Sunday, 14 September 2014

The FA Vase. Part 1.


The FA Vase 2014 – 2015

Introduction

Well, far be it from me to quote Whitesnake but, Here I Go Again.

It was Ian at Hemel Hempstead last season who suggested doing the FA Vase stating that they don’t have replays. All I can say to that is liar liar pants on fire. It’s the last time I listen to him.

After he mentioned it and I dismissed it, it still went around in my head. Combine that with the amount of fun I had at the non-league level and the rest as they say is history, but it really hit home when the Extra Preliminary Round of the FA Cup came around again. I was like a junkie.  I just needed that fix. I REALLY NEEDED THAT FIX! I even went to the FA Cup Preliminary Round - St Margaretsbury v Romford – Romford won 0-4.

I started to look at the FA Vase. It started in the 1974-75 season making this season the 40th anniversary. The first team to win it was Hoddesdon Town – beating Epsom & Ewell 2-1 at the old Wembley. Hoddesdon Town had been pulled at home to Sawbridgeworth Town. It was their first home game of the season. It was the first time in Hoddesdon Town’s history that they had been able to play at home during the Cricket Clubs tenancy. Also thanks to the European Championship Qualifying games, it was also Non-League Day, with FA trying to encourage football fans to take in a non-league game and who am I to argue with the FA…

If all of that wasn’t enough the Mayor of Broxbourne, Mrs Bren Perryman and her Consort Mr Freddie Pearce, were to be the guests of honour.

Sometimes, just sometimes, you have to just accept the fact that maybe someone somewhere is pulling the strings. 

Finally, I already have two issues.

1. Game No3 and the second Semi Final clashes with the Half Term school holidays and you know what that means.

2. I already know that I can’t make any of the replays.

Let the adventure begin.



Saturday, 06th September 2014

 First Round Qualifying

Hoddesdon Town v Sawbridgeworth Town


The Stewart Edwards Stadium

Hoddesdon

EN11 8PX

K.O. 3.00pm

Half time 0-1

Final score 2-1

0–1 Charlie Cole  10 mins

1-1 Jamie Brandon  55 mins

2-1 Ben Andreos  80 mins

Admission £7

Programme £2 – A5 size, 60 pages not including the cover, 20 pages of adverts.

Miles travelled approximately 05

Attendance 101


I woke at 7.30am, I looked out of my bedroom window at Hoddesdon. It was cold, damp, dull, grey, and the weather wasn’t much better either. Still on a positive note I had woken up in my bed, which is always a good way to start the day.

Um… I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. There was no buzz. Is this the curse of the junkie? Each fix has to bigger, better, stronger. There was nothing. Was it because it was my adopted home town? Was it because it was the FA Vase and not the FA Cup?

I took a steady walk over to the ground getting there just before 2.00pm. Instead of going straight in I went for a walk around the outside of the ground basically being nosey and seeing if there was anything interesting going on.

So preoccupied was I with looking at the ground through the lens of my camera, while trying to take a picture through a hole in the netting that was hanging up behind the goal, that I didn’t see the cobwebs in the bushes and trees. I walked straight through them. I was literally covered head to foot in cobwebs and dozens of spiders that crawled all over me. In the instant arrival of blind panic I couldn’t decide what to do first. What seemed like an eternity or two later I’d managed to shove my camera into its case before I clawed at the cobwebs and spiders that were running all over me like MODS and Rockers on Brighton beach, of course none of this was before I screamed like Ned Flanders from The Simpson’s and didn’t I scream and scream and scream… I was having a really good hair day until that moment too…  

Eventually I made my way into the ground and continued with photographing anything that moved or didn’t. I also managed to get a ticket too. Here I Go Again…

I bumped in David Bauckham who is doing the same as me and is planning to turn his adventures into a book. His next game is going to be up at Whitley Bay, which is no mean feat considering he’s from Eastbourne -  https://www.flickr.com/photos/ccpub/sets/72157646957700578/

I made my way around the pitch which looked great. The grass was long and the ball wasn’t rolling that well in the warm up.

