United Down Pompey
I was looking forward to this match perhaps more than any other this season because it was the first one back after injury, for my usual match day companion, my Dad. For the first time this season he was able to go to the Theatre of Dreams and that was more than enough reason to look forward to this game. The magic of the cup and all that was also there, we were all hoping that it would be a lot easier than the last outing in the competition when Ole saved us. Everything was ready; Dad had even provided sarnies on good bread and the old favourite a flask full of coffee. It was just like the first full season I was lucky enough to have a place on the match rota, before for convenience we took to buying meat and ‘tater pies. With the introduction of the American Chipmunk, the takeover of big business and our crash from being our own club to merely a pawn in a finance portfolio I have refused to buy any pies or match day refreshment at all. Not that Glazer will be worried about the loss of my particular one pound plus but that really is not the point, it’s a stand made by me and others against the regime.
Rebelling with a cause means I was happy to take Dad’s homemade food. I’m only sorry the United lads didn’t put on a better performance for his return.
Given to Score 