All too easy for Torquay

‘But beware….all of the fire and fizz….passion and excitement will be pointless, if we are too on Wednesday. Torquay will turn up. And they will play for 90 minutes. And no doubt they will be out to turn us over.’ (A Shot from Wales)

And Torquay did turn up….


We have lived in Wales for just about 15 years. And the strange thing is; every time I travel back over the ‘bridge’ to England….I feel more English. And what's more, my identity grows stronger with every £5.10 handed to the Toll Booth Attendant on the way back to Wales.


On Wednesday afternoon I left Wales in brilliant sunshine only to be swamped at Swindon by the fiercest of storms. But by Junction 11, the turnoff for my brothers house in Crookham Village, the skies had cleared once more. The giant single Wind Turbine standing guard over the Motorway exit and making ready for the hoards of Chelsea supporters; travelling to the Reading game that night. Not from west London but from Exeter and Bristol and …..well just about anywhere other than London I guess.

In Wales we have proper wind farms. They can be found across mile upon mile of the high mid Wales hills and mountains. And in Anglesey every spare field has a wind farm. But at Reading the turbine is merely a weak gesture to save the World. A Wind Croft perhaps…that’s it, a Wind Croft.

I got to my Brother’s house in time for something to eat before travelling onwards to the Rec.

And this is where the wheels started to come off, and the portents for that night’s game shifted from a win to getting stuffed.

With my niece deciding she wanted to go to the game we travelled in my Brother’s car and not the shiny new ……two-seater red car, that I had bought for the upcoming season.

1v0 to Torquay.

And as we drove past the High Street end my younger brother called to say that he was already at the ground, as he was picking up his season ticket. He never gets to the Rec first. That determined the first goal to be the deflection of a pathetic attempt at hitting the corner flag, by Tim Sills.

Walking down Redan Hill always raises my heart beat. The floodlights come into view first, then the East Bank and the South Stand…..with just a glimpse of our seats in the North Stand. Our pace picked up as we approached the turnstiles. But my older Brother has still to buy his season ticket….he was waiting for Terry Brown to go…then to see who was appointed…then he went on holiday….and on Wednesday he had to pay cash.

2v0 to Torquay.

The Social Club was pretty empty considering the size of the crowd…over 3000...and why? Pretty straightforward answer to the problem…can’t think why it remains a mystery for the Board.

And then the third goal went in….I didn’t have my customary, and cremated, steak slice before the game.

3v0 to Torquay.

But all will be well on Saturday. I have analysed my performance and I can find solutions to all of the shortcomings played out on Wednesday …..I hope Gary learns quickly too.

Droylsden Saturday…..optimistic? Why not.

In 1973/4 when we finished 8th in Div 3 (that’s Div 1 in Euros) we lost 9 of our first 13 games. Beating Blackburn Rovers 4v0 at home in our final home game….and then if we had won at Charlton, in our final game, we would have ended up 6th.

But then Jack Howarth did score 27 goals that season…..

So, Elvins, Grant and Dixon. This is your chance to get Jack’s picture off my study wall.