|Geoffrey Squire Comes Out Of Retirement! Musings on the 2013/14 Season (Part 1)|
Written by geoffrey_squire on Monday, 19th May 2014 20:38
So there I was, quietly sitting with slippers on gazing out of the window and listening to the tones of the countdown clock. When out of nowhere I get a message come through. The sender was Daniel of The U'sual fame. It had been so long that I thought I was seeing things. The message read along the lines of "Squire, I need help with my site, fancy writing a few things for me". At first I was more dumb-struck than wondering how Cian Bolger ever made it as a pro footballer. But then I thought to myself, "Why not Squire old boy, it's about time you shrugged off the tartan blanket and came out of retirement". So here it is, my musings on the 2013/14 season and my attempt to come back into the game, like Doogie away at Walsall and possibly equally as brief.
During the course of the 2013/14 season my frail body managed three away games. I was only bettered by Dan who managed a meagre four, on a level par with Vicar Martz and god knows who Mr G is any more. It all started off so well. I took an early train to Gillingham via the fancy high speed rail link that runs out of Stratford and that no one seems to use. The train was certainly quick in getting to Gillingham and certainly quicker than Clinton Morrison getting into the 18 yard box. I shouldn't mock the old boy really, but with a turning circle of something that can't turn, the pace of a snail and the finishing ability equal to Cian Bolgers defending he was never destined for glory in our final season.
I digress of course, Gillingham was a wonderful affair. The town as usual was an absolute dump and I was glad to see they kept up the tradition of being 'The UK's Shittest Town'. Although there was a plus point since my last visit as there were no CUSA seagulls in the pub this time around helping themselves to all the free roast potatoes. Ah the CUSA, yes that brings back memories. Sitting on a coach being missed out on the bag sweets as they sniffed we weren't one of them and had the 'normal' amount of toes.
I'm sorry, I digress again so where was I? Oh yes, Gillingham. The sun was shining; the golf stand was mildly rocking in the wind and before the ref could blow his whistle Andy BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOND (ala Martin Tyler style) stepped up for the U's to take all three points at the death. Now the golf stand was rocking and so were my cronies. I believe Cronin, Smutsy, Martz, Dan, Mr G, Little Pete and I stopped off at an Aldi and bought some beers for the train back to Stratford. We boys know how to celebrate in style. Our budget didn't quite stretch to the bag of chips that Joe Dunne had to work with in the transfer market, as Cian Bolger proved. Sorry, I should leave him alone, he is ginger after all and a ginger who tries to dye it.
All of the lads decided to head to the casino to celebrate once arriving at Stratford. But being the sensible chap, I decided to carry on the celebrations on my own at Tap East. Tap East is a bar with a great beer selection, but sadly have staff that have the manners of Steve Evans. Still, it didn't stop any of us being in great spirits believing we were destined for a season of glory...
Talking of Steve Evans, my next away journey was to Rotherham. Wow! Scandal Alert! The next story defies belief! It’s all about 'Tap Gate' but as it's getting late I think I'll leave that story till next time. I'll carry on where I left off shortly so be sure not to go anywhere. Now Rachel Riley, where were we...
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