A Pot of Gold Somewhere Just Outside Oadby

For once, Ted isn’t off at the crack of doom, as he’s only travelling to Luton today. He takes the tube in with me, and though we leave in good time, it looks like things might go horribly wrong when there’s a signal failure in the Kings Cross area. Luckily, it doesn’t hold us up too badly and we get to St Pancras to he can wave off the travelling London Millers contingent – with more than two fingers, you’ll be relieved to hear.

On the trip for our first meeting with Dagenham since that fateful day at Wembley Jenny, Steve Ducker, Chris Turner, Clarkey and myself. The train is pretty packed, and then the women on the table behind us start unwrapping an array of samosas, cakes and other home-made goodies, Chris wonders if he should recruit them to do the catering for our next Christmas trip. Things get even busier at Leicester, as hordes of fans pile on, en route to their game at Barnsley. Gail and Graham manage to squeeze on at Derby. Trackside problems between there and Long Eaton slow us down, but don’t cut into our valuable drinking time too badly.

It’s very windy when we pitch up at the DVS, making us wonder how good a game we’re going to get. The Brinsworth Club Millers (‘me and our lass’, as he always introduces them to the stewards), and we swap banter about getting our respective flags on TV at Swindon. There’s just time to have the annual conversation with Steve Exley about how it costs him a fortune now Kiran’s in adult-size replica shirts (though that’s pretty much been the case since he was 12!) and then it’s into the fray.

Dagenham have lost the likes of Paul Benson and Danny Green since we last played them, and Tony Roberts looks to have finally hung up his goalkeeping gloves. We shall miss him and his rubbish forward rolls...

We start in lively fashion, and take the lead when Marcus Marshall puts in a cross. Alex Revell tries to get on the end of it, gets a whack from a defender for his pains, but Lewis Grabban slots in the loose ball. Instead of pressing on, we sit back, and get punished for it when Dagenham equalise. Scott doe heads in a corner, and though Dale Tonge tries to keep it out, he only succeeds in nodding it further into the net.

There aren’t many Dagenham fans – Clarkey says later he started counting them but got distracted by something (possibly in a small dress, going by past form...) - but they’re quite lively, twice bursting into a chorus of ‘Cheer up, Stevie Evans.’ Of course, their distaste for the Crawley manager is well known, dating back to all the antics when Evans’ Boston got promoted ahead of Dagenham, before certain financial irregularities came to light.

We quiet them a little by getting two more goals before half-time. Grabban scores the first of these, getting a glancing header to another Marshall cross, though TV footage later suggests it was an own goal. There’s no doubt about his second, though, his shot coming after great persistence from Evans in the first place.

The significance of the anti-Evans chants becomes obvious when the half-time scores reveal Crawley are losing 2-0 to Morecambe. That’s good news for us, but better news is that the Broadsword schools six-a-side competition is back – still the best half-time entertainment anywhere, with Thornhill beating Greasebrough on penalties.

The second half is going to have to go some to match it, but after Tonge hits the crossbar from distance, we go into our shell again, seemingly content to defend the lead. Dagenham threaten to get a goal back, but the nearest they come is when they hit the bar. Their keeper makes a great save to deny Grabban his hat-trick, but people are now more interested in what’s happening at the Crawley game, where rumours that Morecambe have gone five-nil up, then added a sixth, are quickly confirmed.

The other result that seems to grab the imagination is Doncaster’s loss to Cardiff,, with murmurs of ‘Donny’s going down’ all round me as I go to collect the flag.

Jenny’s staying in Rotherham for the weekend, so I meet up with Gail and the boys at the tram stop and we go for a drink in the Old Queen’s Head. Clarkey suggests taking advantage of the flexible tickets to go back on a later train and check out the Rutland. Steve and I decline, but the others head off there.

The train's quieter than on the way up, but we have two people booked from Sheffield to Leicester in the seats next to us. I assume they’re going to be Foxes fans. Instead, we get a nice, middle-aged couple who enjoy their M&S salads and a glass of vino. So much for me and my preconceptions.

Yet again, there’s a spectacular rainbow in the sky as we approach Leicester. I wouldn’t be at al surprised if there’s a pot of gold somewhere just outside Oadby. It’s the perfect setting to digest the fishing reports in the Green ’Un, crowned by the tale of one angler who won a competition despite having had a pint of beer poured over his head in the week by a girl he dumped by text message. Apparently, there’s a silver lining to that story, too. It wasn’t his pint...