Darlington 2-2 Bath City
Conference National
Saturday 14th April 2012 – 15:00

Since I last blogged, Bath City have played two games. The first on Easter Monday against Forest Green Rovers. This was our penultimate home match of the season. Bath City have never beaten Forest Green… OK, apart from that famous extra time 2-1 win in the First Round Replay of the Welsh Cup, during the 1988-89 season. Given our poor record against our Nailsworth neighbours, the fact we’re rock bottom of the Conference and Forest Green were flying high on their hippy owner’s bong (and admirable league position), I wasn’t holding out much hope. I was wise not to get too optimistic. It was a poor performance from both sides, in the pouring rain and City lost 2-0. A dishonourable mention for Rovers’ Reece Styche, who got booked for diving and was quick to take the “Inbred of the Month” award (won last month by Richard Brodie). The referee should also have given Jamie Cook a penalty too. Probably.

Nothing to do with Bath City or Forest Green, but as skips go, this is the best in the league

On the plus side, Bath City held the ‘name the stadium draw’. While I am a traditionalist and will always refer to Bath City’s home as Twerton Park, I welcomed the promotion which encouraged people to spend £50 on the chance to name the ground. If nothing else, it brought in much-needed revenue to the club. Of course, an embarrassing name could have been drawn out the hat, so I was pleased when The Mayor of Bath pulled out The Mayday Trust – a charity which helps people who are facing difficulties in their lives. Therefore, during next season, Twerton Park will officially be known as the Mayday Trust Park. Cue various wannabe comedians posting on the internet “Mayday, mayday, we’re going down”. Sigh. It wasn’t funny the first time. Or the second. Or the third, fourth, fifth or even sixth time the joke was made.

Enough about that and onto what you all came to read about. My sixteen and a half hour trip on a minibus to County Durham to watch a side bottom of the league and already relegated play a team third from bottom of the league and about to get relegated. El Classico this is not.

Despite being already doomed to play in the Conference South next season, I managed to convince myself that the ungodly early start, expensive trip and long day would be worth doing. Why? I attend most Bath City away games. Plus, I asked myself the question “Would I have gone if Bath City were top of the league?” From a personal point of view, the answer should be the same, regardless of league position.

Fourteen fans plus two drivers boarded the minibus to Darlington. Meeting at Twerton Park at 6.45am. Shortly before 9am, we arrived at the Tamworth service station, where coffee was bought (an essential purchase). We met some Forest Green fans on their way to Gateshead. There was little talk of the events from five days previous. City fans probably embarrassed about losing again, while Rovers supporters ashamed by Styche’s cheating. After a lot more driving, we arrived at Wetherby Services. This place is a haven for football fans. Last season, again on the way to Darlington, we met a crowd of highly intoxicated Sunderland supporters. One of whom fell over in the toilets, before shouting out to everybody that he had pissed himself. This time, there would be no drunken antics. We were however joined by Chesterfield and Wolves fans. A fight almost broke out following an argument about who has had the shittest season, although luckily that was stopped and we all had a relegation party instead. The relegation party was a success and much fun was had by all. Party games were played, including Pin the Tail on the Donkey Defender and Blind Striker’s Buff.

We arrived at The Darlington Arena at midday. I have been twice before, but I never fail to be amazed at just how big the place is. The stadium was opened in 2003, holding a capacity of 25,000. However, local planning laws restrict this to just 10,000, although not even that figure is ever close to being met. According to a Darlington supporter I met last year, one of the reasons such a grossly oversized stadium was constructed, was so that Darlington could one day host Champions League football. Given the fact Darlington were in League Two at the time, you may think that decision sounds a little mad. That’s because it was.

The Mayday Trust Park sounds better

You will have no doubt read or heard about the awful mess Darlington are in, so I won’t bore you with it all on here. If you want to find out exactly what has gone on, their sad plight is well publicised on the unofficial website and forum, Darlo Uncovered.

First thing Monday morning, I'm going to suggest to my Bath-based office we have our Crimbo party in Darlington!

Just looking around the ground, it was clear why they are financially screwed, which is a very sad state of affairs – not only for their supporters, but for fans of non-league and football itself.