Everywhere I looked I saw spiders, they were everywhere, literally everywhere, not just in the trees and bushes but all over the fences, the main stand, the seats, I had a brain wave. The bar. The bar would surely be free of spiders. I was right too. I can live with the pink elephants but the spiders…

Also, it was great to see the Hoddesdon Town staff again, some of whom remembered me and welcomed me very warmly to their club, which was a lovely touch.

The weather was becoming thick and sticky. The sun was trying to break through. It tried to rain. It would eventually make its mind up by becoming hot and sunny.

Suddenly, it was 3pm, the teams did the usual hand shake nonsense, coin flipped, ends picked, photo taken… God I wish they’d just… GET ON WITH IT!!!
REALLY!? Is this necessary at any level never mind this…


This I understand, but the above.


What can I say? Be careful what you wish for. What a shocking game of football, truly shocking. I suppose I should be kind and say that both teams cancelled each other out, but I think it would be fair to suggest that both sets of players had probably never played the game before in their lives.

They did try. No really they did. I just sat there thinking that if this is Non-League Day and it was, then the people that had turned up to watch this would probably never bother coming again, which was a shame, because I know that Hoddesdon can play a lot better than that.

I shouldn’t really too hard on the teams because Sawbridgeworth did score on 10 mins which meant that at some point Hoddesdon would have to come out and play, it was just a question of when.

As for the Sawbridgeworth Town goal, it was a nothing goal, if that’s not a really stupid thing to say. It was neither good attacking nor bad defending. The ball just found itself in the box. It was either going to be a goal or be cleared. The fates were kind and we were treated to a goal. Still, it was well taken.

Fortunately the half time whistle arrived sooner than it should have. The Mayor and her Consort came over to me and asked me what I thought of the game so far. I told them what I thought before going off to the bar and by God did I need a beer. 


RUBBISH! See what I did there…


By the time I'd got to the bar the half times were coming in on Sky Sports. 
Walsall 0 Colchester 0…  OH… HUMP MY HOUND!!!

We’re going down

We’re going down

We’re going

Walsall’s going down…


Unfortunately the second half arrived sooner than it should have (see what I did there?). Still, on a positive I was sat next to some really fit ginger bird whose fella was playing for Hoddesdon so it wasn’t all bad… WHAT!?

I don’t know what the manager said to the team at half time but the team that started the second half wasn’t the team that ended the first. In fact, both teams had up their game and didn’t it show. This was more like it. This is the team I saw last season. Game on. Suddenly we had a game on our hands. Suddenly both teams were playing with pace.

Hoddesdon were having the better of the start and on 55 mins they managed to stuff up a great chance to equalise by placing the ball on the roof of the net. Sawbridgeworth having not learnt from the near miss let Hoddesdon have another go at equalising which they promptly did 60 seconds later.

Just like the Sawbridgeworth goal, it was a nothing attack, neither one thing nor another, but it fell to the feet of Jamie Brandon, who just like Charlie Cole before him slammed it in from close range, actually he bent in from the left, or right, depending which way you are facing.

Actually to make it as clear as I can. If you were the keeper. The ball falls to Brandon inside the box to your right, closer to the 18 yard line than the 6 yard line. Brandon sees to space to the your left and curls the ball into the bottom left hand corner, past you as you wave at the ball.

Then it happened, one of the reasons I fell in love with non-league football, on 70-ish minutes, a Hoddesdon player went one on one with the Sawbridgeworth keeper in a genuine 50/50 ball. Neither player was going to beat either player to the ball, neither one of them pulled out. The keeper went down on the ball while the striker went in… TWACK! The striker flew over the keeper while the keeper held onto the ball. No play acting. No moaning at the ref. No rolling around the pitch like those diving racist cheats in the Premiershit. Brilliant stuff.


