I missed the first goal for Gorleston. I was running fashionably late, as ever. It didn’t help that the bloody Dropbox app has had a redesign. My Wiv season ticket is stored in there, with a very handsome snap of me BEAMING away. I scrambled around in the car park with my phone, trying to find the file. Arse. I blagged it in instead.
I was halfway around my usual photo walk of the ground when I thought of asking the friendly lady who sits in the corner on her own what the score is. I pretended that I hadn’t heard that Wivenhoe were already 1-0 down.
I put a shifty on with my photo walk. The Broad Lane skies were bruising. We were in for a soaking. I managed to see the Dragons equalise with a penalty. My celebrations had barely finished when Gorleston went down the other end and scored a second. Hey hoe.
And so 2-1 down at HT, and I had to do a runner. The Rebs were tipping off up at the University at 4pm. I made the strategic decision of watching half a game of hit and miss game of football, rather than walk in midway through a full on basketball game.
A brief scroll through the phone at the basketball, and yep, the FT score back at Broad Lane remained 2-1. Watching ninety minutes of football is overrated, Comrades.