Despite the club's problems, the fans pride themselves in having clean hands

We collected and paid for our tickets from an away ticket office. The previous two visits we went to the club shop. Why 15 or so away fans need to pay in a separate location to home supporters is a mystery to me, but assuming the man in the office was not a volunteer, it just highlights some of the off the field financial mismanagement involved at Darlington.

No smoke canisters! Dammit. May as well go home now

Due to our early arrival, we had lots of time before kick-off and had two options. Stay at the ground and try to locate the clubhouse somewhere within the vast arena, or walk to a nearby pub. The fans’ minds were quickly made up when a monsoon of rain and hail fell from the sky. Club house it is. A group of older Bath City fans were already drinking. It always amazes me just how much elderly gentleman can drink. They can easily put away five pints before a match. I would be on the floor if I had that much. After drinking a £3.60 bottle of Bulmers and visiting the club shop, picking up a pin-badge commemorating Darlington’s FA Trophy Final against Mansfield, I entered the north east’s answer to The Bernabeu.

1001 Ways To Boost Your Attendance - No.352 Take down sign

As we awaited 3pm, the hip hop classic Can I Kick It by A Tribe Called Quest was played across the ground. Given both Bath City and Darlington’s poor seasons, I thought this track was rather fitting, as the song’s title had probably been thought many a time throughout the season by demoralised players.

We should have stayed 'til Sunday

The game was poor. You could tell both sides had experienced long and unsuccessful seasons. Mistakes were made and the atmosphere was subdued. If it weren’t for the freezing cold, it could have been mistaken for a pre-season friendly.

The ground was filled with photographers, however most appeared to have their lenses focused on the home crowd. It was no secret that if Darlington failed to beat Bath City that afternoon, they would be mathematically relegated. Given the fact they had not won for seventeen games, the chances of seeing grown men crying (hilariously) at the prospect of going down was high. Every football photographer wants to get one of them on camera.

Never mind the carvery, I'd come back just to see those pennants again - impressive collection

Few chances were created by either side, but Jamie Cook did manage to get the ball in the back of the net. We saw the linesman’s flag raised ages before Cook’s strike, so did not even attempt to celebrate the clearly offside goal. That did not stop a group of 30-or-so home fans mocking us for NOT cheering a disallowed goal. Strange.

Hilarious use of drawing pins to deface a photo

At the other end of the pitch, Bath City defender Andy Gallinagh almost scored what would be the most impressive own goal ever – attempting to lob his own goalkeeper. Thankfully Glyn Garner dealt with it, but had he not, at least Bath City would have found their way onto Danny Baker’s Own Goals and Gaffs 2012.

Living the dream. Next season it'll be a cloakroom ticket from Tonbridge Angels... if I'm lucky

As if trying to gift Darlo a lead with an attempted own goal wasn’t enough, the generous City defence totally capitulated moments later, allowing a Darlington forward to find himself in a one on one position. Luckily their strikers are worse than our defenders and the ball was well saved by Garner from just 6 yards out.

Jeez, all I wanted to do was sell a few James Bond video tapes

However, Darlington did make it 1-0 before half time. A player, unmarked, managing to give the home side the lead. I was annoyed. Very annoyed. Not by the fact we had made yet another mistake in defence. Not because Darlington had scored. No, because Darlo play goal music. Worse still, Tom Hark. Why clubs do it, I have no idea. It is so embarrassing.

OH. MY. GOD! Darlington lampshades at only £1. MUST. STAY. CALM....

As half time approached, City tried to equalise, although only managed to shoot wide of goal. The fans who jeered us earlier on responded to the miss with a song of “That’s why you’re bottom!” Thanks for that.

Had the players lost the match, they would have traveled back on the minibus

Two substitutions were made at half time for City – Scott Murray and Sean Canham entering the field to give the away side a more attacking line up. It was needed. Darlington were clearly vulnerable in defence, so it was worth exploiting in an attempt to salvage some kind of a result.

Oil paintings in the toilet cubicles. Fantastic.

A pair of policemen entered the segregated away stand, which consisted of the fourteen fans who made their way up on the minibus and six other supporters who I have never seen before, who had decided to sit with us. Strangely, I think they were locals. There was also a dozen stewards to keep the drunken Bath City pensioners under control. I did wonder what the police were doing. Either they had been mistakenly informed that we are the Millwall of the Conference and were about to start a riot, or they were heading for the press box in an attempt to keep warm.

