Southend United (0) 1 Barnard 90+2
Gillingham (0) 0
Att. 7,830
Entrance: £20
Programme: Too Late
Mileage: 137/3,645
Match Report
It was just a humble Pukka Pie, as much a part of match day as the ball itself for football fans, but last night it was just about the only thing that was alright on the night.
We departed Tunbridge Wells at 4.30 p.m., judging the time to leave by virtue of the club’s coach departure time and the sat nav which informed us that we would be reaching our destination at 5.40 p.m., plenty of time to park up, fish and chips and take our places in the charismatic (sarcasm) away end at Roots Hall.
The first hint that there might be trouble ahead was on the way to Tunbridge Wells from my house when the pretend, she was so hopelessly wrong, she could not have been a real traffic presenter on Radio Kent. There was to be a half-hour delay at the Dartford Tunnel, if so, this would be just a minor irritation arriving at just after six.
As soon as we hit the back of the queue my brother confidently, and correctly, remarked that this was going to be a delay for much longer than 30 minutes. We sat, we inched forward, we stopped again, 15 minutes passed by and the wheels didn’t turn a circumference. Eventually, as we paid our £1.50 for the privilege, nearly two hours had passed to travel four miles and the chances of making it for kick-off time had all but disappeared, and to add insult to injury I was absolutely desperate for a pee!
The problem with a jam at the Tunnel is that there is nowhere to go, you can’t even give up and go home as the traffic was backed up over the bridge for as far as the eyes could see. The other side of the tunnel was barely moving, but 20 m.p.h. is better than stationary. Eventually a hard shoulder on the A13 offered relief to one problem and we desperately tried to make up the time for kick off.
We actually drove past the ground with about five minutes to spare, but when you arrive so late car parking spaces are at a premium and 15 minutes were then wasted finding somewhere to spend £5 for a place, a good 10 minutes walk away.
So it was after 8 o’clock when we sat down in our seats, three and a half hours to travel a mere 53 miles. Once, admittedly after super traffic free run, we got back from Old Trafford after an England game in 3 hours 50 minutes that was 250 miles.
What happened in the first 15 minutes, you will need to read the official report, evidently both goalkeepers made saves but the game was still goalless as we tried to settle into the match.
No sooner had we sat down, we were on our feet cheering Gillingham’s first goal as a John Nutter free kick nestled in the bottom corner. Inevitably on a night destined for ill fortune the referee saw fit to disallow it, we read later for an Andy Barcham push or shirt pull in the wall. The referee went on to make a complete arse of himself with some bizarre bookings for both sides leading up to the break. Simon Royce and Nutter managed to scramble the ball to safety in the only clear opportunity of our half hour first half.
As the second half unfolded it was blatantly obvious that the winner would be only the better of two pretty poor sides. An oddball decision on the hour gave Gillingham an opportunity to open the scoring. An indirect free kick was awarded, was it for a back pass, obstruction, I don’t know, only seven yards from goal. The ball was tapped for Mark Bentley to blast over the bar; it did seem from that distance the most unlikely result.
More and more bookings followed as the referee decided that the stage was his and as the game entered injury time we at least thought that our traumatic night was going to end with only the second point of our travels. How cruel this game can be. A long ball into the box was headed back into the centre where Lee Barnard had a virtual open goal to smash his shot into. Q exit.
So where does the pie come into this? There was a queue (where wasn’t there last night) for the food. The burgers had run out and the pies were disappearing from the hot cabinet. As I reached the counter, there were just two remaining, one went and I had the other, the last one. It was so hot, it took the roof of my mouth away, it was one of those nights.
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