Having seen Bath City play on Good Friday, I was left with a free Saturday for the first time in a while. My dad’s neighbour, a die hard Bristol City fan, was away on holiday for the Easter break so lent us his pair of season tickets, so we could go to Ashton Gate and see the second best team in the West Country.
I hadn’t been to Ashton Gate for four whole years before this weekend; my last visit being in 2006 for a then League One fixture against Nottingham Forest. Ironically, Forest were City’s opponents again, however this time it was in The Championship.
I wouldn’t say Bristol City are my second team, or even my third, let’s call them my fourth team… basically I have a soft sport for them, prefer them to Bristol Rovers and wish them well. Therefore, I was able to join in with the vocal home fans in supporting the team, however didn’t have the anxiety and worry I usually experience while watching Bath, Leeds or England.
We arrived at the game relatively early. With limited parking spots around Ashton Gate and being very much non-regulars to the stadium, we wanted to allow enough time to get to the ground. I was assured, as season ticket holders we would be allowed access to the members only bar, where we would dine upon caviar and champagne…. OK, maybe a cheeseburger and a pint of Blackthorn.
Upon entering the ground and working out how to use the season ticket card scanner, we realised we could not find the elusive drinking venue. After searching the whole of The Dolman Stand and being questioned by a rather suspicious steward, we came to the conclusion that the member’s bar was actually outside the turnstiles.
Not wanting to risk going in and out of the turnstiles and past the scary electronic card scanner, we decided it best to eat with the everyday folk. This actually turned out to be OK. I went for a Chicken Balti Pukka Pie. Being at a West Country football club, I probably should have ordered a pasty, but living very much in the South West myself, I have frequent access to fresh supplies of pasties anyway.
The pie was ‘gert lush’ as they would say at Ashton Gate. I will pass on my findings to Bath City and suggest they start selling such delicacies themselves. Should they take up my idea, expect me to be a few hundred quid worse of and a stone heavier come 2011.
Now the boring bit… the match report. I’ll keep this brief. I am fully aware that not all of you who read my blog actually like football and if you have come this far, well done indeed!
Bristol City and Nottingham Forest drew 1-1. The same scoreline as my last visit in 2006. Both goals were of top quality. There was controversy late on when Foreset substitute, Nathan Tyson, took out Brizzle’s goalkeeper, Dean Gerkin (yes, like the thing you find in your Big Mac).
There was handbags, angry fans and a stretcher for Mr. Gerkin. The home faithful were justifiably angry, with one supporter behind me shouting in a broad Bristolian accent “If Tyson scores, I will run on the pitch and knock him out”. The unnerving thing being, I believed him.
I did enjoy my trip to Ashton Gate. Hopefully it won’t be another four years before I get to see Bristol City again.
I had a Pukka Pie for dinner last night – it was foul. The last time I had one was after football, when I had drank a couple of pints, thus increasing my appetite and tolerance of crap food. Last night I was sober and did not enjoy the pie at all. I think I’ll stick to The Pieminister from now on – they’re delicious.
I was pleased to discover that my local supermarket has started to sell Pukka Pies – the kind you could only previously find in Northern England chip shops and at certain football grounds. Needing to spend £5 in order to claim cashback, I decided to add a Chicken & Mushroom pie to my shopping basket – shame there wasn’t any Chicken Balti ones like you used to find at Elland Road. 20 minutes in the oven – very nice!
Something not so tasty is the new Heinz Tomato Soup. For some reason, they thought it clever to add basil to the recipe. Now, fresh basil in soup is lovely, but from a tin in processed form is not. The whole meal was ruined and poured down the sink. It just goes to show, if it’s not broken, don’t fix it.
This is a very quick blog, mainly because I want to get it uploaded before midnight in order to continue the recent tradition of blogging daily. :o)
Tonight I went out on a social night with work colleagues to The Raven pub in town, a place I have never been to before but think I will certainly go to again. The atmosphere is nothing special, neither is the building work or choice of drinks. What The Raven pub can pride itself in is its selection and quality of pies.
Think about the best pie you have ever tasted and then think of it being even better, they are just beautiful. I am sure I can persuade my friend Mr. Watkins, the South West’s chief connoisseur of everything pie to go with me.
After munching on all our pies we all headed off to another pub where we just sat and talked long until the evening about work, football and whatever else people discuss in pubs. I made an escape around 11.30ish to find a taxi. Not having any transport or wanting to walk back home alone for fear of being arse raped meant that I had to be driven.
When I go to town on a night out I normally order a taxi. This evening, not knowing when I would want to leave and also not having the certain danger of a drunken and abusive Mr. White I decided against it. Ordering a taxi at 23:34 on a Friday night is just pointless, especially after a music event which made the streets of Bath even busier.
I joined a massive queue of drunken people all using the taxi rank barriers and each other to keep themselves from falling over and smashing their heads on the pavement. I had only drunk a small amount (I rarely drink in excess – honest!) so was able to observe their strange behaviour like Louis Theroux in one of his documentaries nd when a bunch of lager filled louts came stumbling by shouting and singing I wasn’t scared at all…
OK… I’ve finished this blog and it’s 00:16. I’m putting down the blog time of 23:56 though. Let the daily blogs continue!
On this website, you’ll find me blogging (almost) daily about everyday life, living in Bath, working with computers, and the occasional bit of football stuff thrown in.
If you're expecting The Man Booker Prize, you've come to the wrong place. If you want to read a collection of sometimes eccentric, often disturbing and rarely amusing ramblings, gorge your eyes on this.