I know it’s been a few days since my last blog, so you’re probably all dying to read how Bath City did against Shortwood in the FA Cup. The good news is, they won 3-1. The moaners were not there, which meant Bath City played truly superb football. I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said the famous Brazilian national side from 1970 would have struggled against The Romans on Tuesday night. Yes, City were only playing Shortwood, and yes, they did let in a goal against them, but that’s neither here nor there – the point is, they are through to the next round, where they will play East Thurrock United – another team for Accrington Stanley fans to ask “who are they?”.

A special mention for the stand, which I spotted in the ground. Sadly, this isn’t named after the recently retired referee of the same name; although I have it on good authority that a Howard Webb Stand will be built at Old Trafford in time for next season…

Last night, Claire and I went out for a lovely evening meal at Frankie and Bennys. Apparently, Bath has had one of these restaurants for some time, so we thought it would be good to visit. We’ve been to the one in Bristol before. The food has always been good, but I found it rather annoying how every five minutes, they would turn the lights off and sing ‘happy birthday’ to a diner, celebrating getting a year older. As well as getting irritated by this, I found myself worried that, for some reason, would think it was my birthday, even if it wasn’t, and start singing to me. Luckily, there was no singing in the Bath branch. Obviously the waiters, waitresses and general clientele and more refined than those in Bristol.

Something which did perturb me was the toilets. While reliving myself into one of the urinals, I overheard, what I thought to be somebody talking to themselves in one of the cubicles. I was a little scared. Given the fact I was urinating and mid-flow, I had little choice but to stay standing, while a madman and my potential killer carried on speaking to their imaginary friend/split personality, just meters away from me. While washing my hands – yes, I still maintained hygiene, despite the fact I was moments away from being murdered – I realised to my relief that it wasn’t a crazy serial killer after all. No, it was a recording of somebody trying to learn Italian. You see Frankie and Bennys is an American-Italian restaurant , and naturally all Yanks wishing to learn Italian do so on the shitter – apparently Marlon Brando did this in preparation for his role in The Godfather.

Anyway, toilet talk aside, Claire and I had a really nice evening and promised ourselves we would go back. Hopefully next time, I’ll be more prepared when visiting the bathroom – I may even pick up some Italian!

While we were wined and dined, Leeds United players were slugging themselves around a football pitch, some 200 miles north of Bath in Rotherham. The game was televised, but in an act of true love, I picked Claire over LUFC. Later that evening, after arriving home, I watched what I had recorded of the match. Of course I wasn’t going to sit through nearly two hours of boredom if I could avoid it, so I started to fast forward through the game. I began on x2 speed. Then I got bored, so increase to a steady x6. Leeds scored a very good goal, which I rewound and watched in normal time, before reverting to x6 again. Later on, Rotherham scored. How predictable. That was it. My finger tapped the fast forward button, and I watched as 22 men ran all over a football pitch, quicker than a roller-skate-wearing Usain Bolt on speed. Rotherham scored again and won 2-1. Despite how quick everything was moving, I was still able to catch a glimpse of Rotherham’s vile manager, Steve Evans. I remember that man from his managerial days at Crawley, when Bath City played them. If you think I’m being harsh on the bloke, search the internet (or even the BBC News pages) for his name and read up on his interesting past…

I read a funny tweet about Evans, which commented on the fact had sweated more during the game than any of his players.