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Millwall Weekend Beer-Blog


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Apologies firstly for my appallingly late Blogging. Pre-Lent training took a toll on me, I am now however a new man. Anyway, the games been written about so just some random weekend ramblings.


Up from London on Friday night after work, on my own so no group foolery. Mr Branston was up to his usual tricks, so I arrived late and angry. And hammered. I’m not averse to a booze on the train, and only had 5 days to go before my self imposed Doom of giving it up for the 40 days of Lent, so wasn’t going to waste a second.


So, after being picked up from Stockport and driven back to sunny Rochdale (handy) I got an early night, pausing only to go to the local for 6 or so of JW Lees delicious nightcaps.


Next morning, I sprang out of bed, ran 10 miles and climbed a mountain. Down to the Greyhound for some Lees, and to pick up a Tangerine scarf. Perfectly timed for one T-shirt wearing drinking weather, had a few outside with Maddog, my mate and fellow exile Will (and his scary young niece) and some dodgy looking characters who were hanging around in a large group outside Mark’s scarf shop, including surely the most oddly named user on any Latics MB, Mark’s mate Burgerdart.


First half I was dumbfounded to hear people shouting abuse at Porter. My brother (Luke Beckett’s Anchor) was also saying it to me all the time but I realised that he had realised how much it was winding me up and was stirring. I followed one volley of abuse by shouting, “Yeah Porter, 20 goals, you’re Flipping Rubbish,” or summat like that, the culprit piped down after that.


Half time – chaos in the Royle Bar. Now everyone knows its one in one out I fear a disaster waiting to happen tomorrow. Hope the club do something, anything about it. Hibs fans in the ground? V Millwall? Hmm, put 2 and 2 together over that one quickly enough.


Second half – happy, sad, gutted. Wobblebottom lino shocking.


Royle bar post match, full of usual suspects, with a frisson of excitement as rumours spread of an exchange of views between a moderator on here and a prolific poster elsewhere.


The post-match booze up was organised and executed with military precision. As in, it was like the Grand Old Duke of York had planned it, with the walk from the Mare to the Hart and back taking the place of up and down the Hill. We were encouraged to leave the Mare due to some rowdy elements singing traditional folk songs. Get bent, Mr Man City Landlord. Eventually the forces united in the White Hart. Memories are hazy (hence I’m not even going to try and list who I met for the first time, but there were lots), but I seem to remember that General Rummy’s smile and general deportment suggested he was pleased with his lot in life at that moment, Mark was rattling, Chickers was steaming, Maddog was in a parallel universe of beer-addled happiness, and was it Burgerdart who was the most mullahed of us all? I had drank myself sober by then so was witty and lucid. And probably handsome as well, or so I’d have believed. Next time we will have an Events Organiser so it will all flow like water, possibly up and down a hill again.


Nothing remained but to get the beer scooter home, knock my dad up as I realised that my house keys were in London, pass out, get up, get ready, have an early lunch, then down South by means of 5 pints of Lees, a bus (complete with horrid screaming 10 year old Manc mother with 2 kids), a tram, a train, a nice glass (bottle) of wine, an underground, a train and a bus. But what should I have spotted out of the corner of my eye in Man Picc but a bright Tangerine scarf? Attached to which was Mark, looking ever so slightly less full of beans than he had the night before. He had to change on the way back, God knows which of us made it back indoors first, think I got indoors at about midnight, ready to sleep the sleep of the dead.


I’m now all excited to find out what it’s like to see Latics sober. It’s a frightening thought, thank God it’s this season I’m trying it and the last one (or under Colin or Wadsworth, or… You get the picture).


Onwards and Upwards!

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