Believe it or not, I did actually attend a football match yesterday. Here's proof.

Darlington scored again. 2-0. Game over. More goal music. Darlo’s first home win in 18 games. The sad thing is I could see this coming and even said pre-match that I suspect they’ll win…

“Sean! Wash your mouth out with soap and water!”

“OK, sorry, Sean! I’ll keep the faith…”

My faith was repaid when, with a few minutes to go, Alex Russell lobbed the Darlington goalkeeper. A great goal. 2-1. Game on. At this point, Darlington collapsed like a pack of cards. Scott Murray broke through their frail defence and with the sweetest of strikes equalised. That really was game over, both for the match and Darlington.

Cue mayhem in the away end as along with thirteen other supporters, I celebrated like we had won the World Cup. Remembering the fans who had mocked us earlier in the game, we responded with a rendition of “Going down, going down, going down” It felt great and for a moment, I almost forgot that we had been relegated ourselves.

I later learnt following his equalising goal, which mathematically relegated Darlington, Scott Murray ran to the home fans gesturing them to ‘shhhh’. Some supporters had abused him pre-kick off and Murray had promised a reaction if he scored. This reaction clearly upset the home fans. I do feel sorry for the Darlo supporters who did not wind-up Murray or mock us Bath City fans. It is awful to be relegated (believe me, I know) and the last thing you need is to have the fact you are down rammed down your throat. However, those who were involved in any mockery of Bath City and Murray can have little complaint. After all, if you are not prepared to take it, don’t dish it out.

The referee blew for full time. A few boos echoed across the mostly empty and amply named Northern Echo arena, while most home fans just left in silence. Bath City supporters, already relegated, yet elated after the late comeback, celebrated with their players and management.

Certain players from both sides at risk of being arrested by The Football Police this season

We wouldn’t get back to Bath until gone 10pm, but the long journey home would be much sweeter following the fantastic fight back. I am glad I made the trip – for many reasons. One being I do not know the next time I will spend almost seventeen hours on a single away day again – it’ll be the likes of Basingstoke, Eastleigh and Boreham Wood next season. Sob.

A wheelbarrow. Always an exciting sight. Especially if you're from Somerset.

On a final note, I really hope Darlington manage to sort their problems out. While Bath City supporters are upset at going back down to the Conference South next season, at least we know we’ll have a club to follow. Darlo fans may not even have that. It made me sad to see a previously well-established Football League side in such a dire state. Good luck to their supporters, whatever happens in the future. Our five recent encounters have been fun, even if you did give us two hidings last year.

Brislington Reserves 1-1 Purnell Sports
Somerset County League First Division
Saturday 7th April 2012 – 15:00

With Bath City having played on the Friday night, I was left with a free Saturday. Like any obsessive non-league fan, I used my afternoon to do a spot of ground-hopping. For those not in the know, ground-hopping is a bit like trainspotting, only geekier. A ground-hopper will visit the football ground of a club he or she has not visited before and add the fact they have done so to a scrapbook, wall chart or in my case, a spreadsheet. There are even Facebook applications and websites dedicated to ground-hopping, all used by saddos like me.

My ground of choice for Saturday would be Ironmould Lane. Home of Brislington FC of the Western League. I only live a short way from Brislington, but shamefully have never visited their ground before. Bath City did play them a few years ago in the Somerset Premier Cup. City lost the game 5-0 and were fined £250 as punishment for fielding a side made up almost entirely of youth players. Like the majority of the first team, I did not attend that match.

The game will be refereed by Lewis Hogg, with Matt Coupe and Nathan Rudge as linesmen

I would make use of local public transport for my trip to Brislington, boarding the infamous X39 bus. I sat near to the back, just in front of a woman who looked like she had passed out and another who was listening to her iPod, except without headphones so the entire bus was subjected to her awful choice of music.

I got off the bus just in time. Had I been on the bus any longer, a female traveller would had an iPod firmly thrust into her head. After escaping, I crossed the busy main road, remembering to look left and right, just the hedgehogs on the TV advert told me. I then made the walk up a long side road to the concealed football ground. I thank Google Maps for allowing me to plan my route before departing.

