Manoeuvring through the lumbering herds of luggage on wheels at St Pancras, I get a call from Jenny to tell me the train we’re booked on is delayed, but thanks to our flexible football tickets we can get on the one which is scheduled to depart in five minutes. It’s the slow train, so it won’t make much difference to the time we arrive in Sheffield, but at least we won’t be stuck here waiting.
On board, we manage to grab seats, and find ourselves sitting by the poshest Brentford fans in Christendom, on their way up to Leeds. They’ve come well prepared with packed lunches, but the young boys in the party are already flagging by the time we get to Derby – and it’s going to be a long day for them...
For once, no one is joining us in the Fat Cat. Mr Kyte can’t make it to the game, and the Manchester posse are on a late train, so Jenny’s seeing them at the DVS to collect the raffle tickets they’ve sold in advance of next week’s draw.. In their absence, the pub fills up with what appears to be the entire population of Leicester. However, unlike the Forest fans and others earlier in the season, they’ve managed not to louse up the trams, so we’re at the ground in good time to meet the boys.
There was a thread on one of the Rotherham message boards in the week, asking who’s responsible for putting up the London Millers flag, and does it mean we’re somehow sitting in the posh seats? Sadly not, and we haven’t even had the excitement of finding a space to hoist the flag which isn’t occupied by the youth team for a while now.
When I get to my seat, the bloke from Thomas Rotherham College and his two boys aren’t there and a man with two girls is occupying their place. Apparently, the boys are among today’s mascots, so hopefully they’re having a good time.
Today is part of ‘Football For Heroes’ week, so the teams are led out by a guard of soldiers, a couple of whom will later do the half-time draw. Bradford are now under the management of Peter Taylor, so we’re expecting a dour, defensive performance like the one we got when he brought Wycombe here last season. He’s already made a few signings, and appears to be turning the Bantams into the patented big, physical team which is what’s thought to be needed to succeed in League Two. Certainly, they don’t have much in the way of skill, but the defence (including Matt Clarke, who I always reckoned Ted had a bit of a man crush on when he played for Darlo...) are quite adept at manhandling Alfie off the ball. This is the kind of game where we’d benefit from Drewe Broughton, who really doesn’t stand for that kind of nonsense, but he’s been farmed out to Lincoln. Ronnie tried to sign Mark McCammon (last seen taking on big Drewe in the ostentatious stretch-off at Gillingham...) in his place, but he was pinched from under his nose by Bradford, where he’s among today’s subs. We should go in ahead at half time, but the ball is cleared by the Bradford defence in a frantic goalmouth scramble before Gavin Gunning heads it against the bar.
In the corresponding game last season, Bradford had three shots and two went in. This time, they again score with a breakaway move which is just about their first attempt on goal. We press for an equaliser, but as with the first half the ball is saved or blocked about three times in the same attack. Then, in injury time, one of the Bradford players handles the ball in the area. Alfie calmly slots the resulting penalty, and that should be it. A hard-earned point. Unfortunately, Bradford promptly go down the other end and get a corner. Nick Fenton either slips or is pushed, giving the man he’s marking a free header. Two-one. The Bradford fans go absolutely berserk. Funny to think that a few years ago they were in the top division and now they’ve slithered down below Leeds and Huddersfield, to reach the point where they have to consider us their local rivals...
When Jenny and I are collecting the flag, a man wanders past who I’m sure I know from somewhere. He smiles at me, I smile back and as I clock the Bantams crest on his big, padded scout’s-type coat I realise it’s John Hendrie. Nice chap and all that, but at least I may have put a bit of spec on Bradford...
Outside the ground, Steve Exley is really going into one about how our display this afternoon means he won’t be going to Dagenham. I’m not taking things that personally, not while we’re still in the play-off places and Darlo are still bottom. It would make me seem a little spoilt.
We have time for a swift half in the Sheffield Tap, then get a train which isn’t half as busy as I was expecting. Either the Leicester fans sneaked out of Hillsborough to catch an earlier train because they were losing or they’re staying on for drinkies somewhere.
Back in London, we meet Ted in the Betjeman to commiserate over our results and generally put the world to rights. Just because you have to, you understand.
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