football

it's derby day, the date that every derby and forest fan look's for as soon as the fixtures are released, today we are entertaining our scutty neighbours from down the a52, we beat them at their place in september and today we are looking to make it four on the bounce, i'm up early door's, p.m.t, [pre-match tension] waking me, it's a cold, bleak day, lot's of snow in our patch of derbyshire, it's a 1300hr kick off, apparently to prevent the rival fan's getting too pissed before the game, i don't really understand it, the pub's are open from 0700 hr's, offering matchday specials, a cooked breakfast and a pint, the boy jack check's out the twitter thing and there's loads of lad's up and at 'em already, come 1300hrs there's going to be a lot of drunk people about, i dig the car out of a snowdrift and we make our way gingerly into the town, the roads are eerily quiet and there's that wild west feeling, as we walk to the ground i catch the odd glimpse into the packed pub's and the sound of chanting drift's into the almost empty streets, 'as you walk into the popside, your heart will skip a beat....' condensation running down the windows and the police in force hopping from one foot to the other and blowing onto their frozen finger's trying to keep warm, big alsation dogs barking with excitement but wagging their tails in anticipation of taking a chunk out of a pair of designer jean's, we stand patiently in line at the turnstiles to gain entry to the ground, the steady 'click, click, click' as the turnstile rotates to admit the derby faithful, a thought passes my brain, how many of these 'fan's' will be here next week for the f.a. cup match against blackburn? cynicism put to one side as i join the queue for an overpriced bottle of lager, so many unfamiliar faces, then, just to add insult to injury, a steward 'has a quiet word' about the 'industrial language' coming from 'our' section of the ground, for fuck's sake, there's no-one sitting here normally, just the die-hard derby fan's, this club make me piss, we pay up front for our season tickets, year after year to watch the second stream of english football, we come week in, week out and have to put up with them selling 'our' seat's to away fan's and moving us, giving away free tickets to the less desirable matches and free 'pie and pint' deals to non-season ticket holder's and their worried about a bit of 'robust' language? like it say's on the posters, DNA, derby now always, i'll still be here when this load of once a year 'fan's' have come and gone, anyway, typical local derby match, not much quality from either side, we sink to the red-dogs tedious long ball game instead of playing the neat passing game that we have been doing of late, the dog's score before half-time, cohen with a comedy special, miss kicking the ball to send our defender the wrong way before scuffing the ball into the net, i want to die, fucking forest scoring at our place, i feel sick to the bone, halftime comes and goes and as the majority of derby 'fan's' are trying to find their seats, looking blankly at their ticket stubs, the ram's equalise through jamie ward,before i know it i'm hanging over the front of the stand giving it to the scum, the traditional 'english archer's' and my feet are off the floor as i'm picked up in the surge of celebrating derby rabble, the rest of the match descends into a mixture of misplaced passes, half shot's and clumsy fouls, the east midland derby end's honours even, that's it then, until next year, D.N.A....