 |
FULHAM vs. Burnley
Tuesday February 9th, 2010
Kick-off: 3pm EST, 2pm CST
CRAVEN COTTAGE
TV:
FSC - Live
3 PM EST
|
|
[Access Forum] | | | | FORUM STATISTICS | | | Total | Daily | | Topics: | 6583 | | 3.53 | | Users: | 1185 | | 0.63 | | Posts: | 76749 | | 41.11 |
|
|
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
|
|
| You can hardly blame the travelling few for having a wobble in faith. It was going to be very hard to have a better day than Reading and two successive away wins (especially with a battering from Plod to fill the sandwich) would be hard to imagine. Statistically it would be our first double in four and a half years. I wavered all week whether to give away my ticket and my place on the coach with Wendy and Brian. Keefy is still travelling and everyone else was blowing hot and cold as well. Then Mikey's parents arrived in the UK and, bless them, they were in no doubt at all. An away trip to see Fulham was top of their list with the Imperial War Museum and the V&A firmly in second and third places. We carefully described the frozen North, the awfulness of the British Motorway (especially the catering) and quoted the stats but nothing could abate Joe's determination to travel with the Fulham faithful.
|
|
Keefy left the big car with Katy for ferrying round her in-laws so, intending to share the driving, I abandoned Brian and Wendy to the Motspur Park coach and we all piled into the car for four hours of motorway traffic roulette. Joe breathed an audible sigh of relief as we left the country lanes ('yeah but what happens if we meet something coming the other way?') and found the M25 to be far more his sort of road.
With Keefy's good luck Ferrari from Fletch firmly blue-tacked to the dashboard, and following a hearty 'condemned man type' breakfast, we set off into the bluebell strewn, blossoming English countryside. Alas we met a Maserati almost straight away (goal for the opposition) which did nothing to help the jitters Mikey and I were experiencing. Neither were we cheered by the commentary on talksh!te. I have no idea why we listen to that station but it has become an indispensable part of the away trip torture, rather like poking toothache. Shortly after the Maserati we met a huge canal barge on a low loader and Katy and I joked that something as unusual as that on the motorway had to be worth at least three away goals. Oh how we laughed at that impossibility as we patted the Ferrari for luck.
The sun shone down on green fields, the acidic yellow of rapeseed and the burgeoning white cherry blossoms. Katy wished audibly that she'd let me drive and stayed home to sunbathe. Cathy was ecstatic at the bluebells in the woods near Beaconsfield and the lambs skipping in the fields. Red Kites rode the thermals above the M40 as we came through the chalk cliffs of the escarpment into Oxfordshire and two white gliders rose gracefully from the airfield in front of us.
We stopped for coffee at Cherwell Valley but to our disappointment there was no Alan Hansen in the car park this time. Recaffeinated and well stocked with sandwiches and goodies from the M&S Food to Go we piled in the car for the long crawl through Birmingham. Katy proved she wasn't her Fathers daughter for nothing and refused to relinquish the wheel so I went back to navigating and managed to find the M6 toll without incident. This was most definitely Joe's kind of road, wide, well surfaced and empty but unfortunately he had dozed off and missed the best that England has to offer on the Highway front.
A call from the coach, which was well ahead of us, revealed that Brian was also sleeping soundly after an exhausting evening setting up an alternative therapy event for one of Wendy's charities. Alternative therapy is definitely not his bag and he was still a bit traumatized by all the rubber tubing and equipment he had carried in for one of the therapists.
Our American guests got to see the outskirts of Manchester and parts that most tourists (thankfully) don't see. Not much improved by the sunshine the rows of old mill cottages and boarded up shops crowded the sides of the busy city roads interspersed with the ugliest modern council housing imaginable. Joe was wide awake now, wincing at the near misses of city driving as I navigated Katy through the crowded and dirty streets.
With only three loops round the roundabout which led onto the elevated A57 we were soon passing through the rows of red brick factories and warehouses until the 'Big Bang' appeared on our right hand side. The sculpture stands about 30 feet high and is an explosion of rusty metal pipes from a central star - it has an odd kind of beauty when seen in silhouette against the sky but framed against the stadium merely adds to the clutter of wire fencing and temporary buildings skirting the apron. Built for the Commonwealth games there is better than average parking with many access gates however, rather defeating the objective, most of these were closed and heavily guarded by yellow clad stewards. The only open entrance turned out to be the players car park but a charming black stewardess allowed us in to turn round and directed us back to the away parking area. We were happy to see (and not hit) the Ferrari in our turning space. After viewing the Big Bang from a third elevation we eventually found the vast area of unmarked rubble designated for away fans.
Inside the concourse the fans were strangely subdued yet tense and it was a very different atmosphere to Reading where the singing was in full carnival swing right from the off. The Man City fans on the other side of the partition taunted us with a couple of choruses of 'Going down with the Derby' and there were standard responses from our younger supporters, including the predictable 'we pay your benefits' (an old North South divide controversy) and 'You're scouse with a bit less class.' (Manchester is a nearish neighbour to Liverpool and they are not great fans of each other).
