The fixture Gods had been kind enough to give us a home game. It was one of the reasons why I’d chosen to do every game this season. Not only do I want to do every game, I want to do it by public transport. No supporters coach (Official or otherwise) or lift in a car for me. Although it did get a bit close at Sunderland. The only problem today, would be finding somewhere to drink, as a lot of places would be shut. After a quick visit to Ladbrokes, I joined Jinksy and Dingle Dave in the Wellington. Not surprisingly, we got talking about Scottish football. Especially with how Hearts had smashed Celtic recently. There’s certainly not a lot of love lost for the Cesspits between us. Russell came in eating something slimy from a tub. The lad certainly has an appetite. J.K. was next in, Irish Independent in hand as usual. We were joined by Darrell in his trainers. It’s still strange seeing them on him. He says they’re comfy, this, I’ve no doubt, but they wouldn’t look more out of place, if they were high heels. Steve finally landed, with tales of sharing a bus into town with passengers straight off the plane. Them and a million suitcases. Including a couple who were trying to get back to Ludlow. A feat that’s not easy on a normal day, but on Boxing day, nigh on impossible. I haven’t had the best of times with traveling just lately and that was to carry on, but to not know there wasn’t any trains on a Boxing day, was a bit naive. Boxing day is the first day that things start to get back to normal. For two months, you put up with hearing Christmas songs everywhere you go. Remember when you last heard a Christmas song on Boxing day? Great isn’t it? No? So it’s just my ears that relaxes then. I’m not the only one that is all Christmased out, Russell is exactly the same. Like me, he feels it gets in the way. We battled through the sales crowds to the Spotted Dog. Nick, the Rangers lad and Spoons were in the garden. Aida landed. We got talking about how Spoons and Badger get mistaken for one another. Mind you, they are very similar. One is tall, white and has long hair. The other is small, black and completely bold. I can see how people can get them mixed up. Aida enquired, if you had two badgers, would you have a set to? I groaned. I actually love a good play on words. We got talking about how we both work with some dumb people for whom a play on words is lost. Yet another person who hates where he works. It was soon time to drag ourselves to the game. Both us and the Villa fans are still getting searched before we go through the turnstiles at a home game. I’m really sick of it now. If there was a security issue, it’s certainly not there anymore. The steward who frisked me, had no sense of humour whatsoever. If watching what I’m having to put up with wasn’t bad enough, having to go through being frisked every home game, isn’t adding to the matchday experience. Especially if the person doing it is miserable.
We started brightly. Then it went downhill. Norwich scored with a clever move. Not that it needed to be that clever, so it was wasted on us. This was another game where we never looked like scoring. It wasn’t for the want of shooting. The shots however, were hopeless at best, dangerous to the crowd behind the goals at worst. The middle opened up for Norwich to waltz through and score the second. Time for most of the crowd to exit. I didn’t blame them. We can’t score one, let alone two. According to Steve Cotterill, we’re moving slowly forward. Moving forward? Like an asthmatic snail climbing a very steep hill carrying heavy bags of shopping. I managed to suffer a bit more mental torture before another woeful shot from Blues finished me off.
I didn’t bother going back to the Dog. With a long and eventful trip up to Edinburgh courtesy of Cross Countries strike on the cards the next day, I wanted to get stuff sorted.