Hateslick

Oh by crikey, it's almost upon us.

This weekend we wander into the recently-unknown, slap on the war paint and camouflage gear and step foot into the pits of Wiltshire, once again.

The excitement and build-up around this game has been unprecedented in recent memory, given the fact the last time Oxford United took to the pitch inside the dirty cauldron of festered inbreeding known as The County Ground, Swindon - it was as long ago as October 2000.

Urrgh. I feel sick.

Back then, it was just another trip to Swindon. Just another passionate derby. I'd been to a few before, I'd go to more soon. Although some very astute Yellows might have already seen the writing on the wall for our relegation that season, few if any could have imagined it would take another 11 years before we'd present ourselves at the red-breasted swine's doors again. But present ourselves we do - and this time without a kit that looks like it's been dipped in piss.

Early Wiltshire Settlers:
Already confused by that fucking
pointless roundabout.





The Urine Kit. Piss Poor.



I don't know what to expect to be honest. It's been so long since I went there now, I'm actually a little bit nervous about what might await me as I step off the train. By now, the population must surely have mutated even further into a mockery of what should have become humanity, as it crawled out of the primordial Wiltshire swamps and decided to set up residence with loads of pigs on a hill*.

Indeed, judging by the state of some of the population of the town today, it looks like they did more than merely set up residence with those pigs. Of course I jest! I'm sure not everyone in Swindon fucks pigs.

Anyway, enough of this outrageous bile. I'm just getting carried away here with the excitement, I hope you'll forgive me, I am only joking after all.

I'm sure many from outside the Oxon-Wilts environs would come across this game in the fixture list and think little of it. Indeed, a friend commented to me this week that it was a little strange to see such passion inflamed by a match taking place in the basement division. He was suitably chastised for his ignorance of the rivalry - something that wouldn't be any different were Sunday's game taking place in the Premiership or the Hellenic League (probably). Passions that are stoked still further by the 11 years that have passed since we met in the league on equal terms. Oh how patiently we have waited.

And as much as the mere mention of the town makes me instinctively wretch air, I love the fact that they hate us just as much, and we have a proper two-way rivalry. So many football league clubs simply don't have that.


Rivalry: Brilliant.

Fulham despise Chelsea with just as much passion as we despise Swindon. But Chelsea don't give a monkey's about Fulham - so derbies will never be as intense.
Reading hate Oxford, Oxford hate Reading, but both clubs hate Swindon even more, which is actually to the detriment of Reading. As no-one really hates them that much, Oxford-Reading derby days will always be pretty inconsequential in comparison to Oxford-Swindon. And I don't think Swindon care about them at all.

Wycombe - well, Wycombe don't really hate anyone and no-one hates them. And considering the lack of interest from their supporters in their own team, this mutual apathy is hardly surprising. Bad example.

My point being though, I wouldn't have the mutual hate-fest between Oxford and Swindon any other way. For that I salute you Swindon, and not even with just a middle finger, on this occasion.

Fact is though, our record at the County Ground is abysmal. One win, EVER. And that was when everyone was wearing flares or before the war or something. The default score also seems to be 4-1 to Swindon, so we have the handicap of a 3 goal disadvantage to overcome too. So with the weight of history and expectation on the shoulders of the current side, it'll be a tough ask for us to go there and come away happy.



"Fancy a game on Sunday, Joey?"
Total Legend.

But history means nothing. Nothing at all. It's all about the 90mins on the pitch on Sunday, and 22 men -10 in a filthy red rag, 10 in a majestic yellow with navy trim (and two goalkeepers in random colours, obviously. But that ruins the flow of the point, somewhat. As it would if we for some stupid reason wear our blue away kit).

Oh please, please, please, please. Can we please just go there and win this time?

Up The U's!

*Swine = Pigs, Don = Hill.

Shrewd Business Practice

Tuesday, 16th August 2011
nPower League Two
OUFC 2 Shrewsbury Town 0

I wasn't intending on coming up for this one. I know all the jibes - 'part-timer', 'fair-weather fan', 'stupid f*cking c*nt'... I've been called them all before, often with justification. But hey, you non-exiles don't know what it's like traipsing up for an evening game when you work near France and live in the centre of London.

Last Wednesday I drove from work, a 5 hour round journey which cost me probably around £50-£60 in petrol. I wasn't doing that again. I can always drive from London after work, a cost of a mere £20-ish, but by the time I get back to London it's 6.30pm and it means I'd struggle to make kick-off to justify sitting in rush-hour traffic leaving London for 90minutes.

But a fellow London Yellow was desperate to go and convinced me to drive us both last night from London at 6.30, even if it meant missing the first 20mins. Well I'm glad he convinced me, as that was a corker last night.

We actually made good time and were parked up at The Blackbird by 7.30, and although that meant no time for a drink or even a Spicy Branos Burger, it meant we were in the ground for kick-off and I was delighted I'd made the effort on such a gorgeous August night for football.

There were an awful lot of police about for some reason. Maybe they were looking for Shrewsbury's Steroid Man whom I mentioned last season. Certainly they were out in force with cameras and what have you, which seemed overkill for a mid-week fixture with no real needle, so I can't think what else they were up to.

Walking down to the ground from the Leys, hearing Perkele's Yellow & Blue song floating across the field and noticing the most spectacular Oxfordshire sunset sky, I had a feeling we were in for a treat tonight - and so we were.

Oxfordshire Sunset: Very nice.

Make no mistake, Shrewsbury are a good side and will be up there at the end of the season. The difference between them and Bradford was striking, in my eyes. It's an old cliché I know but we always seem to do well when a good side comes down to the Kassam and lets us play. And last night, we played.

Special mention I think for the young and oddly named Asa Hall. Odd to me at least, as I've never come across the name before. Perhaps you went to school with dozens of Asas, or had a great-uncle Asa. Well I didn't. I know it's a strange thing to be suddenly bringing up well over a year after we signed him, but it's something that's been bugging me for ages. I've also been pronouncing it in my head as "Assa" for a while too, something I may continue, furtively. Apparently it's an old Hebrew word meaning 'Healer' or 'Physician,' if you are interested. Oh, you're not. OK.

Asa: The Great Healer.

Anyway, back to the game and what more can I say except WOW WHAT A FUCKING GOAL from Heslop. Does it rival Beauchamp's against Blackpool? Well, no. But all the same, what a cracker. And there's an excuse to look at that Beauchamp goal again though.

So, we saw the game out. We passed it around lovely-like, we created and we finished some chances and we kept them out at the other end. To top all this off, Swindon lose at Daggers and we are above them in the League standings for the first time in 11 ruddy years - just in time to play them on their patch.

It's all very exciting, isn't it?

I don't know about you, but I might pop along to that game on Sunday after all. Are there any tickets left?