Reunited with Brian and Wendy I found we had three great seats towards the back of the stand. It's a very pleasant looking modern stadium with a spiky crown of white webbed supports. The top of each side is a long curve of blue giving a softer edge to the roofline and access to the upper stands is from the ground floor as the pitch is sunk below ground access level. The jitteriness which Mikey and I had been feeling all day was clearly the common mood and the FFC players and fans seemed equally unsettled. The singing was sporadic and edgy and mainly abused the home fans rather than supporting our players - only the Bullard song rang out clear and loud.
We played well, a good shot by Dempsey and a couple of good saves by Hart. We were attacking and moving well but nervously and without conviction. The fans sang but each song died out quickly and we couldn't sustain the support - I was glad of the hard core choir at the back who kept going even though most seemed unable to join in.
Irelands first goal against us was a great shot and didn't particularly dismay either fans or players but the second goal was down to very poor defending and we could almost see it coming. We kept going but heads were down, our singing became even edgier and turned to more abuse of the Citeh fans and there was stone in the pit of my stomach. Brian remarked darkly that he'd given up the chance of colonic irrigation for this and Wendy was uncharacteristically quiet. It was hard to find any comfort and beside me a young fan sat hunched in her seat turning up both her collar and her ipod - I knew how she felt. At half time it got worse, Bolton and Birmingham were winning and Sunderland and Wigan looked like they had reached safety as well.
At the beginning of the second half we had gone through despair and come out the other side into fatalism. The singing improved........ 'We're losing away, we're losing away, don't think you're special, we're losing away' was followed by 'good time in Blackpool, we'll have a good time in Blackpool'. A man in the back bellowed out at the fans in the front to stand up and sing 'Get behind the lads they need you' and a loud chorus of 'Viva el Fulham' and 'Can't take my eyes off of you' was matched by two good chances on goal and some acrobatic saves by Hart.
The singing got louder as Kamara came on. There was a convergence of hope from fans and players and the atmosphere perceptibly changed. Shortly afterwards Kamara slipped his shot between Harts legs and a great roar went up from FFC. Roy and the bench sprang up and the players mobbed Kamara. Mike Dean (trying to make amends?) awarded a free kick to Bullard and by now we were really filling our lungs and belting out the song. Nevland came on and their defence was in shambles as they tried to deal with him finally resorting to bundling him over as a great pass from Konchesky came in. Mike Dean pointed to the spot and the young fans at the front went wild, leaping over the empty seats between us and the Citeh stand. A collective gasp as Murphy's penalty was saved and a huge sigh of relief as he calmly put away the spillage - we went wild. A woman from two rows back arrived next to me and we only just managed to catch her and push her back up without injury. Brian gathered up Wendy and I in a huge bear hug and the young lads behind me joined in. The noise was phenomenal and several songs were sung at once which made for an unintelligible but definitely audible salute to the lads.
They threw everything forward - Keller (lovehimhughimsqueezehimandcallhimCasey) saved us twice from the backlash and Petrov did his best to get back his game but our defence managed to hold on by their fingernails as everyone else surged forward in a desperate bid for the extra two points. When Murphy's beautiful ball from the side of his foot put Kamara through my heart was in my mouth and as he surged towards us I couldn't believe he wasn't going to sky it or fluff the shot. The ball slotted neatly home in an echo of Nevland at Reading two weeks before and almost to the minute.
The Fulham fans erupted - everyone hugging and crying - in front of us Mikey staggered and almost passed out from sheer emotion - Joe and Cathy were jumping up and down and screaming with the rest. The whistle blew almost immediately and the players again came over to the fans almost straight away though the stewards tried to prevent them from reaching us. Jimmy Bullard did a determined side step as he insisted on throwing his shirt himself and we laughed and loved him for it.
The Manchester City staff put out the victory podiums for their last home game parade but their hearts were clearly not in it - the few remaining Citeh fans were forced to watch our celebrations as they waited for their own players to rejoin them. The sun was still shining but we had well and truly rained on their parade.
Outside the Sky news camera team were attempting a sensible interview but were mobbed by screaming youngsters (and Katy). Joe and Cathy appeared at the exit doors and his beaming face said it all, this was an experience he had waited many long years for and he almost couldn't believe how good it was. The police made us wait at the barrier to let some of the City fans clear and I don't think the chorus from the coaches of '2-0 and you f*ck*d it up' were helping inter fan relationships so of course there was trouble with stone throwing and spitting as the coaches departed. Safe in the car we waited for ages as eight lanes of cars tried to converge into two through only one open exit gateway - Katy headed for a brand new and shiny Porsche who unsurprisingly gave way and let her through - ah the advantages of driving something large and conspicuously NOT shiny.
On the slow crawl back to the M56 Manchester United fans hurled abuse at the cars with Manchester City flags and got back as good as they gave.
We sat in smug satisfaction with the remains of our M&S picnic and sporadic happy bursts of 'Did you see......' and 'What about when.....' interspersed with happy calls and texts from fellow fans. We even turned talksh!te on for a while ....... just so we could hear them grovel...............
Note: by FulhamUSA member and local SW6 Fulham Supporter 'WhiteWitch'
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
Posted by: WhiteWitch on Sunday, April 27, 2008 - 07:48 AM
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
| The Witch Report : Manchester City Away: A Ferrari on the Dashboard | Log-in or register a new user account | 0 Comments |
|
| Comments are statements made by the person that posted them.
They do not necessarily represent the opinions of the site editor. |
|
|