Four minutes later Sawbridgeworth went and hit the bar from a lovely and rapid break down their left, a nicely drifted cross was met by the only player on planet Earth that could miss, which he did. It was a classic moment of it being easier to score than miss, I guess he just likes a challenge… The ball bounced of the top of the bar, over the netting, through the trees, bushes and cobwebs where the spiders caught it and teased the ball boy with it…

On 80 minutes Ben Andreos got Hoddesdon’s second and put the game out of reach for Sawbridgeworth who, to their credit, didn’t give up, but it was over and we all knew it. Another well taken goal, nicely struck, from a nothing cross that just sort of bobbled through to Ben, who once he’d got it under control slammed it in.

Just as the game was drawing to a close one of the Sawbridgeworth players spat the dummy (would it be unfair to name their captain Kevin Riley?), if all that was bad enough at the final whistle another Sawbridgeworth player said something to the linesman and got himself sent off after the final whistle.

After the final whistle the Mayor and her Consort waited by the entrance to the pitch and shuck hands with the officials, the players and playing staff of both teams. Just how cool is that? This is probably why she’s the Mayor.

Once the end of game formalities had been done I dived into the bar to see the final results. Walsall 0 Colchester 0 … From the bottom up it read, Crewe, Colchester, Scunthorpe, Walsall, Port Vale… *SIGH*

I decided to take advantage of an empty ground and take the photos that I missed earlier in the day before being offered the chance to see the replica FA Vase that was given to Hoddesdon in 1975. It’s smaller than me. But only just. Lots of chatting. I even bumped into Norman Ingram – I’m sure he’s stalking me.

I’d enjoyed today. It wasn’t the greatest game of football that I’d ever seen, but you know something, it was great to be back.

View from the North Bank



View from the East Stand



View from the South Bank



View from the West Stand



Noggin xx


Just for the record, this is what happened 40 years ago

Round One

Hoddesdon Town 2-1 Epping Town

Round Two

Hoddesdon Town 1-0 Billericay Town

Round three

Basildon United 1-2 Hoddesdon Town

Round Four

Baldock 1-2 Hoddesdon Town

Round Five

Hoddesdon Town 1-0 Molesey

Quarter Final

Hoddesdon Town 2-0 Farnborough Town

Semi Final First Leg

Hoddesdon Town 2-0 Friar Lane Old Boys

Semi Final Second Leg

Friar Lane Old boys 1-1 Hoddesdon Town

Final
Hoddesdon town 2-1 Epsom & Ewell







Thursday, 14 August 2014

2012 London Olympics. Epilogue


2012 London Olympics. Epilogue

Wednesday 15th August 2012

Afternoon people.

Re these posts/blogs things…

May I take this opportunity to say thank you to all the people who sent me positive feedback whether it be via E Mails, texts or phone calls and a special set of thanks to all the people had the balls to start their E Mails with, “You don’t know me but…”.

You’ve seen the photos, you know what I look like, if you see me around and about RUN! HA! HA! HA! Come up and say hello. Beers are on me… erm… no forget that the beers are on you…

Before I finally bid you all farewell. I hope I haven’t wasted too much of your time (well you didn’t have to read them… who’s the fool?). I hope my words have made you smile.

Here is a small visit around my head.

Slippery things these dreams. Sometimes the tighter you try to hold them the easier they escape your grasp. You have to hold them gently. Caress them. Love them. For all of the faults and problems that they bring your way. They are your dreams and sometimes it is only you that can understand and believe in them.

In the seven years since London was awarded the 2012 Olympics there were times when I’ve lost sight of the dream. There were times when I wondered was it all worth it. Were the sacrifices worth it? The times I’ve cried like a school girl. The times “I’ve poured my brain into a can”… Chemical supports that got me through those long times of self-loathing for all the people I’m hurting and took me to the bring brink of addiction.

Moving 200 miles further away from my daughter. Football, season tickets handed back. Football in general, walked away from and THOSE cup games and relegation battles that I could now only read about in the press.  Concerts that now happened without me being there. Relationships that I calmly and very coldly walked away from – I’m truly sorry for the heart ache – I just had to be somewhere else – I’m sorry.