Did I mention that I wasn’t actually watching Brislington FC play? Well, not the first team, anyway. It was Brislington Reserves against Purnell Sports. Upon arrival at the ground, I looked for the turnstiles. I couldn’t find them, so instead wandered through an entrance intended for the players and match officials. Ether the reserve fixture was free entry, or I can pass for a Somerset County League First Division player.

I headed for the club house for a pre-match drink of Thatchers Gold (a perk of visiting a West Country-based club) while listening to the commotion amongst the home fans and staff. The excitement over an incident involving a swimmer holding up the Boat Race on the TV was soon forgotten when a reserve team manager came rushing into the bar asking if anybody had a spare black sock as a player had lost his. Mayhem.

This is a gate

After Thatchers had been drank and a suitably black sock found, I made my way outside to prepae for the highly anticipated fixture. There was about five minutes before kick off. A couple of players got out of their cars and wandered over to their manager to check if they would be playing. After being complemented on their new football boots and informed they had three minutes to get changed, they ran off to get ready.

The closest Brislington will come to signing Thierry Henry... or even Leigh Henry

The place began to fill up. After all, this was a hotly contested derby. Brislington were still counting the gate receipts when I left, so was unaware of the official attendance, but as the game kicked off, I counted as many as 9 supporters in the ground.

A coach, late out the changing room, ran to the dug outs, clutching a bottle of vinegar – either to go with his chips or just in case a player gets stung by a wasp. An overweight Brislington player took up the job as linesman, while exchanging banter with his team mates and supporters.

A rather worrying stain on a clubhouse chair

The game started as you would expect a game involving a Western League reserve side to start. With the goalkeeper miskicking the ball so it stopped after 10 yards. The keeper had a chance to redeem himself moments later with a second goal kick. This time his kick went a bit further. All the way out of the ground and into a nearby hedgerow. A player leapt from the dugout, ran across the terrace and began taking apart the fence before crawling into the bushes and nettles to retrieve the lost ball.

As I waited for the makeshift ball boy to do his duties, I noticed Brislington’s opponents, Purnell Sports, were sponsored by Berkleys coaches – the firm who provide away travel for Bath City. Fascinating observation of the day #1.

Brislington is a nice ground. Most of it is undercover, which is great as it was a bit wet that day. I avoided the main stand and terraces, instead opting to sit on a bench which looked to have been stolen from a school cloakroom. There were coat hooks along the top of the seats, making it ideal for anyone wishing to hang their suit or dinner jacket up during the match.

What appeared to be a WAG joined me in the stand, sitting on the other bench. From the sounds of it, she spent most of her time sending text messages. In fact every fan in the ground under the age of 70 was on their phones, including some of the players.

The Cloak Room Stand

The job of the Brislington Reserve manager appeared to be to shout. A lot. His favourite phrase being “Squeeze him! Squeeze him!” closely followed by “Pass it! Pass it!”

A rival player entered The Cloakroom Stand and sat next to the WAG, who he appeared to know. While watching the game, I couldn’t help overhear their conversation, which included talk of all the naughty goings-on at Welton Rovers and Bishop Sutton. It was like he was reciting an episode of Sky One’s Dream Team. One story involved how morale was low after a player’s wages were cut to £10 a week.

Match shot

During the second half, I left the cloakroom, remembering to take my hat and coat from the hook, and stood behind the dugouts. The home manager continued to shout at his players “Don’t sell it! Don’t sell yourself!” whatever that means. Glad I’m not a footballer.

Purnell opened the scoring, which resulted in mass celebrations from the away dugout. The linesman for the second half, presumably a Purnell coach, congratulated the goal scorer on a fantastic effort.

Impartial match official

The away side came close to doubling their lead, when a pacey number 10 broke and ran towards goal. “Twat him!” came the instructions from Brislington’s bench. Number 10 got suitably twatted and the score remained 1-0. By this point, the attendance had more than doubled since the start of the game. I counted 25, although a lot of these were substitutes who had become bored of waiting on the bench.

As the game progressed, the challenges and passes became more scrappy. One player slicing the ball into the cloakroom stand, which almost burst on a sharp coat hook. The ball was retrieved before being hoofed out the ground and into a tree, probably destroying a birds nest in the process. Again, a substitute leapt from the bench to get the ball back.

The vocal manager, desperate to rescue a point continued to shout orders at his team. “Don’t stop!” he yelled, before a nearby fan piped up “Believing” Ha ha ha. The players didn’t take much notice of their manager, which infuriated him further “I’m speaking fucking English!” he reminded one player – probably a multi-million pound foreign signing who has little grasp of the language.

