One hundred percent

Watford v Sheffield United

Saturday 18^th August

Cycled to Euston and shared a carriage to the Junction with singing Blades fans. Back on my bike, I arrived at Kerry’s about quarter past two and Joss and I began the walk soon after but Doggy picked us up in the spitting rain and gave us a lift to the top of Harwoods Road. Z-Cars was going as we went into the shop, where we got Joss a new top with his name and 13 on. Missed the kick-off.

Watford were defending the Rookery end but the first half saw United with the better chances, one of which was off of Watford defender Jay DeMerit’s head. Mart Poom in goal was equal to the challenges though and Lloyd Doyley had the run of the half when he won a ball by our corner flag and made it to the other end of the pitch. Marlon King was out on the right for some reason, which didn’t seem to afford him many shooting chances though he danced around one of their men a few times.

In the second half especially, Lee Williamson shone with some great little runs and it was fitting that it was he who received a Tommy Smith pass and hit the back of the net with our only shot on target of the game. Watford bossed the second half and could have had another goal but Darius Henderson’s header was wide. Steve Kabba came on with twenty minutes left for Tommy Smith, who doesn’t look on his game but had cleared a James Beattie free-kick off the line as well as setting up the only goal of the match.

Knowing that the ex-Hornet Danny Webber had scored a last-minute winner in this fixture last year I was a little nervous as the clock wound down but he’d already gone off when we got to stoppage time and we deserved what we got. Six points out of six against two of the division’s fancied sides. Come on. As we walked out, we were able to check on the other scores of the day on the numerous flat screens the club has put up. At least some of the millions we’ve received over the last year have now been spent.

Today would have been Luke’s 21^st birthday so I wrote in a card that Kerry will take to the crematorium tomorrow. He is loved and missed.

Life is just a game

Watford v Gillingham (Carling Cup 1^st Round)

Tuesday 14^th August

When I bought the tickets on ebay, I didn’t think that Watford might be playing the same evening and so it was that Prince came first. This time I went with Julie. Prince has said that it will be a different show each night and began with 1999, which got the evening off to a more upbeat start than Saturday. The set was better too, with longer guitar solos that left Julie wanting to come back.

We went to the after-show party at Indigo2 and the purple one turned up about 1 and jammed and played some more of his tracks. We danced near the front for a couple of hours and left satiated about half four. It was only the following afternoon that I found out Watford had changed ten men in their starting line-up (Tamas Priskin remained from Saturday) and cruised 3-0 past Gillingham with Priskin, Douglas Rinaldi and Alex Campana scoring and Richard Lee saving a penalty at 0-0.

Joy in repetiton

Wolverhampton Wanderers v Watford

11^th August 2007

My brother Trevor and his girlfriend Sarah brought my niece Kasey over last night and we stayed in, chatted and played Risk. After a walk along the canal and through Regents Park this afternoon, we had a pizza at a chain restaurant near Euston and ended up resurrecting last year’s argument about the amount of money Watford earned from TV by being promoted. This time, Trevor claimed my position had been his, which I guess is a form of admission that I was right…

Anyway, afterwards I headed over to the Greenwich Pensioner, a pub in Poplar that I’d rung in the week and whose landlady had agreed to show the match live. I chose the pub for its location close to the O2 Centre (Millennium Dome), where I was heading for my second concert of three in a month. I turned up ten minutes into the game and felt the eyes of the locals on me. The game was goalless and Wolves slowly seemed to be having more of it, with a great chance being put high over by Olofinjana.

Just before halftime though, the Wolves midfielder made amends by lobbing Mart Poom after being put clear through with only our keeper to beat. The second half started with them threatening to increase the lead and narrowly missing twice. Jobi McAnuff had a chance too but fired straight at the keeper. The landlord, who I’d chatted football with, came and sat with me and I told him (a United fan) about Joss’ conversion (“Nah, that’s out of order as it happens”). In the meantime two other locals rehashed an argument they’d obviously run through before (Arsenal a foreign team) and one that I’d used on Trevor when he was being racist about Watford players.

Rod and Air turned up with about 30 mins to go and Rod proved to be a lucky charm again. The two live matches he’s been to have resulted in Watford wins and with three minutes left on the clock Watford won a free kick just outside the box that Jordan Stewart took. He’s got a mean shot on him but the deflection was probably what took this one in for his first Watford goal. Earlier today I’d read that the latest goal scored in the Premiership last season was by Bolton against Watford in the 96th minute. So it was that balance was achieved with the foul on Steve Kabba leading to a penalty at a similar time of the game.

Marlon King strode up to take it and blasted high into the net and I was up on my feet in the pub. One of the older locals smiled at me. I shook the landlord’s hand as I left a few minutes later. Football’s great.

Rod dropped me off at Canary Wharf station where I met Faisel and we caught the tube one stop to North Greenwich. I gave him the Prince ticket I bought on ebay and we went in to see the man, who opened with Purple Rain and played many of his hits but not all of them all the way through. His show is flawless but leaves you wanting more when once he delivered it all.

Franchise football

Milton Keynes Dons v Watford

Wednesday 1^st August

stadium:mk is so new that I had trouble locating it before leaving London and got off at Milton Keynes only to discover a taxi ride was required to complete our journey. Being driven between the new town’s roundabouts feels like a giant version of join-the-dots but it’s not a pretty picture that you’d see from above. I’d been told that tickets had been sent back when I phoned Watford and that we could buy them “on the door” but a queue of hundreds snaking round the car park indicates the length of the wait we’re in for. Several fans just decide against the debacle and leave but after about fifteen minutes’ in line, sections of the queue start to break for the turnstile on the other side of the ground, so we do likewise only to find we have joined another queue for a poorly-staffed and incomplete ticket office which runs out of tickets twice before I pay £10 & £5 to get in twenty minutes after kick-off. My frustration is compounded by the fact that one of the electronic ticket readers isn’t working but the steward standing next to it can’t even be bothered to tell people.

