TT GROUNDHOPPING

Clive Hayward – @Byehorse

Clive discusses the trip to London

WORTHING (A)

A day we had looked forward to.

Some fun, some joy but a bloody long way home with nothing to show for it.

The only other time I had been to Worthing was 1987. I was a callow University youth and it was a Spring weekend based around watching Leeds play at nearby Brighton. Boro Andy and I had too much to drink, and we ended our Friday night running to avoid what would probably have been a well-deserved beating from some locals who didn’t appreciate our repeated renditions of Marching On Together!

Nearly 4 decades older but not much wiser, I embarked on a bargain basement train ride with half a dozen like-minded Yellows. Andy had plotted a cheap trip for us. For the princely sum of £48 we travelled via Exeter, Salisbury and Southampton. The beauty of it was that we were able to get on board services at the start of their journeys with unreserved seating and tables aplenty. Very civilised.

I played the “Get a fake name on your Starbucks Cup” game. “Asa” will probably never go out of fashion, but Saturday’s choice was “Wes.”

The Guardian Quiz probably finished honours even. Andy did really well with this one:

“What links:

Thomas Edison; Lloyd George; John Higgins; Stanley Matthews; Simon Whitlock?”

(answer at the end).

We started drinking at Salisbury, and to be truthful we never really stopped. It lubricated conversations and added to the fun of it all. The downside was that there were a couple of spillages and that one of our younger chaps spent quite a lot of the return trip with a Budweiser box on his head.

Considering some of the weather this weekend, Sussex by the Sea was pretty pleasant when we arrived at lunchtime, and we avoided getting wet or too cold all afternoon.

We made a foray down to the prom, where conditions for the plentiful anglers were definitely bracing. It looks like some money has been spent on what looks like an art deco-inspired pub at the end of the Pier. It was a little too busy and “foodie” for our needs, so we headed back inland for a couple of pints at a well-run Greene King in the town centre. A 10% offer brought the price of 2 Guinness back down into single figures and at about 2.15 we set off for the ground.

Google Maps said it was a 20 minute walk. Andy left most of us in his slipstream as he set off at 12 minute pace. I am a plodder, and my normal pace is much more milkfloat than Maserati.

Anyway, and despite a rather inconvenient level crossing impeding our forced march, we got to the ground in good time to be thoroughly searched by some friendly stewards.

We joined my brother, my niece, her partner and their beautiful 4 month old baby son. He was watching his first ever game of football, although I don’t think I will mention this one when he’s old enough to realise. He hardly cried or vomited at all, which was a brilliant effort given Torquay’s awful performance!

My brother and I managed to dull the pain with a few nice pints of Camden Stout. I would highly recommend it. Quite sweet and very quaffable.

The performance cannot entirely be explained by the manager’s team selection, although I bet you won’t win too many games without fielding a recognised striker. If it was an experiment I doubt very much that it will be repeated.

Worthing were very much up for the Cup. We weren’t and a 5-1 hammering was the chastening outcome.

HIGHLIGHTS – JORDAN YOUNG FREE KICK

On the way back to the level crossing I got talking to Charlotte, who described herself as a Worthing Ultra. She was one of their 22 hardy souls who travelled to Torquay in October. Fair play.

We ransacked Tesco Express before boarding a train which certainly wouldn’t merit that name. Delays heading home meant that we missed our connection at Salisbury. By now the forecast weather was getting its act together and we staggered through a wintry shower into the haven of the nearest boozer.

The chances of getting a train further than Exeter didn’t look great. I did manage to vox-pop a fellow traveller though. Her reply to the question: “How would you feel if your manager picked a team with no strikers?” was short, hilarious and probably can’t be printed here!

Thankfully, we were by now accompanied by a couple of “train-whisperers” who pulled some strings to ensure that a Cross Country service waited at St Davids long enough for us to throw ourselves through the doors. (You know who you are, and we really appreciated it- thank you!).

Back in South Devon we were greeted by heavy rain and lashing winds, but happily we had a lift back from Newton to Torquay (thanks to a long-suffering partner) and we arrived home in plenty of time to pass-out in front of the cricket.

It’s all good fun!!

Roll on St Albans.

*Guardian Quiz answer:

Nicknamed the Wizard: Wizard of Menlo Park; Welsh Wizard; Wizard of Wishaw; Wizard of dribble; the Wizard, in darts.