Woe(king), woe(king) and thrice woe(king)!
Three times in as many weeks didn't really appeal to all of us but what else would you do on a beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon? Yes, it's "only the Trophy but we will all be there if we get to the final at Wemberley won't we? Another dream in the season of possibilities. It's hard to contain the excitement, but Gary says we must, so we will - for now.
Having to wait until almost high noon for the news that the game was on after a pitch inspection, Morris and I set off for leafy Surrey. He knows the way now, but I stayed awake just in case we ended up on Maybury Hill instead of the delights of Kingfield. It's important to get a decent parking spot for the car if you want to be home in time for Casualty so we always try to get there early. The lack of nearby establishments for refreshments is always an irritant, but that parking space is all important. Given the lack of hospitality by our Surrey neighbours you may as well get your sun bed down early on that terrace too. So it was that I reserved our spot at the back near the half way line and waited for "the lads" to arrive. My reward for reserving the best place in the house - not that that is saying much - was a warming cup of Bovril before the game. Worth every minute!
The pre - match flying display by the police helicopter must have been a big success on Boxing Day because we were treated to a repeat show today. I think the pilot must have had enough practice by now and it does give you a sore neck having to keep looking up just in case you miss the best manoeuvre. I suppose Woking fans must be easily pleased because I saw nothing spectacular at all. Perhaps the good stuff was going on while I was shouting abuse at that darn cat! For the second match running it got away with spraying water over a female police officer. Perhaps assault doesn't count when you are dressed as a cat and acting the goat? This week's victim was more embarrassed than amused - I'll wager she would dearly love to have cuffed the bloody thing. It would have got a huge cheer from all of us anyway!
BEWARE THE IDES OF MARCH
The omens of doom descended on the terrace when our Cambridge gang arrived. (March is a place in Cambridge isn't it? A bit tenuous, I admit, but stick with it!) He had brought his brother along to watch. Obviously he is not a fan of the trophy games and was trying to get us knocked out, because his brother has been to three games recently and we have lost them all. At 2-1 down with twenty minutes to go it looked like it had worked, but thanks to the generosity of the Woking manager (titter ye not) and the guts of our team we turned that round to break the spell. At least that means Patrick will get a warm welcome next time! At least they remembered to bring the half time warmers - and very much appreciated they are too.
The police chopper returned after the game for a night flying display and seemed to be escorting us back to the cars. Thanks, lads, but we can manage. I hope the cost of the whirlybird wasn't being shared out of the gate money, because even Hampshire plod doesn't deem that necessary! Within twenty minutes we were free of the leisure centre and heading home, satisfied that, for the second time in a month, we had had a lovely day the day we went to Woking.
As Lurcio would say - complete with two fingered gesture - SALUTÉ Woking!