The tempers of several large men made to wait had been rubbing up against each other and the stewards but when some of the latecomers started singing “We’ve got too many fans”, the mixture of pride and humour saw off the resentment that lingered. The outside of the stadium was more impressive (though, in black, it felt a touch like an 80’s dream) than the unfinished inside which lacked easily-visible signs, seats in the upper tiers, a scoreboard and a home crowd. Watford, in their Beko sponsored shirts and black shorts, were defending the goal we were sitting behind and were forced to do so when Dons’ players broke through on a couple of occasions. The new keeper Mart Poom,, the Lativan international we got from Arsenal, looked steady (if old – Joss commented that he looked tired).

In the break Joss got Jay Demerit’s autograph on his shirt and there was a ginger guy in the stand signing too but I didn’t know who he was… The second half saw us in their area for long periods and we struck the frame of the goal twice and forced saves from their keeper. Although it was a friendly, there was a least one significant scuffle but no cards were shown. Tamas Prisking missed a second chance and was replaced with Henderson, who received a standing ovation from some fans which may have been down more to his devotion in refusing to consider going to Preston rather than his successes of last season.

Hameur Bouazzaa, who didn’t play tonight, has let it be known he’d like to go to a Premiership team and Fulham have shown a £4 million interest. Danny Shittu didn’t play either (Clarke Carlisle was in the centre of defence) and I am still wondering about him. We spent a million and three-quarters on Jobi McAnuff from Crystal Palace and brought in Matt Jackson from Wigan. This game ended 0-0 and although we were the better side, we hardly outclassed them. The Championship is a slog, though.

Afterwards, Joss and I walked past oversized stores to Bletchley station and practised Spanish on the platform. He can say “Would you like a pizza?” and “What nationality are you?”. We head to Barcelona at the end of the month, returning just before the Ipswich home game.

Could you be the next Attorney General?

Many of us will agree with Lord Goldsmith’s own assessment that “it is a particularly appropriate moment for [him] to move on” but perhaps he would not concur with those who believe his next position should be on a bottom bunk in a cell. In case you are thinking of applying for the now-vacant position, here are a few questions that may help confirm your suitability for the post.

1. Which of these is the best way to be noticed?

a. Work hard as a barrister and then obtain extensive political experience.

b. Be friends with a friend of the PM and make a donation to the Labour party.

2. The PM wants to start a “pre-emptive” war. Do you…?

a. Clarify the need for a UN Resolution that authorises such force.

b. Equivocate and then fall into line with the man who could sack you.

3. Honours may be being offered in return for donations/loans. Would you…?

a. Remove yourself from involvement in a political scandal involving friends.

b. Insist you will decide on any prosecutions and then take no action.

4. There is substantial evidence that a British company is bribing foreign officials. What is the correct procedure?

a. Allow a full investigation by the Serious Fraud Office to run its course.

b. Depends whether it’s an arms company or not.

5. The anti-corruption watchdog, the OECD, requests details about allegations of bribery. You should…?

a. Allow full disclosure. The UK Government must be seen to be firmly anti-corruption.

b. Order British investigators to conceal payments.

How was it for you? If you answered mostly (a), you could be the next Attorney General of a democratic government which does not think itself above both domestic and international law. But if you answered mostly (b), you are either Lord Goldsmith or you could be in line for a move to Buckingham Gate.

Champions

Watford v Newcastle United

13^th May 2007

It might have been the wrong sort of rain that delayed the train to Watford but I had to call Joss and tell him to leave and meet me at the Vic; Phil gave him a lift to the top of Harwoods Road and we met on the corner near the Red Lion, where I watched part of the Toon Army braving the rain topless in Hawaiian shorts. After locking up we got in too late to see the nurses lead the footballers out. I’d seen Noreena Hertz on the BBC News this morning and she’d mentioned that her campaign had the backing of more than 250 Premiership footballers, a fantastic success.

We took our seats for the last time this season and perhaps ever (Joss would like to sit higher up next year and I agree, though the atmosphere at the front is far better than in the middle). We sang “Yellow Army” and “Owen’s going home” (after Freddy Shepherd’s comments this week) and the Golden Boys, when they weren’t slipping over, had the better of the play. Will Hoskins, Douglas Rinaldi and Marlon King all got themselves into promising positions but failed to test their keeper, Shay Given.

Typically, Newcastle scored with their first on-target shot of their match as Kieron Dyer slotted past the onrushing Ben Foster, in his last game for us, after Jordan Stewart failed to cut out a through ball. The Newcastle fans in the Vicarage Road end didn’t seem that loud in celebration but maybe it’s because their singing before that had been so impassioned.

We went in at half-time a goal down and the best news of the day came when our girls’ team were paraded as champions of their league after a 12-0 victory. The Premiership title was decided in ManU’s™ favour last weekend (when Chelsea could only draw at Arsenal) and Charlton’s fight against the inevitable was over by Monday evening, so the real question today was who the third team to go down would be. After 45 minutes, West Ham were winning at ManU™ and Wigan were 2-1 up at Brammall Lane, meaning their hosts, Sheffield United, would go down if the scores all stayed the same.

Ten minutes after we’d eaten our half-time bananas, Lee Williamson unleashed a sweet half-volley that went just wide. A minute or two later, Adrian Mariappa came down the right and crossed. Newcastle’s Nicky Butt stuck out a hand and Watford had a penalty, our third of the season. It was Marlon King who stepped up to take it and slot it into the bottom left-hand corner to give us a one hundred percent conversion rate and him his fourth goal of the season, a tally second only to Hameur Bouazza’s, who has been given compassionate leave.

We had plenty more chances in the second half but they were just about all off target. Michael Owen was stretchered off with what was later diagnosed as mild concussion. My “Owen’s carried home” song was met by a “Shut up, mate” from the guy directly in front. “Fuck off” I replied sweetly. The whole ‘making friends with other fans’ thing never really took off. Theo Robinson came on to make his premiership debut (cue puzzled looks) and then, in the ninetieth minute, “England’s number one” was substituted and serenaded and Alec Chamberlain came on to play what was his last game for us too.

We deserved more than Newcastle from the game but a draw was not unfair. As the team took its bows and did half a lap of honour that didn’t really include the Rookery (much to the annoyance of some around us), we could reflect on a season that saw us do far better than when we were last up (1999-2000) but still not well enough by at least ten points. The half-time scores in the games that affected the relegation battle did not change and Sheffield United come straight back down with us.

