Quote: Chappers @ 17th March 2019, 8:24 PM
Was that your wind? You missed a brilliant turn around!
It was all very muddly. No trains in either direction at Wallington and it had taken nearly two hours to make the four miles to there. Then on some hopper - S4? - which went all round the houses, hospitals and Belmont. I jumped off at Overton Road and then walked it including the entire length of the Lane of Green Gander,
On my arrival, I asked where the refreshments places were and was directed to Johnny's or Rose's but no one really explained that there was a bar via a car park. Is that via the emergency exit gate? Anyhow I never found it. Nor did I find any toilets which was not the case earlier in the week at Loftus Road which barely has the room for anything else.
I still don't know what the Norwegian man meant by saying he was surprised the roll of honour didn't include Toffitt. It doesn't include any other made up name either. Not even ones enunciated so delightfully with spittle as one individual whispers he is really an Arsenal supporter and the other titters behind his hand that actually he is "a Scandinavian Man Utd". But then aren't they all.
The Europeans. Even charming ones on their own and desperately seeking friends who at least talk unlike any of the bloody English and make all the necessary knife jump manoeuvres back to station safety at the Shepherds Bush worthwhile. Purely out of fear I was like the pavement Aguero on that stretch, weaving in and out with speed and a pretend ball if not two . Or Toffitt on a good day.
At Johnny's, a rather camp black man - nice but without any capacity for hearing - served up tea when I had asked for coffee which in turn got me embroiled in conversation with a South Tynesider about the army at Caterham. It was alright but I'm for the North Tynesiders myself. I'm back at Sutton here behind the goal listening to a bloke talking dieting.
On the plus side, it was the only match I will ever see live or not live in which the two sides were kitted out respectively in yellow and green from head to toe. Come and have a go if you think you are hard enough, Delia, and what's the best recipe for canary?
But I also had a dog yapping at my heels throughout. And the worst move other than perhaps leaving early while wondering how it could have been that the god that is Colin Blunstone had ever played at such a venue (presumably in the club house with bar I never saw?) was to try to find Mike Parry in the pub next to Sutton station.
No Mike. In fact, it was a terrible day for opportunities to go up to media types, fling an arm around them, and say hello mate, it has been a long time because Elms, Kershaw and Crowley didn't show at the 100 Club either. Oh no. Utter lightweights.
Chavs galore, though, at the Old Bank of Sutton - "you're shit, la la la" just because of my Primark anorak and Jewish appearance and I like Jewish people a lot although I am not Jewish and the Woolpack at Banstead and the Pembroke at Coulsdon both reached by more hoppa were hardly any better. I blame the rugby.
Sorry - I didn't get the point about personal wind. Could you elucidate? 