That first Christmas when it was just me. In an empty flat. When I thought I’d completely stuffed it up. When I had literally only pennies in my bank account. When I ended up in Waltham Abbey on Boxing Day with a fading dream and a Maiden shirt, literally just me in an empty Abbey, a pilgrim, a lost traveller, searching for the path, for sanctuary – no pun intended - someone with a faith, a quest, a light to follow, chasing that bright star in the sky.  

Does this make sense? I’ve kind of felt like the NASA space probe “Voyager” that was launched in 1977 to have a close look at Jupiter and Saturn before moving off into… whatever she finds in her path. Somewhere in the far away void of the dark sky was a little pin prick of light. Brightly shining. Calling. Calling. Calling. A distance that’s so great that even after years of travelling the brightly shining light seemed to be no closer. Then still no closer and then STILL no closer, until one day there is a shape, a form, something other than a pin prick of light. Then slowly, slowly that shape and form becomes more detailed and then before you know it… WHOOSH!... FFFFFFUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK!!!!!! And the whole purpose of the journey screams, thunders by, so quickly, that you are left spun around facing the wrong way to the direction of your travel as the object you went to look at is already starting to fade away. Into time. Into space. Growing ever distant but still brightly shining…

To all the people that I let down so badly. I’m sorry. It was my dream. I hope that one day you understand. I hope that one day you too have a dream and I can pay back some of the debt I owe you. When you need me just shout. 



Can someone please stop the tears.

Is this my penance?

Farewell and may your God go with you.

Peace and Love

Peace and Love


Noggin xx

Wednesday, 13 August 2014

2012 London Olympics. Day Eighteen


2012 London Olympics. Day Eighteen

Tuesday 14th August 2012

Afternoon people.

So here it is, the penultimate post/blog whatever these things are called.

Back to work and if I'm allowed to steal a quote from Chris Dale I keep bursting into tears (go look and read this
http://www.metaltalk.net/columns/20100823.php ). Is it the release? The humility of the Olympians? I guess there are many reasons, but the fact of the matter is I keep bursting into tears and I feel really silly for doing so.

I was given Enfield. Ironically across the street from where Anna's Great Gran lived and raised a family so it's also where her Grand Dad grew up, "Small world, wouldn't want to paint..." (Steven Wright lives on...). I saw my first gold post box outside Enfield train station
http://www.goldpostboxes.com/

Let me bring this crashing to an end or else I'll be here forever.

I would like to dedicate my Olympic adventure to all the people I met along the way who said "Couldn't", "Shouldn't", "Wouldn't" and "Won't"... Well, FUCK YOU! Fuck you all. Every time you opened your fat fucking mouth. Every time you offered me your negative, bigoted opinions, every time "you" told "me" what "I", "Couldn't", "Shouldn't", "Wouldn't" and "Won't"... do, it drove me on.

You know something? Actually, let me change my point of view, let me thank you. Thank you, because you helped me get further away from you and what you stand for. What you and what you stand for I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies. You helped me fulfil my dreams. Frankly I still hope you die. I hope every step I took has crushed you slowly under every step of my heel and leaves you grasping for life in the polluted earth that you slithered from. Die you fuckers. Die a slow miserable fucking death. Just fucking die.

WHAT!?

And... Did you really think I would end this on a negative? You really thought I would end this with them having my last thoughts and words? Oh how little you learnt over the last two weeks or so. Here is a You Tube link to last piece of music I sent to Anna on the day the 2012 London Olympics started. Seven years is not a sprint, it’s a marathon... see what I did there... hahaha...

http://youtu.be/MUcdRLn3bgM
Studio version with lyrics

http://youtu.be/rP58U_R3gK0
Live at the NEC 1988 and I was there and if you know where to look... I'm the one just... "There"... no, not there... "THERE"...

Just for the record. When I sent this to Anna on that Friday, yes it was planned, from the moment I had the first idea of sending Anna one piece of music every week, Rush, Marathon was always going to be THE song (Maiden, Loneliness of The Long Distance Runner was a close second... hahaha...).