“We’ll be back as Champions,” we’d sung as the manager, who signed a new, improved contract at the beginning of the week, thanked us for our support. Who will we lose, though? Danny Shittu has made noises and Hameur Bouazza could be too good to stay. Perhaps even Marlon King will be in demand. I don’t think we’ll have it as bad as the Blades or Charlton, but it’s unlikely to be the same Golden Boys next season. If it’s not promotion next year, there’s always the girls’ team.

Something from nothing

Reading v Watford

Saturday 5^th May

Jun and I picked up a waiting Joss at Euston and tubed to Paddington where we were commended by some passing Millwall fans for our “passion” in the face of relegation. After Rod and Air turned up, we commenced the half-hour train ride and then got onto a 79 bus for the impressive Madejski stadium. I predicted defeat since Reading are still playing for a place in the UEFA cup whereas pride was insufficient motivation to get us anything at Sheffield United last week.

Sat high up in the South Stand, we had an excellent view of the action, the first-half of which saw Reading attacking the goal below us. Ben Foster (“England’s number one,” again, we have short memories) made a couple of crucial interventions and the debutant Cedric Avinel was lucky not to concede a penalty that Leroy Lita was looking for. Watford started without Clarke Carlisle (suspended after the FA looked at his actions last week), Jay Demerit (given a break ahead of international duty) and Hameur Bouazza. Douglas Rinaldi went off injured after only ten minutes Avinel looked slow and clumsy and was carded before being substituted at half-time.

The atmosphere was better than at the Vic: chants often echoed around the whole stadium but it was the Reading fans to our immediate right that usually led. One of their chants involved the notion that Reading in Europe was “insane” but when the good-humoured Watford crew at the back of the stadium sang “Scunthorpe on a Tuesday night” in return, the reply “Europe on a Thursday night” was a tad unimaginative.

We went for refreshments but it took more than the whole break to get served so I missed the first ten minutes after the restart but not too much action, apparently. Jun had said she thought we could take them and I was inclined to agree if only because they penetrated but didn’t look capable of getting past Danny Shittu or Foster. So it was that a free kick led to Danny Shittu being in so much space he was able to pass the ball into a half-empty goal. The five of us celebrated but I still thought we’d be lucky to hold out for a draw.

Foster made another fantastic one-handed save at point-blank range and, coming into the last ten minutes, I feared the worst. I went to tell Rod about our propensity for letting in late goals but he said Joss had already told him and it was clear that the younger Watford Boy was enjoying sharing his knowledge. Five minutes before the end of normal time Tommy Smith weaved down the left and crossed. Their American keeper made a hash of it and Marlon King was there to head in from a yard or so out.

Two goals away for the first time all season and three points to the Golden Boys meant that Reading’s European tour seems highly unlikely if Spurs’ form remains consistent. The most vocal area of the home crowd erupted in fights as we sang “We’re shit and we’re two nil up,” to rub it in. At the final whistle, the Watford fans stayed longer than the majority of the Reading fans despite the home side doing a lap of honour. Then it was bus, train, tube and Joss was heading back to Watford and his dad, content with a victory and watching the scraps amongst the Reading fans.

Disarming

Sheffield United v Watford

Saturday 28^th April

The coincidence of the meeting of Disarm DSEi (Defence Systems and Equipment international) at University of London Union, five minutes from home, with Watford’s long journey to Sheffield for a game which would have no impact on our season (bar our pride) had made the decision to write up some leaflets and go recruiting (as well as get some ideas for the “Stop the Arms Trade Week” of June 2^nd to 10^th) an easy one. I met Becky outside the ULU as police cameramen took pictures of the many people milling about, most of whom had nothing to do with the event. We went inside and took seats but a roar went up from outside indicating the arrest of one of the activists, who turned out to be a fourteen-year-old boy, and we went back outside to see if we could do anything and be photographed for our troubles.

The core of the spirally arranged ensemble were uniformed in black and the talk of action was restrained by the fact that this was a “public meeting” (about 30 people were there) and the fact that many of the actions the group planned would obviously be illegal. A woman at the back dressed in a summer dress pointed out that some of the people she knew who would like to be involved were put off by the presence of the police but implied heavily that it was the appearance of the activists that was also a problem. Dressed in a red T-shirt, I knew what she meant. I did put in a word or two about London Campaign Against the Arms Trade but inferred from a reaction or two that we weren’t hardcore enough. I saw a guy I knew from ISM London and the fact that he ignored me said a lot about the gulf between the “serious” protesters here and the people they were supposed to be welcoming. Non-violence is not an option for some.

Still, I did meet a couple of people I’d been in e-mail contact with in my role as co-ordinator of London CAAT, and a few people approached me for details and seemed keen to get involved so I think we took something more from the meeting than a distinction between those who’d been “failing to shut DSEi down for six years” and those who were hoping to be inspired to get involved for the first time. As well as suggesting that I could make a map using Platial or Google MyMaps as a resource for activists, I also offered to put in the time and effort to organise a public demo/protest for September 11^th, and will have to see if anything comes of signing up on the email list.

After a beer I came home and decided (with no plans for tonight – we went to Hampstead New End theatre last night to see a so-so play called Charlie and Henry) not to look up the scores but wait for MoTD. It was much more suspenseful that way and I enjoyed the matches in the race for the title (ManU™ won after going two down but Chelsea were pegged back after taking the lead) nearly as much as watching Clarke Carlisle almost getting sent off for two silly fouls, including an elbow to the face of Jon Stead. Marlon King hit the bar with a lob but that was after Chris Powell had deflected a shot in past Ben Foster and that was the only goal of the game, the first time in two seasons that a game between these two sides had ended in a home win.

That’s why we’re going down

Watford v Manchester City

Saturday 21^st April

Joss and I got in after kick-off again and I greeted the father and son immediately behind us who I’ve chatted with over the last couple of home games. Earlier in the season I pledged to make an effort with fans but have to report one home game away from the end of our Premiership campaign that I have not lived up to that. Although Joss and I started clapping and shouting immediately that we sat down, there was not much of an atmosphere today and I didn’t feel too motivated to take the lead in creating one until the second half.

The first half was poor: the City fans were louder but the game was mediocre. Our best chance came as Damien Francis pulled up injured and until we realised he had to go off we were disappointed that nothing had come of it. City didn’t seem too dangerous but neither did the Golden Boys. Marlon King started for the first time since October but unfortunately that showed, especially with a header in front of us that he directed yards wide.

