A Tale Of Gasheads And Drunken Northerners

Last night Simon and I attended the Bath City/Bristol Rovers pre-season friendly game. It was a strange match, especially the first half, where the referee was very poor indeed. Rovers scored many goals, most of which were from an offside position, or with the help of the “hand of God”. Therefore the first half result is void, and only the second 45 minutes applied.

Bath won the second half, or as I like to remember it, the whole match 2-1 with two amazing goals. Well done City! You are worthy champions!

After the game, we both went to the clubs bar, Charlie’s for a drink of local ale and cider, before heading home.

As I lay in bed, trying to get to sleep, my phone started ringing. I answered it, only to be greeted by a drunken northerner – my Hull based, Leeds supporting friend. Amidst the drunken northern slurs, I made out references to “pizza”, “meeting Ian Holloway in a bar”, “southern bastard”, and the chant “Leeds! Leeds! Leeds!”