By this point I was becoming increasingly concerned. The player who had earlier left the substitutes bench to retrieve the lost ball from the hedgerow hadn’t returned. Anything could have happened – perhaps a badger or hedgehog had eaten him.

Condiments rating: 4/10

Brislington had a great chance to equalise as a decent ball was played to their number 8 who casually strolled into the box like Mario Balotelli. Unlike Mario Balotelli this player didn’t score, instead headed the ball into the stands. As there was no ball boy or fan in that stand, he had to get the ball back himself.

It was at that point I noticed the overweight and middle aged linesman from the first half had stripped down and was all kitted and booted in Brislington colours. The substitution was made and the bloke ran onto the pitch, bearing a number 14 shirt. As he jogged onto the field, a supporter asked if the shirt number represented his weight.

Controversy erupted when a Purnell forward appeared to have been fouled just outside the Brislington penalty area. He looked up, longingly at the referee, hoping for a free kick or penalty. This apparent cheating caused uproar as another player informed the referee “He gone down like he’s been shot!” Amusingly, the player berating the cheat was his very own teammate.

The match was drawing to a close and it looked like Purnell Sports had secured themselves a dramatic away victory. That was until the tubby number 14, who had also been a linesman less than an hour earlier, put all his weight behind the ball and slammed it into the top corner of the Purnell goal. It was a decent strike. 1-1. The player ran to his adoring fans, arms held out before shouting “I’m rolling back the years!”

Following the wonder-goal, Brislington stepped up a gear and turned on the skills. Their Number 2 passing a ball straight from the legs of Purnell’s Number 11. If Lionel Messi had done the same, Sky would be talking about it for weeks. Sublime football.

The referee then blew his whistle. Fans headed for the clubhouse to find out how many goals Liverpool had lost to that week, while others went home to watch Bristol City’s relegation battle against Nottingham Forest.

Tamworth 0-1 Bath City
Conference National
Friday 6th April 2012 – 19:45

It was Bath City’s first game since their inevitable relegation on Tuesday night. As we walked to Twerton Park to join our fellow dedicated mad supporters, a car drove past. The driver, spotting our black and white striped attire, beeped his horn before shouting “Going down” out of his car window. I must applaud him on his observation skills while at the same time thank him for informing me of the fact that Bath City were in fact relegated. Only yesterday I thought to myself “I must make sure I have booked tickets to Luton Town next season”. I won’t bother now.

Banksy has clearly made a visit to the Midlands

Tamworth is a fairly local trip, so there was no stopping at service stations this time. Upon arriving at the ground, the travelling fans all hungry, thirsty and tired, were advised by a steward that there was a Weatherspoons Pub just a five minute walk from the nearby river. We walked for what seemed like miles, passing geese, a funfair and even a castle, but sadly no Weatherspoons. A bar was eventually found. I didn’t get a drink. We left shortly afterwards. I think we may have inadvertently stumbled across a gay bar. On the walk back to the ground, we passed a Weatherspoons pub. We had walked the wrong way along the river. Dammit.

Note to diary: Return for fetish night

Tamworth play at The Lamb Ground – one of the more traditional stadiums in our league, which pleased me. The terracing could be better, but I always love a ground where home and away supporters can mix and of course, swap ends at half time.

As the players warmed up in the cold midland rain, Ready To Go by Republica was blasted out across the ground. It was tense -Bath City, already down, yet fighting for pride up against Tamworth – still in the relegation mix. Could The Romans slay The Lambs or would The Lambs hurt The Romans by nibbling them to death or smothering them with itchy, knitted wool? Republica was followed by Bon Jovi’s Living On A Prayer, as lots of home supporters bearing mullets enjoyed the classic 1980’s rock.

If watching non-league football while listening to 80's rock doesn't take your fancy, there's always the snow dome

The game kicked off with the vocal home supporters singing “No one likes us, no one likes us, we don’t care” I can honestly say, I have never met a football fan who has said “You know what? I really can’t stand Tamworth football club. In fact, I hate them” Therefore, it was a rather strange choice of song. However, even Bath City have been known to sing the song and everybody loves Bath City – many people even more than their own club.