Nil-nil at half time was a fair representation of a game lacking in most things that get fans involved but I resolved to shout throughout the second half and try to help create a twelfth man. I wasn’t alone. “Aidy Boothroyd’s Yellow Army” is a song that fits well with the “join in” ethos of the club and I led and led and led. However, less than ten minutes after the restart, Ben Foster moved forward to deal with a back pass and disaster. What looked to me like a failure to make a clear decision about whether to whack the ball or pass it to the left-back culminated in a tap into the path of Darius Vassell, who was able to pass into a semi-empty net. Foster, who’d been booed throughout the first half by the visiting fans (he’s a United player on loan to us, remember) suddenly found himself the object of “England’s number one” chants from the fans in blue. Ouch.

The fans, who are used to such adversity, responded to our falling behind by finally getting behind the team. In the absence of Curly (I’d already taken on the ideas behind some of his more abusive shouts) the usual suspects in front of us to our left (who are part of the “front row crew”) led some chants including “The football league is upside down”, which I haven’t heard for a while. I never tried my “land of harts and hornets” number, but contented myself with shouting along to “Yellow Army” etc. It took twenty minutes but a Douglas Rinaldi pass allowed Tamas Priskin to knock in his second goal of the season (2 in the last 4 games) and that only boosted the twelfth man. Unfortunately, that was not enough and another King headed miss meant it finished even and ended any hopes the most optimistic of the followers might have had. Championship football for us from August.

We clapped the players off (I wondered who, including the manager, we’d lose in the summer and think Hameur Bouazza and Danny Shittu (as well as Foster) are the most likely to be objects of transfer interest) and walked back a circuitous route because the police had cordoned off the bottom of Cardiff Road for some reason. Back at Kerry’s, Joss and I did some Spanish, played chess, connect 4 and air hockey and then I spent some time with my sister and her boyfriend. I’ve committed myself to another season ticket. More goals and more victories next season are assured, aren’t they?

An afterthought

Blackburn Rovers v Watford

Wednesday 18^th April

I sent a long overdue email to Rob in Doha and read through a pile of magazines and papers on the floor (pre-recycling) in order to make the place more presentable for our new lodger this weekend. Looking up the Watford score about midnight was almost accidental. All the goals were scored in the first half but Douglas Rinaldi got off the mark at Ewood Park. We went down 3-1 to the other defeated semi-finalists and defeat on Saturday could mean the mathematics finally catch up with the “facts” as we know them.

Blistered and hoarse

Watford v Manchester United (F.A. Cup Semi Final)

Saturday 14^th April

All talk of whether an F.A. Cup run is a good thing is long forgotten as Watford’s Premiership status slipped away (all but mathematically) games ago. Thus, it was with excitement that I woke up to make sandwiches and hot chocolate for the match at Villa Park. The Golden Boys have been in five F.A. Cup Semis (this was ManU™’s 25^th), and my attendance at this makes me a sixty-percenter. My first, twenty-three years ago, resulted in an expected win while my second, three years ago was a disappointing but not unexpected defeat. After ManU™ had thrashed Roma 7-1 on Tuesday of this week, Monday’s chant of “Bring on United” got put into appropriate context and this third semi was always going to require a surprise the likes of which we haven’t had since Luther Blissett scored two at Old Trafford in 1978 to win us a League Cup game when we were in the old Third Division.

I met Jan at the “Doric Arch”, the pub by the bus stops at Euston station and we had a couple of beers before we got on a train to Harrow & Wealdstone, where we disembarked for the specially designated train. There appeared to be only one other fan waiting and we chatted before he moved up towards the front of the platform. When it pulled in, we asked the guard if we could take First Class seats and gleefully did so, knowing that however many piled on at the next few stations, we would be comfortable. Trouble was, there was no piling on. Even at Watford Junction itself, the number of fans was in the tens and we had a quiet carriage (not just the First Class section) to ourselves. Watford’s ticket allowance did not sell out and the lack of atmosphere on the train was an obvious consequence: can we have cup fatigue? Are there fans out there seriously waiting for a final to “make a day of it”?

Jun had joined Jan and I at the pub and Joss got on at Watford (I’d posted his train ticket to him) so we had a little isolated sing-song. Jan, whose allegiance tends towards the Gooners, seemed surprised when I answered that I led chants at the Vic, but after I’d offered him a Watford shirt and he refused in order to stick with his Royal Blue “Suomi” T, Joss and I treated him to a round or two of “We support our local team”, which he took with good grace. I also tried out the chant I’d made up a good few weeks ago but haven’t used yet and said I’d put it to use at Villa Park. There was a short stop at Northampton which we took advantage of to stretch our legs and I greeted other fans on the platform with “we’re the first class, we’re the first class, we’re the first class over here”. One carriage down responded with “we’re the poor class” but other than that, spirit was lacking in the fans on the rails.

Jan slept. We detrained at Aston and sang the ten-minute walk to the ground in the company of the Yellow Army from cars and coaches. Inside, we had another beer (vodka and Stella had been imbibed en route) and took our seats ten rows from the front just as the Golden Boys (in yellow shorts as well as shirts again) finished their warm-up. The atmosphere was great - we were outnumbered and there were empty seats in “our” Doug Ellis stand, but the ground was echoing to songs from both sides - these were not the same ManU™ fans that were at Old Trafford in January. When the team emerged again from the tunnel we launched the Thomson Local confetti I had cut up this morning and half an hour’s scissor work was gone in seconds. Come on you ‘orns.

ManU™ had their big guns out (though Jun thought Ryan Giggs in particular looked bigger on TV) and within six minutes potato head Wayne Rooney had chipped in a goal to get us off to the sort of start I was fearing. Twenty more minutes blurred past and then Hameur Bouazza, who scored two on Monday and is our top-scorer, pulled off a fantastic overhead kick from a Tommy Smith header to put us level. We partied like it was 1999, a song I’d listened to in my pre-match build-up, but before we’d settled down Cristiano Ronaldo had latched onto a Rooney cross and we were behind again. From the position we were in it wasn’t easy to see exactly how effective Watford’s attacks were but we had our fair share and perhaps were unlucky to go into the break a goal down.

