of uninspiring draws or, more usually, defeats. Conversely, I’ve never seen us lose at Brisbane Road, but as Orient are currently in the division above us and the only time we get to visit the ground is for the Piglet beer festivals held at their supporters’ club, that’s no consolation.
What makes me think this isn’t going to change is that I took the call from Rob Elston at Luton last week where he was asking about ticketing arrangements, and Rob is, officially, the London Millers’ jinx. I’d ask him when he last saw a Rotherham victory, but I doubt he can remember that far back...
Despite the fact Rotherham announced they wouldn’t be running a supporters’ coach for this game, there’s one of Gordon’s finest parked by the away end. This probably has something to do with the fact that owing to our recent good form, if we win tonight, it will be a record sixth away victory in a row.
In the ground, we bump into a couple of familiar faces, including Steve Ducker and Steve Exley. The latter is rather annoyed that away fans can get concessions if they sit in the newly-built stand, which is about the size of most people’s front room, but not on the terrace, so he’s standing and Kiran is sitting. It’s obviously also the week for spotting players’ relatives. I look twice az a bloke who looks remarkably like someone I used to work with walks past only to realise that he has to be Nick Fenton’s brother. I often wonder whether the wife of a famous surgeon would watch him perform a heart bypass operation, or an accountant’s brother would shout encouragement as he went through a year-end audit, but it only seems to be sport where your family is routinely expected to turn up and supprt you as you do your job...
The game itself is not especially memorable. The fixture backlog looks to be finally taking a toll on the Rotherham players; this is the third trip south in the space of a week, and they give them impression they’re a little jaded. Reuben Reid, having been voted League Two’s player of the month, never looks like scoring, but although Barnet have the advantage of the slope, they’re not exactly making the most of it, either. Whoever scores first tonight will win, and unfortunately it’s Barnet when Paul Furlong, 75, outmuscles his marker and slots the ball past Don. His second goal is almost a repeat of the first. Thank you very much and goodnight. We really shouldn’t blame anyone for our rather limp display, but Rob, I’m looking in your direction. Perhaps when we play Barnet next season you could go watch your son do some of his rather excellent stand-up, or wash your hair, or something!
On the Northern Line back into London, Jenny and Chris T decide to go for a swift drink, but I decline to join them. I need my sleep just as much as, based on that performance, some of the players do, though at least unlike them I haven’t got a three-hour coach trip before I can hit the sack...