Today I am quietly sitting at home wondering whether the weather is going to condemn me to a day of housework or allow me to take my new car into the mountains for a photoshoot. I fear it's housework as heavy snow is forecast for the Brecon Beacons today. As I sit here typing in a relatively reflective mood, I find it difficult to stop my thoughts drifting back to the events of yesterday. This time yesterday excitement was my welcome companion as we were about to embark on the long journey to Peterborough to watch Cardiff City. Following a quick rendezvous phone call, the tranquility of early morning Christmas Holiday is infiltrated by the infectious laughter of Joey and Dilwyn. We are joined at the Friendly hotel by Des and an array of Barry lads. The bitter cold did not speed up the 20 minutes wait, but sure enough the always reliable Ketty and the governed minibus arrived. Our erstwhile companions included the ebulient Macca, the Rhydyfelin mob of Ossie, Keith, Nicky and Coxy and the charming Gareth and Esther. The mood was bright, the expectation high, the sun was shining, the bus was slow.
We arrived in the suburb of Peterborough known as Orton where we met our Merthyr crew led by the larger than life Big Sam. A couple of hours of friendly banter full of good cheer was the exact ingredient required at this time to further enhance this developing spectacular day. On arrival at London Road, it was like a walk back in time, it truly felt like we had walked back to 1978. At this time I had so much joy in my heart, which was boosted, boosted, boosted and boosted agian, yes by the magnificent Cardiff City. The beleagered Joe Ledley scored, not once, but twice. Bothroyd scored a scorcher and Whittingham curled in a free kick. The highlight of the half without doubt was Macca crowd surfing as we went 3-0 up. How high, high, high were we.
The Peterborough manager, brought his players out early and gave them a naughty boy warm-up. This was to the back-drop of 2000 Cardiff fans singing, naughty boys, naughty boys. Unsurprisingly Cardiff set themselves up more defensive and as I feared we conceded early. I though, no way, no way......... Another twenty minutes of not very skillful, yet nervy all the same Peterborough pressure resulted in a second. 4-2, no way, no way, no way.......... Speech has now deserted me, I am no longer hungry, I cannot feel the cold. The only thing gripping my senses is fear, I feel my eyes wide open as i am scared to blink, I am scared to take my eyes of the action for a milli-second....... six minutes left, surely we are home and dry now. Then fuck, fuck, fuck the dreaded happened, four bastard three with two minutes left. Hang on dont be daft haydn, we can hang on for two minutes and whatever injury time there is. Surely, surely, surely........ then that board is shown, five minutes, five minutes of pain, agony but surely it will end in ecstasy with three points. My stomach is twisted in a knot, my arse is twitching like a hungry squirel that's found the first nut of spring..... fear, fear, fear is gripping 2000 Cardiff fans........ and it happened, that fear turned to anger in an instant as the tactical change and substitute by the boro manager turned the ball into the net. Four fucking four...... I seriously cannot believe it, I have never seen anything like it, I have no words, I have no appetitie, i feel sick, I can feel green bile growing in my stomach as I want to be physically sick, I hate this, I hate it, I never want to feel like this again. The half-time joy and ecstasy, the crowd surfing are desperate memories as the atmosphere of anger, disappointment is amplified by the "Jones Out" cries, the, "Your not fit to wear the shirt"...... I hate these journeys home, silence, things could not be worse...... oh yes they can, the bus is governed at 60mph is our top speed for the next four hours.
At the end of the journey the only thing that's left to say is "see you Saturday for Bristol away"......... Bitter sweet is an understatement, rollercoaster ride is an understatement...... it's Cardiff Fucking City.......
So it looks like housework, I'll let you know tomorrow how my feelings manage the houseworrk.
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