The second half saw the same Watford commitment to attack and try to win the game, which made for exciting viewing but plays into United’s counter-attacking style, not that it was immediately effective. We remained in contention but a second Rooney goal finished us off (we haven’t scored more than one away from the Vic all season). Kieran Richardson came on as a United sub and added to their total too and the only remaining heartfelt cheer was for our substitute Marlon King, who has missed the majority of the season with injury and who we’ve missed terribly. Apparently, there has been some interest in him from other Premiership clubs and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Bouazza was a summer transfer target too.

It was a great day out: the best atmosphere of any game I’ve been to this season, and no Watford fan could have felt hard done by or expected more. We left singing and were chatted at by an obnoxious Watford fan and then talked to a Dubliner who’d flown over to support United. I felt justified in my oft-sung “We support our local team” number. We queued for fifteen minutes or more to sit in a full First Class section for the train back and played “I spy” again to while away what seemed like a much longer return journey. As we pulled in at the Junction about two and a half hours later, a couple of lads sang “First Class give us a song” and I belted out the song I’d told Jan I would try to get people to sing today (but hadn’t). These guys at least seemed to appreciate my effort:

Land of harts and hornets

Since eighteen eighty one

Golden boys forever

Watford’s marching on!

At home my right thumb still hurt from the blister that cutting up the confetti created and I was hardly able to speak but we caught the end of the highlights on MoTD and felt that we’d had a good day out. Que sera.

Firsts

Watford v Portsmouth

Easter Monday, 9^th April

I got up earlier than I wanted to with legs and neck still aching from yesterday’s exertions as goalkeeper and defender in Regent’s Park (I had a great game: my team mates called me a “professional” keeper). After breakfast I pocketed my season ticket (with a little Post-It I’d written “gloves” on (the ones I used in the park are falling apart)) and cycled to Euston, trained it to the Junction and rode to Kerry’s. She made me a cuppa and Joss and I walked to the ground. I said I expected a draw today but felt that was hopeful after our defeat and their victory two days ago.

We didn’t start well and Pompey went about their business largely unchallenged so it was no surprise that Matthew Taylor had plenty of time to curl in a shot beyond Ben Foster with little more than quarter of an hour gone. The fans in blue, who’d already been quite loud, sang “Let’s all have a disco” and danced in the Vicarage Road end. Going behind did at least serve to rouse the Golden Boys and Tamas Priskin, who’d given the ball away in the run-up to their goal, dribbled well in their box and found himself tripped for a penalty just before the half-hour mark.

Joss pointed out that Darius Henderson’s absence meant someone else had to take our second league penalty of the season and it was Hameur Bouazza who stepped up. I shouted to their keeper, David James, that the achievement of a Premiership record number of clean sheets would not occur today and the Algerian international strode up and coolly proved me right. Further pressure from us followed as we howled at James whenever he had the ball (his facial hair was a tad excessive) but the final goal of the half was a complete surprise. The ball was knocked out of the area and our captain, Gavin Mahon, who has not performed at Premiership level this season, ran in threatening to unleash a left-footed half-volley that I fully expected to reach the back of the stand. Instead, he smashed it with glorious technique into the top corner of the net for his first goal of the season and perhaps the best Watford goal I’ve seen for many years. The kick-off was followed by the half-time whistle: a high to take into the dressing room.

We started the second half as we had ended the first and Priskin got his name on the score sheet for the second time since joining. Since the previous effort was in the abandoned game with Wigan, this goal counted as his first and he ran down the touchline to celebrate with Marlon King, who was sitting behind the bench. The fans went into celebratory mood and our players didn’t let up though Portsmouth had a couple of chances. “Boozer” Bouazza had a shot saved by James and later another shot was parried but he latched onto the rebound to get his second and give us four goals for the first time in the Premiership. “We want five”, we sang, and Boozer seemed especially keen to make that happen, with two long-range shots that went wide. Portsmouth’s sub netted one but when I led the “Let’s all have a disco,” chant a minute or two before the final whistle, the whole of the Rookery joined me in dancing and singing in merriment.

At the final whistle, “England’s number one” turned and threw his gloves into the stand and I caught the right one. Had the second been thrown in the same direction, it would have saved me a purchase and they would’ve been used in Regent’s Park this Sunday. As it was I gave the sweaty thing to Joss but made him promise not to use it/take it out of the house. We bumped into Jake and Matt in the shop and then walked back happy with our three points and the confidence boost ahead of the FA Cup Semi-Final on Saturday. Joss showed the glove to his mates in the close outside his house and his friend Louis exclaimed “Lucky bugger”.

Didn't turn up

Middlesbrough v Watford

Saturday 7^th April

This was a game I would have considered going to if Watford had still been in with a chance of survival but coupled with a trip to the semi-final next weekend, the long trip to the northeast didn’t appeal. Since Sky Sports News has gone from my cable service, I had to make do with the BBC Sport’s text update. However you followed the match, it didn’t make for Easter cheer. 1-0 down after five minutes, Damien Francis’ twenty-second minute equaliser was followed within two minutes by a second ‘boro goal. That’s how the scores stayed until half-time but John, my colleague at work, will delight in being able to return the taunts I dished out five months ago after his local team added another two and finished up giving us a 4-1 hiding. Betty made no excuses, calling us awful.

With the exception of the Hornets’ fate, the league has got more interesting. Charlton and West Ham have found form of late (the latter incredibly winning at Arsenal today) and Sheffield United have dropped into the bottom three. At the other end, ManU™ lost at Portsmouth this evening, which means there are only three points between them and Chelsea, with the teams yet to go head-to-head at Stamford Bridge. The UEFA Cup positions still seem to be up for grabs too. After 32 games and with just 6 to go, there seems to be only one certainty in the English Premiership: we are out of our league.

Almost there

Watford v Chelsea

Saturday 31^st March

Only the sports pages of The Guardian prevented me from heading over to Watford more than two hours before I needed to be there: I hadn’t been aware the kick-off was at 5.15. Still, I had to be there earlier than I would if Joss’ bike hadn’t been stolen a couple of weeks ago. Sarah and Ethan were around, but Kerry was in bed when I got there. Joss and I left just after half four and he chatted about his friends at school, his maths teacher, the films he watched in lieu of ‘drama’ and ‘discovery’ lessons and described a Spanish test he’d done well in that seemed to be made up exclusively of the only vocabulary and expressions he knew. It reminded me of when he said he’d had a test on capitals in September 2005 after we’d been learning some.