City started well, but as seems to be the case in every game this season, couldn’t take their chances. They were almost made to pay after giving away a silly free kick in a dangerous position, but Glyn Garner was able to pull off an excellent side, to the joy of the travelling fans who congratulated their player. Next to the City fans stood a group of young Tamworth supporters, high to their eyeballs on chocolate Easter eggs. Uninspired by Garner’s heroics, they began praising their own goalkeeper, Jonathan Hedge, and getting far too excited than is humanly healthy, when he made a comfortable save after an effort on goal from Scott Murray.

Despite being rock-bottom and already relegated, City were actually playing very well. In fact as good as they have been all season. Jamie Cook, who has come under much criticism throughout the season, was on fire. Not literally, but if he was up in flames, he couldn’t run around much more than he was doing last night. Well done, Cookey! He had a chance to score what would be his first league goal of the season, but was kicked down by a Tamworth brute. Hardly a lamb. More like an old sheep with tough mutton flesh and tangled up wool. If that lamb belonged to Little Bo Peep, she would put it to sleep… for good.

Half time was greeted to the odd boo from the home faithful and more Bon Jovi from the tannoy. Yet again, Living On A Prayer. They really do love Jo Bo here.

A dinner dance! Oooh... must attend. But wait, does it clash with Fetish Night? *checks diary* nope. Get in!

As will happen at every single away trip next season, the Bath City fans swapped ends for the second half, to be behind the goal they are attacking and wind up the home goalkeeper for yet another 45 minutes.

City continued their pressure into the second half. This started to annoy the locals. One of whom, a very Brummie man, became very frustrate. “C’mon!” He barked “What’s the matter with ya?” as City tore through the Tamworth defence. More chances were created by City and the angry fan became more angry “You’ve had your warning!” he bellowed as Scott Murray shot narrowly wide.

Tamworth made some substitutions. All of which were greeted by boos. Whether the fans were complaining about the choice of subs or booing the players coming off for a poor performance, I don’t know. As we were not segregated, I was tempted to join in.

City were beginning to frustrate the away fans. Chance after chance being missed. I wanted a win. I haven’t seen us win away all season. Some fans claimed they would take a 0-0. For me, a draw is pointless. We’re down anyway. We may as well go for a win and take some pride.

Is it immature to find this sign funny?

Another corner was won by City. “Don’t worry” a home fan was assured by a City supporter “We never score from corners” They were indeed correct. As I have mentioned on my blog before, we haven’t scored from a corner all season. Marc Canham, my player of the season, swung the ball into the penalty area. I almost looked away, expecting to see the ball headed out by a big centre back. That didn’t happen. The ball met Jamie Cook, who leapt forward with a diving header to put the ball into an open goal…

PAUSE BLOG

… Let’s calm down for a second, folks while we do a few checks. Is the ball in the net? Check. Has the linesman kept his flag down? Check. Am I awake? Check. Oh my god! You know what? I think we may have scored from a corner. What’s more, it was Jamie Cook that got it! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!

A bullet header from an unmarked striker after a corner. It was a typical Bath City goal to concede, yet somehow we had scored it!

As the final 15 minutes of the game was played, a feeling returned that I have not felt for ages. It was the feeling of winning away from home and praying to god that we hang onto the victory. It was nerve-wrecking and scary, although Tamworth had been rubbish for most of the game and rarely created anything to frighten me too much.

Crap match shot

The bloke on the tannoy announced the match attendance as over 26,000. This was greeted to cheers and applause, even from the disappointed home fans. Of course the attendance wasn’t 26,000. It was 900-and-something. The high figure was the amount of money raised for the local St. Giles Hospice. Well done to all those who raised and donated money to the cause.

The game finished 1-0. There was, understandably, huge joy from the Bath City supporters, players and management. We may be down, but we haven’t given up all the fight. All this rubbish flying around the internet forums and terraces that manager Adie Britton isn’t up for the job and has lost the dressing room. Utter bullshit. The Bath City players did themselves, the club, fans and their manager proud.

The last time I saw Bath City win away from home was 26th March 2010. A 1-0 victory at Barrow. Since then, I have travelled 5513 miles on the road with The Romans, without witnessing a win, until last night. Phew! It was worth it, but I hope I don’t have to travel another 5,000+ miles to see our next 3 points.