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Spookily enough, the same scoreline as last year’s visit to Coventry. I wasn’t there to see it, but it was, by all accounts, a confident, competent performance to get the season off and running. We’re now 3rd in the table – although league tables mean little at this early stage of the season. Credit to Steve Brooker, for scoring his 3rd goal in 4 games. Upwards and onwards!
It was my birthday yesterday (51? Shome mishtake, surely?!), and for my treat we went to the zoo. I’ve always loved Bristol Zoo, one of the oldest and best in the UK – there’s something so reassuringly old-fashioned and well-mannered about it. When our boys were little, we had a season ticket, and we would often pop in for an hour or so, to see the new arrivals, catch up with old friends, or just play on the grass (which, ironically, was one of the few green spaces in Bristol guaranteed to be free of animal shit).
There’s inevitably a tension in zoos between the thrill of seeing beautiful, sometimes scary beasts in the flesh, and worrying about their imprisonment, but Bristol has always had a very progressive approach to the welfare of its animals, and they certainly seem well cared for and healthy. I especially enjoyed the seals yesterday, in their new enclosure complete with wave machine and underwater viewing area (I never realised before that seals seem to swim mainly on their back), and the Butterfly Forest, where they hatch all kinds of beautiful butterflies and release them into a big humid polytunnel which visitors stroll through, resisting the temptation to swat the butterflies when they get too close. I was glad to learn that it’s an urban myth that butterflies live only for a day – their life expectancy actually ranges from 2 to 12 weeks.
All of which reminded me of my birthdays when I was a boy, which also often featured a family trip to the zoo. In those days it was Chessington Zoo, only a couple of miles from where I grew up, which was part-zoo, part-funfair. Once we had seen the animals, the favourite ride for my sister and me was the “Boomps-a-Daisy”, which consisted basically of a tractor pulling a garishly painted open trailer. For a small fee, one could sit in the trailer and be towed along a track around the zoo. The fun part was that the cart had no suspension, and the track was very uneven, so the kids in the back would be thrown all over the place, squealing with delight as we incurred all kinds of bruises, gashes and fractures. The place is still there, but it’s now called “Chessington World of Adventures”. It’s become a theme park, complete with rollercoasters and people dressed up in cartoon character costumes, and although I quite like theme parks, I have such happy memories of the old zoo that I don’t really want to go back to see what it’s become. One thing’s for certain – health and safety rules will have ensured that the Boomps-A-Daisy is no longer there, long since replaced by something much more “scary”, but infinitely safer and much less fun.
If we’d been told a couple of years ago that we’d be playing Derby soon, let alone getting a point off them, we’d have been delighted. The fact that we came away feeling that we really should have beaten them is a measure of how far we’ve come.
That said, we also have a long way to go. After a good first half performance with a hatful of chances and a first league goal for Nicky Maynard, it really looked like an easy win. But Derby in the second half were a different team, and the City boys seemed to have spent all their reserves of skill, flair and panache. The Derby goal came from a real howler by Lee Johnson, which will give his many critics enough ammunition to keep them going until next season (at least). Such a shame. Only time will tell whether this season’s Derby turn out to be a good team to have won a point from, or whether they end up doing as badly they did last season in the Premiership – who knows, the point they won at Ashton Gate on Saturday may turn out to be their only one this season…
It felt rather strange seeing the people who sit in our bit of the Dolman Stand for the first time since our triumph against Palarse in the playoff semi-final, and very little talk of the Wembley let-down, but it was great to be back, and all good fun. Brendan particularly enjoyed abusing Nathan Ellington for being ex-Rovers, and Robbie Savage for being… well, just Robbie Savage.
Why are the British so good at cycling? We seem to be taking the Olympics by storm when it comes to two wheels. Is it because other countries don’t bother? Is it something about the Anglo-Saxon body or mentality? I think we should be told.
Well, maybe all is not lost, weather-wise. This morning was absolutely beautiful, and I drew back the curtains to see a hot air balloon hanging motionless in the blue sky above the SS Great Britain (how lucky we are to have that view, and how ironic that exactly a week ago the Balloon Fiesta was ruined by the weather).
It was quite chilly, though, in an alarmingly autumnal way, all of which made for perfect conditions for my bike ride to work. Cycling through Bristol can be such a pleasure, especially with the lighter traffic during the school holidays.
