Shots Across The Bow

Saturday, 27th August 2011
nPower League Two
OUFC 1 Aldershot Town 1

Urrgh. Another one that finished ugly after starting so promisingly. Come the end of the season, will we be ruing these dropped points at home against Bradford and Aldershot? Who knows, but at least it's still early enough in the season to crack on and get on with the next game without too much undue reflection.

You wouldn't have thought that though given the negativity and moaning from the crowd around me at this game. Jesus, I know it wasn't particularly good but I've never understood the mentality of booing your own players. You might -just about- convince me that it's worth doing at the final whistle if they have been exceptionally shite. Not that I have even ever done that though myself, to be honest. But to do so during the match is a fucking ridiculous way to support your team. Nice one, if you were one of those doing so. I'm sure it motivated the players to up their game.

Shot Down.
(Copyright: Steve Daniels)

The day had started so brightly, quite literally so. I drove up from London with my mate and his young lad, leaving behind the London sunshine to the unsettled Oxfordshire clouds; whose changeability was to become an unwelcome comparison for the performance on the pitch, it seemed.

I seemed to take leave of my senses on arrival at The Blackbird, as rather than take my traditional Branos spicy chicken burger, I decided to take a punt at the Caribbean BBQ foodstuffs being hawked in the pub car park. I'd already been told that the offerings being sold looked "interesting to say the least", and always one to try something different, I went for it.

BlackBird BBQ: Belting.

The chef behind the BBQ reeled off the list of what they had on offer for my pre-match prandium.
"We got Jerk Chicken, Jerk Pork, Curry Goat, Dumplin', we got Rice..."
"..And Peas?!" I cut in.
"No. No peas."
...and there followed an awkward silence.

Well, serves me right for expecting the cuisine to conform to a stereotype.

I can't say I was disappointed at what got served to me though, when I asked for the Jerk Pork (and was told by the landlady sat chowing down on her grub that the jerk pork "Goes very nice wi' the dumplin". So I had Jerk Pork with Dumplin', and it did indeed go very nice with the dumplin'.

And this is what it looked like:

Jerk Pork @ The BlackBird BBQ. Stonkin' Haunch of Meat.

It was an absolute feast of delicious meat. One that I couldn't get through unaided, but as luck may have it there were a few blokes on hand to help out inside the pub. In fact, I've never had my dinner analysed so intently - at some point or other the whole pub seemed to stop by and poke around in the pork to see for themselves what on earth I'd been given to eat. It was certainly an interesting meal.

It wasn't a cheap meal though. It was a shit load of meat, but not sure £6 was value for it. Probably back to the Branos next time, you'll be pleased to know. Especially considering the effect that jerk sauce had on my bowels later on.

So after wiping the jerk-sauce from my face, we toddled off to the ground and watched a disappointing game. I had a feeling it was going to be a twat of a game when they had the man sent off on 12 minutes. It's amazing how having an extra man on the pitch so often does not end up being an advantage at all.

Thankfully, I spent a good portion of the 2nd half in the East Stand toilets ruing my earlier food decision, so missed a lot of the rubbish. In need of cheering up afterwards myself, my friend and his kid stopped off at my parent's pub on the way back to London, where they were having a Wild West Hoe-Down. As you do on a Bank Holiday.

A couple of hours messing about on a rodeo bull was just the ticket, as it transpired. Yee-Haaa! See you next time, pardners!



Rodeo Action: Post-Match Japes.

Up The U's!

I Don't Like Cricket (as much as OUFC)

The below article should appear in today's programme for the game against Aldershot.
I say should, because I really don't know what the editor will cut out. He might end up cutting it out altogether. And frankly I wouldn't blame him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm writing these programme notes on Monday evening just gone. The day after the last game. You know, that one we just played last. The one against Swindon. The one we won.

I just spent today at The Oval watching England beat India and pick up the trophy for being the best test cricket side in the world (Well I say Trophy; it was actually a gilded mace. But I digress). The point being, I was watching the pinnacle of achievement for this all-conquering England side, you see. I was watching the two best sides in the world of a sport I also love, probably as much as football. I was even watching a batting innings from Sachin Tendulkar, the leading test run-scorer of all time.

Cricket: Not Football.

Yet all day, all I could really think about was the day before, and that win against Swindon, in Swindon, by my beloved Oxford. And who could blame me, really? It was “38 years of hurt” and all that, after all.

Constable Scores the winner. Oh Yes.
(Copyright: Steve Daniels)

That means I was hurting even before I was born. Indeed, it means I was hurting a few years before my parent's had even met each other. That's how deep that hurt was. Until last Sunday, that is. No hurt anymore. Just joy, joy, joy.

As I write this (on Monday, if you remember) my throat is still sore, my legs are cut to pieces from jumping around amongst the Stratton Bank seats, I've had a cracking headache for the past 24 hours and worst of all, my face seems to have come out in sympathy with our near-neighbours by turning the colour of their shirts after the afternoon in the open sun (Something I've only added to at The Oval today, incidentally. I thought Spiderman was in my bathroom when I just caught sight of myself in the mirror). Indeed, I also seem to have mild sun-stroke. But I'm still smiling and happy and can't stop looking through the various photos, status updates and tweets posted online about Sunday's victory. It's a great feeling, isn't it?


(Copyright: Steve Daniels)


Let's not lose sight though of the greater goal. As amazing a buzz as Sunday was, the buzz will be so much greater for me if we are a League 1 side next season, just as the buzz was greater (although only just!) after promotion at Wembley last year. I won't say the result against Swindon would be irrelevant if we didn't end up picking up any more points for a while, but the gloss of the result would fade somewhat if we didn’t go on a bit of a run now. The target always has to be promotion this season and today Swindon are irrelevant, it’s all about doing our best against Aldershot.

The Shots haven’t had as good a start as they might have liked so far this season, so will be raring to have a go at us today and hoping we are still a bit hung-over from our derby day exploits. And I think we all know Aldershot like to come and play football, so will be no pushovers today. So let’s all try and sing and cheer Oxford on to another three points this afternoon – even if you did shred your vocal chords on the Stratton Bank last weekend.

And always remember – Up The U’s!