Now stop reading all of this rubbish and go and listen to Maiden, Rush, Tchaikovsky and Wolfsbane, your life will be better for it.

Noggin xx

Tuesday, 12 August 2014

2012 London Olympics. Day Seventeen


2012 London Olympics. Day Seventeen

Monday 13th August 2012

Evening people.

Thank you and good night. Well that’s it. It was/is over.
 



It was now just the task of getting Anna home and myself back to work. So it was an alarm clock call of 4am with a 5.30am leave. I watched an amazing sunrise as we drove up the Motorway. Anna slept all the way. At 9am it was time for a Burger King breakfast. 


Once we had arrived, it was lots of hugs for Anna and her mum and lots of cups of tea for me. Let the downloading of photos begin... 6 hours later... One or two issues evolved and I suddenly realised that I couldn't get back home in time to get to work for my 3am start. A quick phone call to the transport office and I was bumped along to 1pm.






Once the issues were sorted, someone came up with the idea to have a walk down the river and the castle. It was a nice and peaceful way to end our two week adventure. It couldn't have been more different to what we had just been doing. As we walked down to the river, we bumped into a 2012 Volunteer. We just fell about laughing. 350 miles from London and we bump into a volunteer.
 



As the time for leaving grew closer the adventure slowly and surely came a stop. No dramas. No big bangs. No fireworks. It kind of just crept up on us. A massive anti-climax. And that’s it? This is how it ends? I hadn't thought about the end. I'd never given it a second thought. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't this.

Saying goodbye to Anna hurt. Really hurt.
 



Fuel up the car and I'm south bound. Then it happened. WTF? A few miles later and it happens again. Was that lightning? It was too. It lit up the far horizon. COME ON! I got further south as the storm moved further north. As we approached the brilliant white lightning went a weird bright lime green colour that didn't just light up the sky it lit up the road and surrounding landscape. For about 10 minutes it was like being in a scene from War of The Worlds as green flash after green flash lit up the sky like summer lightning, cause, erm... that’s what it was... D'oh... 


Eventually, no thanks to the M6 and M5 and A34 being closed I got home at 2am. Two quick cups of tea and I staggered off to bed.

I guess an end is an end, but this wasn't the end I was expecting. I felt cheated.

To be continued...?
Noggin xx

2012 London Olympics. Day Sixteen


2012 London Olympics. Day Sixteen

Sunday 12th August 2012

Evening people
 


So, here it was. Our last day. The last day. The Men's Marathon. The final event of the Olympics, as it has always been and could it be more apt an event. It has been a long seven years since London had been awarded the 2012 Olympics. "It’s not how fast you can go...".
 


We had an early start because we wanted to get to Trafalgar Square to watch the first two laps of the Marathon. We got ourselves a place on the base of Nelson's Column. Unfortunately we ended up next to some East End wide boys and their over caked in makeup and as thick as the makeup that they were badly wearing wives. Who firstly insisted on not knowing where the Marathon was going, as if the 10 deep people lining the road and thus the route weren't a clue and secondly they insisted, while at the bottom of Nelson's Column in Trafalgar Square, that the bloke at the top of Nelson's Column wasn’t Nelson and the images around the base of the column in TRAFALGAR square were images from the battle of "WATERLOO". God give me strength...
 


Anyway, the Marathon went by, twice, lots of heads bobbing up and down and just how much noise did the crowds make. We then went up to Tower Hill to see the runners at the loop. It was chaos. Total chaos. The Danes were still there. Go home already. Still we got a balloon each.
 





We had two Wenlock walks left and we set off to Regents Park. It was stupidly hot. It’s not until you walk around Regents Park that you realise just how big it is. Lots of bird watching before going back into Leicester Square for food. Anna spent 30 minutes playing in the new water feature.
 