Stephen and I are pretty hardy when it comes to playing golf in crappy conditions. Once we’ve made the effort to get to the club, sorted out domestic arrangements, and got all excited about the thrills and spills ahead, we’re not easily put off by a bit of rain, fog, or even snow. Many’s the time we’ve been the only people on the course, observed with a mixture of pity and incredulity by friends from the warmth of the bar, and even I have to admit that winter golf can keep its charms well hidden at times. The rain seeps through your uncomfortable waterproofs, the wind blows your ball off the tee peg just as you start your downswing, the greens are waterlogged so you have to putt on temporaries, by the 15th your hands are so cold that you can’t feel the club anyway, and you breathe a sigh of relief as you struggle down the 18th to see the welcoming lights of the clubhouse against the darkening sky.
But the only real problem with all of this is that this particular round of “winter golf” wasn’t in the winter at all. It was yesterday, August 13th! Aaaarrrgghhh – what’s going on?!
Not the greatest game that we’ll see at Ashton Gate this season (I hope), but a good result which sees us through to the next round of the League Cup. “We’re going to Wemberley“, sang the East End, which may be a tad premature, given our distinctly mediocre performance – in fact, we were quite fortunate to win against a side from the division below who played with more creativity, and a great deal more commitment.
Highlights were the well taken close-range goals from Carey and Brooker, the tannoy announcement asking “Mr Pete Borough to go home immediately“, and the final whistle. (Everyone was extremely relieved that the Posh didn’t equalise, not because we might have gone on to lose, but because we’d have had to endure 30 minutes of extra time.)
The low points (and there were many) included Christian Ribeiro getting seriously injured 20 minutes into his first team debut (it looked like a broken leg, but fortunately turned out to be ligament damage), Peterborough scoring an easy goal from a defensive cockup to take the lead, and the shite weather (August has turned into November).
One thing’s for certain – we’ll have to be better against Derby on Saturday if we’re to continue the winning start to the season.
I’m hoping that Tom Waits will release a video of the Glitter and Doom tour (I think most of the shows were recorded, so I assume there’s something in the pipeline). Meanwhile, here’s a clip of a performance on the David Letterman show in America last year. So energetic, expressive and, of course, quite unique. On the tour, the end of the song (also the end of the show) was greeted with a massive shower of glitter from above the stage.
So, the season has started again, and the magnificent City boys picked themselves up in their first proper game since the Wembley “disappointment” to win their opening game in style. In truth, judging by the radio commentary and TV highlights, we were rather lucky to win, but a win’s a win. And after all the shenaninigans around getting a decent striker on board, new boy Nicky Maynard wasted a couple of excellent chances, and it fell to substitute Steve Brooker, the old workhorse, to score the winner, from a very difficult angle, in the 90th minute. The City fans, including Brendan and me huddled over the radio in the kitchen, went wild, and the neighbours, unaware that the season had started, probably thought ”Oh no, not this again already…”.
Nicky Maynard provided the best quote of the day, saying afterwards that although he was sorry not to have scored, he was made up for Brooks, it was all about the team, etc., and he was just glad that “we are another step closer to promotion“. Well, Nicky, we are all delighted to be off the starting blocks, but let’s not get too carried away!
This was also the weekend of the Balloon Fiesta, which, of course, meant rain, wind, and an almost total lack of hot air balloons, all very disappointing for my sister and family who came over especially. It amazes me that the organisers persist in scheduling the event for August, which is such a famously shite month in Bristol – they’d stand a better chance of a successful event in the middle of January. But we did see the Red Arrows, a lot of mud, and a woman called Amanda in a pony and trap performing “stunts”, which consisted basically of her steering her unfortunate ponies over a series of speed bumps. Barking mad, but very funny.
Finally, my new bicycle arrived, and a fine machine it is proving to be. Very comfortable, a perfect fit for my tall body, very well equipped and solidly built. It’s not the lightest bike around (in fact it weighs about the same as a Ford Transit, fully loaded with washing machines), but I’m not too bothered about that – at my age, speed is well down my list of priorities, behind safety and comfort.
