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.
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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!

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.