Cod Almighty | Diary
Failing to prepare is preparing to fail
6 October 2017
Devon Diary writes: Yesterday, Middle-Aged Diary regaled us with his memories of away games at Port Vale and how easy it is to find the ground, before issuing a tacit invitation to you good people to tell us your Valiants tales.
Mark Stilton spotted us fishing for content (it's been a quiet week) and got in touch with this absolute gem of a story:
I can't remember what year it was; somewhere between 98 and 2001 I think.
I decided at the last minute at work that I would go to Port Vale. I worked near the train station, so I left work, got a ticket and jumped on the train. I have no idea what route I took, but I remember getting off at a station that appeared to be a platform in the middle of a field. I walked across the field towards an estate but I didn't really know where I was. This was pre-Google Maps, and although I had the internet at work I hadn't really done any research before getting the train. I used to do that a lot for away games in those days.
When I got to the estate, I saw floodlights in the distance and I thought, "There's the ground," and started walking towards it. After about 10 to 15 minutes I reached to the floodlights and that's when I saw that they were actually attached to some big industrial building. The football ground was nowhere to be seen and I had even less of a clue where I was!
I wandered for a few minutes and then, as luck would have it, I saw a lad in a Port Vale top. I followed him at a safe distance, not too close to spook him, but not too far away that I would lose him. This was my ticket there. I followed him down the road and through and estate for about 10 minutes and then suddenly he walked into a garden, into a house and he was gone. I was completely lost again.
I wandered some more, for maybe 10 minutes, in the direction I was already walking and finally, thankfully, started to see one or two policemen. Then I knew I was near the ground. A complete fluke, really. This was a winter game so it was pitch black!
After the game someone gave me a lift to the train station in Stoke. We stopped to ask a local the direction to Stoke train station, to which he replied, "Which one?" Apparently there are three but thankfully, miraculously, the one we got to was the one we needed to be at. So Cod Almighty, with your "oh it's so easy to find your way to Port Vale" diary. Give it a rest mate, eh? ;)
I think we lost the match 1-0
Have you ever got lost on the way to a game? Let us know, we promise to publish it and take the piss where possible.
We're heading to Vale having taken two points from nine available, while Vale have managed just one point in the last three games, but they've have gone and got themselves a new manager (the football equivalent of doping a horse). What might this mean? We're consistently inconsistent so I guess we don't want to change anything. Remain inconsistent because that would mean we'll win, right? And we want Vale to not benefit from the new manager effect, and instead remain consistent, i.e. consistently poor. I have no fucking idea.
If you're going to the game then don't be like Mark. Use your phone, satnav or AA Road Atlas - it's so easy these days. If all else fails, drop a line to Kris Green our SLO who will probably have already tweeted all the info you need.
Lastly, if you watched the England/Slovenia game last night and are wondering why our national team is so dull, despite Leicester having fielded their stiffs in the FL Trophy last season, then I'll leave you with this:
The last time England were any good was at Euro 96. The England Team Band started playing at games the same year. Coincidence? No. Whenever those trumpet fuckers play the Great Escape theme, England are awful. Just stop it, lads.
UTM!