It’s a Kalkhoff, imported for me by the nice people from 50Cycles.com, and it really is a delight to roll along on it without the cacophony of rattles, squeaks and scrunches that the old bike emitted. It has suspension on the front fork, which I’ve never really been keen on, but it certainly smoothes out some of Bristol’s rougher roads. It also has dynamo lights, which will be great in a couple of months’ time, and are very different from the dynamo I had as a boy (the one with a little wheel thingy that rubbed against the side of the tyre, slowing you to a snail’s pace and knackering the tyre in one neat operation). This setup even has some sort of residual power battery in the rear light, so that it doesn’t go out when you stop at a junction. It also has a little stand, which I’ve yet to use, but is nice to have.
Because of its German origins, I’m inclined to think of it as the Mercedes Benz of the bicycle world, but, given its solid build and the potential to have lights on all the time, perhaps it’s more of a Volvo. Either way, it’s great and I love it. Now, the big question is, do I look chic on it? Sadly, I think not.
It’s the Bristol Balloon Fiesta this weekend, one of the biggest events in the city’s calendar, so I thought I’d check the weather forecast:
Bristol weather forecast
Not quite what the organisers would have hoped for in the middle of August. I love living in Bristol, but I do wish we could have a decent summer every now and then.
This is very silly, but it did make me chuckle. (The banner at the start of the clip means “You’ll never walk alone”.)
Maynard made his debut last night in this pre-season friendly, scored a hat-trick, and sent the fans home feeling that yes, maybe this boy will provide the vital ingredient, missing for so much of last season, i.e. the ability to score goals. Certainly his three debut goals were taken with the confident ease of a very good footballer, and the man next to me was in no doubt that Maynard had already proved that he’s worth the money, and will deliver us to the promised land of the Premiership. Let’s hope he’s right, although it may be just a tad early to tell! (After all, many of us remember the brace of wonder goals that Lee Trundle scored against Scunthorpe in one of his first games for City…)
The match itself was great fun, and the Antwerp side were not as bad as the scoreline suggests. City played very well, with very few mistakes in any area of the pitch, and our other new boy, midfielder Gavin Williams, also looked promising. The real stars of the night, however, were the Antwerp fans. There must have been well over a thousand, and they sang throughout the game, giving their players a heroes’ send-off at the final whistle. Their finest hour was when they danced a conga to a chorus of “Let’s go f*cking mental” in perfect English when their side had just conceded yet another goal. It must be very heartening for the players to have such loyal fans, and I hope we manage to be even half as encouraging to our boys if things don’t always go well this season.
As none of my regular pals were able to come along, I spent quite a bit of time sending goal-flash texts, and soon realised that I’d need to add “Maynard” to my telephone’s dictionary. The best reply of the night came from Laz, responding to my “3-0, hat trick for Maynard!!!” text message. He asked “Yes, but can he finish?!”. Yes Laz, I do believe he can.
Anyway, here’s a clip of those fans:
When I last mentioned Bristol City, it was to rejoice in the signing of Emad Metoab, the Egyptian wunderkind who was going to score hundreds of goals and lead us to the promised land. Well, unfortunately, having agreed terms with City, posed in the red shirt, etc., Metaob then asked if he could play one more game for his old club in Egypt. Not unreasonably, City said that he couldn’t. But the silly boy went and played anyway. Result – one pissed off manager, and one torn up contract. So much for “M” number one.
With the start of the season looming, attention was turned to “M” number 2, Mifsud, a Maltese international (what?! he’s played for Malta?!) currently playing for Coventry. He also seemed promising, and had played there successfully with our Dele Adebola. Great, the dream strike partnership, reunited in red. Again, all seemed to be signed, sealed and (almost) delivered – Mifsud passed his medical, personal terms were agreed, and “M2″ said all the right things about how he couldn’t wait to start playing for “Bristol”, a club he’d always admired, blah, blah. But then his agent started making new demands, most notably a clause in his contract which allowed him to leave without notice or fee if a Premiership club expressed interest in him, i.e. if he does badly we get to keep him, and if he does well he buggers off. Hmmm… Not surprisingly, Johnson showed him the door, and “M” number 2 bit the dust.
Things at this stage were getting rather embarrassing, so desperate measures were called for. “M3″ was one Nicky Maynard, who was apparently the first “M” that the club had approached, but who was regarded as too expensive at the time, at £2.5m (which admittedly does seem rather a lot for a League One player unproven at Championship level). But with the season now only 10 days away, Lansdown decided that he had to dig deep, found the necessary dosh, and Maynard was duely signed, to the delight of the City faithful.
But will he deliver?
