No evidence of the big match when I arrived at St Pancras either. I started to think that I had got the day wrong or something. I arrived at Marylebone and saw a number of drunken Jacks. Fortunately I managed to steer well wide of them.
The Beehive in Marylebone is a nice little pub. Indeed, any pub that
only charges 1.50 for a shot of 18 yr old Glenmorangie is fine by me.
It was just about right for the numbers of Cobblers that were to turn
up. Rob, Ian (Saudi Cobbler), Dave and Emily were there (plus loads
not from the email list) , so we
snatched a snap or two before I headed for Wembley.
I found the meeting point, and jealously saw Ray in his signed authentic match shirt. The Ians from Swansea and Canada were there too. It's always nice to put names to faces. More snaps were taken, and then I headed off in search of my Dad and more importantly my ticket.
I was a bit disappointed that all the Cobblers merchandise had been sold long before I arrived at the ground. I wouldn't have minded a t-shirt. But even that didn't dampen the sense of anticipation that was welling up inside me.
The area outside the Stadium was immersed in a carnival atmosphere. Faces were painted, everyone had broad grins, I even saw a pantomime camel (or was it a horse? - who cares?)
The teams came out and were greeted with fireworks. Quite a nice touch, although the resultant smoke did rather obscure the view of the players. The national anthems were a bit of a fiasco. The Welsh anthem was booed loudly, and I didn't even hear our anthem until the last three lines.
The teams kicked off, and it was hard to spot any pattern to the play. Scrappy and nervous, I knew the game was going to be torture. After 3 minutes, a swivelling volley was tipped over by Woody. A superb save that he was clearly pleased with. Honours were pretty much even in the first half. Both sides had chances. Our best came when Larry dispossesed 'fat' Molby and put Parrish through. With the ball heading away from the goal, a defender chasing and the keeper advancing, Parrish did well to slot the ball past the keeper with his left foot. We all thought it was in, but about a yard from the line a defender cleared the ball to another defender who knocked it to the keeper. Could have been unintentional, but I thought it was worth a shout for a back-pass.
We switched from 5-3-2 to 4-4-2, and we didn't look comfortable. Half-time came, and I hoped Atkins could sort it out.
The second half was worse. I felt that we were letting ourselves be dominated. Cardiac Arrest was narrowly avoided when the ball was allowed to skid across the face of the goal 5 yrds out. Fortunately, no-one was on hand to put Swansea into the lead. Chris Lee came very close with a header, as did Swansea.
My nerves were getting raw as we approached the end of the game. Knowing our propensity for conceeding goals in the last minute I was very worried. When Chris Lee was fouled 25 yrds out, my first thought was "At least we're not going to lose it in the last minute". Then I was struck with the crazy notion that we might score from the free-kick. Well, you all know what happened next.
Back, up the M1, scarf out of the window, Atkins on Radio 5, the feeling of camaraderie with other Cobblers fans on the motorway. What could be better? Not much matey!
Went home, got drunk, went to bed. Happy. Sunday was strange, seeing the highlights (crap highlights prog) on Anglia reminded me of the game, but the impression the tv gave was not as I remember the match. But then again, when the advert break is longer than the highlights of the game (well almost), what do you expect?
The weather was superb on Monday. I got to the market square nice and early. I saw Paul Knowlton about an hour before the parade, and we agreed that this was payback for all the crap we've watched this season. Then I wandered around a bit more and saw Ray. Ray had cunningly found a great vantage point, so I stayed with him, camera at the ready.
