Away Days - Droylsden in the Cup

The Romance of the Cup - Droylsden Away!

After a couple of ciders the night before, I was woken up by the alarm clock (my little girl). I grabbed my phone to check the time and saw that it was 8am, Saturday 14^th September… FA Cup day!

After fulfilling my husband/daddy duties which involved a morning of changing nappies (including my own), making bacon butties for all, washing up and nipping to the shops, I was ready for the off. 

My day pass had been earned!

The wife had kindly offered to drop me at the Nags Head for the 11 am rendezvous, picking Lord Semp up along the way. Before getting out of the car Helen (that’s what I call the wife) gave Semp a clear instruction: “Make sure he doesn't get wasted!” 

So in the Nags Head we went where we were greeted with some handshakes and some “alrights.” My bacon butty had barely been digested before I was washing it down with a cold pint of Cider. It was 11:03. At this point Semp had mentioned he hadn't even had breakfast, he then took a sip of his Cider (or lemonade if Lynda is reading).  What better breakfast is there than what is actually an apple smoothie when you break it down?

“Here’s the coach” someone shouted. With that, I downed the rest of my pint and excitedly got on the coach. 

Oh and by the way, the sun was shining. It was going to be a good day!

40 Minutes or so later, we arrived in Costa del Droylsden. After waiting for what felt like an hour for the little green man to let us cross the road, we headed for The Beehive. The look on the one man’s face who was sat enjoying a quiet pint whilst reading his newspaper when 30 odd people and one ‘Terry from Brookside impersonator’ came pouring in was priceless!

It was my round and another 2 Strongbows were swiftly ordered, and swiftly drank as I tried to keep up with Semp! (Again if Lynda is reading, Strongbow is just what I call Lemonade and when I say swiftly, I mean taking our time.)

Two (more) ciders later and the warm up act was about to kick off… United v Crystal Palace. I was sat next to Sempy at the back of what was now effectively the Nags Head (minus Little Dave serving). Our view mainly consisted of this:

It didn’t matter too much as we spent most of the match nattering on about all things Trafford FC. I did manage the odd glimpse and saw a few Ashley Young dives and two United goals. At some point during the game I went round the pub asking people for a quid for the opportunity to guess the attendance for today’s other, more important game. I guessed 223.

The elder Hornby had arranged with the lovely people at the Beehive that we would be taking their pub over, so they kindly put on a spread of butties and chips!

These were quickly demolished, along with 2 more ciders, now 6 in total and it had just gone 2:30. 

Now it was the main event! A quick 2 minute walk and into the ground we were. I know we’d just left the Beehive so it was no surprise that there was a massive buzz around the Trafford fans (haha sorry, I couldn’t resist!). 

Off behind the goal next to the very quiet Droylsden fans we went.

As we were missing our usual chief song conductor, Matt Brown, duties were taken up by myself and Ashley, who decided that it was down to us that we went in a half time 2 up. Who am I to disagree?!

Half time and another cider came and went. The second half had already kicked off before we’d settled at the side of the pitch near the end we were now shooting. It wasn’t long before some of the Droylsden fans could now be heard shouting something nice like F**k off Trafford (on repeat). Maybe it was because I’d had 7 pints or maybe because I’m stupid, most probably both, but I decided to suggest “Can you hear them? Shall we go back over and start singing?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised when no-one put their hands up… but then Dave Hornby piped up and said “yeah, let’s go over!”  Now, when Helen told Sempie to make sure I didn’t get wasted, not letting me get beat up wasn’t what she meant but I’m sure she didn’t want that either!

Anyway, over we went and Trafford FC is what we shouted. The Droylsden fans suddenly went quiet. Dave lasted about 15 minutes before making his way to the other side of the pitch. I was now on my own but I kept singing (shouting). To be fair, the banter with the Droylsden fans was good. The only time they did shout anything was to slag off their own players rather than heckle me. Droylsden (the team) did manage to pull a goal back. 1-2 and game on… or so I thought. “It’s 3-1 mate!” Someone informed me. I’d somehow missed Shelton get his hat-trick putting us 3-0 up (so it was now 1-3. Following?).

2 more goals form Shelton and a penalty save from Tommy Read made it a day to remember and by the full-time whistle I had the stand to myself, minus my voice.

Two more ciders, a tweet from Robbie Savage hailing Trafford FC as his non-league team of the day and one from Jonny Escott of some artwork in a Droylsden toilet and it was time for me to head off into town to meet the wife where she would pass judgment on whether Sempie had made sure I’d not got wasted.

He failed.

P.S. The attendance was 186.

Ratings:

Game: 10... 5-1 away win and a peanalty save!

Ground: 6

Programme: No idea

Food: If by food, you mean Cider then 10. Tasted great with a victory

Fans: 6 (good banter, but no noise)

Value For Money: 10 but only because we won!

Referee: Couldn’t care less… we won!

My Man of the Match: Shelton Payne, 5 star!

by Andy Glinka