Gers wrote:
That was one of the most miserable experiences I can remember since I started following this team. I was absolutely fucking frozen. I get that technically my seat is actually below ground, but yesterday was the coldest I can remember feeling at any ground since I started going to matches. Which I was reliably informed by my late father was 1966. I can’t blame Sweeting for the weather, but by fuck was I cold.
I went to Lewington’s before the match, and sadly I’ve come to the conclusion that it would be better if that place was shut down. It’s fucking rubbish now. Gone are the halcyon days of last season. It’s nothing short of a wind tunnel, and it was so cold in there that I couldn’t get warm no matter what I tried, and basically that set the tone for the rest of the afternoon.
Bar the 5 seconds where we had 5 shots at their goal, which they somehow miraculously stopped from going in, we had absolutely nothing. At one point in the second half we were attacking their goal (I’m using ‘attacking’ under advisement here). Somehow, Ipswich had nine outfield players in defence. If you include the ‘keeper, they had ten players defending against our three attackers. Now, obviously Ipswich aren’t the sort of team to sit back on a one-nil lead. So what does that say about the way they were organised? It says that not only have they got better players than us, it also says that they’re better coached. It’s sadly looking like Jackson isn’t the man that can get us out of the mess Sweeting has landed us in. At one point during one of Ipswich’s many attacks, their ‘keeper was doing star-jumps to try and keep warm as he had fuck all else to do.
Folk began leaving on the 74th minute. Not just a few drips and drabs, loads of folk. Up out of their seats and heading for the exit, and the warmth of anywhere but stadium:mk. I went to the loo on the 80th minute (a man in his 60’s, too many beers, what can you say!). As I was walking back to my seat I thought “What the fuck am I doing? Why am I going back to get even more cold watching this crap?” and quickly turned around and headed to Asda where The Current Mrs Gers was waiting to pick me up. I’ve recently bought a new car, which she was driving. Almost top of the range Mini. Those heated seats were fired right up as high as they’d go.
If season ticket renewal day was last night I’d genuinely have ripped the fucking thing up. There’s nothing to entice me to go back. Nothing. Shite overpriced beer, served by kids. An ice tomb of a bar to drink it in. The guy who sits behind me is the most foulmouthed, opinionated, boring wanker I’ve ever had the displeasure to encounter in my six decades upon this planet, and he’d brought a friend who was an even bigger Ladybit than him. I was beginning to lose my temper with them, and at one point my son had to remind me that folk are entitled to their own opinion, and that I needed to calm down.
The Current Mrs Gers asked why I go if I’m obviously not enjoying it, and to be honest I couldn’t find a reason. She also asked if I’d renew our season tickets next season if, or more likely when, we get regulated. As I’ve said above, if you’d asked me last night I’d definitely have said no fucking way. There’s a million things I could on a Saturday afternoon in winter that would actually bring me pleasure. Making music in my studio. Reading. Watching a film. Listening to music. Shopping for even more expensive clothes that I don’t really need. Anything. The prospect of L2 football next season is not something that I’m looking forward to. Far from it.
I’ve put a lot of time, money and effort into following this club. But at the moment, sitting in my kitchen on a Sunday morning, it feels like I’ve wasted my time.
I didn't (bother to) go but if I had I don't think I could have phrased things better. Excellent post.
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