Saturday 4th November
Joss asked if we could cycle up Ebury Way to the ground, and I assumed it must be one of the newer roads constructed at the outer limits of Watford like his own is. Instead, he led me down to a cycle path which, on the stretch we rode, marks out the boundary with Three Rivers. On our right is a view out to the golf course at Moor Park, preceded by the cows and fields of Brightwells Farm, about which Joss tells me “a policeman said if we go in there, they can shoot us”. I tell him that is not the case but not to trespass either: who knows how many potential Tony Martins there are. Ebury Way finishes and we are soon at the dead end of Cardiff Road, further along which my dad worked as a plastic-bottle manufacturing factory supervisor for several years, and locking up outside the ground within 15 almost-traffickless minutes of leaving Kerry’s. This route, part of which I realise now must be the one away fans used to take from the closed Watford Stadium station, doesn’t necessitate circumnavigating three sides of the ground when it’s crowded outside.
Joss predicted a 1-0 win; I was confident too and swiftly proved rightly so as the Hornets pressured effectively from the first minute and scored in the sixth. What looked like a straightforward shot from Bouazza (Boozer) was later credited a Woodgate own-goal, which would have capped his nightmare game. After the miserable nature of the 3-3 draw with Fulham, I was willing us to put away another of the many chances we had before half-time, fearing that Middlesbrough would come out a better side in the second forty-five. We didn’t and they did, but they could hardly have been worse and we soaked up about 10 minutes of pressure (haven’t conceded in the last 3 premiership games) and then Young (who I’d declared my favourite player along with Shittu – Joss’ are Foster and King) latched on to a pathetic headed back-pass and swept it into the corner of the net nearest us in the sixtieth minute. After the celebrations, the Rookery resounded with another chorus of “Southgate’s not qualified” and this 2-0 result must have shortened the odds on him becoming the first top-division manager to go this season.
The odds on us staying up haven’t changed though and at 1/5, we are still favourites for the drop. With West Ham winning twice this week and Sheffield United and Charlton both getting wins today too, the win doesn’t do anything so grand as “take us out of the danger zone”. They do move us above Newcastle, who we play in the cup on Tuesday though. Joss and I cycled back the way we’d come and arrived home just as Trevor (my brother), his girlfriend Sarah and her kids Ethan and Beth arrived. They are accompanying Kerry, Joss and Phil to Cassiobury Park for the fireworks tonight. I, on the other hand, am in a bit of a rush to get back to London and get out for 8 in order to celebrate my birthday with friends at Salvador and Amanda’s on Great Newport Street. Sangria, beer and an enormous red cocktail (“Surprise me”, I told Julie (the Hammer)) are downed in celebration of three points and thirty-seven years a Watford Boy.
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