Ebbsfleet United, to which GASL has devoted comprehensive and thoughtful coverage beginning one year ago this week, took the FA Trophy on Saturday in a match against Torquay as the sporting world stilled to listen.
The BBC had a live stream via BBC Devon, which featured the Torquay announcers. Set aside, if you will, thoughts of the empty void that is this scribe's life given that he spent a goodly portion of his Saturday morning on English Conference soccer. I actually enjoyed listening to it despite the fact that I couldn't name a player on either club and the only thing I know about English Conference Football is that Ebbsfleet is fan owned and I stupidly failed to buy a share last year.
I was vaguely rooting for Ebbsfleet, weighing my scant knowledge of their club against the fact that I once drove through Torquay (frequently the deciding factor in who I root for in European soccer). So I hardly had enough passion to warrant wasting 90 minutes of my weekend on this. Yet, I kept listening. What made it enjoyable wasn't the match itself, which I could barely follow. Rather it was following the slow descent into despair of the Torquay announcers. Their club was the favorite and after Ebbsfleet snagged a late first half goal, their second half demeanor kept reminding me of something familiar that I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then it hit me. I was enjoying the English version of one of my favorite guilty pleasures -- following the emotional meltdown of a certain announcer as his team pisses away yet another game. I know taking delight in the suffering of legless diabetics is not on most top ten lists of virtuous behavior, but still....
3 comments:
Oh, a shame you didn't know about the FA live video streaming and you could have watched the game, instead of just listening! I was there at Wembley, it was a brilliant day. Up the Fleet! Met some American and Canadian fans too there!
Hey weenie (family name?) welcome aboard! I'm sure I speak for Southlandish when I say we would have loved to have been there. Unfortunately, as the dollar has all the intrinsic value of used toliet paper these days, it wasnt gonna happen.
Weenie, hope you partied at Trafalgar Sq. afterward. In May 1998 we were in London and came across a group of fans celebrating their move up. Can't remember who it was. I think it might have been a club moving from League Two to League One. We have a lovely photo of a somewhat drunk Mrs Southlandish posing with an even drunker, underwear-clad supporter who has just climbed out of the fountain. It's a treasure.
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