We were there early enough to enjoy a bit of pre-match atmosphere (a “bit” is all there is) and within three minutes of the game starting, Darius Henderson had left an elbow in the air that John Terry’s face moved to fill and we had a break that the Watford players used to continue their warm-up. Watford had early pressure that led to a couple of corners and Steve Kabba, working hard up front, had a fantastic overhead kick tipped over by Peter Cech. We certainly looked the more likely to score for the first half-hour, with Chelsea’s attacks relatively lacking in vim until Didier Drogba somehow picked up a pass behind our defenders just outside the six yard box and was still judged onside. His turn and stab at goal was blocked by Ben Foster with his left foot and the relief in the Rookery was tangible.

I’m not sure if it was just today but the Rous stand seems to have become increasingly vociferous and involved and I think that the variety of chants from the Rookery has increased over the season, but particularly since the turn of the year and the fun at Fulham. Curly was on good form next to us today, performing a Cossack-style dance he was desperate for Andriy Shevchenko to see but that had to suffice with laughs from the fans around him. We taunted Frank Lampard with his absence from England’s team for the midweek Andorra victory and chanted “Roman’s rent-boys” to the rest of the team and “Sacked in the summer” to the manager.

There were a couple more good saves from Foster before the break but standing in line for a pizza pod and a hot dog, we were inclined to feel that this was one of Watford’s best team performances of the season and to dream of three points (yet still be delighted with one). “Jose is a girl’s name” Mourinho made all of his substitutions within fifteen minutes of the restart but Watford still had the best chances of the game: Kabba rushed wide a shot from six yards and Damien Francis, who worked hard all game had a good shot stopped on the right before another Kabba drive was cleared off the line by Cech, who was matching Foster. We could and should have put one of those three in and won a famous victory. Instead, in the second minute of four added on, Shevchenko crossed for the substitute Salomon Kalou to rise and nod in.

The Chelsea fans who hadn’t made a noise most of the game were understandably overjoyed to have stolen it at the death to stay six points behind ManU™ and with West Ham and Charlton both winning again, the gap between us and everyone else just keeps widening. I resigned myself to relegation a few games ago, so that’s not the worry but it’s hard not to have taken anything from this and end Chelsea’s title ambitions at the same time. On the walk back Joss asked who I thought man of the match had been and I said Francis, but it had been a good team performance: at Stamford Bridge there’d been a gulf between the two sides that wasn’t evident today.

Having dropped off Joss, I had to rush off to get down to New Malden in Surrey for Kahori, Maya and Mina’s leaving party. We saw them on Wednesday but on Monday they head for a new life in Japan and this might be the last we see them for a few years. New beginnings: I think I am due one too.

England's Number Two

Tottenham Hotspur v Watford

Saturday 17^th March

From Euston to Seven Sisters, Joss and I talked about the match on TV last week and he commented on how good Bouazza’s goal had been. We talked about the subsequent drawing of ManU or Boro, who replay on Monday, and wondered about where we’d have to head to see the match. Jun and Faisel are already signed up but Rod will be in Mexico and therefore unable to make it. I’ll make a couple of other calls when the opponents and venue have been set to see if others want to get in on it.

We walked up the High Road, a few hundred metres from where I used to share a flat with Sue at Clyde Circus, and on amongst the stream of white-clad fans towards the Lane. Having decided against the programme seller with a small queue we were disappointed to discover the regular guy in the away stand was off sick. We were in early enough to see the guys training and hear that Spurs had left Dimitri Berbatov, who has been white hot, Aaron Lennon and Robbie Keane (each red hot) on a sizzling bench. They are replaying Chelsea on Monday after a 3-3 draw at Stamford Bridge. Early chants from our end included “3-1 and you fucked it up” in reference to the lead they lost that day.

More to the point, though, was the fact that they’d scored three against Chelsea in a run of hitting threes and fours in the League and a successful UEFA Cup run. This is a much better Spurs than we played four and a half months ago. They looked threatening from midfield but Jay Demerit and Danny Shittu contained Mido and the Jermaines – Defoe and Jenas – who were indisputably a second string. It was only when I had decided for sure that Jenas wouldn’t score that he did five minutes before half time and, although Ben Foster could do nothing about a header into the bottom corner, our boasts that he was “England’s number one” seemed blunted in the presence of his clean-sheeted rival.

We got our programmes and Joss went for chocolate in hot liquid and cold solid forms, with money from his dad, who’d taken him to Watford Junction. Watford looked as lacking up front as they have most of the season but it was a freak goal just after the hour that will make posterity. Robinson took a free kick outside his area and it looped all the way into our box. Under pressure, Shittu left it for a surprised Foster to deal with and he couldn’t. “That’s why you’re number one,” they chanted as the rest of the team ran back to congratulate England’s keeper. I only heard one fan mention Croatia…

That killed us, though we responded to their fans with a few rounds of “Yellow Army”. They didn’t look particularly like scoring again in the following twenty minutes but then Hossam Ghaly let off a deflected shot into the bottom corner and we had to go through the whole “Yellow Army” thing again as our own were deserting us for North London’s streets all around. By way of consolation for those of us who stayed, Tommy Smith ran to the goal line and crossed for Darius Henderson to get his third of the season and we got our biggest cheer of the game.

We walked out and back down the High Street. A guy in a passing car shouted “Going down with the Hammers” and I replied “Shut it”. When we caught up with the car at the traffic lights a bit further up he seemed rather aggressive in asking “Shut what?” but I smiled at the programme I was studying and ignored him. We got back to watch the second half of England’s defeat to Wales in the Six Nations with Mum (Nanny) & Brian (Grandad) and then went for pizza and bowling in Finsbury Park. Jun came second to me and I took a pound off Joss for his unwise bet as he slipped to third.

Away at Home

Plymouth Argyle v Watford (FA Cup Quarter-Final)

Sunday 11^th March

This is the first Watford game we’ve missed this year. I’ve been in bed, then working, watching an exciting Chelsea v Tottenham draw, messing around on the computer, doing a little housework and watching England beat France in the Six Nations rather than spending that time sitting on one of the 10am coaches laid on free to the fans by the club to compensate for the six o’clock kick-off. It is not technically correct to say we’ve missed it as it is live on BBC1, but Joss is at his home and I am at mine. If it had been a Saturday, I would have given it more consideration.