We went to Liverpool Street Station for the last Wenlock walk via St Pancras Station and the London 2012 shop. It looked like a shop at the end of the Xmas sales, it had been ravaged. There was very little to buy and what was there wasn't worth buying or their asking price either. We did get a chance to look at the Closing Ceremony programme so we got to see who would be performing later on that night.

We finished our Wenlock walk. We had completed something that we had set out to do.
 


We made our way back home and while packing and trying to catch up with this I also tried to watch the Closing Ceremony.


Today had been a weird day. It had a strange vibe to it. It was almost a non-event day. Here was that Mary Poppins vibe again...

Noggin xx 

Monday, 11 August 2014

2012 London Olympics. Day Fifteen


2012 London Olympics. Day Fifteen

Saturday 11th August 2012

Evening people.

Again, more apologies for the late arrival of this E Mail.
 

As I type it is 14th August, actually its just past midnight so it’s now the 15th... Anyway, let me get on with it. Those 72 got get extended by some weird time travel thing that I don't really fully understand.



Today was another one of those days set aside for other stuff and things. The stuff and things that we usually get up to when Anna is down here. Combine that with the effect of THAT Saturday and any chance of getting any more tickets simply wasn't worth the effort trying to get them, let the bandwagon jumpers have their moment, so, the normal trashing of London by us it was. We decide, well Anna decide that we should continue to do the Wenlock hunt. 



I have to say that London and other cities for that matter should do more of this. It really is a lot of fun. Now you would think that trying to spot a six foot tall brightly painted London Olympic Mascot would be easy. Very easy. Well you are wrong. Very wrong and that’s the point, it doesn't just get you "looking" it gets you "seeing".
 





We did two of the walks, leaving two to finish the set. You will not believe how many people were doing the same thing. You will not believe how many people had the same story as us. We all talked of the Olympics and the lack of hassle. Just how good the volunteers had been. The armed forces and all of their good work. Rio 2016. That Saturday how it had affected family, friends, tickets, we talked of stories we had seen on TV or heard on the radio or seen in the press. How the printed press especially had changed their tune, they had spent months predicting doom and gloom and now, NOW, they had performed a U Turn that would make any Government Minister proud.
 



Here is another effect from the 2012 London Olympics. People were being nice to each other. Smiling. Looking each other in the eye. Nodding. Being polite. Friendly. Helpful. I never thought I'd see the day... It’s as if someone went through London the night before the Olympics and got rid of all the miserable bastards that clutter up London and make it a piss awful place to be. More of this please and thank you very much for their disappearance. I know this doesn't make much sense, or maybe it does, but it was literally like someone had rounded them all up and locked them away. There were times that parts of London looked and felt like a scene from Glee. I kept expecting people to break out into random acts of singing and dancing. They didn't. Part of me was grateful and part of me was sad and disappointed. It’s the ex-choirboy in me, still, it could be worse, it could be me in the choirboy... *cough cough... moving on...*
 



As we travelled across London on the tube to Covent Garden a women looked over to Anna and Myself and said, "You were at the football the other night". "Uh?" replied me, "Us?" I continued and I started to grasp at my fading memory, "Which day?" I asked, "Thursday, I was stood behind you on Olympic Way as we queued for the train"... she answered. WTF!? Really? What are the odds? There was a crowd of 80,203 at that game and we stand on a tube next to women who was stood behind us on Olympic Way... The magic of 2012 strikes again.
 



That reminds me. Last week, we dived on the tube at Liverpool Street and made our way to Tower Hill and we ended up standing in an empty carriage with two other people, both Canadians. One was a female and one was a male. The male was wearing an Olympic pass. We just acted like normal everyday people. Just interacting with each other. Small talk. Making sure we were all going to the correct station. Once I got home I Googled him (because I hadn't got a clue who he was) his name was/is Andrew Brynes. He had just won a Silver medal in the rowing (he got gold in 2008). Now what I need you to do is name one English football player that would use the tube. No really. In your own speed. This is what separates the Olympics from football and other sports for that matter.
 



Right. I need sleep. More to follow.