As it is, I sit down with a smoke, a cold beer and a warm wife to a better view than the Rookery affords me. The Yellow Army seems sufficiently numerous at Home Park but this is a big day for Devon’s Green Army, loud and proud and hoping to avenge their semi-final exit to us in 1984, which has been much in the news in the run-up to the game, when my dad took me to Villa Park to see George Reilly head us into a first ever Wembley appearance. Apparently, years later the striker was viciously attacked by an assailant whose only comment was “Plymouth”.

We start brightly and have more of it than the team from the Championship and within twenty minutes Hameur Bouazza has swept a pass from Damien Francis in off the underside. Bootiful Boozer. Going behind galvanises Argyle, though, and they are the better team for the rest of the half, forcing a number of great saves from the returning Ben Foster. Watford seem to be playing for time from very early and the referee adds more than a minute to the official extra two. Not good BBC1 viewing, but I’d take a semi-final appearance over pretty defeat.

The second half was more of the same. I’m not sure I would have felt the same if I had been there, but sitting at home I was confident we could defend against everything they threw at us. We’d won 1-0 at West Ham and been outplayed by Ipswich in a win of the same scoreline, so it felt inevitable that we’d get to the 94^th minute without conceding despite their twenty or so attempts. Ben Foster, Danny Shittu and Jay Demerit were seaside rocks, “Watford” written all the way through them. Semi-final it is then, Watford’s third in five years. I’d love another 1-0, over Blackburn say, the only team definitely through so far: ManU™ drew at Boro), and an appearance at the new Wembley.

Off the bottom

Watford v Charlton Athletic

Saturday 3^rd March

I’ve given up on our Premiership status and also made a decision not to buy tickets for the FA Cup Quarter-Final being shown live at 6pm on SUNDAY, March 11^th. I told Joss yesterday when I phoned him to say I’d got tickets for the Spurs game. We will have managed fourteen in a row, which isn’t bad for a fair-weather-fan.

Cycle, train, cycle. Joss, predicting a defeat or a draw, let me in before I’d knocked and I played with Kasey and exchanged pleasantries with Trevor. Kerry and Phil were in bed. Pumped up Joss’ tyre and then Ebury Way-ed it. Joss managed, for the first time, to cycle the length of the long slope off Cardiff Road to the stadium, with me alongside. Lock up, queue, turnstile, programmes, seats, shout. There was stuff to get right behind from early in the game: we looked menacing. Gareth Williams started and was effective in moving the ball around and Tamas Priskin seemed sharp again, though fired a good early chance straight at their keeper.

Nevertheless, Hameur Bouazza had scored after quarter of an hour. Then Damien Francis, whose header from Priskin’s cross had been deflected into “Boozer’s” path for the first goal, got onto the end of a Tommy Smith pass for the second and we were laa-la-la-la-ing The Great Escape at 2-0 after twenty minutes. We rolled out all the usual: “Going down with the West Ham”, “That’s why you’re going down” and offered to sing a song for the visiting fans.

Boozer was on fine form and deservedly played the ninety minutes. His run from our half to the goal-line to cross deserved better than being missed by Priskin and Francis. It could have been three at the break but we had hot chocolate and felt okay. Off the bottom. Nineteenth is probably the highest we can finish, so lets celebrate it. Second-half chances for both sides came and went but our substitutions had a negative effect on the team’s performance and goals for the guys in black went in within minutes of each of the departures of Francis and Priskin for Johan Cavalli and Damien Francis respectively.

Again, the draw was greeted with boos by some elements of the Rookery and perhaps beyond. It is really unnecessary. Our performance today was relatively attractive and effective though we should not have sat back as we did. It does not warrant booing. Still, this period has been disappointing: two points from the three home games that included two “six-pointers”. Because West Ham don’t play Tottenham until tomorrow, we are off the bottom on goal difference for at least 24 hours.

We cycled back and practised Spanish and I took pics of Kasey on my phone, each of which appeared more out of focus than the last, before leaving after half and hour or so. Realised, in passing, that I should have played Joss at chess. I’ve already knocked over my king for the season.

It's fun to lose and to pretend

Watford v Everton

Saturday 24th February

I cycled to Euston, locked my bike there and tubed to Speakers Corner to give out CAAT London leaflets about our March 19^th protests at the No Trident/Troops Out/Don’t Attack Iran march from there to Trafalgar Square. Jun and her friend K came down and we walked together asking if people were interested. We probably gave out two hundred and fifty and I met a few activists I knew and some I’d seen emails from.

I do not support an immediate withdrawal from Iraq but felt happy to offer my support to those calling for a diplomatic solution to the stand-off with Iran. As for replacing Trident with Trident Two, much was made of the number of schools or hospitals we could build with the money we’ll waste on replacing our nuclear weapons before such a decision needs to be made. The Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, which the UK is a signatory to, calls for eventual disarmament and we are planning our nuclear weapons for the next generation. From Trafalgar Square and condemnations of UK foreign and domestic policy (the best was when a speaker suggested that British soldiers not be allowed to work anywhere they don’t speak the language, in an echo of government comments on “citizenship” in the UK), I got back to Euston and took my bike onto a new Silverlink train.

Kerry was in bed when I pulled up at four, and Joss didn’t come back until about twenty to five but it was the fact that I waited for the full-time results before we left that made us late for the game. The programme sellers were gone and we had to wait for half-time before we could buy them, by which time we were two goals down. In the twenty third minute, Richard Lee blocked a shot into the feet of two Everton strikers following up and Manuel Fernandez got there first. Within two minutes Andrew Johnson had sped through and been brought down for a penalty he converted. It was over and the Rookery was still warming up.

Most of the noise was reserved for Johnson, who may already have dived before we got there, calling him a cheat and lots of other names. Joss relished it and now faces back into the stand during the newly-adopted “We’re the front row,” geeing up the crowd but I stuck to facing forward and the Watford songs today. Tamas Priskin, brought on for Darius Henderson, made a lot of good opportunities for himself in the second half but none hit the target. Still, it was something to cheer.