Noggin xx

Sunday, 10 August 2014

2012 London Olympics. Day Fourteen


2012 London Olympics. Day Fourteen

Friday 10th August 2012

Evening people.

It is the evening of Sunday 12th August 2012, I'm watching the closing ceremony with Anna and I'm still buzzing my tits off.

Apologies for falling behind with this but as I wrote yesterday, we are coming to the end of the manic 72 hours for us both.

When I woke yesterday I put the TV on ad I saw the Dutch bloke on the High Bar, only then did I understand why there were so many happy Dutch people around last night. Just how good was that performance? Bloody hell fire.

Did I see that? Did I imagine that? BMX at the Olympics? REALLY? BMX at the Olympics... Did I miss a meeting? What next, "Skateboarding"? "Hanging out on street corners"? "Wearing a hoodie"? "I'm 14 years old and I want to be sulky bastard..."? That would inspire a generation of our lost youth...
 



Anyway, today was always going to be another free day unless we got tickets for any other events, but after THAT Saturday I've had more chance of flying to The Moon than getting any other tickets. There were many things that I had lined up for our days off. Today Anna choose "Royal River" at The Maritime Museum in Greenwich. So off to Greenwich we went via Tower Hill and the Danes who are STILL asking people to come and join them. I'm STILL floored. It continues to bring shame on English professional footballers and the game in general. Remember a few posts back when I mentioned taking your daughter to the Olympics is like taking a puppy to the park? Nice one Anna.
 



So, the Royal River. I only mentioned it so that Anna could say that she had seen that Canaletto painting. 90 minutes later. Really. Just how long does it take to look a painting? Really... we were in there for 90 MINUTES! 90 MINUTES... STUNNING! It suddenly struck me that, that painting would have been the HD 3D TV of its day.
 



On the way home, while we were on the DLR going through the Isle of Dogs we struck up conversation with one of The Volunteers. He was working at Greenwich for the whole six weeks or so. We had such a great yak to each other. We both said how much of a success it had all been. Traffic? What traffic? Problems? What problems? While chatting we both said at the same time "What did you do during The Olympics"... and we both agreed that this, this is our moment, this was/is OUR generations chance to shine. We weren't around 70 years ago. We didn't beat the Nazi's. 

We didn't fight in some huge romantic over glorified conflict, but this, THIS, was our moment. Black, Brown, White, Young and Older, all of those generations that had grown up after WWII, this was our moment. It was our time. WE were there and we were part of it. Before we got off the DLR that Volunteer (name known but spelling not) gave Anna a very limited edition badge from the German Equestrian Team. It was such a simple and yet powerful gesture.
 



We decided that we should do at least one of the Wenlock walks before going home, so we did. We bumped into a woman who was doing the same as me and Anna. Not just the walks but the Olympics. She was with her son. Sometime later we bumped into them again. This time we spent about 30 to 40 minutes chatting as our kids ran around telling anyone passing about the Olympics and the Wenlock Walks. She said, that she was so impressed with the attitude of the Olympics and the people taking part that she was already thinking of doing Rio in 2016... Up runs Anna, were going ain't we Dad...
 



Eventually back at Tottenham Hale and waiting for our/the last train home some of the staff that had left The Olympic Park filled up the station and joined us in our wait for the last train. In the middle of this was a group of about four maybe five from the badge traders, one of their group took one look at Anna and her bag (which is covered in badges) and gave her two even more limited edition Wenlock badges on their backing cards. Anna looked them in the eye and said thank you and I was left even more floored. She could have kept those badges. She could have put them on eBay (isn't that the done thing nowadays... money... money... money... come back Mrs Thatcher all is forgiven... go sniff yourselves...) but no. She choose to give them to my daughter. I was there. I saw that person’s reaction when that person saw Anna's bag, it was an act of instinct... It is that simple.
 





God. There is so much more to tell. I don't really know where to start or where I would even begin to draw it all to an end.

Before I go. I'm going to try to catch up with this tomorrow and apologies for cock up yesterday but my laptop crashed.

Noggin xx