We left early and were already cycling in the darkness of Cardiff Road when we heard a cheer that I took, correctly, it turned out, to be a third Everton goal in stoppage time. Charlton had thumped West Ham 4-0 earlier, so we know two of the three going down. Charlton must be feeling confident ahead of their visit to the Vic next Saturday. With one point out of our two home games this week, I am not.

Joss and I practised Spanish a bit before I headed back for Jun’s pasta and we went on to meet Julie and others in the Fullers pub on Tottenham Court Road near where we used to work. A pint there and we paid a fiver to get into the studenty Mean Fiddler for a bop on an empty dance floor before the band came on. Bussed it home for three and bought an early edition of the Observer that didn’t have our match report. I can just deny it.

That was the season that was

It’s been fun. I have, like so many before and with me, experienced these kinds of ups and downs before. I started supporting Watford in 1979 when my dad took me to a 2-2 draw with Rotherham in the old third division. Within the next 5 years I’d seen us beat all the big teams, come second in the league and make up the numbers at an F.A. Cup Final. A few years later we’d started much of the return journey. It’s been like that ever since, so obviously I’ve held out hope that we could scrape seventeenth this season. The Wigan game was one I said we must win before it was first played and abandoned. It was more obviously so today and a draw against ten men was a fair result.

That’s why we’re going down. Even against ten-man Ipswich at home in the FA Cup on Saturday there was only one beautiful piece of football, worthy of a Premiership team (from us at least). When I look back on the season so far, I see few others. Marlon King’s goal against West Ham in the opening home match; Ashley Young produced many of them before we sold him in January: runs and vision; Johan Cavalli looked like quality on his debut in the 1-0 victory in the Upton Park six-pointer, but has not shone in two half-games since. Hameur Bouazza has been up there and elsewhere, as has Tommy Smith. Our defence has stopped many good Premiership sides from getting onto the scoresheet, which speaks for itself about their quality as a unit. In my opinion, Ben Foster, who I regularly chant is “England’s number one”, has managed sublime (as in the double save that got him injured in the Wigan match) but has made a couple of costly mistakes too.

I am not on a witch-hunt. I disagreed with Steve Coppell when he said after Reading’s 0-0 draw at Watford’s Vicarage Road Stadium in early December, that commitment, effort and desire are ugly words. Watford have shown them aplenty and that is what the 12^th man responds to. I think they were only lacking significantly when Liverpool came to the Vic after their 6-2 hiding at home to Arsenal in the Carling Cup. We may have lost that game in the tunnel. A few fans have booed other patches of recent home performances against Bolton and Wigan. Not guilty.

I saw a comment on a West Ham site after our victory there ten days ago that conceded relegation for the Hammers, suggesting defeat by the worst ever team in the Premiership sealed it. I agree with half that sentiment. Charlton are dire and West Ham seem hardly to be functioning. They will both come down with us, statistics will decide the order of the fall. Watford may not be the worst team in the Premiership this year, let alone ever. We might be bottom of the league but three teams have lost more matches and five teams have conceded more goals. It’s just that no team has scored fewer.

On more than one occasion this season, our manager, Aidy Boothroyd, has used boxing similes to verbally portray Watford’s situation. “Muhammad Ali versus Jimmy Krankie” was just the most memorable. So, we have been punching above our weight. Not that well, though. If we can’t – at home – beat the only team it is statistically likely we could drag into the relegation battle should we have done so, and get off the bottom in the meantime, when they are down to ten men after 20 minutes, we are going down. I am throwing in the towel.

I know there are still thirty-three-theoretical points to play for and our season is far from over. The Wembley chants are not redundant yet, not with Plymouth away as our quarter-final draw, though I am not ruling out a “shock” on Sunday 11^th March from 6pm (?). We should probably notch up another two or three victories in the league too, especially with Charlton at the Vic in ten days. Nevertheless, I think I’ll be taking my nephew to Championship games again next year. At least there’ll be more league victories and goals. Yellow army! Yellow army!

Hasta luego

Watford v Wigan Athletic

Wednesday 21^st February

This has been the one. While the West Ham away match felt like it wouldn’t matter even if we won, it will if part of a run that includes victory today and against Charlton. I’ve had a strange feeling over the last few days, though, which evokes the Sheffield United defeat. Perhaps it’s the hope of an important victory. Maybe it will even become a good feeling. Back when the game was abandoned it felt like an important one to win, one we were going to win, but not like a six-pointer. Feel the power of that promise; I do.

Kerry walked Joss down and then took Dex around the stadium and home. We met, locked up and could hear Marlon King encouraging the fans to get behind the team and as soon as we got to our seats, a few minutes into the match, we started to give it our all. Joss mentioned beforehand that his head was alright and he shouted as much today as ever (he’s been quieter the last two matches). Wigan were good but I thought we looked like we wanted it more and when one of their players. Fitz Hall, got sent off for a two-footed tackle on Johan Cavalli after just 20 minutes, I was sure the six points were ours.

Doris Henderson poached one four minutes later to make it 1-0 and it was the icing on the rising cake. Hendo doubles his season’s tally in this match. When it matters. “Going down with the Charlton.” We joyously taunted. Then ten men broke through and Ben Foster made a fantastic double save that involved a challenge which left him injured and in need of attention. No keeper on the bench. “England’s number one” can’t walk properly or kick the ball. Adrian Mariappa takes three goal-kicks and something changes. Wigan break through again and Caleb Folan puts himself through and scores a good goal.

Something had changed. We were standing off, not passing well, not taking advantage of numbers but a few fans react too harshly. You can’t half-time-boo them at 1-1 against Wigan. Let’s get some sense of perspective. Anyway, as on Saturday, Hamuer Bouazza came on for Cavalli at half-time but didn’t produce anything telling. Hendo had a couple of good efforts go just over but they threatened too and a draw was fair. That’s why we’re going down…can’t beat 10 man-Wigan at home.

We did a little Spanish on the cycle ride home and went over stuff before he went to bed. Joss is clearly keen to be able to express himself in the language but hasn’t shown any enthusiasm for learning lists of words. So, we are practising questions and answers at the moment and his pronunciation is still improving. Not that mine is great but…Joss intende ensenar a Kerry un poco el espanol. I’ll have that checked before anyone reads it…